UK Bike Forum / UK Bike Forum / Classics

"Reluctant Sale"

Black Dog — Mon, 01 Oct 2007 08:57:45 GMT

Just wondered why people use this meaningless phrase in their bike and car adverts. After all, if they were that reluctant, surely they wouldn't be selling it at all. I guess it is a fake attempt to introduce some desirability into the deal - come and see it, and see if you can persuade me to let go. Another one is "genuine reason for sale". I suppose most bikes and cars are sold with a false reason for sale, then? My favourite is "company car forces sale". Aha, so your employer is making you take a company car, under the threat of the sack, and the deeds of your house stipulate that you may not keep more than one car on the premises? I mean, come on. And don't forget "desirable" and "rare model".

Here are some genuine ads for you:

BMW R90/7, lovely old bike, used to be reliable, but there's so much wrong with it now that I've decided to cut my losses. I'll be sorry to see it go, but the feeling of sheer relief will compensate for that, so I suppose in a way I am reluctant to sell it. I'll still play hard to get if you make me an offer, though.
Kawasaki GPz900R, fast and furious, lots of history, genuine reason for sale - the electrics have been bodged and I can't get it to run properly. It's a complete shed and I'm getting out of biking altogether.
Ford Sierra 1.6, silver, new tyres, recent service, I've got a new job and they're giving me a BMW, so if you think I am swanning around in this boat anchor after the first of next month, you've got another think coming.
Triumph Herald saloon, desirable classic, it's a money pit and it's broken my heart and wallet, but Classic Car says that people are queueing up to buy them, so I'm adding a nought onto the price I paid ten years ago.
Francis Barnett Butterfly, 1937, very rare model, I've spent the last 6 months on the internet trying to track down a crankshaft and exhaust and I've failed, but there are only three left in the world and I'm sure there is an obsessive "collector" somewhere who will pay way over the odds for a rusty old nail like this.

Let's be honest - you're selling because you want rid.

Yamaha XS500 - quite a nice bike, but I'm bored with it and want something faster.
BSA A10 - complete wreck, think of it not as a purchase but as a project.

That's better.

UKBike.com are looking for blog writers!

tom@ukbike.com — Tue, 23 Sep 2008 11:12:01 GMT

Hi everyone, I'm Tom from the UKBike.com team.

We are looking to launch our new blog soon, which will highlight the latest bike reviews, news and video items, information on UK bike events, and updates from UKBike.com.

Our blog is also a platform for quality writing. We're looking for bike riders who can regularly turn their stories, thoughts, bike reviews, and most of all their passion for motorbikes into words.

UKBike.com is the UK's leading motorbike reviews site - in August alone we had 90,000 individual visitors. Today there are 4,401 bike reviews in our archive, and we'd really like to bring the qualities of these reviews to our new blog.

If you're interested in writing for UKBike.com, then please drop me an e-mail at tom@ukbike.com or leave a private message through this site. Look forward to hearing from you!

Cheers

Tom @ UKBike.com

Real bikes

Number 6 — Thu, 21 Dec 2006 12:29:25 GMT

Ahem! Now hear this. They stopped making real bikes in the 1980s What you have now is just sterile, image-driven gadgetry largely driven (yes, driven) by a bunch of poseurs with more money than sense. Prove me wrong, or I am right (forget all that nonsense about the burden of proof etc - just humour me).

CLASSIC JAP BIKE SPARES

g7iqjuk — Tue, 24 Jun 2008 20:03:27 GMT

ANY ONE HAVE OR NO WERE I CAN GET COPLETE EXHAUST SYSTEM 4 MY 1981 HONDA CM 200T TWINSTAR/ DAVE SILVER/ CMS HAVE NO STOCK NOR FOWLERS BRISTOL HOND.A PARTS NOW OBSOLETE/ NO PATTERN SPARESAVAILABLE HELP OR ADVICE ????? CHEERS ADRIAN BATH SOMERSET

meeting Barry sheene at goodwood 2001

bikemadbaz — Mon, 17 Dec 2007 12:24:39 GMT

It was a strange year in 2001. After walking past the TV and seeing an aeroplane fly into the trade centre in New York I just sat on the couch in disbelief and shock. I don’t think I moved from there for at least four hours. At fist I thought it was some sort of film review, as I was on the news channel. It soon hit home that this was here and now. In the following days every conversation sounded the same. There were planes grounded, flights cancelled all over the place. What madness was this? I think just about everyone you ask can tell you what they were doing at the time of this disaster.

Later that month I was to accompany Shirley and Bill, of Monroe racing in Goxhill to the goodwood revival meeting. Shirley was racing her 500 cooper car. And also doing the parade in honour of the late John Cooper. Now this race car although some fifty plus years old went like the preverbal **** off a shovel. Basically its a little monocoque aluminium body fixed to a ladder chassis and leaf springs/shocks for suspension. The engine consists of a J.A.P. 500cc speedway engine linked to a Norton clutch and driven by chain. Ho yes it runs on ethanol, so for you petro heads it shifts along at a very fair shuffle.

Bill had been putting in some late nights trying to get things ready. We took it up to a local disused airfield at Binbrook to test it out a few days before we set off. Now here is the good bit number one. Bill being of a stout build could not squeeze into the very small ****pit of t5he car so it fell upon me to take turns with Shirley to test it out. So draw it back on compression, clutch in, push like hell and when I yell now off the clutch and bump it into life. Sounds easy, when you know how much work we had both put in the last thing you want to do is snap the clutch or bend a rod (read corrilo) Anyway I had driven it a few time before so I was confident ish. The yell went up, the clutch went up then after a pause of only milliseconds the beast roared into life pushing me back in the seat as if to say “I’ll take it from here”. I don’t think so? Off we went down the strip, each gear change a battle of power between the beast and I. knocking it down a couple of gears I swung it round fighting to get the slid right ( no diff here) then forcing it back towards Bill and Shirley. Stopping almost next to Bill I shouted out my report while the beast sat edging and barking loudly, ready for another go at, who’s the boss. The sound and the thrill were awesome. Straight through pipe, single revving at about 1100 on idle.

A week or so later off we all went heading for Goodwood. As I was part of the crew access all areas was the byword of the weekend. Once we had got the car settled in and scrutinised, it was off to the naffi for some scram. It was a bit strange seeing all these people in period clothes serving food and drink, it even tasted in some cases like it had been cooked in the war! But I hardly noticed. They even got me to dress for the part!

Bill and Shirley had been to Goodwood a few times now, but for me it was the first time. It was like a kid in a candy store. I wondered off looking at all the machinery, my jaw was permanently on the floor. Genuine classic racers form all over the world were arriving and being unloaded, polishers and mechanics were all over them. Riders and drivers stood debating the condition of just about everything.

When I finally got my head back together, I started taking more notice of the people around me. Just strolling along came the Earl of March, (he’s the dude who owns all this lot). Afternoon I offers, not really expecting a reply. Good afternoon come the reply, which team are you with? So we had a little chat about the cooper. He was very informed and really interested in what I had to say. Soon He was drawn away by others wanting to talk to him. So off I went again. I had my camera but it’s had to get the shot you want when you are on your own.

The next day I found out Shirley was racing then flying off to her daughters in Newzelland, aeroplanes allowing.” What about the parade?” I asked bill. He smiled and said “because of all the hard work I had put in, would I like to do it?” Wow dumb question. Hells yes, drive round Goodwood circuit in the parade in the cooper, OH YES. Now one of bills mates called Allen has always been angling for a go in the car and was trying to push himself forward for the job. He lives down south, not worked on the car but wants to do the parade, over my dead body. We had a few practice sessions in the pits at getting the car fired up. No matter how many times we did it, I just could not hit it bang on. Pushing fully bent over takes it out of you, Bill was a spritely 48 years old; he was soon loosing patience with me. I could not think what was going wrong. I pleaded for one more shot at it. He agreed but said if I did not get it this time Allen would have to take my place. GUTTED. We all had a minuet while they got some breath back I went through the routine. Back on compression, on the command lift the clutch. Then I realised every time we were about to take off, Allen would lean over and just check I had it in first. (The gear lever was a straight four back.) Sure enough just before they were about to push me, he leaned over reaching for the gear shift. I immediately hit his hand away and told him to get f*****g pushing. He glared; I glared back with fire in my eyes. (Over my dead body, and I knew he stood no chance if he wanted too dance with me) sure enough the shout came, the clutch went up and it barked into life, scattering people as we tore up the pits. Turning round and heading back to the working area I had a smile as wide as a mile. For some reason Allen looked a bit fed up? Back to the naffi for beer this time, none of that girlie larger either, this had to be mans beer in keeping with tradition. Looking round I saw quite a few faces. There was mark Knopfler from dire straights. This time I had someone to shoot the camera. (All photos in my photos) I went over and like you do with famous people, I interrupted him. He was real cool, we talked about his fireblade, and I also asked him later why he had come up on his VFR? Bit more comfortable and I don’t get the blade out that much now. (Well it is a racing blade)

Later we all got changed and went to the traditional cricket match (in traditional clothes. (See pic). Phil read turned up on his given M.V. Aguster. We didn’t speak, as I had had words with him at Stafford the year earlier. (Seemed quite up himself). Nipped in the tent for a coffee, came out and there sat Rowan Atkinson. Again I shoved the camera in someone’s hand, (point and shoot when I say). Well the picture came out quite well (see pics). He is quite the gent when he is not working. (Just don’t mention his work or he will walk off) This I found out later when he did it to some other people. We talked about what he was doing there, “Driving his latest jaguar and getting Stirling Moss (another one who loves himself and only talks to certain people) (Got a good shot of him nearly running me over, then coming off the scooter he was riding.) To team up for the long race. “I guess it’s a foregone conclusion who will win that “I joked. “Have you seen me drive? Came the reply. “Don’t accept a lift from me. “Well they went on to win anyway.”

Then came the day. Early to rise and down the track. Check the car over and fully prep it. Go get race orders, then off for breakfast. Queuing in the Naffi I looked around to try and find a seat. There’s one I spotted. Went over and sat next to this very fine looking young woman. She was chatting to a man opposite. Looking up I nearly croaked on the spot. There sat opposite me was non other than the legendary Mr Barry Sheene.

I was having breakfast with Barry Sheene.(no camares in the naffi) What an honour. I had met Barry Sheene before, I live near to Caldwell Park in Lincolnshire. As I am of a certain age, you could say. I went along and watched Barry come up through the ranks in the seventies with the likes of ago, reedie, marshal, Kenny Roberts etc. In those days you payed to get in then every where was open. So wandering through the pits, there is Sheenie working on his bike outside his trannie van, fag in one hand spanner in the other and beer close by. They say he had a hole drilled in his full face helmet so he could have a fag while wearing his helmet, I can believe that. Here he was doing it all himself and a few spaces up was ago’s motor home all flash and that. Didn’t see him working on his bikes. We would walk past and wish Barry luck to which he always acknowledged. Even after all those years he still looked good, (must have been all that ausie sun) It was about 18 months before we lost him.

We exchanged mornings, shared the salt and pepper. He even asked if I wanted another “brew”. He could have been just anyone. It must have looked embracing, me blushing like some kid every time he spoke to me. Well I had to get on with breakfast. Unlike Barry I had still got lots to do. We spoke about the racing for today. He was riding a bike for some guy whose name I did not get. Shame it was not the Heron Suzuki. That would have really toped things off. While eating and trying not to stare, I listened. I could not believe it (or maybe I could) Here we are having breakfast and I would swear he was chatting up this woman sat next to me? But he was such a charmer, who could tell? (Not me, that’s a fact). After she left we chatted about Caldwell Park and the early days and some of the duels he had there, especially the British American series which was always a great battle. I didn’t feel it was right to mention Daytona, no one wants reminding of that. But it did show just how strong he was to have come back from such a horrendous crash. He also said how much he looked forward to doing Goodwood and meeting old friends. When He got up to go he wished me good luck, as I did him (needless to say he won his race) then he reached over and we shook hands. I didn’t see him go. I just stood there and stared at my hand as if I had just been touched by a god. (In all honesty I had.) The firm grip of an honest man who never forgot where he had come from. The good cheer smile he had for me. That day I was truly honoured to have been in the presents of Mr Barry Sheene. Everything now was going to be an anticlimax.

Arriving back at the car, we got things in full swing as it was soon going to be Shirley’s race. The car took up its position on the grid with about fourteen others, (she was running mid pack) Shirley was never going to win as some of the others were not running standard engines, (I guess there is cheating even in classic racing.) Also we could not afford to pay for an eight thousand pound engine rebuild, like some. The good thing was the car finished and Shirley came top of the ladies, which was a good result in its self.

We checked the car over, refuelled and got ready for the parade. I could not believe that I was going to lead the parade as the car was the oldest one there. Sat on the grid was something else. There were a few thousand people watching as we were about to set off. All I needed to do was get away clean without stalling. The safety car flashed us to get ready, off it went. I was after it like a dog after a rabbit. I was leading the parade and no one was going to get in front of me. Not even sterling Moss who was further down the grid. The safety car ran at seventy miles an hour most of the way round the three laps. With me right up its tail pipe. The passenger kept waving at me through the back window, I just grinned back at him best I could. (Didn’t have a helmet) later watching the video of the parade, I was seen for about one second as the cars set off. Then the camera focused on the rest of the bunch. How was I to know they were not running the same speed as me? Anyway we mostly all got round without breaking down or crashing. Back at the pits I got a bit of a chat about racing rather than parading, (whatever that meant) all I know was I had a great time and finished in front of Sterling Moss.

Soon we had packed the car away, cleared the tools etc and were heading back to the digs. That night I told of my meeting with the legendary Barry Sheene. Also all the other things I had seen and done. All in all it was a great experience. One that sadly I can never relive, as we all know, cancer was to take away Barry only about eighteen month later. But nothing can take away the memories.

* pic 1. the cooper without its back body pannel.

pic 2. me and the cooper.

pic 3. Bill and the cooper.

pic 4. me and Mark Knopfler.

pic 5. Me at the crickit match. left of picture. Shirley the driver is stood in the middle.

goodwood house in the background. (i'm not that short, the other bloke is very tall.)

pic 6. me and Rowan Atkinson.

pic 7. Strling Moss nearly falling of a scoooter.

pic 8. Barry Sheene on a tiger cub.

Sunday Morning Bimble

Black Dog — Mon, 17 Sep 2007 13:21:58 GMT

Rain forecast for Sunday afternoon, and I had already mowed the grass, so I took the Bandit off to get some go-juice in for the working week ahead. Between the petrol station and my turning, there is a stretch of the A40, about a mile and a half, almost straight, good surface. If there's not much traffic about, it's a good place for a tazz. So, there I was, full tank and a warm engine, pulling out of the petrol station. Aha, thinks I, I wonder what it will actually do in first gear? The bike has an amazing amount of stomp, and I rarely use all the revs, being happy to bang along using the mid-range. Coming home along a similar stretch the other evening, I found out that it will top the ton in second, so what would it do in first? Purely as an experiment, you understand. Well, the answer is over 70 @ 11k rpm. The problem is, the howl from the exhaust at that speed is totally addictive, so it was up a gear and off towards the horizon.

So I was doing well into three figures when I spotted a bike in a lay-by. I clocked the name on the tank, and started to slow down, but it was a good few hundred metres further on before I could turn round. A Black Norton Commando, rider standing alongside taking off his helmet and gloves. I turned in the road, pulled up and took off the lid. "Smoke break", he said, "but thanks for stopping." So that was the next half hour gone. We had a good old chat and I admired the bike rather longingly. It looked just like an Interstate with the big tank, but it turns out he had imported it from Saudi, where it had seen service with the Police - it was an Interplod. 1973, still with the right-hand gearchange and no electric foot. He'd restored it over four years, removing several kilos of sand in the process, and it looked lovely. He had been running it for a year since restoration, so it had that well-used look about it (blued pipes and creased seat, and the look of a lot of hand-polishing rather than that soulless cleanliness that new paint and chrome have). The tank was new, as were the pea-shooter silencers. He had ridden it over from Norfolk (a good 200+ miles from me) so that his wife could visit her grandparents, and he had gone out for a circuit of Pembrokeshire on his "day off". I told him a couple of good ways back, warned him about some dangerous bends ahead, and let him get on with rolling another one, just like the other one.

One day, one day ...

I just have to win the lottery and retire first. And get a decent shed.

Noise

Number 6 — Wed, 17 Jan 2007 14:39:50 GMT

Right you lot. This one is about noise. Don't bother correct me if I'm wrong; you just can't beat the noise of a Japanese four with a set of decent sports cans, sceaming its little valves out on the redline. Deep grunting singles and twins are alright, if you must, but they hardly get the blood going, do they? That's a hypothetical question by the way. You know I'm right.