How I almost quit motorcycling

February 2011. The lights turn red and I hit the brakes. Donnell pulls up next to me on his Motorhispania, revving the little yellow 50 like there's no tomorrow. A grin is hidden behind my black visor. I blip the throttle on my Hyosung Gv125 a few times, the four stroke V twin purrs beneath me. The exhaust of the Motorhispania next to me, crackles and pops, emitting a cloud of blue, 2 stroke haze. The lights turn green.

A regular day out on the bikes soon turned into a nightmare

The fading sun of a February evening lingers for one last glimpse, before eventually giving in to the inky black sky. I'm gliding through the lamp-lit streets. Donnell just in front of me, crouching over his bike, determined to lose me. Still smirking, I twist the throttle back again. I start to creep closer. Still accelerating, I look down at my speedo to see how fast I was going. I looked back up.

That's when it all changed.

My mischievous laughter turns into a yell of shock. Donnell's brake lights were on. He was slowing down, fast. With not a lot of stopping distance, I look to drive around him but I see an on coming bus. I have no choice but to slam on the brakes.  A blur of colour and light swirled around my eyes. I hit the floor hard and slid across the road, my head hitting the floor.

I was lay in the road for what seemed hours. Nothing was going through my head. I was just blank. I gingerly got to my feet and stared at my bike. Still, nothing was going through my head. I could see Donnell picking our bikes up. I rushed over to help but yet again, my mind was paralysed. I just stared. Donnell's faint voice began to grow louder and louder, shouting to flick my sidestand out.

Eventually, I processed what he was saying, putting my bike on it's stand. I sat on a nearby wall, shaking. Not quite sure what was going on, my mind was a total block. Donnell was still talking to me. I could hear him, but I couldn't take anything in. I simply stared at what was once, a great conditioned bike.

The next day I began to seriously consider giving up biking. I began to convince myself that they were dangerous. I tried to make myself think that they were a stupid, impractical idea. Despite the freedom and joy that motorcycles have given me over the past 14 months, I was forcing myself to get rid of my 125. I didn't ride my bike for a few weeks, it remained untouched in the garage. I had lost all motivation.

But then I began to think about Guy Martin, Connor Cummins, Ian Hutchinson... TT racers that had all crashed a few months ago. They're all now back on their bikes, racing again. I then turned my thoughts to my father, who had suffered a terrible motorcycle crash back when I was twelve. He too, was back on a bike as soon as he could and still rides today. Which made me think... What sort of big, girl's blouse am I?

Never give up on something you love

I felt ashamed of myself, and still do. I'd had a relatively minor slip, walking out unscathed and began to consider giving up. Why give up on something that has changed my life so much? Those weak excuses for not having a bike flew straight out of my mind and have not since returned to this day.

I jumped on my Hyosung and have never looked back since. And I know for sure, that I never will.