I learned to ride a motorcycle, as everyone should, in a cow pasture. It won't kill you if you fall over, but there is plenty of incentive not to crash lying around in obvious lumps on the ground. My first bike was a Honda 135cc in the Hippiesque tradition. I bought it because the guy who had it before claimed he could find a good bike for me, or else. In this case, the "or else" meant if he couldn't, he'd sell me his own bike. Lucky me. Not a racer, exactly, the "Hao shuang", as it is known in Chinese, was more of a cruising bike, not suitable for street racing, and therefore probably a lot safer to ride, for me, anyway...

My second bike was my first of the proverbial "crotch-rockets", a 2-stroke 135 cc Honda HX racing bike called, in Chinese, "Wang Pai". It would wail up to about 140 kph. The thing sounded like a pressure cooker at idle and was equipped with warp drive.

My present bike is a black Yamaha RZR, also a crotch-rocket, called "Zhui Feng" or "chase the wind" in Chinese. At 12 years old, it is nearing the end of its usefullness, yet still manages to get me into various competitive situations. The engine is still alive, and it sounds that way, in the 2-stroke wail it emits when pushed.