to survive for long away from its mother. Feeding it would be difficult. But putting it back in the woods would be tantamount to a death sentence. So, never a family to walk away from a challenge we set about feeding the little thing warm milk and against

I LOVE THE summertime me, and this year seems to be the first time for years I've been able to plan a ride out with a reasonable chance of remaining dry. It's also the first time for years I've done a bit of haymaking. My family used to do loads

to him or the family if he ever came to sell it. He explained that he was too old to ride now and was selling the bike. He’d heard that my dad had died but true to his word he wanted to give me first refusal on it. It was a 1953 Norton ES2, a 500cc long

It’s been another daft month for me but at last, with the racing season coming to an end, I’m looking forward to spending a few weekends with the family and hopefully indulge in a bit of the usual winter pass-time...off-roading.Some of my mates have

of development had been the same in cars over the same period you'd be able to buy a £17k family car with 900bhp. I've said it before and I'll say it again: we've never had it so good!

them out of the box. Remarkable. Golden Oldies EVEN OLD BIKES sometimes refuse to die. About 10 years ago I bought a Suzuki X7 with the intention of restoring it at some point. For various reasons (family commitments, incompetence, and general laziness

inside the kitchen I became aware of a small elderly lady wearing an apron cowering in the corner. Clearly very scared she just kept waving her arms about and saying "they're away" in a squeaky voice. I tried to explain I was a friend of the family

there for nothing. He wanted to go there. He wasn't just going over for the money. He were a clever lad and if the risks weren't worth taking for him he wouldn't have taken them. I feel for his family, Pauline and Tony - it's them that's left whose lives get messed

and Fizzie! We're the saddest people in the world.I went to a local bike shop to buy some bits for the Fizzie and as I was standing at the counter this lad said to me, "are you James Whitham? Me dad took me to see you racing years ago. What are you doing here

of pimply youths and sweet old ladies who, on a Sunday evening, were far too busy running round serving car loads of middle-class families and handing out lollies to kids who'd emptied their plate to notice that the lads on table eight, who'd polished off