While others have been barricading themselves in their houses, Rick’s been building three lockdown Blackburnes
Never one to do things by halves, Rick has taken on the task of cooking up three different recipes of Blackburne-powered bikes, applying The Three Rs: Restoration, Reconstruction and Recreation
Maybe the Devil really does make work for idle hands. When Covid lockdown stopped the world in March, I saw a chance to jump off and stretch my legs. But instead I ended up burying myself in guilty pleasures. I’ve been trying to build three vintage bikes at once – projects I’d wanted to get on with for ages, but other stuff kept getting in the way.
Looking at them, I realised they’re the Three Rs of old bike building. First there’s the ‘Restoration’ – a 1922 550cc OEC that just needs a few bits made and putting together . Then there’s the ‘Reconstruction’ – a Cotton that was really just a very rusty frame and forks (and even those needed retubing). I’ve had to find everything else to make a motorcycle. It will be a Cotton again – but not the bike that left the Gloucester factory in 1924.
Finally, there’s ‘The Scarlet Runner’. As well as a variety of garden bean, the name identified Burney and Blackburne’s proposed 1914 Brooklands Racer. It appeared in the 1915 catalogue – but that’s when everyone thought the Kaiser War would be over by Christmas. Technology had left it behind by the time the time the guns stopped firing, and the prototype is almost certainly the only one ever made. So do I have that original prototype in my possession, discovered after painstakingly following leads provided by an ancient factory employee? No.
I’m building a replica, making this R for ‘Recreation’. It makes good use of the remains of a 1920 Blackburne which was dug up and given to me decades ago. I mean that literally – I was just out of my teens and the bike had been discovered buried in a claypit. It hadn’t been buried alive – the wheels, cylinder, mudguards and handlebars
were missing and the crankcase, holed by corrosion, was full of clay, while both the gearbox and magneto had completely returned to the soil. Steel parts had survived, although whatever vehicle unearthed it must’ve also run over it, mangling the frame, forks and what remained of the tank.
It cost what it was worth – nothing. I’ve never known what to do with it – and while I’m more able than I was back then, I’m also more careful. Good for nearly 60mph in its day, I don’t think I’d trust it now– but it should be OK for something slower and lighter that’s not likely to see much use.
I reckon it’s worth the effort. Just look at it – short frame, single-speed belt drive, big engine, big wheels, dropped bars... motorcycling in its purest form. But it won’t be an easy job. The rear frame needs to be made completely from scratch, with no reference other than that one photo.
There are pros and cons to building vintage bikes – there’s not a lot to them, but finding parts is down to pure chance – and if you can’t make parts yourself, it gets very expensive. Add the costs of paint and plating and it’s barely worth doing. But if you’re not into glitter, you’re handy with a lathe and fascinated by the origin of the species, it’s dangerously addictive. Why else would I be in this stupid situation?
I’m delighted with how the ‘Runner’ looks so far, but I’m under no illusions – what you see above is a mock-up; the difficult bit starts here. Other commitments mean I need to work fast and I’m allowing myself until Christmas to get all three bikes sorted. For most of us, 2020 has been cancelled, but I’d like to come out of it with three (probably) unique bikes that were beginning to take root in the shed floor. Wish me luck!
‘THE BIKE HAD BEEN BURIED IN A CLAYPIT... THE GEARBOX AND MAGNETO HAD COMPLETELY RETURNED TO THE SOIL