Introduction

‘Speed. Danger. The two things go together like
 bread and butter, or trucks and trailers,
 or bits ’n’ bobs ... or do they?’

EOPLE often assume that I race motorbikes because I’m

addicted to speed, but that’s not strictly true. Speed on its own

isn’t always so exciting. On a racing motorbike I can do over 180

mph, which is fast, but not as fast as the airliners that we all climb aboard

to fly off on holiday. Modern passenger jets can cruise at between 500 and

600 mph, but sitting in an aeroplane like that for hours on end isn’t very

exciting, is it? In fact, passengers read books, watch movies or have a kip to

pass the time – travelling at over 500 mph can be really boring! It’s

certainly not dangerous. You might be thundering through the sky six

miles high, but you can find all sorts of statistics to show that flying is the

safest form of long-distance travel. The fact is, sitting strapped into an

airline seat watching an in-flight movie, you don’t even have much of a

clue that you are going fast. You can’t actually feel the speed in an airliner,

but you certainly can on a motorbike. It’s when you can feel the speed that

you get a sense of danger – and when the two come together there is

nothing else in the world that compares.

P

When I came off my bike during the Isle of Man TT in 2010, the feeling

when I knew that everything was going wrong and that I wasn’t going to

be able to hold on to the bike – at 170 mph – was unbeatable. That was a

proper buzz. Those few moments between being in control of what I was

doing, then losing control, and the instant between crashing and almost

dying were intense. That’s the ultimate feeling of danger. Money can’t buy

that feeling – it’s priceless. I like the idea that I have to get things right

when I’m racing. Fail to get it right and that’s it, game over, I’m dead.

Racing motorbikes may be the ultimate thrill for me, but it’s not the only

way to have fun with a bit of speed and a bit of danger. Racing mountain

Introduction    7