Old motorbike. My old motorbike. A Honda CB750FA. It was first on the road in 1981. My ownership came some seven or so years later. It was tatty, especially all the paintwork, and I suspected that the engine had previously 'blown', and had been rebuilt. Clues: a broken cooling fin; and no engine number. The number wasn't removed, the crankcases were obviously replaced, and there was no number stamped on the plate. The engine ran okay, but not quite as well as it should. I was saving to do it up.

(1988) A desire to get away from home, and back to Inverness, led to a change in job that wasn't was it was made out to be. Nothing like it. The last thing I wanted was to go back to doing quantity surveying. This fairly healthy and sporty type being stuck in a room with a chain smoking near alcoholic didn't help either. Another job change followed a few months later, which meant a healthier environment, but a much lower wage. The motorbike refurbishment, and any kind of luxuries, would have to be forgotten for a long while.

Six months later the tax and insurance have long since expired. It's off the road near my rented bedsit. There's a big padlock through the front wheel, that's obscured by a large shrub. Coming back from work one day, and I notice the handlebars have been straightened, as if someone's been sitting on it. "Blooming kids", I think to myself as I go to turn them back. Then I notice the ignition lock. It wasn't kids playing, but a thief trying to steal it. A screwdriver had been jammed in the lock, to force it 'on', with a view to riding the bike away. That big padlock must have stopped him, or them. Obviously no van to lift the (over 500lbs!) bike into.

A couple of weeks later, and something's not right with the bike again. The plastic coating of the padlock had been cut through, and the hardened steel below was (merely) scratched by someone trying to hacksaw through it. They (or he) failed. What they didn't fail to do, was to take off the alternator cover with the stator coils and other bits attached to it; cut the cable; and steal those bits. They're still missing in the photo above. A couple of the bolts were left lying on the ground. If you came prepared with the right tools, it would take less than a minute.

I was horrified to find out how much new replacement parts would cost. Over £300 - which there was no way I could afford. Selling the bike as complete and working, was no longer an option. At the Police station I was appalled at the total lack of interest shown by the local constabulary. They wouldn't even take any kind of note of the matter whatsoever. Or perhaps that was just the apathetic one(s) that were faced at the bench. I did explain that as it wasn't a common bike, that it had to be someone locally that had one the same. Can't be that difficult to look up via DVLA (or was it DVLC back then?). Heck they may even have records of them crashing such a bike (the most likely cause of needing these bits). This normally mild mannered and quiet person wouldn't let them off with such these days. And is always dubious about "reported crime" figures as a consequence.

Employment prospects eventually improved, but the desire for my own place overcame the more youthful desires to experience the open road. Parts were obtained... by honest means. The bike retained its "some day" project status for a year or two... or five... or ten, or...

And here it sits. Soon to be owned and used by another. I've been locating bits that have gradually spread far apart over the years. Three home moves since I lived in Ardconnel Street, Inverness, haven't helped there. It was fun when it went. Darned fast acceleration. Much bigger, heavier, and more complex than the type of thing I'd normally go for. Or indeed, the other one...