23/08/2026
When I ride no more, don’t speak too long of roads that vanished into the dusk.
Speak instead of laughter shared in cafes, clubs and gathering points at dawn,
and biking strangers who became friends, simply because we shared a common riding bond.
Remember me not as a biker gone for the day, but as someone who tried to leave warmth behind
them wherever they went.
If I cared for freedom, it was never only for myself, it was to make me a better person.
Because the road teaches you things. It teaches you that everybody is on a journey.
And kindness, like the engine we sit on, help us travel much further than we thought possible.
When my final journey comes, let there be motorcycles, biking jackets, worn boots,
old stories repeated badly, and laughter breaking through tears.
Let there be life.
But more than anything, let those I love know this, I was never trying to leave behind a reputation.
I was trying to leave behind reassurance.
To my family, my friends, my biking mates, I hope you remember that I cared.
I did my best to stand by people, and to lift their spirits when roads turned dark.
And most of all, tried to make others feel less alone.
In the end, we should not be remembered for the bikes we rode, but for the hearts we touched, while
travelling beside them.
