Flying into the face of fashion

It’s probably fair to admit it: I gave in to fashion and paid the price. It had been a while coming. I’d grown the beard, gotten the wax jacket and changed bike, from a sensible but

dull Yamaha XJ6 Diversion to a funky, cool XSR700. I was living the dream.

Swept up in enthusiasm for the whole hipster look, I purchased an open-face helmet and goggles. Perfect for the first bike-meet ride of the June heatwave. Oh, it was lovely riding there, with the wind in my beard. But then came the ride home, as the sun set over the Midlands. And all the midges came out.

If you’ve ever tried to comb about 300 dead insects, glued in place by their own exploded entrails, from the straggly wind-tangled mess of your own beard, you will understand my pain. If you haven’t… then let’s just say I’m a clean-shaven man in a full-face Shoei and leave it at that. John Simpson (not that one)