Iggypup.
The latest bike I have ever ridden was a Honda VF750, not sure how old it was. I fixed a broken cam chain on it for a neighbour and took it out for a steady test run It felt a bit top heavy and I didn't like the riding position, I'm used to sitting more upright. My (Now) ex brother in law, over the last five years, turned up at my house with three new bikes. Yam R6, Yam Fazer 1000 and an MV (I think a 900), I didn't take any of them out (Just in case) although the R6 felt lighter than my 1970 Triumph TR6 Trophy 650 and felt like it had a very low centre of gravity when I sat on it. I have always fancied a Harley, Fat Boy or Road King but never bought one when I could afford it and due to my financial situation now, I can't see me getting one in the foreseeable future. Thanks for your comments. M.S.
Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Sorry Sorry, Sorry, Sorry and Sorry.
I Typed the last 'Post' and pressed the 'Submit form'. The message dissapeared (As some have done before) and did not show up on the site. I typed and sent again and again, it was nowhere to be seen. I suddenly noticed that the previous post was at the bottom of the page so I clicked next page. And guess what? I'd got nine bloody posts of the same message. I feel a right TW*T. I edited to 'Emoticons'.
I know how to edit but CAN ANYONE TELL ME HOW TO DELETE THE ENTIRE POST?
My first bike was a 70cc Honda four stroke trials bike, I was only 8 at the time, and I loved it because it was noisier than all the little two strokes I raced against!!!!
Another one of my ramblings from the dark days of my past.
Hope you enjoy it, (Especially Monty, Karey and the other folk that found my other posts interesting).
My first ‘Illegal’ road bike was a 1960 350cc A.J.S. model 8; I would be about 14 or 15 years of age. The bike belonged to a friend of the family and I used to service and/or repair it for him. During its ‘Service’ periods I would take it out for a spin (unbeknown to him or my parents) and as the owner no longer used it very much, it spent long periods of ‘Service’ time sitting in my Dad’s garage. The owner is now long gone but as I used to borrow the bike regularly and ride it ‘Legally’ when I was older; he gave it to me when he was in his 60s. The A.J.S. still sits in the back of my garage, rough as a bag of nails but still running.
I would wear a full length ex-navy greatcoat, a scarf wrapped around my nose and mouth, a crash helmet, aviator goggles and a pair of gauntlets. You could not see any part of me so unless I had been unlucky enough to be pulled in, there was no way anyone could tell who, or how old I was. One day a pal of mine called around and I asked him if he fancied going out for a ride on the back of the A.J.S. He was more than eager so I sorted him out a crash helmet, one of my Dad’s old coats, gloves etc and pushed the bike out of the garage. The first part of the journey was to get the bike to the road without my Dad seeing us. This wasn’t that hard as we lived in a pub with the garages at the bottom of a long yard behind it. We pushed the bike through a hole in the broken fence onto some rough ground and fired it up. My mate jumped on the back and off we went riding steadily over grass and bits of brick rubble towards a narrow dirt track that came out between the houses half way up a cul-de-sac about a quarter of a mile away. Once on the dirt track, being the confident sod that I thought I was, I decided to try to impress my mate with my riding skills. The dirt track was about 200yards long so I told him to hold on and opened the old ‘A.J’ up. I didn’t even manage to get it into third gear when I realised that the end of the dirt track was approaching extremely fast and I started to brake hard, locking up the back wheel. I dare not touch the front brake as I was riding on loose shale and knew that the slightest touch would probably have had us eating dirt. As luck had it, there were no cars or people about as we hurtled out from the gap between the houses, straight across the road, bounced the bike up someone’s garden gate step and up the path. I dropped it just short of their front door. My mate was still sitting in the front garden; he had been bucked off when the rear tyre hit the garden step bouncing the back of the bike about three feet in the air. No injuries (Only my pride and ego) and I still can’t understand how no one saw or heard anything. No one came out so we quickly picked the bike up, pushed it back out through the gateway and ran with it all the way back to the garage to check it over. Old bikes must have been very sturdily built because I could find no new damage at all; it fired up straight away and rode perfectly. I had not tried to start it back down the road as I did not want to make any more noise and was more concerned about ‘Escaping’. I think that maybe with the same type of incident a modern bike would have probably sustained more damage, ‘I dunno’.
Anyway. That was one of my first major lessons on the road to my motorcycling career. I learned three things that day:
<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p> </o:p>
You have to know your limitations.
<o:p> </o:p>
If you overstep your limitations to try to prove something to someone, things usually go wrong.
<o:p> </o:p>
<o:p> </o:p>
If you act like a twat, you usually end up proving that you are one.
<o:p> </o:p>
Oh! And 4. If you run fast enough, you don’t get caught.
M.S.
Eeeeeh lad..they dunt mek em like they usedta, eh?
Yet again, another great tale from MS.. med me chuckle !
Cheers
PS..I'm still looking for my first bike
My first bike was in the early 80's and was a Puch Grand Prix Sports Special in black with John Player Special livery in gold.
I had not passed my test yet and used it to hack around over the fields, and could always outrun the cops! Untill they got DT125's.
So passed my test in 82 on a Yamaha YB100, then got a Honda 200 Benley. The rest is history............... Only got a car license in 92 as had a couple of spills on ice and found that I dont bounce anymore. So got a car for the winters ahead. Nice to have a choice, but if the weathers good, its the bike every time....
<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p> My first (Legal) road bike.</o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
<o:p>Part 1.</o:p>
<o:p></o:p>
My first ‘Legal’ road bike was in 1968, it was a Honda C100 50cc pushrod ‘Step-through’ which did 45mph and ran all week on ½ gallon of ‘Juice’. It was a 1964 model and bought for £15 from a bike shop a couple of doors away from the pub where I lived at the time. I had a good deal on the price as the guy that owned the bike shop was one of our ‘Regulars’ and I also used to help him with decokes and servicing after school in the evenings.
I had applied for my provisional licence some three month previous so I held that ready to become valid on the date of my 16th birthday. On a provisional licence I was allowed to ride any solo motorcycle up to 250cc, any engine sized bike if fitted with a sidecar, I had to carry ‘L’ plates and could not carry a pillion passenger unless they held a full bike licence. I could ride a bike at 16yrs of age but had to be 17yrs of age to drive a car.
My Dad had made it quite clear that ‘Under no circumstances’ would I ever be allowed to have a motorbike on the road. They were ‘Death traps’ he would always say. Incidentally, my Dad was a despatch rider for the British Army stationed in <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" /><st1:place w:st="on"><st1:City w:st="on">Palestine</st1:City></st1:place> many years earlier; he also drove a ‘Bren Gun Carrier’ (A tracked, open topped armoured vehicle that carried a small group of soldiers armed with light machine guns). My Mum (As Mums always do), helped me pay for the bike, insurance, road tax and I had to hide it in the old washhouse at the bottom of the long yard behind the pub. I used to get up in the mornings, nip down the yard, push the bike through a gap in the broken fence and ride to school and back (The same scenario in the evenings when I went out on it). I think I was the envy of most of my school mates as I was the only guy to ride a motorbike to school. I had been riding my little Honda for two months and had passed my bike test before my Dad found out I had it and he was not pleased. My Mum managed to talk him round telling him that I would need my own transport for work when I left school a few months later and that I had already passed my test. My Dad, although not happy about the situation, voiced his concerns and told me to drive carefully.
Nearly every day when I went out on my bike, my Mum would inquire if I was wearing clean underpants, I suppose this was in case I had an accident. The funny thing about this, is that (As I was to find out in later years), most of my mates who had bikes at that time, were having the same concerns from their Mothers, (As if that was all they had to worry about).
I had applied for my bike test at the same time I sent in my licence application, which came back with an appointment date of two weeks after my 16th birthday. I had been riding ‘Off road’ since I was 11 years old so the test was no big deal. The examiner gave me directions as to where I was to go, then, whilst hiding behind walls, bushes and between houses, spied on me, jotting down notes. All I had to do was ride ‘Figure of eight’ around and between two blocks of houses, Cross a main road that ran between the houses, negotiate traffic lights at the junction, screech to a standstill (Keeping the bike under control) when the examiner leapt out into the road from behind a fence, and answer a few question about the ‘Highway Code’. I can still give ‘Thinking’, ‘Braking’ and ‘Overall’ average stopping distances at speeds from 20mph to 100mph. Unfortunately, I can only give them in ‘Feet’ as stated in the 1968 Highway Code. I still ‘Think’ in ‘Imperial’ measurements so have to sit a while to work out conversions to ‘Metric’ but the distance between two objects is still the same <o:p> </o:p>be it Imperial or Metric.
The ‘Emergency Stop’ part of the test was a little a little ‘Heath Robinson’ back then (Compared to bike tests today). As I mentioned earlier, the examiner would instruct which route you were to follow, then try to stay out of sight and make notes about your riding. At the start of the test, the examiner would inform you that (Sometime during the test) he would step out into the road (Holding up his writing pad) and you were to stop the bike (Keeping it under control) as if in an emergency situation. As the front brakes on most of the older bikes of the day were pretty much useless, my (And most other people’s) usual ‘Emergency Braking’ style was to lock up the back wheel, broadside the bike and avoid objects but for this ‘Special’ occasion I thought it best to ‘Do it by the book’ keeping the bike upright and in a straight line. I passed my test which enabled me to take a mate or girlfriend on the back also I could ride on the back of a mate who still carried ‘L’ plates, (Oh! how things have changed over the years).
Shortly after passing my test, the local newspaper carried the headlines ‘Driving examiner injured during test’. It had to happen. At one of the local testing stations (Not the one where I took my test), a chap was taking his bike test on a scooter. During the test, the examiner did the usual trick of stepping out into the road with his writing pad in the air. Unfortunately, although the chap on the scooter looked similar, he was not the one taking the test. Now, it’s one thing riding around waiting for someone to jump out in front of you but a totally different ball game having some ‘Pillock’ do it unannounced. According to an eye witness, by the time the examiner had realised his mistake and stepped back, the scooter rider had swerved to go behind and collided with him as he reached the path. The examiner was not seriously injured but taken to hospital anyway. The funny thing about it was that the poor sod that was taking his test saw the aftermath of the accident but didn’t realise that it was his examiner that was involved. He was riding round for ages until he decided to go back to the test station only to be told that his test had been cancelled, part way through, due to unforeseen circumstances and that he would be sent another appointment date.
My 1st bike was a Honda ss50 four speed with flat bars I got my metal work teacher to weld up the pedles (you needed special alloy rods) I fell off it on a new surfaced road only waring a tee shirt jeans and trainers, fractured my collar bone and made a bit of a mess of my back, (was going to blackpool the next day with my folks), the cops insited I tell them who welded it up as it was a motor cycle and no longer a ped told em I was no grass so they said I had to free the peddles within a week or face getting prosicuted (with a busted collar bone and going away for a week!!!!) yeah right I said told them I'd do it as soon as I was back off hols! Passed my Test on a Honda XL250s (wish I still had that bike it was a bit quirky as it had the only 23" front wheel so only yokahama rubber that was made just for it was available (non stick tyers they were known as lol) try telling that to my mate I wore a champher on both out side edges of his docs when he was pillion lol
My first (Legal) road bike.
Pt 2
A few months later I left school and took a job at an engineering factory in <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" /><st1:place w:st="on">Nuneaton</st1:place> (A neighbouring town). One morning I was riding my little Honda to work when, at a bus stop, I saw a young guy that worked with me so I stopped and offered him a lift. He accepted and we carried on our four mile journey to work. As we turned left off a small traffic island onto a two lane ‘One way’ system towards the town centre, a chauffer driven ‘Vanden Plas R’ (A bloody great big Austin Westminster limousine with a 4 Litre Rolls Royce engine), obviously in a hurry to get somewhere, decided to blast past and overtake me. Unfortunately for him, the cars in the next lane had just stopped at a pedestrian crossing to let people cross so he had to slam on his brakes but still skid onto the ‘Zebra’ crossing. Luckily the people waiting at the crossing saw what was happening and held back so fortunately he did not hit anyone. Unfortunately for me, an Austin Westminster has pretty good brakes and plenty of rubber on the road. This guy had just cut in front of me and braked hard, even a little Honda 50 can’t stop in twenty feet. I locked up the back wheel; the front brakes were never that good anyway. With the rear tyre squealing on the tarmac, my pillion passenger shot forward, ‘Nutted’ the back of my head, pushed me off the front of the seat and my feet off the footrests and rear brake pedal. Both my feet hit the road hard and were dragged under the footrests as I was pulled down onto my knees, behind the leg shields, forcing the rear brake back on with the back of my thigh. We hit the car’s back bumper square in the middle doing <?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p> </o:p>about 20 mph but it was still enough to stand the little Honda on its front wheel. It’s not a very pleasant feeling being hoisted up by the crotch with the frame tube but at least it took the weight off my knees. The bike ‘Endo’d’ and my front mudguard hooked on the top of the cars bumper and split open like a banana skin as my passenger flew over my head like a grotesque frog, arms and legs flailing, until he hit the back window of the Austin. The bike dropped back down onto both wheels (And my knees) and I ended up, in a kneeling position, down behind the leg shields, the front footrests rammed hard against the backs of my legs and my head level with the handle bars like I was riding a kiddies bike. My passenger slid back down over the car’s shiny boot and fell on top of me. I looked like ‘Toulouse Lautrec’ with my work colleague sitting on the handlebars (And my head) and a front mudguard like an exploded cigar. It was like a bloody circus act (In slow motion) and with all the ‘Rush hour’ pedestrians watching, I felt a right ‘Prat’. Still, it could have been worse. A bloke from the car next to us held the bike steady while his mate helped to untangle my legs from between the footrests and leg shields. It’s damn hard trying to dismount a ‘Step through', on your own, from a kneeling position, when both of your lower legs are pinned firmly to the ground by the footrests. My passenger was unhurt (Apart from a couple of bruises) and all I had was a couple of gravel rashed knees with matching holes in my jeans, aching goolies for an hour or so and a split (Plastic) front guard.
The other drivers around us had seen exactly what had happened and had a right go at the chauffer who admitted fault and asked if I wanted his insurance details. I told him that if he paid me the cost of replacing the mudguard I would be prepared to leave it at that. He slapped a five pound note in my hand and was off like a shot. I was only earning about sixteen pounds a week at that time so five pounds was nearly two days wages. The replacement guard cost about two pounds which left me three pounds profit. That was my beer and fag money sorted for the week. Not bad for a few minutes ‘Stunt’ work.
M.S.
1976. Brand new Suzuki AP50. RTA 955R. Candy Red. 122 miles on the first day. 536 first week. 13,127 in 12 months! Petrol about 40p per gallon. Ahh! Those were the days!!
Scary.
Buy a copy? You're getting it for nowt.
'Bikeography', That would be a fantastic name for it, can I use it if it did ever get into print?
Sometimes I wonder if people find my memories interesting or just the rantings of a 'Sad has been'.
Once I start writing, the memories start flooding back and I really enjoy it. You never know, if I write enough and did manage to publish it, someone might buy a copy but most of the folk on this site would already have read it. You would then be able to say 'I knew him when he was a 'Nobody' but after reading all my posts you you would probably know me better than most.
![First bike? (3) - Forums [Biker Match]](/images/backgrounds/strips/8mobileLQ.jpg)
![First bike? (3) - Forums [Biker Match]](/images/backgrounds/strips/8desktopLQ.jpg)
