Today, the Frankfurt-Darmstadt Autobahn is four lanes in each direction. It was 11:30 a.m. on a sunny Sunday morning when I moved to the outside lane, clicked on my brights, got down behind the fairing and twisted the throttle to the stop. In preparation, I had pushed close to 135 mph; that's the speed where it feels like a fat man is sitting on your forehead due to the air resistance. Beyond 140, it felt like the wind was going to pluck me clean off the back of the bike. I remember hunching closer, not to reduce air resistance, but to help me cling on. Chin on the tank, yelling into my helmet, I passed 150, and was still gathering speed. We ran out of puff at 157. I held it there for a few seconds, just to check there was nothing left. Then a car moved into my lane, 200 yards up the road, so I rolled off the throttle - and it was over.