An outrageous sortie on a pre-war BSA and two obscure, obsolete Yorkshire-made, single-cylinder Panther motorbikes.
Poorly funded, with little planning, the ride depends on good luck, blind loyalty and terminal optimism.
The struggle is managed with a youthful naivety.
This is a recollection of a youth well-spent.
Love and adventure are in the air with every chapter a precarious adventure.
I was parched and scarcely able to breathe but I pushed and shoved and swore, screamed, yelled and cried and somehow I got Penelope up that bloody hill and struggled on until I could see the brick outpost over a sand dune.
In the last 20 yards I bogged down again, and so leaving Penelope upright in the sand I staggered in, to the amazement of the soldiers.
I beg for water.
Tablo Pty Ltd No one said it would be easy: a youthful folly across the americas on old bikes, paperback/des molloy
