Life has brought many changes to my life since this fateful Christmas now so many years ago... Every year at this time, as we've prepared for the holidays, I've found myself secretly wandering through the corridors of my mind to the hidden corners that hold the memories of Christmases past... And among these, there is one that stands out from all the others including those that were both good and bad... In fact, I first wrote about it during the summer of 2009. It was the Christmas of 2006, which was the first Christmas of my life when I was truly and hopelessly in love.
For most of my life, Christmases had always been both a blessing and a curse. And though I always looked forward to Christmas coming, for many years of my life, it never really came at all for me... For most of my adult years I was alone and unhappy, afraid of the truth of my own heart. But once I found the courage to embrace the truth, there came a Christmas like no other before or since... this is the story of that Christmas, a Christmas past... and a Christmas that I am always remembering.
A Christmas To Remember
I was last with Stephen Christopher Harris for Christmas of 2008 enduring great cruelty. The story of that Christmas is nothing to tell... but the story of how that came to be began several years before as Christmas 2006 approached and I found myself truly and deeply in love with him, believing I'd met the man I'd spend the rest of my life with. And although I'd only just experienced the joys of being free to love for the first time in my life, I was quickly learning that with love comes pain and sometimes unbearable heartache.
I remember how in November 2006, Stephen told me that he didn't celebrate Christmas (owing to his being raised as a Seventh Day Adventist). And so in Charlotte, in 2008, we didn't celebrate Christmas at all. Although I suspected he enjoyed himself at his employer's Christmas party... when he came home that evening, he offered me the last piece of candy from a box he got as a party favor. Nevertheless, despite what he'd say about Christmas, I recall I always found it quite ironic that when he lived here in Detroit, he lived in a veritable Christmas Palace.
Mike Fisher goes all out for Christmas. He hires professional decorators to come into his mansion and transform it with 15 foot Christmas trees and evergreen boughs and garlands everywhere... Angels and holly, mistletoe and golden cherubs adorn every niche and console. You'd half expect Santa to descend the stairs carrying the baby Jesus.... When I saw the house that first year, I was awestruck. Yet Stephen told me he didn't care for Christmas at all, though he celebrated it with Mike every year... He even left me on Christmas Day 2006 to take Mike Fisher a Christmas present, having discussed with me his struggle in deciding what to get him that year.
That was our first Christmas together... Stephen did buy me a gift... a pair of gloves, a set of ear warmers and a bag of coconut candies (yes, I still have a few of them preserved as mementos). But two weeks before that Christmas of 2006, we set a spending limit on our gifts to each other. I spent exactly the amount he prescribed on a gift he didn't take to his rooms in Mike Fisher's mansion until July 7, 2007, which was the day he made he made me a sacred promise that he never kept... Nevertheless, I remember that Christmas of 2006 as if it were yesterday and I remember it as one of the happiest of my life.
In the days, months and years that followed, I often told Stephen that Christmas Day 2006 was the best day of my entire life and that it would only ever be eclipsed by our wedding day... This despite the fact that I had just before that Christmas endured the greatest disappointment I'd ever known in my life, when because Stephen Christopher Harris lived his life in fear, he failed to follow through on the plans we'd made to marry later that winter... I knew even then that it was unlikely that he'd ever keep his promise that we'd be married... but I loved him nonetheless.
In late October 2006, Stephen and I, recognizing (I thought) that we were deeply in love, agreed that we were going to marry in Ontario, Canada on January 15, 2007 and begin a new life together. So by mid-December, I had investigated what we needed to do to obtain our marriage license in Canada. I'd also found a wedding facilitator to help us arrange a ceremony in Windsor. But because I was divorced, Canadian law required a few extra steps including a Canadian lawyer's opinion on my U.S. divorce. And so because of this, Stephen and I needed to apply for our license at least 4 weeks before our intended marriage date.
I'd obtained the applications and Stephen came over to fill them out with me on a sunny mid-December day. When he arrived he said he couldn't find his passport (I knew that was a lie), which was required of non-citizens of Canada. But we sat down anyway and he stared at the forms for more than a few minutes before he finally picked up his pen to write his name down. He didn't get much past "Stephen..." and when I asked him what was wrong, at first he didn't say anything. Then as he crumpled the form, he said, "I can't do it, I can't marry a man, it's against God's word..." I was dumbfounded, but not completely surprised - we'd had much discussion about this before that day, and I was then and still am of the opinion that "God" was just a convenient excuse for Stephen to avoid commitment to anything or anyone. But despite everything that had been said before that day, he agreed we'd be married and he and I knew it was the only way we'd ever know any real freedom and happiness.
That day, as we sat looking at the crumpled form, rather than each other, Stephen complained that we didn't need to be married. He said he could be faithful, truthful, honest, loving, and caring and my partner for life without a marriage between us. And though I knew what he was saying was not so, and I knew because of a "word of wisdom" I'd received, I tried to accept what he was saying. I loved him with all my heart, and as I finally looked into his eyes, I told him I'd think about it and try to go along with what he wanted, even though it made a liar out him and a heretic out of me. That day was about a week before Christmas 2006.
Although we talked every day and saw each other almost every day during that week before Christmas, I was deeply hurt that he'd gone back on his word and his promise... That we were supposed to be beginning a new life together and that now it's starting point would be the greatest lie and disappointment I'd ever experienced was a hard pill for me to swallow. But love is a strange thing, and my love for Stephen was true and absolute... and because of that, I found I was willing to do almost anything to make the one I loved happy. So, I struggled to resign myself to what he said he wanted for us and our relationship as I prepared for our first Christmas together.
Looking back on those days, I think in Stephen's mind, he believed that because we were going to celebrate Christmas together, that was a sufficient consolation for me... That November, when he told me about his not celebrating Christmas, I shared with him how the Christmas holiday had always had great significance to me in terms of tradition and more importantly, it's effect on my well-being. And so as it meant so much to my happiness, he acquiesced and agreed that we'd celebrate the day together with the exchanging of gifts (as he admitted he'd always done with Mike Fisher) and a special dinner that I'd prepare for us.
When I was explaining the importance of Christmas for me to Stephen, I told him of how when I was a boy, Christmas was the only "peaceful and happy time" for me during the course of a year. And as I explained what my life had been like before he came into it, he seemed to understand why Christmas still engendered such feelings for me. I told him of how when I was a boy in school, I was the subject of constant bullying and ridicule because somehow the other kids could tell I was gay... and of how I'd come home from that everyday, to experience the violence in my family's home resulting from the break up of my parent's marriage. And then, there was always my older brother to deal with... he having discovered I was gay, he made life at home a living hell for me from when I was ten years old onward.
But at Christmas, there was "Peace" - I didn't have to go to school, so no daily whipping from my father because I didn't want to go. There were no bullies to deal with, no fights, no running, no hiding... And my parents always declared a "Christmas Truce" and things were always calm (even loving) between them the entire week of Christmas and through to New Year's Day... Even my brother, who I had come to hate for his mistreatment of me, even he pretty much let me be during that time of year... Yes, "Peace and Goodwill," and something akin to "well-being" became highly associated in my heart and mind with Christmas - so much so, that by Christmas Day 1980 (which was also the day my father left our family home for the last time) I would forever look forward to Christmas and the traditions and celebrations that reminded me of the two weeks or so that I felt human every year as a troubled boy and later a fearful young man unable to embrace the truth of his own heart.
And so, I decided to relish my consolation from him... And so to thank Stephen for his consideration of my "need" for Christmas, I told him the menu for our dinner would be whatever he wanted... This is what he chose:
Appetizer - Deviled Eggs and Relishes
Soup - Creamy Tomato Basil
Entree - Beef Wellington and Asparagus with Hollandaise Sauce
And even though my heart was very heavy realizing the man I loved was not a man of his word - and not the man I thought he was... but because I loved him, I prepared for Christmas by cleaning the house and shopping for the special meal he wanted. And although I was still very upset by Stephen’s failure to follow through on his promise that we’d be married, all that week I prepared for a Christmas to remember.
I didn’t do elaborate decorations, in fact nothing like what Stephen had been used to seeing at Mike Fisher’s mansion, but instead I set out my table top Christmas tree, and on the server in the dining room, my Nativity Scene. A hearty Poinsettia on the living room coffee table rounded out the decorations that year. In the Florida room, which is where we’d spend most of our evenings, the 15 or so Christmas cards that had arrived were the focal point of my holiday decor in that room.
I had to work all that week leading up to Christmas, including that Saturday. So on Sunday morning, Christmas Eve, I got up early to start my preparations for our Christmas dinner. I baked the desserts and finished the last of the house cleaning. At the time, I had been doing some redecorating and painting around the house… So that afternoon, I was re-hanging some paintings and other art on the walls when I remembered that I hadn’t bought any ginger ale (Stephen likes ginger ale), so I decided to run out to the store to get some.
I was gone about 40 minutes, and when I returned home, as I opened the front door, I heard a loud crash. But I didn’t think twice about it though, as I had hung a large painting over the bed just a couple of hours earlier and I was doubtful about the size of the hooks I’d used… And so when I heard the crash, my first thought was, “That picture just fell…” But as I opened the vestibule door, I saw the source of the noise. On the floor about 10 feet in front of me, at the foot of the staircase were several boxes (Christmas gifts for late sister Ora Jean) that had been in one of the guest bedroom closets. Within a fraction of a second, I realized that I had a burglar in the house with me and that he was probably standing just out of my sight on the staircase.
As my heart was racing, so was my mind… What to do? Then almost without thinking, I shouted, “I’m gonna go out, so you can!” And with that said, I slowly backed out of the front door. And just as I stepped across the threshold, I saw the burglar step off the stairs and run towards the back of the house. I called the police from my cell phone while standing on my front porch. When I told the operator what was happening, she said a car was on the way and then she asked what I was wearing… I couldn’t help asking her why she wanted to know, and she explained she wanted to inform the responding officers so that I wouldn’t be mistaken for the intruder. I promptly told her that I had on black twill slacks, a plaid shirt, a black sweater and a beige jacket. The operator told me to wait outside for the police who should be arriving in a moment.
My call to 911 lasted less than a minute and though help was said to be on the way, I felt frightened to be outside in the cold waiting for the police. In my mind, I wanted to be cared for and made safe and so I called Stephen and he answered almost immediately… I told him what was happening, and he said he was on his way to me… he told me to stay on the phone with him and he told me not to worry, I’d be alright and he was on his way. As I talked to Stephen, I walked towards the back yard thinking I could tell the police in which direction the burglar had gone. But when I reached the gate, in the darkness I couldn’t see much in the yard. But then I noticed some movement at the alley gate next to the garage.
The burglar was huddled in the corner next to the locked gate which he couldn’t get open. Suddenly, he turned and saw me looking at him and he ran towards me out of the narrow passageway between the fence and the garage. And as I described this scene to Stephen, he told me to run, but I couldn’t seem to move my feet. Thankfully, the burglar didn’t come towards me as he cleared the garage, but instead he ran to the other corner of the yard where the fence is only four feet tall. I remember that I watched almost transfixed by the surreal scene, as the burglar struggled to climb the ornamental fence. In hindsight, it was almost comical to see him struggling to get a leg over the fence as there was no place to get a foot hold through the vertical pickets. And in a brief moment of insane thought, I wanted to go give him a leg-up, just so that he’d be gone.
Finally, the burglar made it over the fence and just as I watched him run down the alley, I heard a police cruiser come to a screeching halt in front of the house. I told Stephen to hold on as I walked towards the police with my hands up saying I was the homeowner. I told them that the burglar had just run down the alley and I pointed in the direction he’d gone as I told them what he was wearing… in a flash the two police officers took off running for the corner. I put the phone back to my ear and Stephen said he was in his car and on his way to me. He told me not to go into the house until the police came back as the thief might not have been alone. I told him that I wouldn’t and that I’d be waiting for him. As I hung up, a strange sense of calm washed over me and I realized that indeed I felt “safe and loved” and I thought to myself, maybe what Stephen had been saying he wanted for our relationship could work.
A minute or two later, I saw the police walking back towards the house, the burglar had escaped. They asked if I’d gone back in and I told them I hadn’t. They asked me to wait on the porch as they searched the house to ensure no one else was hiding anywhere. In a few moments they came back downstairs and waved for me to come in. They asked me all the particulars: what had happened; the time I discovered the break-in; my name and contact information, etc. They showed me the window in the Florida room that the burglar had broken to gain entry into the house. He’d thrown a huge chunk of concrete through one of the largest windows in the house.
The police officers were really kind and complimented me on the work they could see I’d put into my old house. They asked me if I was living here by myself… I said, “Yes, but I hope that’s changing soon…” a thinly veiled reference to Stephen and I beginning our life together. But I didn’t say more than that and I let them assume whatever they wanted to. They asked me not to touch anything in the house if I could help it, as "CSI" and the detectives where coming. The officers said they’d try to get the burglars finger prints and collect a DNA sample from the blood he left behind as he had cut himself climbing through the broken window. They said the detectives would arrive shortly and asked if I’d be okay by myself… I told them someone was on the way and with that they left.
After the police left, I stayed at the front door watching for Stephen, and in a couple of minutes, he arrived and I was relieved. He ran up to the door and came in asking me if I was okay. As I shut the door, he put his arms around me and told me everything would be okay, he said he loved me (and I believed him) and I felt safe. I told him we had to be careful to not touch anything as I took him back to show him where the burglar had broken in. I remember that year, it was very cold that night and the house was freezing as cold air rushed in through the broken glass. Stephen and I sat in the living room to wait for the detectives and the CSI technicians.
I lit the fireplace to give us some warmth, and as we sat together in the dimly lit room with the shadows from the fire dancing on the walls around us, I realized that I felt more safe than I had ever felt in my life… to paraphrase Stephen, I felt like I was “not alone in the world.” And as we sat there together, he told me as he drove to the house, he was scared something might happen to me… He said he didn’t know what he’d do without me. Then he kissed me, saying he was glad I was okay, and that he’d prayed for that as he was driving. As we sat there waiting for the detectives, through the windows we could see a few snowflakes beginning to fall, it looked like a white Christmas would be arriving later that night.
As we watched the snow softly falling creating a fluffy white blanket over everything, an unmarked police cruiser with the detectives pulled up in front of the house. I went to the door and I invited them in and they asked me to show them where the burglar had come in. I took them through the house while telling them what happened and they and I sat at the dining room table as they filled out their reports. Stephen stayed in the living room sitting next to the little Christmas tree, not quite in hiding, but not making himself fully present either. As the detectives finished their paper work, one of the men called the CSI technicians asking them how long before they’d arrive and was told they were already on their way. After a few more minutes sitting at the dining room table exchanging pleasantries with the detectives, the CSI team arrived.
When the door bell rang, I listened to see if Stephen would go to the door… When he didn’t, I excused myself, went to the door and then escorted them to the detectives in the dining room. I excused myself again and I went to the living room to ask Stephen if he was okay. He said he was and that he was going to wait for me there until the police were gone. I said, okay. The detectives had me show the CSI officers the two bedrooms the burglar had ransacked and when I did, I left them to do their work of trying to collect fingerprints. When I came back downstairs, the detectives said the CSI team would take over from there and that after they’d done their work downstairs and in the Florida room, I could board up the broken window. I thanked them for their prompt response and I showed them to the door.
I went to the living room and I told Stephen what was happening and that I loved him. He whispered in a faint soft voice, that he loved me too just as we heard the CSI techs come down the stairs. They said they wouldn’t be too much longer and then we could board up the window. I left Stephen again to gather my tools and I went out to the garage to see if I had some suitable lumber and boards to close up the window opening. When I went back into the house, the technicians said they were through inside and wanted me to show them the part of the fence where the burglar might have touched it. I showed them and they thought they’d be able to lift prints from the smooth surfaces of the fence pickets. While they worked, I measured the window and out in the yard, I cut some plywood and a 2x4 brace to fit into the window.
I went inside and asked Stephen to help me by holding the board up from the inside while I drilled the holes to insert the bolts through the board and the brace. While I was doing this, the CSI techs had moved to the other corner of the yard where the burglar had managed to the climb the fence. Just as I finished fastening the board, their flashlights gave out and I told them I’d get them one from the house. When I came back with my lantern, they asked if I could open the gate so they could get to the back of the fence. I did and I held my lantern to light the way for them. As I was standing there watching them work, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something on the ground peaking through the snow… shining the lantern on it, I discovered the burglar had dropped his gun while climbing over the fence. The CSI techs carefully bagged and tagged it and commented on what a lucky escape I’d had… I agreed.
The CSI officers finished up and left and I told Stephen about the gun in the alley. He hugged me and said thank goodness I thought to go back out of the house when I realized what was happening. Together we started to clean up the mess in the house. In the Florida room, there was shattered glass everywhere. The specially tempered security glass I'd ordered for the windows in house when it did break, broke in what seemed like finely ground glass that embedded itself into the fabric of the sofa and chairs and pillows. We finally decided to try to vacuum it out of the fabric and that worked. Then we moved all of the furniture out of the room so we could clean the floor and then put everything back. Then we dusted and polished the furniture in the other rooms and wiped down the doorknobs and door frames which were covered by the finger printing dust that the CSI technicians had used. We finally finished sometime after midnight, Stephen asked me if he could stay the night with me. I smiled as I held him in my arms and said, “Please do stay with me, Dearest…”
After we showered, I got on my knees at the side of the bed to pray as I had always done and Stephen joined me there. I prayed aloud as I thanked God for protecting me from harm that day and for sending me my true love after such a long wait... I asked God to bless and keep us both, and to bless our love… And as we both said, “Amen” we climbed into bed in the still chilly house. Together we listened to the gentle hum of the furnace running in the basement as Stephen snuggled up behind me and held me in his arms and said, “Merry Christmas, Dear Heart, I love you.” I turned and kissed him and said, “I love you too, with all my heart.” And as he held me in his arms, I drifted off to sleep that early Christmas morning…
When I woke later Christmas morning, I was still in Stephen's arms… I slowly turned to face him trying not to wake him. And as I lay there with his arm draped loosely over me, as I gazed into the face that had brought me both incredible joy and undeniable sorrow, I realized that a dream was coming true… It was in fact one of the long-held, precious desires of my heart that was then after many, many years finally being fulfilled. For the first time in my adult life, I was not alone on Christmas again. I savored the moment as I wondered if Stephen could be right, that we could be "one" even without the promises and commitments of marriage.
As the late morning sun began to beam brightly through the window, Stephen began to stir from his slumber… Finally, I dared to kiss him and as he opened his eyes, he smiled a kind of smile that I’d only rarely seen from him. He looked truly happy and I knew that in that moment I was happy too. “Merry Christmas, Dearest,” was the first thing I said to him, and then I asked if he was ready for breakfast. He said he was hungry and that he wanted coffee as well. Leaving him with a parting kiss, I went to make our Christmas breakfast and his coffee. And a few minutes later, I came back with his coffee on a tray. I found him still in bed with a wonderfully wistful look on his face and when I asked what he was thinking about, he simply said, “How happy you make me.” I kissed him and told him breakfast would be ready in about 15 minutes.
I wasn’t quite done cooking when I heard Stephen coming down the steps with the coffee tray. He brought it into the kitchen and set it on the counter and then he kissed the back of my neck and went into the Florida room to wait for breakfast. Just as I was placing the food on the warmed plates, he came back to the kitchen doorway saying how drafty it was because of the boarded up window. He carried my plate and I carried his to the dining room table and he insisted that I sit at the head of the table that morning (a privilege I’d only ever allowed him and no one else).
As we enjoyed our breakfast of steak and eggs, from where I was sitting, I could see the beautiful Christmas lights decorating the home of the neighbor at the corner. The beautiful scene of the lights blanketed in fluffy snow brought the joy of a White Christmas to life for the first time. With a beautiful holiday scene just outside the window and my beloved at my right hand, all seemed right with the world… it was a precious moment that I’ll never forget.
As I told Stephen of what I could see from the window, I told him of how I’d always wanted to see the Wayne County Lightfest in Hines Park with someone I loved, he promised we’d go together to see it. I was thrilled. As we ate and talked, I was truly happy… I told him of what it had felt like to be alone on all those Christmases past and how his being there with me made me truly happy. I shared with him some of my fondest recollections of Christmas when I was a boy. I told him about my favorite toy – “Grippity Gravity,” and how I’d been searching for one most of my adult life.
When we finished breakfast, I went and got some old towels and used them to insulate the gaps around the board in the window then I left him to watch television while I washed the dishes. When I returned in a few minutes, Stephen said the towels had really helped and I took my usual spot behind him on the sofa as he lay in my arms with his head upon my breast as we watched television. After a short while, Stephen stirred to say he was going to have to leave for a while… He said he had to change his clothes and then exchange Christmas gifts with Mike Fisher. Although my heart sank to hear him say that he was going, I didn’t let it show and I didn’t protest, I just asked what time he wanted to have our dinner. He said around 5, and though I hoped he’d be back sooner, I said, okay.
I got my coat and his, and I went out to brush the snow off of our cars and to shovel the walkways. He came out just as I got his car windows cleared and he paused in the street with me, saying he loved me and would be back as soon as he could. Though I could sense he wanted to kiss me, I could also tell he was afraid to though there was no one else on street. I said, “I love you, hurry back to me, Dearest… You’re my reason,” and with that said, Stephen jumped into his car and drove away as I waved to him. As I shoveled the snow from the walkways, I reflected on how happy I felt. In my mind, I could hear my own voice offering God my thanks for having heard my prayers for someone to love… Already, this Christmas was different from all the rest.
When I came in from the snow, I lit the fireplace and I sat down next to the little Christmas tree where Stephen had been sitting the night before when the police were there. The glow of the fire seemed to cast a magic light on the room, and it was then that I realized just how different the world looked through the eyes of love… despite all that had happened the night before, everything seemed beautiful… all was right with the world. Then, the sound of a text message arriving stirred me from my happy daydream.
The text was from Stephen, it said, “I love you, Dear Heart. I’ll be back soon.” I quickly replied, “143-2” (I Love You Too) and then I went to finish preparing the special meal he asked for…
Although I had prepped most of the Christmas meal the day before, there was still quite a bit to do. I still had to sear the steaks, make the filling for and assemble the Beef Wellingtons; so when I got to the kitchen, I started with that. While I was sautéing the mushrooms, the phone rang and it was my sister, Lisa. She was calling to wish me a merry Christmas and to again invite me to her family’s Christmas dinner. I thanked my sister and told her that I was busy cooking a meal for Stephen and I, but that if it was okay, we’d (Stephen and I) stop by later to bring them a gift. My sister said, “Of course you can come by, we’d love to meet Stephen.” Having only just come out that fall, hearing my sister say that was like another dream come true… finally, I could share my love for another with my family.
While I was wrapping the Wellingtons, my older sister called… Like Lisa, Ora Jean wished me a merry Christmas and I mentioned that I might stop by later to bring her a gift. She said that would be wonderful… I told her that I might not be alone, and it took her a moment to figure out what I meant, then with a very verbal “ohhhh,” she too said, “Okay.” I thanked her and told her I loved her and that I appreciated her willingness to be accepting of who I loved. I went back to work in the kitchen, and just as I was finishing the deviled eggs, another phone call… it was Billy (my first boyfriend), he wished me “Happy Christmas” and asked if I’d gotten his gift in the mail. I told him that I had received his package, but that I hadn’t opened it yet… I had been waiting for Christmas Day. He informed me that as it was now Christmas, I could open it, but I told him I would later in the day as I thanked him for it and for his continued love and friendship.
The whole time I was talking to Billy, I felt very uncomfortable… Strangely, it felt wrong to be talking to him, although our conversation was only that of “friends.” I’d told Stephen a great deal about Billy and what a wonderful man I’ve thought him to be. I knew that I’d tell Stephen that I’d talked to him, and although Billy was no rival for my Stephen's affection, I was afraid it might somehow ruin the mood of the day. I thought perhaps Stephen might be jealous. As I put the finishing touches on the desserts and seasoned the soup, I pondered when and how I’d tell Stephen about the call and also about the gift that had come a few days before. When Stephen and I “committed ourselves to each other" and were planning our marriage, I knew that soon I’d have to end my friendship with Billy.
I was truly afraid that the innocent phone call from Billy, combined with the as yet unknown gift might Title: Triumph Speed Twin 900 2025: classica sì, ma più sportiva
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Triumph Speed Twin 900 2025: classica sì, ma più sportiva
Triumph
Speed Twin
900 2025
Luca54
La best seller delle modern classic di Hinckley si presenta nel 2025 più in forma che mai. La Speed Twin 900 conferma il suo stile tradizionale ora arricchito da un pacchetto tecnologico ancora più completo e da scelte tecniche per migliorare la guida, anche sportiva. L'abbiamo provata in Spagna, Andalucia, a pochi chilometri dallo Stretto di Gibilterra, dove le colline rocciose sono incorniciate da splendide strade asfaltate dove metterla alla prova.
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La Triumph Speed Twin 900 2025 in breve
Esteticamente, la nuova Speed Twin 900 non sembra così cambiata ma i tecnici della casa inglese hanno lavorato minuziosamente per aggiornare il progetto a 360°. Il serbatoio è più slanciato nella parte superiore e più sagomato nella zona delle gambe. Si fanno notare anche i nuovi fianchetti laterali con inserti in alluminio e all'anteriore il classicissimo faro circolare è ora full LED e dotato di luci diurne DRL. I cerchi in lega, sempre con misure 18" all'anteriore e 17" al posteriore, si presentano con un rinnovato design a 7 razze, ci sono due silenziatori più corti e la sella del passeggero è più snella. A proposito di sella, quella del guidatore (posta a 78 cm da terra) è più imbottita e rialzata di 1,5 cm. Cambia anche la posizione del manubrio, alzato di 1,5 mm e avanzato di 3,5, mentre le pedane si abbassano solo nella parte superiore di 6,5 mm.
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La ciclistica è stata completamente aggiornata, a partire dalla nuova forcella a steli rovesciati da 43 mm marchiata Marzocchi così come i due ammortizzatori dotati ora di serbatoio separato. La pinza del freno davanti è radiale e morde un disco flottante da 320 mm. Tutto nuovo anche il forcellone, ora in alluminio: più corto, più leggero ma più rigido. Chiudono il pacchetto le gomme di primo equipaggiamento Michelin Road Classic con misure 110/90-18" e 150/70-17". Carter ridisegnati a parte, il motore bicilindrico parallelo da 900 cm3 conferma i 65 CV di potenza a 7.500 giri/min e gli 80 Nm di coppia a soli 3.800 giri/min. Il cambio rimane a 5 rapporti. Sul fronte elettronico debutta un nuovo cruscotto completamente digitale, dotato di presa di ricarica USB-C e connettività per lo smartphone. In più, la Speed Twin 900 2025 monta la piattaforma inerziale che ha permesso di sviluppare controllo di trazione e ABS Cornering, quindi con un intervento ottimale anche a moto piegata.
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Come va la Triumph Speed Twin 900 2025
La nuova posizione di guida è apprezzabile e non stanca anche dopo ore trascorse in sella. Questa classica di casa Triumph è bilanciata e comunicativa fin dai primi metri. Il carattere del motore si fa sentire anche a basse andature: la spinta è ricca già dai 2.000 giri/min, regime da cui si risale borbottando ma senza fatica. La risposta dell'acceleratore è azzeccata e permette di avere il massimo controllo in ogni situazione, anche se si non si ha molta esperienza. La taratura delle sospensioni predilige il comfort, soprattutto la forcella, ma anche tra le curve sa far divertire. Rimane comunque una modern classic con cui danzare dolcemente tra una piega e l'altra, ma quando si alza il ritmo la Speed Twin 900 tiene il passo.
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Il motore prende giri con decisione, il cambio è preciso e il freno potente il giusto per rallentare in pochi metri. Nonostante la corposa coppia ai bassi, la potenza viene scaricata a terra con efficacia e il controllo di trazione interviene solo in condizioni critiche. Un po' più invasivo invece l'ABS posteriore che, per chi lo sfrutta spesso, tende a farsi sentire nella prima fase di inserimento.
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Prezzo e colori
La Triumph Speed Twin 900 conferma uno stile impeccabile e un'attenta cura del dettaglio. Per il 2025 arriva una nuova linea di colori: un bilanciato Aluminium Silver con lo sfondo del logo in rosso, un classico Phantom Black valorizzato da finiture dorate e uno sportivo Pure White con strisce azzurro e arancio. Il prezzo di partenza per questa novità parte da 9.795 euro f.c. e Triumph ha già preparato un fornito catalogo accessori per personalizzare la propria moto. Dettaglio non di poco conto considerando che il 90% delle Speed Twin 900 prodotte esce dalla fabbrica con almeno un accessorio addosso.
La più venduta delle classiche di Triumph affila le unghie e si presenta con un nuovo pacchetto tecnico. L'abbiamo provata in anteprima, ecco come va e quanto costa