11/09/2026
What Your Bike Tells Me About You
I can tell who you are before your helmet's even off. The bike's already snitched.
1. Harley-Davidson. Nowhere to be, and determined the whole neighbourhood can hear it. Every other Harley gets a nod, sometimes a full stop-and-chat mid-ride. "Drop a gear and disappear," they say. Mate, you're doing 40 in fourth. You are not disappearing anywhere. I ride a Harley. I love it. It's a collector's bike. I have to stop every 5 miles and go back and collect bits that have fallen off it.
2. Indian. A bike for Harley riders who know better. Same swagger, better manners — and unlike your mate two cafes ahead, nothing's fallen off it by the time you get here.
3. Ducati. Red and yellow Ducatis are, hands down, the most photogenic bikes I shoot. The Naomi Campbell of the road — beautiful, and just a little bit terrifying. Whatever else is happening where I am, I'm dropping it for the shot.
4. BMW GS. Panniers loaded for a twelve-mile ride to the café. You've been to Mongolia and I'll hear about it before I've finished checking my settings. Fantastic bikes. Relentless conversationalists. The blue and red photograph brilliantly. They're slow too — which makes them easier for me to catch.
5. Triumph. Tasteful, just a little smug about it, definitely used to have a BSA and will mention it unprompted. Your bikes ooze sophistication and you know it.
6. Honda. Could be a Fireblade, could be a Gold Wing, somehow it's always the same energy: sensible, dependable, still running long after the rest of us have given up and gone home. The bike your dad wanted you to buy. He was right.
7. Yamaha. The mate who's quietly good at everything and never mentions it. Reliable, properly quick, and half the time better than the bike next to it that's making all the noise.
8. Suzuki. GSX-R, mostly, ridden like you've got something to prove — usually to whoever's on the Ducati. Loud, fast, a little bit unhinged. I mean that as a compliment.
9. Kawasaki. Team Green till the day you die. You'll defend that colour scheme with your last breath, and to be fair, on a Ninja, you don't really need to.
10. KTM. That orange. Every single time, whatever I'm doing, I stop and watch it go past. "Ready to Race" isn't a slogan on you lot, it's a threat. Black bikes are tough to photograph. KTM orange is a delight.
11. Royal Enfield. Doing 50 and loving every second of it while the rest of the group waits at the top of the hill checking their watches. You've made peace with something the rest of us are still fighting. When I grow up, I'll ride a thumper.
12. Trikes. The knees went, so the wheels multiplied. Always first in the queue to actually buy the photo — properly printed, not just nicked off Facebook (I see those watermarked profile pictures - naughty). My favourite customers. Except….
13. Scooters. Everyone assumes you're not a "real" biker right up until you're gone off the lights before they've found second gear. Quietly the funniest bunch to shoot. It's a rare day when a scooter rider goes past without a huge grin on their face.
14. Husqvarna. Effortlessly cool. Look incredible. I see you at every single event and yet I don't know one of you personally. Where do you all live? Is there a facility? Are you assembled off-site, fully slick, and delivered by helicopter? Where is the state of Husqvarnia? I'd like to live there — but I wouldn't fit in.
15. The new Aston Martin. See the last photo. I didn't take it, sadly. 300 of these will ever exist, and Aston Martin haven't announced a price — which is usually a sign the number has more zeroes than most mortgages. You're not richer than Bezos. You're richer than someone who's richer than Bezos. I'll shoot it for free. Just let me have a quick go on it first.
And me? I'm the one folded into a little chair in the hedge, freezing, living off a flask of tea, judging every single one of you affectionately and wishing I was riding instead of trying to earn a living making you look fantastic.
Tag yourself and your bike. Or tag the mate whose bike says more about them than they'd like to admit.
