Lara and the trike tribe

Is it the whiff of petrol, the creak of leathers, the roar of the engine or the promise of speed which has turned Lara Masters into a would-be girl racer

Boys like bikes. Some girls do too. Some girls like boys on bikes. I’ve heard. I’m not saying that’s me. Or that I manipulated my way into writing this piece and meeting loads of bikers by throwing in the word “disabled”.

Due to the nature of biking and the fact that most bikers become disabled at least temporarily during the course of their biking career, finding disabled bikers is not difficult. At London’s renowned biker hang-out, the Ace Cafe, every biker I spoke to claimed to be disabled (one word: wannabees). They regaled me with stories of rear-endings, femur fractures and nostalgic recollections of months spent in wheelchairs. However, what happens when a biker acquires a severe and permanent injury i.e a real disability? Enter the trike!

Bike racer Smiffy (Dave Smith) came off his Suzuki 1100 in ’98; the bike flipped in the air and landed on him breaking his back. Now he uses a stick and a wheelchair but Smiffy couldn’t give up his wheels. With help from NABD (National Association of Bikers with Disabilities), he got a Kawasaki ZX12R 1199cc trike and continues racing against disabled and non-disabled bikers in the Straightliners series all over the UK.

“I love the freedom riding a bike gives you and the friendliness of every other biker and triker out there. You can turn up at any bike meet and talk to all kinds of people from all walks of life!”

In the name of research, I went to several “bike meets” to witness this camaraderie, joining bike enthusiasts as they gathered to show off their equipment. No one drinks because everyone is driving so there are just lots of sober men, clad in leather, comparing exhausts. It’s a quite beautiful subculture.

Every third Thursday of the month, NABD has a disabled bikers’ meet at the Ace and it was here that I spotted Peter and Spike 2 revving their beautiful beasts in the car-park, surrounded by an audience of cooing Harley riders.

Former motorcycle courier, Kunal Lindsay – aka Spike 2 (“Spike” had already been taken by another Ace biker), first started riding on the back of his dad’s motorcycle when he was two and has owned 19 bikes to date.

“Whenever I’m riding, any problem, it doesn’t matter what it is, it’s lifted, it’s gone and I’m grinning from ear to ear.”

But in 2002, Spike 2 was knocked off his bike and suffered a brain injury which developed into epilepsy. His licence was taken away and he’s unsure if he’ll get it back but he couldn’t envisage his life as bike-less. In 2006, Spike 2 customised a Kawasaki Z1300 trike with a grant from the NABD whom he’d avidly supported his entire biking career.

“NABD give people the emotional strength to even consider riding a bike again. My rep comes over and takes me for a five-hour ride on the back of my trike every week – before that I would just look at it. And cry over it.”

Seventy-two-year-old bike-lover Peter James Hill had other obstacles to getting on a bike; he always wanted to ride a motorbike but his parents wouldn’t let him and, when he got married, his wife wouldn’t let him. But his parents died and he divorced his wife and finally got a Suzuki Marauder at the age of 68. Then, just six months later, he had a stroke and it looked like his biking dream had come to an end.

A friend suggested he convert his bike to a trike but Peter had lost confidence by the time he received the completed trike. For months he would only ride it around the village car park, but gradually he got braver and now he’s never off it: “Riding my trike gives me such a feeling of independence, you don’t even have to wear a safety helmet!”

Tony Heaton of Shape Arts, who has a spinal-cord injury from a bike accident and currently rides “Lucky’s Trike” – a Yamaha XS 1100cc customised via an NABD grant – also echoes what seems to be universal biker sentiments.

“Riding a bike or trike gives you an amazing feeling of freedom; the wind in your face and the real contact with the blurred world you are passing through makes you smile until your jaws ache!”

This bike-glee is infectious. Just being around trikes and bikes, feeling their powerful roar reverberating under the tarmac and admiring their colourful, shiny frames gave me perma-grin. Plus there were lots of men in leather. It’s a wonder I didn’t get lock-jaw!