One day, I shall reminisce about these reminiscences

Between the ages of roughly 18 and 19, I rode a Kawasaki GPZ 250 motorcycle. It was similar to the bike in this pic, except it had been painted light blue and had a luggage rack fitted to the rear. I purchased it from a workmate of my father's. There were signs it had been in a serious accident, e.g. a visible repair to the handlebars. The morning I took delivery, I went riding with my pal BP (who owned a Yamaha RZ 250), pushed it to ~160km/h, almost got into trouble on a roundabout and never repeated that stupidity. I mainly used it for travelling to the cinema where I was as an usher or to PG's joint. A lone experimental trip to uni was enough as I hugged the bike for warmth (due to the lack of fairing) and was tailgated by semitrailers on the mostly single-lane highway. I recall an occasion where I was heading home from the cinema around midnight and the headlight suddenly went out on the deserted coastal road. It was pitch black. Amazingly, I found the high beam still worked, so I left that on for the rest of the way. BP removed the luggage rack for me and resprayed the beast a racing red. I then sold it to an acquaintance of ours. I'd had it slide out from under me in loose stones (minor damage) and nearly been collected by a 4WD (their fault entirely), and concluded that motorcycling was too hazardous for a person of my limited dexterity. The dude who bought the "Kwacker" made the mistake of allowing the local hooligans to borrow it. From what I heard, the bike ended up a burnt-out wreck. My matching red helmet and gloves reside in the top of a wardrobe at Mum and Dad's, the only proof of a brief foray into the outlaw lifestyle ;-)