This article in the Telegraph triggered all sorts of memories. Classic bikes have always had an appeal for me – I grew up when the old British “thumper” was still a regular sight on our roads. My father had a series of single-cylinder British bikes during the years that I was a child – the earliest that I recall was the Norton 600, followed by the P&M Panther. Prior to that, there was a 350 Royal Enfield and a BSA C12.
When I wanted a bike in the summer of 1975, the year I turned 17, Dad decided that an old British bike rather than one of the modern Japanese imports would be more suitable. Simpler in design, it would give me an education on how it worked so that I could learn to repair it when things went wrong. There was a logic in his approach and my first bike was a BSA C15 SS. It was, unfortunately, a wreck, so those things that went wrong were inevitable. Worn out main bearings when I bought it were the least of my problems. The big end bearing failed dramatically in a plume of smoke and an ominous grinding noise taking with it the piston and cylinder requiring a resleeve. The electrics were dire, failing completely on one occasion causing me to crawl home in virtual darkness. Things shook off it regularly. Passing my test meant that I could get something bigger (and better). I bought an Ariel NH 350 Red Hunter. One of the last of its kind, it was typical of the old pre-unit British motorcycles built to the old quality before the rush to beat the Japanese at their own game brought about the decline in quality that the BSA suffered. The Ariel was dependable and robust. Over a period of about a year, I spent time and money restoring it to its former glory. A state I enjoyed for a couple of weeks before some thieving scumbag stole it.
A brief encounter with an Ariel Arrow in similar condition to that of my erstwhile BSA while I awaited the insurance payout convinced me that a new bike was a better proposition. I bought a Laverda and haven’t looked back.
I still enjoy the sights and sounds of those old classic bikes, but these days I’m happy to ride my modern BMW.
My Dad rode an Ariel Square Four and had all sorts of combinations in his time. He much preferred two wheels over four. In his lifetime (he died in 1997) he owned Triumphs, Nortons … all types. He used to regale me with tales of doing his first Ton and all sorts, he loved his bikes.Visit me @ http://iridescence.blog-city.com/