Motoring Memories at Old Classic Car.

"Uncle Joe", a name used to protect the innocent (and not-so-innocent,) has kindly volunteered his own memories of motorcars and motorcycles. A series of stories will be featured here at oldclassiccar, all of which are true, based on the vehicles that Joe has owned, or worked on, over the years.

If you have similar stories that you'd be willing to share with the world, I'd be happy to feature them here too, using an alias if you'd prefer!!

I've always enjoyed reading people's firsthand recollections of cars, and their foibles, in years gone by. Stories similar to this can be found on the main Motoring Memories Project page, which can be found here.

No-one at oldclassiccar necessarily agrees with, or condones, the events in these stories, and opinions given are not those of the site editor, but of the contributor!

Early days with motorcycles Part 2.

(click here to return to Part 1).

The Next Project, and Holidays

The Ariel was taxed, insured and MoT´d, and with my driving, and me as pillion, we started to use it. I dont know if I had done a good job tuning it, but it did seem very strong for a 250, and quite a bit faster than standard. I never knew how fast it was until after I sold it, when the new owner lost his driving licence, after being officially timed at 96mph!

A trip to Oulton Park had rekindled my brothers interest in bikes, and he decided that it was time to get another one. At the same time, he also had the bright idea that we should holiday together with them. This would be in the Scottish Highlands, staying with our Aunt and Uncle.

Over the next few days, he turned up more or less every day with various parts loaded in the Austin. The Austin had one feature that made this possible, a feature that I would like to see on some of todays cars. The bootlid, hinged at the bottom, formed a large flat surface, much like lowering the tailgate on one of todays pickups. The rear number plate holder, being hinged at the top, stayed both vertical and visible when this was done, keeping everything legal. Maybe a week later, we had almost enough parts to build a complete bike. But what a selection of parts these were. The frame was from a BSA 350 or 500 single. The front forks “Roadholders” from a big Norton, and the engine! Yes, the engine!

At least all of the engine parts were from the same manufacturer, Triumph. The trouble is, they were from different years and models of Triumph. One Crankcase side was from a magneto and dynamo equipped model, the other side being from an alternator model. one camshaft and crankshaft were probably from a Bonneville. The cylinders, the 9-stud head and the other camshaft from yet another model.

To the youngsters of today, this might seem an impossible combination. But riders of the time would know that this was the beginnings of a TriBSA. Some missing parts were bought in, and I started the build. This did not take very long, as we did not really have much time. It had to be ready for my birthday, as this was the first day of our holidays! It was built as a single seat Café Racer, with everything black, apart from the silver tank, and various chrome parts. The crankcases of course were painted in the same gold colour as my Ariel, and when finished, looked quite good. The only big problems with the build was that we couldn´t kickstart it using the exhausts that we had originally planned to use, and had to get others, and getting it started. This proved to be a job that took quite a few days. Looking back, I think that it was the combination of engine parts and my youth caused the problem. But, I did get it started, get the two carburettors jetted something like, and then this bike too was ready for our holiday.

We had done this trip a number of times, but only in cars. Motorcycles are a whole kettle of fish. Straight roads, such as motorways, were something that should be avoided at all costs. Even dual carriageways were doubtful, so we needed a new route. Using an old school atlas, we stuck one pin in where we were, one pin in where we were going, and stretched a piece of string in between the pins, and noted the places nearest to the pins. Easy! Then, using a road map, wrote down the road numbers and so on. A copy was made, and the job was done.

The day before my birthday, we checked over the bikes, and made sure that they were filled up with petrol. For my Ariel, a number of quart cans of Castrol R was also bought to take with us. This we thought, would be enough for the whole holiday. As a girlfriend once said to me, “I could buy the worlds most expensive perfume, but you would still prefer the smell of burnt Castrol R!”

A minute or so after midnight, on my birthday, we set off. The first part of the journey, up to Edinburgh, was relatively uneventful. Darkness and Lucas electrics are not a good combination, so we took it reasonably easy, keeping under or on the speed limits, just stopping every now and again at all night petrol stations for fuel and a little rest. Even so, when we got to Perth, we were a little ahead of schedule, and the garage that we wanted to use only opened an hour or so later, so we just parked our bikes on the forecourt, sat down near them, and took a nap until the garage opened.

The garage owner turned up after a while, and I think was a little worried to see two Rockers apparently camping on his forecourt. However, he turned out to be a motorcycle racing enthusiast, and, when he recognised my Ariel as being painted in Beart-Norton colours, even offered us cups of tea, which we gratefully accepted. Later, he showed us his own motorcycle, a Norton Dominator, believe it or not, with the same colour scheme as my Arrow! We set off again.

It was now daylight. We had blue skies. The roads were empty… and we had a café racer each! Two minds thought as one, and two throttle cables were stretched to their limits. If there had been any police about, they would have re-introduced hanging to deal with us! All went well until just before Grantown. This was were we hit a humpback Bridge. Both bikes went well into the air, and made nice rear wheel landings. However, the TriBSA, being heavier, landed heavier as well, bottoming out the rear suspension. Normally, this would not have been a problem, but… I had removed the original oil tank and tool box, and fitted a central oil tank to the BSA frame. This entailed relocating the battery to what I thought was a good position, which was under the hump of the dual racing seat. As I had also fitted the rear light and number plate to this, I had also been able to remove most of the rear mudguard. Unfortunately, I had neglected to give the battery enough clearance for the rear wheel. Upon landing, the wheel hit the battery with some force, enough to force it through the fibreglass seat hump. All I saw was a battery fly past my ear! We had to stop of course, to inspect the damage, which we did. The battery was totally unusable, having smashed into pieces when it landed. But apart from a rather nice hole in the seat, his bike was still rideable. Loss of a battery might have stopped other bikes, but this one had a Magneto! So it could still be ridden. We set off again. At the same rate of knots as before. The next thing happened just as we entered Grantown. My Ariel sputtered and died. I had run out of fuel! We stopped again, and I explained the situation. This wasn´t a big problem either. We knew this town quite well, and where the nearest garage was, and I got a push there from my brother. We filled up again, and set off on the last few miles to our destination, at which we arrived without further incident.

After a good Highland breakfast, we slept for a couple of hours, and got up for a late lunch. During lunch, our Uncle said something like “I dont know how you dared to come here on those things. Do you know the state they are in?” When we had finished eating, we went outside to look at them. What state? The TriBSA had a hole in the seat, and was covered in streaks of burnt engine oil and flies. The Ariel was covered in a layer of burnt two-stroke and bugs, and had ground scrapes on the footrests, but isn´t that how motorcycles are supposed to look?

Go back to Part 1 of this motorcycling story...

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