I. lhe NMM's SeriesARapide

What can I say? It's perhaps an obvious choice, having this machine at my number one, but for as long as I can remember, I was captivated by the famous picture of Ginger Wood on the Series A Vincent- HRD V-twin Rapide racer at Dorrington Park, shown facing; it was effectively a lifelong ambition to ride it.

The chances of the likes of me owning such a machine are long gone, which is just how it is. That's the case for the vast majority ofus, while I know I'm fortunate to be able to access our family's collection as well as, 'through the job; the opportunity to swing a leg over such exotica as this glorious, snarling beast.

How did it come about? Well, James Hewing at The National Motorcycle Museum had been invited to visit Vintage Revival Montlhery 2017,which led to us having a chat about it, with me saying I'd love to be part of the team. We reached a deal; I could ride the Series A twin, if I was able to get it there, organise (pay for) the ferries for the full NMM team, as well as put a new set of tyres on the big Vincent, and a few other bits and pieces.

As it was a case of realising mydream, set about it. Avon d a gratis set of tyres, and even better, Brittany Ferries agreed to a fabulous deal for us, which meant a big van, a pickup and trailer and six adults travelling for minimal outlay.

It wasn't just the twin we were taking; there was another Vincent, a single cylinder Series A and the big one's 'little brother; the fabulous 1930s 500cc V-twin New Imperial racer, my family 1929Velo KIT, the New Hudson belonging to another of the museum team, Bryn, and a spare flat-tank Sunbeam. Plus luggage, riding gear and so on, as well as all Gary the photographer's kit too. It was one very packed van.

We arrived at the track on the Friday, set ourselves up, had the bikes out and fuelled, all ready for Saturday. Then it was back to the hotel, a few beers, dinner with a big group of us, a lovely evening ... but the forecast for the following day wasn't good. It was shocking, actually.

I'd not come all this way to not ride, but a first ride on the Series A twin, in pouring rain, didn't seem wise. So I went out on the faithful, familiar KIT, to assess the situation. It didn't seem too bad - in fact, I was wondering why everyone else was going so slow ... - until I braked going into the hairpin, the whole thing slewed sideways, I ended up on the grass, though somehow (luck not skill) stayed upright.

Others weren't so fortunate

- the track, particularly every lap at the hairpin, was littered with beautiful motorcycles on their side ... The problem was all the old, open valve gear, total loss oil system vehicles (it's predominantly a car event) were just coating the track in lubricant. And there was rain water on the surface already, so the oil just floated on top. It was like an ice rink. Disappointed, I just didn't feel like I could risk the £1,000,000 Vincent in such conditions, though I had my first ride on it Saturday evening, up and down an access road, after the torrential rain had largely stopped. I could at least now say I'd ridden it, if nothing else! We left the circuit, pleased tomorrow was another day.

Though the Sunday wasn't perfect weather, it was a huge amount better. What followed was one of the most memorable days of my life. The Vincent was struck up for my first run and, although a little nervous, I wasn't too worried, although the track was still super slippery, covered in oil, sand and a bit damp. It was just a case of taking it steady, pointing the bike in the right direction and having a gentle ride. Which I did, and it was lovely.

Session two and I was a little more confident, actually letting the Vincent have its head a bit on the straights, as we gobbled up pretty much anything and everything else in front of us. I was still going very gingerly (certainly not very Ginger Wooderly) in the comers, but was realising that it was a big bike, that did need effort to move from side to side through the slow chicance. But get it upright, open the throttle and away if went, the sensation making me smile, the power evident, and I felt like I was at least having a 'proper' ride on it. Then it was over.

My day had been made even better when John Summers offered me the passenger seat in his 4½ litre Bentley, and I had a run around the track in a big green vintage supercar, having been fortunate enough to ride what was quite possibly the original superbike. That evening, tired, a little drunk and emotional (though that may have been the beers) I enjoyed a thoroughly good sleep. I didn't dream of riding the Vincent - my dream had now been fulfilled.