About a year ago, after much nagging and reminding, my Dad finally brought his photo album round for me to look at. When he and my Mum separated, he kept all of the photos of me, so I hadn’t seen many of them for over 20 years!

One particular one stands out to me, a snap of me and my Mum, I can’t have been more than 6 months old, but the picture just sums up my childhood so perfectly!

Born to Ride, baby!

Yep, that’s little old me, sitting on my Mum’s lap while she poses on a motorbike!

Motorbikes played quite a big part of my childhood, one of my earliest memories is of watching my Dad working on his motorbike in our garage, I remember the smell of engine oil, the Swarfega to get the grease off of his hands.

When my Mum remarried, my stepdad (whom I also call Dad, long story) was also a lover of all things two-wheeled (though this makes my Mum sound like a motorbike groupie..which I can assure you she is not!) and I’d be taken to drag racing weekends and meets like The Bulldog Bash, where we’d spend all weekend camping, surrounded by Hell’s Angels, listening to Led Zeppelin and Lynyrd Skynyrd, and soaking up the atmosphere and the smell of burning rubber. And yes, I do remember seeing wet t-shirt contests!

I may not have had the most…traditional…of childhoods, but I have some amazing memories, and I like to think that it all played a part in making me the person I am today. I saw and heard things that other kids had no idea about, and far from turning me into a wildchild, just gave me the street-smarts that other kids seemed to lack.

All I know is, I wouldn’t change it for the world.