I remember it like yesterday, aged just 17 and bagging myself a battered VFR400. I only paid £500 quid for it, and it even came with petrol in the tank. As for the blowing exhaust, that was just character, right? And stripping half the bike to get to the rear cylinder manifold was just an education. I loved that bike; it never ran right, it never quite sounded right, and it looked like it’d been dragged through several hedges on several occasions… backwards. But it was brilliant, cherished and powered me through my first full season of racing. I was gutted when it went and it was only when we were putting this issue’s cover test together I realised the charmer I’d let slip… not to mention the bargain.