Bikes You Have Owned and Loved

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Bikes You Have Owned and Loved

Post by PanBiker »

I have started this new thread so folk can add the bikes they have owned and loved.

Before I add my first bike I will give a little background information.

From about 14 years of age I shared a garage on the Wellhouse Mill site with a few mates who were also interested in bikes, these were in the main the same lads I had grown up with. It was owned by one of the other lads granddad who had no further use for it as he had given up his car. We used it as both a hang out and place where we could collect any bits of motorbikes that we could come across or were going spare. There were three older guys who had a garage on the Skipton Road side of the mill, I think they would be in their mid thirties or early forties although to us they seemed really old. They used their patch to maintain and do up some of the older classic British bikes.

Some of the bits we managed to collect came from one of the lads who had farming contacts. Scouring various barns around the area produced a James frame and half a Villiers or Frannie Barnett engine from one and an old rusty non running Bantam from another. The owners were glad to see the back of this stuff which was eagerly shifted and pushed or carried as required down to Wellhouse. We oyned the older guys as well and they in turn tipped up various bits and were always willing to offer a bit of advice when we ran into problems. Weeks of tinkering and we managed to get the Bantam up and running. The garage site at the mill was an ideal off road practice ground and all the lads in our group used this to learn the basics of motorbike handling (and falling off from time to time). We had a lot of fun anyway and looked forward to when we could legally get on the road.

I left school aged 16 after my GCE's and got a job down in Earby with a local TV Rental firm. I started my apprenticeship which was 5 years City and Guilds done on a day release scheme to Burnley College. It was actually all day Tuesday 9am to 9pm and an additional session 6pm - 9pm on Thursdays. When I started work I used the bus daily to Earby and back 6 days a week (we worked Saturdays) and also over to College in Burnley twice a week. After the first few months it became a real hassle on the bus and the fares were bleeding my £7.00 a week apprentice wage dry. The Bantam wasn't road legal so was not an option to get me out of my situation. it was a joint venture between our garage group anyway so not mine to use exclusively.

I heard of a lad in Barlick who was selling a bike it was a non runner. He was only asking £40.00 for it so I went down to have a look. I liked what I saw but didn't have £40.00 so I tapped my dad for a sub and left it to him to square it with mum. Saturday came round and I became the proud owner of EEO 118 a 1958 Royal Enfield 250 Crusader. Dead in the water but pushable down to the garage, the bike had been running but had packed up and had not been bothered with as the seller had moved on to four wheels, it still had three months on the tax disk. I spent a week tinkering and sorted it with a new coil and a new set of points, a bit of tweaking and we were ready to go. The bike was 12 years old when I got it and had 30k on the clock with three previous owners. A further appeal to dad now that it was up and running and another sub got me 3rd party fire and theft and a pair of L plates.

Royal Enfield - Wiki

Images of Crusaders

It was a different world and I had a bob or two to spare to boot. Independent transport, a single tank each week would sort the runs to work and college. The bike was built like the proverbial brick sh....... compared to the Bantam. A solid frame and a single cylinder 250 four stroke to shove it along. The brakes were nothing to shout about and you had to think ahead somewhat and hope you didn't need to do an emergency stop! Nothing wrong with them, just inefficient drum units on front and back. The bike had a lovely fully chromed tank but a small downer was the non standard rigid kick start. You could stand up on the compression and if it didn't catch and decided to kick back it could, and did hurt, I took the skin off my ankle a few times with that until I could afford a proper pair of calf length motor bike boots.

I wasn't wearing these when I managed to bounce myself and the bike down the newly resurfaced top road from Carleton to Colne one night. I was looking over my shoulder for my mate and let the front wheel drift into the loose chippings at the side of the camber. The rest of the road had hardened off, the 20 signs had gone so I was doing the best part of 60 on the straight from the cattle grid up towards the repeater station when I lost it. I thankfully left the bike as it was rather a solid lump, not before it had wedged my right foot between the rigid kick start and the road as it went down. I remember flying forwards through the air in slow motion, I could hear the wind whistling in my ears until I hit the road on my hands and knees followed by my face. It knocked the wind out of me but I could still hear myself grinding down the road but saw nothing. My visor shattered and some bits ended up embedded in my face, both knees were shaved to the bone, foot stamped on by 200k of bike and the right hand palm of my leather gloves was worn through with a good proportion of the road embedded in my palm. My mate said later that I slid about 30 feet. I rolled over in the road onto my back as I regained consciousness and wondered why I hurt so much. My mate was by my side and helped me to the side of the road, he propped me up sat against the dry stone wall, lit me a fag and shoved it in the side of my mouth while he got my bike out of the road. I was reviewing my situation so to speak as the various pains started to kick in. Helmet did well my head was still intact but my knees were a mess and had started to sting like hell. I picked the stones out of my right hand the best I could and wished that I had been wearing my bike boots rather than the baseball bumpers I had chosen. I had another fag to take the perspex out of my face.

No one came past, it was a summers evening and no one came past. No mobiles and no phone box, the only way to get home was to ride home. My mate Rob put the bike on its centre stand and managed to get it started. I had no chance of starting it myself. The only broken bit on the bike was the front brake lever, no bother I couldn't operate it anyway. I had one good foot which was OK for the brake but my other one was no good for the gears. I could operate the clutch, so with half of me working I reckoned I could make it home. Rob shoved it off the stand for me and held it while I got on. I grabbed the clutch and he shoved it into 2nd. I wound the throttle up the best I could and slipped the clutch out, I got my feet up onto the pegs and set off. I managed to get all the way home in 2nd gear with careful use of the clutch and back brake. My mum went mad when she saw the state of me and said I was to get rid of the bike before it killed me. I was lucky I hadn't broken anything. I cleaned up my knees and bandaged them up for a day or two. Savlon on the palm and the side of my foot which was badly bruised and grazed from the sole to above the ankle. I limped for a week or two, returned temporarily to the bus to get to work while I mended up and mum cooled down.

A couple of weeks later I had replaced the front brake lever and normal service was resumed on the work and college run. I had joined the DDMCC, Denholme and District Motorcycle Club along with the rest of the Barlick lads who had migrated to bikes. I was extending the use of the bike to a bit of social use on runs over to the club at Keighley and odd runs out at the weekend.

The bike did well for a while but then blew the head gasket. I could only get composite gaskets at Charlie Schofields in Colne, I had to travel to Westerby's at Bradford to get the proper Enfield copper ones. As time went on it became more of a problem and blowing the gasket became a much too regular occurrence, so regular that I took to having a can of oil on the carrier. Mum wasn't too happy with my oil slicked jeans either when I put them in the wash. I was rapidly turning into a proper greasy biker. I took myself and the bike down to the older gurus at the other side of the mill and the consensus there was that the head was warped and needed skimming. I had some spare cash but not enough to fund this. I was ready to take my test but now had a broken bike that I couldn't afford to fix fully and even if I did, at best it would not stand a cat in hell's chance on the emergency stop at the test! I was between a rock and a hard place and needed another plan and that was a better, more reliable bike.

to be continued.....
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Re: Bikes You Have Owned and Loved

Post by Stanley »

The only motorbike I ever had (I don't say 'owned' because I have no idea where it came from) was an ex-army BSA Bantam 2 stroke with girder forks. No kick starter, you had to push it downhill jump on and bump start it. This was at Hey Farm and due to the fact we were poor and I was driving the wagons all the time I had no car or any need for one. The bike was handy for small emergency trips, it was never taxed, insured or really road legal.... I only used it on odd occasions and it shows how much interest I had in it that I can't even remember what its ultimate fate was. I suppose I gave it away..... My only other experience was borrowing Mark Graham's Tiger Cub one day and going to Skipton for something small and important. That was a lovely little machine in good nick and I really enjoyed the trip. Good job I was working flat out driving and poor or I might have got hooked!
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Re: Bikes You Have Owned and Loved

Post by plaques »

Probably like most ageing bikers there's hundreds of stories to be told. Someone says something and it brings to mind some similar little story. Panbike's mention of kick starter
PanBiker wrote:a small downer was the non standard rigid kick start.
brings to mind trying to help starting my pals 600cc single cylinder Panther after a late night out. Trying to turn this thing over on a cold winters night nearly put your lights out. Finally, but nearly exhausted, my turn came again and with one mighty heave the brute fired. Unfortunately it was a backfire. The recoil on the kickstart ripped the heal off my boot, shot my leg up into the handlebars, broke the advance on retard lever with my knee, leaving a large blooded hole through the tear in the jeans. All to everybody's amusement. For some reason I couldn't see the funny side.
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Re: Bikes You Have Owned and Loved

Post by Moh »

My hubby has had various bikes, when we were courting he had a Norton Dominator 88 - reg. STD318
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Re: Bikes You Have Owned and Loved

Post by PanBiker »

The guys at the other side of Wellhouse maintained one of those Moh, a nice 500 twin, bet you had some fun on that.
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Re: Bikes You Have Owned and Loved

Post by Stanley »

Image

Moh's pic of Fred on his Norton in 1956.
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Re: Bikes You Have Owned and Loved

Post by PanBiker »

I'm waiting to hear from Moh of her adventures on the back. :grin:
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Re: Bikes You Have Owned and Loved

Post by plaques »

Lovely bike MOH. I'll bet Fred wishes he kept it.

Here's one that my pal Eric bought two years ago. I thought he had paid over the odds for it at £5000. But on reflection he said he thought he had one more bike in him. Sadly he died 4 months later. I think he knew all along he was ill.
P7310034AC.jpg
We shared the restoration work but he had a lot of the paintwork done at a body shop. Added cost £3200. Total price £8200 not including our time. Here it is 90% finished.
IMG_0135AC.jpg
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Re: Bikes You Have Owned and Loved

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My first bike, strictly for novices only, a BSA C12 . 250cc OHV. Cost me £100 in the mid 50s. Nothing to write home about but very reliable, did about 30,000 miles on it. It was one of those bikes that liked to lie down rather than stand up, especially when the engine location plates started to wear lose. It went down the road like a mongrel dog with the back end always wanting to catch up to the front. Its only claim to fame was that on a trip to London I'd parked it outside Windsor Castle and when I got back it had fallen over onto a Rolls Royce. The centre stand had sunk into the tarmac and over she'd gone. The chauffeur was far from pleased. I forget the exact words he used but I followed his instructions to the letter.
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Re: Bikes You Have Owned and Loved

Post by Stanley »

The Bantam was much simpler than that P. It had no stand and had to be leaned against something, anything.
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Re: Bikes You Have Owned and Loved

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Upgrading the BSA to a Velocette was in a different league altogether. Faster metal as they used to say.
Fast enough and a good road holder. A good reliable machine. The only breakdown I had with it was on a trip up to the Alnwick area in Northumberland. We were holidaying with Mrs P's Aunt and Uncle. A few miles from our destination we broke down the fibre gear driving the contacts had stripped completely. We were going nowhere. A van pulled up and asked where we were going. They did in those days. They put the bike in the van and dropped us off at the front door. Good lads up in the north east. As was the custom when you were staying with someone we offered them something to cover the expenses of having us. The embarrassment came when we had to borrow it back to buy a new gear drive.

Something that always stuck in my mind was a trip down to Brighton. We had set off very early on a sunday morning arriving in London at about 8.30 AM. After two road diversions we were completely lost. Drawing up alongside another bike at some traffic lights we asked "can you tell us the way to Brighton?". The reply was "follow me". This bike was a 1000cc Vincent. When the lights changed it was as though the chequered flag had dropped. His pillion passenger urging us to keep up with him. We screamed through London as though we were in the TT. Twenty miles and twenty minutes later he pulled over to the side of the road and said "straight on". We thanked him for his trouble to which he said "no trouble, I enjoyed that!". I could have done with a lie down in a dark room. Probably we had met up with one of the 'cafe' racing gang. Our return home was far more leisurely.
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Re: Bikes You Have Owned and Loved

Post by Moh »

We had some fun on the Norton (my mum was not keen on me going on it!). When our eldest daughter was young we had a BSA Gold Flash with an egg shaped sidecar - I hated going in that thing. The Norton would be worth a lot today - we could not keep it as we were getting married and had bought our first house.
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Re: Bikes You Have Owned and Loved

Post by Stanley »

Funnily enough I saw a bloke on an old Norton at the traffic lights on Rainhall Road this dinner time. It was a twin, had girder forks and a separate pillion saddle so I think it was older than the Dominator. Not bulled up, looked to be in original condition.
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Re: Bikes You Have Owned and Loved

Post by PanBiker »

The older bikes are all worth a bob or two now Moh. A good example of my 250 Enfield would, (and still does) bring around £2.5K to £3K. Same for my next bike which I will put up shortly in the next episode.
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Re: Bikes You Have Owned and Loved

Post by Stanley »

You might like this extract from Volume 3 of me memoirs. You find the strangest things in out of the way places....

"In 1979, when I was researching water mills in the Lake District for the DOE I visited Gilpin Mill at Crook. Tommy Lowdon lived there and apart from doing some farming he was the chain saw trainer for the local council. I remember him well because the first time I went there, apart from having my mind blown away by the half collapsed water mill, he surprised me with what was in his shed! He asked me if I liked motor bikes. I told him I liked any machinery but couldn’t say I was a bike man. He opened the door to a small wooden shed and I looked inside. I can still remember the smell as we opened the door. The hut had been soaked with creosote over the years and the sun was shining strongly so the place had that lovely creosote and hot wood smell. It was dark inside and at first all you could see was the dust motes shining in the sunshine as it came in through the single window. After a second or two, as my eyes started to adjust to the gloom, I saw there was a big, black and polished aluminium bike up against the back wall. I had a closer look at it and apart from the big JAP vee twin engine I couldn’t christen it. Tommy told me that the reason for this was that he and his son had designed and built it themselves because they wanted to go to Bonneville and ride on the salt flats! They’d done it as well, they had a crack at some speed record, they didn’t break it but that wasn’t the point, they had achieved their objective just by going there with their own bike."

The thing that impressed me most was a big star washer and fibre disc shock absorber connecting the handlebars to the frame. It was to avert speed wobble when they got to well over 100mph!
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Re: Bikes You Have Owned and Loved

Post by plaques »

Stanley wrote:It was to avert speed wobble when they got to well over 100mph!
This wasn't me I never had the nerve to do these sort of things. Out riding with my pals we were cut up by a sports car. My pal gave chase on his Triumph Tiger 110. Drawing up alongside at about 80, wound the steering damper down, glared across at the driver and gave him a two handed victory sign. To prove a point he then opened it up to over a ton. Then we have the gall to think today's young uns are barmy.
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Against all odds the bike I enjoyed the most was a 1952 S8 Sunbeam.
Sunbeam S8.jpg
A 500cc inline twin with a shaft drive. Nothing to write home about in the speed or power department but a steady easy to ride touring bike. At around a measly 25 BHP it would run all day at 55 mph, with or without sidecar, and still gave more than 60 miles per gallon. For really long journeys or for snow, on went the sidecar taking about 20 minutes to attach. Unlike Moh, Mrs P loved this sidecar and called it the ‘bomber’. Based on the BMW sports Steib S501 sidecarSteib it really looked the part, open top, wind in your hair, and as they say now-a-days ‘cool’, actually too bloody cold . On holidays it was full of luggage with Mrs P back on the pillion. She was probably one of the best pillion riders anyone could wish for. Totally fearless even when banked over scraping the footrests.
The favourite tours were the Lake District and the South Coast resorts. All in all we covered over a 100,000 mile on this bike before it needed a complete overhaul. The only breakdown, if you can call it that, was one Sunday afternoon in Plymouth. Just as I switched on the ignition to start it up a cloud of smoke rose up from under the tank. The wires had chaffed through and were glowing red hot. Made a grab for them and tore the connections from the battery. This saved the bike but the harness had suffered meltdown mode. Sunday isn’t the best of times to be sourcing new harnesses so the next hour was spent in a garage skip looking for bits of wire. As always there were plenty of offers of help and a lot of sympathy but these old bikes didn’t have the electronic wizardry that we see today so I was happy to carry on alone. Two hours later we were up and away looking for some digs. So what eventually happened to the bike? Well, after years of service and now the proud owner of a car I gave the bike away to a colleague who was hell bent on restoring it. The last I heard was it was still alive but its whereabouts I don’t know.
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Re: Bikes You Have Owned and Loved

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Photos of Indian bikers...LINK
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Re: Bikes You Have Owned and Loved

Post by Stanley »

I was reminded by the images of the first pedal bike I ever had. It was a Royal Enfield and the motto on the logo was 'Built like a gun'. They were as heavy as a gun as well......
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Re: Bikes You Have Owned and Loved

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My 'Built like a Gun' was a Royal Enfield super meteor. A 700cc twin.
Royal enfield.jpg
Bought umpteen years ago after it had been sliding down the road for some considerable distance. Its now still in my garage under numerous bits of sheeting waiting for me to finish the wiring off. At the time it was as big as you could go in the vertical twins before they started vibrating themselves apart. The next version of this machine 'The Constellation' was almost identical but with a different petrol tank shape. "more sexy as they used to say". Said to be one of the fastest 'straight line' machines of its era.
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Re: Bikes You Have Owned and Loved

Post by PanBiker »

Time I did my next episode.

It was the summer of 1972 and I had just received a pay rise at work. I was nearly three years into my apprenticeship. All my past small debts to dad for the Enfield had been paid off. Peace had been made with my mum who after much cajoling had mellowed to the fact that the motorbike was here to stay as my transport of choice. I was fully kitted out now with proper bike boots gloves and leather jacket, Belstaff waxed waterproofs for the inclement weather. Even mum could see that I needed an upgrade, particularly from the safety point of view.

As was the norm for the lads in our group, we all took Motorcycle News as required reading and I had spotted in there that the latest in the Honda CB250 series of bikes the CB250 K4 was due to be released in August. This was a dream machine in my eyes compared to my oily Enfield now on it's last legs. Gold and black in livery, electric start, indicators, 250cc twin DOHC engine delivering 30bhp, twin chromed pipes and exhaust and brakes that worked!

June 1972 had an advert on the back page from Elite Motors on Tooting Broadway in London. They were big London dealers and were taking orders for the new to be released Honda K4. Furthermore they would deliver anywhere in the country at no further cost to the selling price of £329.00 which was £20 less than the full retail on the bike. The deal included a 6 month tax disk on the bike as well. I was drooling but couldn't afford to buy direct but could afford the payments on a three year finance deal if a decent deposit was put down. I showed it to my dad and asked if he would act as guarantor for a deal, (you had to be 21 then for finance) if I could come up with the deposit. Dad said, "leave it with me for a bit" which I knew meant would include an agreement from mum but would never be admitted to by her.

A week later I got a the nod from dad so I rang them up and asked for the paperwork. All was duly filled in and returned with a cheque for the deposit, (I needed a minimum of 10% on the cash price but put £80 down). The resulting payments meant that I could still afford to put petrol in the machine and have a bit spare after paying my board to mum. I got a letter in due course to tell me that the finance agreement had been accepted and that I would get further notification when the bike had been despatched.

I had a bit of savings in my bank account and I sold the Enfield on as a runner for more than I paid for it. The new owner was not phased by the warped head and he said he was in a position to get it sorted. Everyone was happy. I had sounded out my insurers which was a Pearl motor policy at the time. I up converted it to comprehensive and it turned out not to be very much more as the engine capacity was the same. Things were definitely looking up as August approached.

I went pillion for a while with various mates on jaunts over to the "Tomato Dip" on Snaygill which was the biker cafe for all the lads in the district and visiting bike clubs to the area. Also over to our bike club the DDMC at Keighley. I remember one night coming back home from the Dip on the back of my mate Dale's relined and over bored 650 Norton. He had been challenged to a race by some lads in a go faster Ford Escort or Cortina, I can't remember which to be honest. It had chequered stickers on the front wings and flames on the tails that apparently made it go faster! It made a lot of noise I know that, I think they had taken the baffles out of the exhaust.

Dale wasn't one to shy away from a bit of fun so we were racing for £20 (held by a third party) to make it interesting. Dale used to race at Cadwell Park but the car lads had no idea who they had taken on. They just saw what looked like a pretty naked bike half the engine size of their car and were over confident and smarmy with it that they would be the first into the car park at the former railway station in Barlick.

To give them a sporting chance, Dale said they could have a minutes head start and he would still be pleased to take their £20. Off they went like a bat out of hell but making a lot more noise. The route home on the A59 included the bends at Niffany as they are now and even more at the Aire Bridge, a nice 60 degree sharp left hander over the bridge. No straight trunk road as it is now, more sweeping double S bends at Broughton and the left at the road junction up to Thornton, more bends on the approach to Thornton Drag which offered a top speed length. Right at the Manor then sweeping bends out of Thornton and up over Gill Brow and into Barlick. All much of a gift to a bike.

Dale cracked up the Norton to get it warm, revving it gently as they left the car park. One minute later we were waved off. Progressive and steady I would say along Keighley Road and left out of Carolyne Square and over Belmont Bridge, couldn't hear the Ford and they were no where in sight either. Leaving Skipton, it was a nice summers night there was a good moon and the roads were bone dry, perfect for the bike, out of the 30 on the approach to Niffany Dale opened it up. I remember hitting about 90mph on the straight after Niffany and taking the Aire Bridge at about the same speed, I scraped my helmet on the bridge parapet on the race line taken. On the relative straight approaching the sharp left hander on the brow of the hill before the Bull at Broughton we could just see the tail lights of the Ford anchoring on for the bend, they were half a mile ahead or thereabouts. We caught them at Broughton S bends and Dale eased off settling behind knowing that he had them. We shot past them on the straight approaching the junction off the A59 up to Thornton, easing it at around 70mph round the bends approaching the drag. I felt the bike kick at the bottom of the hill and onto the drag as Dale wound it up to full bore. We hit 115mph before easing off into Thornton. Round past the Manor and another spurt up past Nutter Cote and over Gill Brow. We could cruise at 30mph up through town. Wellhouse Road was the route then, we were half way down a fag each when the car lads tipped up. Third party referee tipped up Dales £20 and the one he had been holding for the four wheeled lads. We all had beers on that for a while.

Monday 14th August, I got a letter from Elite Motors to say that they would be despatching my bike in the next couple of days. Also advising me that there would only be a carb full of petrol in the bike when it was delivered. This was for safety during transport. I came home from work on Thursday and as I walked into the house the phone was ringing. I picked it up and it was the station master at Skipton station advising me that they had received a crate addressed to me and would I please come and collect it. I asked them if they had a crowbar, no problem they said, will you have use for the crate I asked, no problem again they could use it for the stove. I kicked the tea table leg with a quick fried egg butty to go, grabbed my helmet and gloves got my bike boots on and headed for the Laycocks bus.

Got to Skipton at about 7.30 and round to the station masters office to take temporary possession of the British Rail crowbar. My crate was on the platform. I levered off the lid and then dropped the sides. The bike was on it's centre stand and wrapped in brown greased paper on the handle bars it had padded packing over the tank and front and rear indicators. The crate was filled with bags of wood shavings to fill the crate. There was a tag tied to the throttle on the right hand side. "Keys in tool bag under seat, minimum petrol for transport regulations, fill at earliest". I continued unwrapping helped by a couple of the station lads. They took the disassembled crate away to their wood and coal store for the stove and the bags of shavings which would make good kindling. I handed back the crowbar, thanked them for their help and pushed it out of the station and popped it on the side stand while I got my lid and gloves on. OYN 374L, It was a thing of beauty, gold tank with black stripes edged in white, gold fork stanchion covers, gold oil tank and filter covers, chrome rear shock springs, black leatherette seat. I found the seat release and retrieved the keys.

I sat astride for a while finding the indicator rocker switch on the left bar and the red engine kill switch on the right along with the electric start button. Keys in, and switch on, check kill switch is off and side stand up, the ignition light came on in the rev counter display, fuel cock to on, no need to tickle the dual linked carbs on this baby. Pressed the starter and it cracked up within a few turns of the engine. I switched on the lights and it lit up like a Christmas Tree, the rev counter was a new thing for me and I noticed it idled at 1000rpm but went up to 12,000 rpm and 9,000 before the red zone, the rev counter and speedo glowed with a nice back light. Arse road about of course compared to my old British bike but didn't stop me trying to use the back brake through habit to put it into first gear. Soon realised my mistake and I knocked it down into first on the left, eased out the clutch and away we went, the red fuel light was on.

Fortunately and part of the plan was that at Owd Bill Motors on Broughton Road and about 400yds from the station I happened to know had an all night pump. It took a decent £1.00 note on a sliding tray to get it to vend fuel. I had planned for this and just happened to have a reasonably crisp green Pound about my person, problem was you usually took a mate to share the quid as there was usually a bit spare after filling the average bike tank. The tank was bone dry and held 2.5 gallons so I had a bit spare with petrol at 0.34p a gallon. I was about to put the nozzle back on the pump but as luck would have it another biker pulled in just as I was topping the tank off. I offered him the freebie of what was left of my quid. There was a bit of running in to do on the bike so I took it steady on my first ride home. I used all five gears which changed smoothly both ways, got used to the novelty of the indicators and not having to do hand signals at the junctions. The lights were fantastic compared to the Lucas unit on the Enfield, the motor hummed and of course there was no oil spillage and the brakes worked, this was as near as you could get to bliss or chalk and cheese. I think I grinned all the way home.

The bike was 100% reliable and the trip to work and back became a pleasure rather than a toil. So much so that I came home for my lunch from Earby most days unless we were extra busy with the service in which case I would get a butty or pie. I reckoned that four runs each day would help with the running in and on one such day about two weeks after I had taken delivery of my bike. I was coming home down Essex Street doing 30mph probably less, decelerating anyway as I was going to turn off down Rainhall. As I hit Essex Street I noticed an oncoming car indicating to turn right up Rook Street, cars were slowing behind and all vehicles were stopped. I could see it was a Volvo Estate as I got about 15 yards away and certainly see that it was indeed a Volvo Estate when he decided to turn off in front of me. He crept round making his turn until he filled all of the road in front of me then stopped dead when he saw his mistake. I was stood on the brakes and had nowhere to go, cars behind blocking going round and a high pavement and a lampost at the left. I gritted my teeth and decided in a split second where to plant it in the side of his tank. I ended up with the bike stopping dead at the rear of the front wheel arch. Bike stopped dead with a sickening crunch and I carried on over the handlebars, somersaulting his bonnet, clouted the back of my helmet on the bonnet on the way down and ended in a crumpled heap in the road at the other side.

As I came to I recognised that it was one of our local doctors, he helped me to my feet and checking I had no broken bones asked me to kindly remove my motorbike from the side of his car, no sorry or anything. I went round the other side to see what the damage was already in mourning for my bike. It was bent, very bent, front forks, broken levers, buckled front wheel, indicators smashed. I had to rive it from the front wheel arch of the bloody Volvo, I tried to do as much damage as I could to his Swedish tank as I extracted what remained of my two week old machine. His car now had an extra dent in the door that I had to make with my foot as leverage for the extraction. As soon as the bike was clear he jumped back in the car, exclaiming that I knew who he was and that I should contact him later for his details, he buggered off and left me to clear the debris in the road.

I dragged the bike out of the road and got it round the corner onto Rook Street. I set it up on its centre stand at the kerb and limped home. I rang my boss Ray and asked him for the afternoon off to get sorted, no problem so I rang my insurers and explained the situation, they told me to get it to a reputable dealer for an estimate of repair and a report. My next call was to Colin Appleyards at Keighley they were on Bradford Street at the time and were Honda dealers, they came out with the van and picked the bike up later that afternoon for appraisal. It went into their workshop for a frame integrity check. As a fairly low speed collision the frame had survived, no problem with the engine block either although the down pipes for the exhaust had to be replaced. It was still economical to repair rather than write off.

It had a complete front end replacement and with the insurance comings an goings, they had it for about four weeks. It came out of their shop like the new bike that it was, I got a lift on with a mate to pick it up. Cost me nothing but my excess and the fact that I was back on the bus for a month to get to work. I sent my nemesis a bill after I got my bike back for my insurance excess and transport costs to work and college at Burnley twice week pointing out that I hadn't dobbed him in for driving without due care and attention and failing to stop and give details after an accident to the police. He took my point and I received a cheque for full recompense in the post, but still no apology.

Over the next month I had the bike fully run in and had been gradually increasing the revs with an occasional burst. It was joy to ride and handled well on the corners although not as good in the wet with it's Japanese tyres which were fairly plasticised. Dunlop TT100's were the tyres of choice for better all round road handling. So I started saving what I could each week for what would become the first upgrade for the bike.

To be continued....
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Re: Bikes You Have Owned and Loved

Post by Stanley »

Good stuff Ian, more please!
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Re: Bikes You Have Owned and Loved

Post by PanBiker »

OK here we go.

A couple of things to mention as we roll through the Autumn of 1972.

I had my first brush with the law as a motorist. One day going back to work after lunch. I was going via Kelbrook and Sough, as I was decelerating from the 40 into the 30 zone which started just after the wood yard, more or less where the Police Station was, as I approached the Station Hotel and the Zebra Crossing. I was startled by a West Yorkshire police chaser roaring past me at about 50mph! He actually overtook me on the Zebra crossing! He had his blues on and the stop sign in the rear window and was going so fast, by the time I pulled up just at the other side of the Zebra zig zags at the bus stop, he was down at the Council Offices 50 yards ahead! I heard him screech to a halt as I took my helmet off, he had to reverse back up the road which he did quite aggressively. As soon as he had stopped in front of me he was out of the car putting his chequered cap on, and as he approached me I heard him say, "you're done lad"! He then said he had followed me down from Sough and was charging me with speeding in a 30mph zone, he had clocked me at 33mph! I was aware of him him pulling out about 50 yards behind me as I came through Sough by the park. He seemed to be pretty agitated when he was speaking to me as if I were public enemy number one! I don't think he held bikers in very high regard. Anyway he went through the castigation process and handed me the ticket then jumped back in his chaser and sped off down the road through Earby, I'm fairly sure he was breaking the limit. I noticed also that he still had the stop sign lit. I got the feeling that he was on one for some reason and another unlucky person further down the road would be getting his wrath in the not too distant future.

A week later I got the summons to court. I pleaded guilty by letter, I couldn't be bothered to take the time off work to argue the point of 10% speedo allowance. I got endorsed and a £12 fine, I had to surrender my red licence to have it stamped in the back. I should have argued the toss, this borderline mistake would come back to bite me as a car driver many years later when it was long gone off my licence and almost forgotten.

The other event was my birthday at the end of November. I was saving for some better tyres as winter approached. My mum and dad made these my birthday present which was appreciated as it left me with a bit of spare cash to spend on something else. I'm sure also that they were contributing to making my life as a biker as safe as possible and this was one way to contribute towards that. I took the bike on to Appleyards and got them to fit it with Dunlop TT100's front and back. You can tell from the name where the development was made for these and why they had a good reputation for road holding. I sold my original tyres on to another lad in Barlick who was only a fair weather rider, they were only three months old and I recouped a few quid towards my next purchase and the rally fund

My spare cash and the tyre sale allowed my second upgrade for the bike. I picked up and fitted a rear carrier, it was a chromed job and along with a few elastics made carrying the waterproofs and rallying kit, tent, sleeping bag etc a lot easier. I had to shove all these on the pillion seat previously which wasn't the best situation as you didn't have many fixing points and lost your pillion seat. The bike was now fully ready for winter and weekend rally excursions. Spare pillion waiting for the right girl.

I was dating a Skipton lass Jill at the time who I had met at the dip. This brought to the fore that I would need to pass my test before I could take her on the back. I resolved to put in for it after Christmas. As it turned out, we dated over the festive season but then she dumped me in favour of a lad who could already offer a pillion, but on a scooter! Heart not in it as a biker lass so no worries, plenty more fish in the sea.

I applied for my test in mid January at Skipton. I got a date for the test in March.

Bit of a digression from the bikes directly but a quick dalliance into a life changing event which was probably fate. It comes back to the biking saga fairly quickly.

Friday 2nd February 1973, I remember the date as it was the day before the anniversary of the day the music died. Barlick biker contingency had taken on the task of celebrating the impending marriage of one of our DDMCC mates from Keighley, (Big Bill) and had decided to take him out around Barlick for the required jollifications, we were spoilt for choice of pubs and clubs in the town at the time. We promised to get him to the church on time in Keighley at 2pm the following day for his date with the bride to be, the lovely Diane.

We did the rounds in Barlick, some more than once, I was pacing myself and coming up to about half an hour before last orders, it was mooted that we all decamped from Barlick down to Gisburn. The idea being that if we were lucky we might get a "lock in" at the New Inn, not an uncommon occurrence at that time in the 70's. We were all tidily dressed in casuals, myself in white 70's button down high collared shirt, black leather sports jacket the proverbial blue jeans and black Cuban heeled boots. We got a few taxis to shift us down the road a piece. We would figure out how to get the main man back on time later depending how the night panned out.

Fifteen minutes later we rocked up expectantly to the New Inn to find the doors already locked with no opportunity for any latecomers. As the next plan was being hatched I had noticed music coming from the Village Hall up the Blacko road so in curiosity wandered up to see what the job was. It was the Friday night village disco according to the notice on the door. So, as it offered a bit more than contributing to the return planning and would be a top coat warmer I wandered inside just as the DJ was winding down and playing the last few records of the evening. Folk were putting their coats on gathering their stuff and leaving in two's and threes but I noticed a bunch of girls eking the last vibes from the Motown music at the far end of the hall. They looked to be on a mission and determined to make the best of their Friday night. Amongst them was one lass that was taller than all of her mates, dark hair, denim bomber jacket, mini skirt and knee length boots, she was gorgeous, I couldn't take my eyes off her so I decided to try my luck.

I happened to have a bottle of light ale in my possession, a last minute portable purchase before leaving Barlick. When the disco lights were turned off and the girls were leaving, I approached the group and asked the tall girl her name, and if she would like a drink, offering my meagre bottle of pale ale. She stopped and told me she was Sally, she introduced me to Helen her best mate, Christine, Helens sister and another mate Jane. She took me up on the offer of sharing the bottle as I walked with them down onto the main road. Sally and I exchanged basic details, she was from Carleton, I was a Barlicker, I told them about our failed mission to Gisburn and invited them back to Barlick. The main bunch of our party had already headed back to Barlick. Sally was up for it but the rest of the girls wanted to go back to Carleton. The resolution was two taxi's, one to Carleton and one to Barlick. Sally and I ended up at my mate Paul's newly acquired house on Cobden Street where Bill was sleeping it off upstairs the best he could. We chatted till the early hours over a couple more beers eventually falling asleep together on the settee. I had told Sally about the wedding commitments for the weekend so after a brew and toast and then another brew I walked her down to the Skipton bus outside the Con Club so she could get back to Carleton. We parted with a kiss.

We got Bill to the church on time and everything went off as it should. Bill and Di got wed and I ended up with other biker mates first in Bingley and then kipping at another mate Kevins house in Shipley. We rocked up at about 1.30 am Kevs mum was still up and she made us all bacon butties before going to bed. I kipped on the sofa. I was in my wedding duds and found out early doors on the Sunday that a fishing trip had been planned to Castle Howard Lake. It was February so I borrowed some wellies and thick socks. All the fishing tackle we needed was already in Kevs van. I was in an was using borrowed everything and happened to catch the only fish of the day a 10lb Pike! We ended up later dipping a line in the river Swale up at Topcliffe but retired to the local pub as it was a lot warmer for a late afternoon in early February. The Bingley and Shipley crew ran me back to Barlick on Sunday night before returning home. All in all a good weekend.

At work on Monday it dawned on me that I hadn't given Sally my phone number and I had none from her so no way of contacting her directly. I hoped to see her again if she was still interested in me. It dawned on me that her mate Jane said she was from East Marton and was the younger sister of Linda Lancaster who was in my class at school. I knew they were farmers so I looked up the number for Crickle Farm in the directory. I rang Jane and gave her my number to pass to Sally as I knew they worked together at Peter Blacks in Skipton. Ball was now in her court and our future in the lap of the gods. Tuesday night after work I got a phone call, it was Sally, would it be OK if she came over to Barlick and could I meet her off the bus.....the rest is history. :smile:

The fate link is that neither of us planned to be where we ended up. The Carleton girls had gone up to a dance advertised at Tosside but found that it had been cancelled, so decamped in favour of the Gisburn dance. I had gone for a denied lock up and ended up at the Gisburn dance. We only needed that one meeting to click, we have been together now for 46 years.

New girlfriend in February and my bike test booked for March, could life get any better? For the rest of February it was easier for me to go over to Carleton courting, where I started to learn that Sally was related to most of the village! we spent our evenings at the Swan. Sally would come over to Barlick for a Saturday night out. I was a secret from her dad Tommy who had always told her that if she brought home a long haired yobbo he would be straight out through the window. My hair was down on my shoulders then so I qualified in one respect. I will tell of my first meeting with Tommy later at the right time for the story.

March came along and the date for my test. I booked the day off work as soon as I new when it was. It was good because it was a Tuesday and half day closing, we had Tuesday afternoon off if we worked Saturday morning. If we worked Tuesday afternoon we could have the Saturday morning off. This came in useful for when there was a rally meet somewhere in the country at weekend as we could set of Friday night to the summer and nearer rallies.

My test was scheduled for 11am, so I rocked up at the test centre in good time. Just round the corner on Sackville Street, maroon door and up the stairs into the waiting room. There was a lad already there waiting to take his car test. Bike test examiner came in and introduced himself and outlined the requirement. Not as it is now with a computerised theory test and then a practical. It was all done on the hoof with the examiner with random questions on the Highway Code at the beginning and middle of the test period which lasted about half to three quarters of an hour.

Out we went into the street and the first test, eyesight, "can you give me the registration of that red Royal Mail van parked over there"? No problem with that so, "what is the sequence of traffic lights", again all OK. Examiner then asked me to get on the bike and when safe to move off take a circular route. Right out of the junction at the end of Sackville Street, down Keighley Road, left at the bottom, over Belmont Bridge then left along Cavendish Street, Craven Street and then left at the top back on to Keighley Road, the examiner would move around observing my riding, control and signalling. I should continue the loop until told to stop and at some point along the route when it was safe the examiner would test my emergency stopping efficiency which had to be controlled with correct braking, no skidding and without stalling the engine if possible. I did a couple of loops and never really noticed the examiner as I was concentrating on doing everything right. No mirrors so was taking particular care to look back over my shoulder from time to time. My emergency stop was done on Craven Street where I did notice the examiner on my approach, I was doing 30mph up the slight incline and he swiftly approached the edge of the pavement about 15 yards in front of me and took one step into the road with his hand held out signalling me to stop. I shut off the throttle, hit the front brake reasonably hard followed by the back to compensate for skid then whipped in the clutch as I knocked it down into first gear. I stopped with about 2 yards to spare with the engine on idle. He approached and asked me the average reaction and stopping distances in feet for 30, 40, 50 and 60mph in the dry and in the wet. Then told me to continue but vary my route this time at the bottom of Keighley Road, instead of turning left I should bear right through Caroline Square proceed to the roundabout and go left up the High Street right round the roundabout at the top, back down the High Street to the roundabout at the bottom filtering back onto Keighley Road, and left back onto Sackville Street and wait for him on my machine where we started. It seemed like an age but was probably only a couple of minutes when he emerged round the corner with his clipboard. He approached, "congratulations Mr Lambert, you have passed your motorcycle proficiency test, well done". He wrote out my pass slip and gave me the instruction leaflet on how to get my licence updated. We shook hands and he left me and made his way back into the test centre. I took the L plates off the bike and rode up to the Dip for a celebratory brew and to ogle at my pass slip and read the notes. I had pie and peas for my dinner and then took the bike for a run over to Bolton Abbey.

I came back to Peter Black's yard off Bellmont Street, at about 4.30pm, caught the eye of one of the sewing girls upstairs in the factory and a few minutes later Sally came to the window with a few of her mates, including Jill who also worked there and was the girl that had gone over to the dark side with the scooter lads. I told Sally we would have to get her a helmet sorted and we could then have some proper weekend adventures. I borrowed a spare helmet for her off one of my mates and we went on to Appleyards on the following Saturday and got her kitted out with her own helmet, white with a flip up visor. Mine was metallic blue and adorned with stickers. I think I still have it in the loft somewhere.

Saturday night was Sally's introduction to The Royal Oak at the junction of Gargrave Road with Grassington Road. That was "our" bikers pub in Skipton at the time, it had a chrome 1940's Wurlitzer Juke Box with out station selectors and speakers in all the rooms downstairs. Daphne the landlady ran a tight ship, had her own record collection on the Juke Box and never had any bother from us. All the scooter lads occupied the Castle pub across the road and parked their machines up best they could on the frontage. The Oak was a former coaching inn with a courtyard behind the pub, handy for parking the bikes up.

Next outing was the following Thursday night and we got her application in to join the bike club. We met at the Beaconsfield Cycling Club up Bowlings Lane in Keighley. Membership came with a card, a DDMCC 65 badge which was the year that the club was originally formed and the templates for the club insignia for the back of bike jackets or what was more common was a denim jacket with the sleeves taken out, worn over your leather jacket. Easier for motifs, insignia and rally badges and you didn't beggar your leathers up with badge pins. Folk decorated them as they desired but they gave a recognisable identity for individual club members with the club insignia on the back. Still have ours but not worn for 40 years or so.

Here are ours after a few of our courting years and rallies around the country.

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I hand embroidered the insignia myself for the back of my Denim

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Rally badges with various swingers for successive yearly visits. All have a memory of one sort or the other.

Sally's Denim

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There are many examples of these that have more metal than denim for bikers that have longer track records than us.
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Re: Bikes You Have Owned and Loved

Post by Stanley »

Image

I'm enjoying this Ian. Here's a pic of the only biker I ever met, it was in Los Angeles. His name was Chainsaw and he wouldn't let me include his face. He was in court for murder the next week....
Not suggesting that you were in this league!
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Re: Bikes You Have Owned and Loved

Post by PanBiker »

I think I can pick up the drift of his politics there Stanley. Different league over in the UK, there were a lot of good lads in our UK "Satans Slaves", still precluded entry to lots of pubs. Amazing what connotations a leather jacket and bike boots conjurers up in a lot of folk.

Many others of course welcomed us and there was rarely any bother, just a bunch of young folk out for a good night. Rallies are a good thing as it allows a good run out, you camp for the weekend, park your bike up, go to the pub, have a good night, sleep it off and then ride home.

The pubs near the rally venues could see a good thing when it arrived on the doorstep. From their point of view what is not to like with an influx of anything between a hundred to a thousand new customers for some of the bigger events. All thirsty young lads and lassies. Nottingham Goose Fair Rally a case in point. Massive event the rally was in a corner of the show field and had a beer tent and the rest of Nottingham town. Segefield up in the NE is a compact little place, has a Racecourse next door of course and every other property in the town is a pub! You would drown trying to get round them all, crazy place or was in the 70's.

Wasn't past the locals in some venues to take advantage of the bike lads presence. We were once roused from our tents at 7am by a police raid and all the lads were arrested on suspicion of attempted murder. they carted about 10 van loads of us off. Apparently, later the previous night a bloke got badly done over and knifed so it was obviously one of the nasty bike lads. Turned out it was a local bloke who took exception to another bloke bothering with his wife. It was late Sunday night when they let the last of us go. A lot of the lads and their girlfriends had to miss work on the Monday as they still had to pack up and get home, some of them a couple of hundred miles down the road. That was one of the rallies up on the NW coast, not far for us but a long way for the London and South Coast lads.
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