Blown away on a bike

Sometimes I feel as if I’ve been riding motorcycles longer than Mick Jagger has been singing for the Stones. Sometimes when I haven’t owned one, I have lain awake, listening to the rising, falling wail of solitary, high-speed bikes on the nearby motorway as the midnight riders move through the gears. It gives me an idea of the envy and excitement domesticated dogs must feel when they hear wolves or jackals howling in the woods.
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