In the Anatolian mountains of Turkey the summer sun burns so hot that it cracks the Tarmac. To ride in full biking gear is bordering on suicide, and you find yourself resorting to just a pair of shorts, a t-shirt and an old pair of boots. Wearing a helmet can feel like sticking your head in a microwave, so instead you strap it to your luggage, and pull your sunglasses out instead.
That’s where I am, riding through the Anatolian mountains. The sights are beautiful, the roads are rugged and the sun is beating down. What more could a bike traveller want? There is nothing left to do but smile, and as the childish grin spreads across my face it also seeps into my brain… meaning I was oblivious to the smoke wafting past me as I tackled a steep mountain road. Eventually the stench of smouldering plastic beat the grin from my face, and the low-pitched pops from the exhaust slowly retuned my mind.
Having bounced off the duffel bag, my Nolan helmet lay tangled and trapped in a cargo net, slowly roasting on the exhaust. The can had burned a hole the size of my fist straight through the outer shell, and the inner EPS – which was now just a crispy black wafer.
It was probably as good a time as any to buy a new helmet, but for the next 6,000 miles I didn’t. Maybe it was because of the improved ventilation system, or the additional storage space, or state of the art communication system I now had with a pillion… regardless the helmet carcass stayed with me until England.
How long have you kept something you really should have replaced? Send us in your pictures of battered and well-used gear!
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