There once was a boy who lived in a kindom far, far away and each day his dad would put him on a motorbike so that he could play. The bike was big and white with read patches and each time the little boy knocked his hands on the tank it made a mysterious and funny sound. The handlebar and dials were too far away but every now and then he would try to climb across the tank to reach them.  Every morning his dad would drive him on the big bike all the way to the school that was a few blocks away. The helmet was orange and the sunglasses were blue. Daddy’s helmet was black and white because grownups don’t need any colors.  Today the little boy has got two motorbikes of his own and his dad has started to appreciate colors, especially the ones in grey tones. Complexity comes with age, obsession by birth.

Now it is time for the father to rekindle his youth and the boy to morph into a teen. Riding together as a family is the strongest bond and each moment to be cherished. Lead the way into the great wide open roads that are far away from the cities and highways. Out on the roads that lead to adventure, to places and people we have not seen or met before. The magic that happens when you are lost, riding together towards the unknown. Soon the season is here and when it does, we will be ready, as a family!