Meet:- Dan Harris
Dan Harris
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Age:- Still growing-up
Occupation:- Weekdays - Classified
Weekends - bullied husband
Current Bike:- Honda Hornet, GSXR 750 |
Started Riding:- Around the same time I became aware of the tooth fairy
Fantasy Bike:- Joey Dunlop’s IOM TT 2000 winning Honda SP1 (please)
Favourite Road:- Anywhere but Oxfordshire
Favourite Circuit:- Donington Park |
History:- My first ride was a PW50 at the age of 5. Half a dozen or so frustrated bike less years followed, before I took-up schoolboy motocross, working my way up to a CR250. Last raced aged 17 at the BSMA national championships, during which I was T-boned (not the steak type) wrecking my bike and right leg. Having been the proud owner of a C50 on the road for about a year at the same age, I progressed to an MTX125 to pass my test. A ZZR600 followed, along with too many VFR’s and other Honda’s to mention. I joined the police in 1996, then joined the Traffic Department and earned (some efforts are more enjoyable than others) my class 1 advanced car and motorcycle tickets. Bikes are still by far my number 1 passion (apart of course from my wife whom I love beyond measure - in case she’s reading this xx).
Most Embarrassing Biking Moment:- My current bike was all of 3 days old (and the only bike I’ve ever bought from new). Its first bath time had arrived, and the venue was to be the most public arena I could muster (the road leading through the estate). A good soaking ensued whilst still on its side stand, before going to work with a sponge. I decided to place the bike on its centre stand (being as it hadn’t been used yet) and at this point things went awry. A lack of focus, a slippery sole, and a misplaced hand encourage Newton’s laws of physics to demonstrate their unfailing presence. Needless to say that the bike got to about 60 degrees before I couldn’t hold on, with it smashing uncontrollably into the back of my car followed by the tarmac. The whole estate (who had obviously all decided to be out doing their front lawns/ washing cars/ walking the dogs) had seconds before been enviously admiring my gleaming new steed. I managed to give them all a fine demonstration of intemperate Anglo-Saxon epithet, before running away to hide. I’ve still got the repair bill framed in the garage as a reminder of that afternoon’s complacency.
