I’ve been telling my story about how to live when motorcycles are the centre of your life and your death, your issues and satisfactions, your frustrations and your greatest achievements
And for the first time I am to write posts and publish my videos in two different languages. From now on the English version will be on the left side of the blog.
I started riding motorbikes at the age of eight more or less, if that bloody thing with pedals can be called a motorbike. It was an old Peugeot my dad traded for a Vespa. A shit in exchange for another shit.
However; it was clear before that that motorbikes were to be the centre of my own universe. I knew it fro my mum’s womb, when she used to ride dad’s old Montesa as a pillion.
May years and motorcycles passed by (more years than bikes) when I got my first big bike. The unbreakable Kawasaki EN500, the smallest of all Vulcans. A fat bike that I soon tripped in a long haul.
I went around Spain in five days, riding with my best buddy as a pillion, making something close to a thousand kilometres a day, just doing all sort of crazy stuff without having ridden a big bike longer than three months. It was nice we didn’t kill ourselves, despite my bad knee after crashing in the city of Teruel.
We arrived in the city full of energy, willing to party and hungry. We rode through its streets and we looked for all we wanted to fin. Solitary streets. Emptiness. Just like a western movie when the good guy arrives into town.
Suddenly two girls walking along the street, perfume smell, two guys on a bike trying to say inform the other about the only possible target in the whole city and a crash. Nothing serious, bruises and pain. Just another adventure to tell.
After lots of stories I decided to start a unique project…
I’ve always ignored clothing… and I have always dressed up like a mess. rock t-shirts rather than anything else at teenage years. That was totally me.
After having worn ugly clothing on the bike, I once decided to dress up like myself. The problem was that the clothes that represented myself protected shit. After the crash in Teruel, I learnt my elbows were okay due to the jacket protections, my knee was fucked, due to wearing regular jeans.
And so I had an epiphany and I created a clothing brand. I talked to a factory here, another one there, I asked quotes for a hoodie like the ones I normally wear when riding, but this one should have the same level of protection as a cordura jacket.
As soon as I got mine, lots of chaps started to ask about it, and some of them were even willing to order one. So I had no other option than making some more, and more… and I soon realised I would have to start a shop, then it was the YouTube channel, then the Instagram… and so I became another asshole on the internet.
But the one and only reason why all this makes sense is to ride bikes and live the motorcycle life. I dedicate my free time to teach, I have friends, I play in a Metal band… but I can only say I am alive when I’m riding on Vykie.
The Boar represents the strength, freedom and badass image of the brand
From now on this blog will also include Spanish posts, on the opposite column to these English speaking articles.