Others ride, you drive. You cruise the roads with your elbow in the air, singing the Beach Boys and making those harmonies ring. Your hair is like a sculpture by Damien Hirst, your armpits are as dry as the surface of the moon, and you draw people's eye as you meander here and there in the chinos everyone will be wearing next season.
You feel electric that night and have literally the best bowl of muesli ever next morning.
BONUS TIP: Each time everyone sits around to reminisce about the time they rode out to Upper Fieldton you will fall silent, stare into your beer stein, espresso cup or bidon. Your jaw will slacken and your posture will droop and as they laugh you will feel the pealing regret of a life half-lived.
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