To buy or not to buy
it around town or through a set of twisties. It’s a 125, so it’s never going to be particularly quick, but it’ll hold its own on A-roads... just, though it’s much happier bombing down back lanes and B-roads, or cutting through traffic. The brakes are capable and the suspension's solid. Not sophisticated, but more than up to the job.
I found the Dirt Track a surprisingly comfortable place to be, too. It is a fairly compact machine, so the fact I’m 5ft 8” was probably a blessing, but even so I don’t recall any uncomfortable fidgeting, or remember ever needing to take a break to relieve any hindering aches
TECH SPEC Mash Dirt Track 125
or pains. Admittedly, I didn’t cover massive miles on the bike, but a couple of hours in the saddle in a single stretch tends to be a good barometer of comfort. The Mash passed with flying colours.
My rides out were generally limited to commuting and the occasional jaunt just for the sake of it, but I did take the chance to take it for a blast off-road. As I suspected, it’s no flat tracker, but to be fair, it’ll happily potter down some dry dirt roads without a problem.
I also took it out once the sun set, to confirm if that tiny LED light illuminated the road enough for me to feel safe making good progress in the inky blackness of night. Somehow, it did. I was surprised; I’ve seen larger lights on keyrings.
All in all, the Mash Dirt Track 125 is a brilliant little bike. I'd have quite happily kept the keys and used it for the daily commute and the odd sunny Sunday bimble, but if you're a new rider in the market for a stylish first step into motorcycling, or an older one who's after a winter hack, the Dirt Track is well worth a look.
To me, the Mash Dirt Track is one of those bikes that provide the rider with all the desirables. It is a practical bike which presents enough power to be more than functional for the commute and an economical engine that proves easy on the wallet riding. The looks of the Dirt Track are certainly eye-catching even for a 125cc, which is important as we all know there is nothing worse than riding an ‘invisible’ bike; even those more shy and retiring of us bikers still like people to like our bikes, don’t we? And with a price sitting around the £2,700 mark and a two-year parts and labour warranty, there is no reason for this machine not to be considered by those seeking a learner legal or an economical commuter, or indeed both. The price is a bit higher than some of the other Chinese-built 125cc bikes, but it is still settled well below any of its Japanese rival’s price tags. Have Mash found that compromise in the middle?
As I write, we’re still largely in the era of ‘lockdown’ – and the place I’m staying is at my father’s, not least because it’s where there’s a fair selection of motorcycles to choose from. And a 1928 AJS K8, registration number VDX 654, is one of them, albeit an understated, enduring presence, which has performed sterling service for its 50 years plus of dad’s ownership.
The 500cc ohv AJS engine was only two years in production when this machine was made, having appeared in the company’s line-up for the 1926 model year. During 1925, AJS had raced and trialled a 500cc version of its successful 350cc model, as part of its testing and development. In 1926, Jimmy Simpson used a 500cc ohv AJS to become the first man to record a 70mph (70.43mph) lap of the Isle of Man TT course.
So what’s the AJS like to ride? Well, to give an idea – for anyone who has never ridden a hand gear change machine before, this is the one I try to allow dad to let them have a go on. Because first impressions are so crucially important, and can either make or break a lifetime of enthusiasm, the AJS is the ideal ‘first timer.’ As it is a truly lovely riding experience.
It’s the torque of these 500s which sets them apart from the 350cc versions. On top speed there’s probably not much between them, but riding a revvy 350 combined with hand-change is, basically, hard work. It makes one appreciate just what a leap ahead foot-change was. Even a ‘good’ torquey hand-change – like this one – loses so much to foot-change. The beauty of the torque, though, means that changing down is less necessary on the 500 anyway. A twist of the throttle and the K8 positively surges up most hills. Country roads are its natural down; our loop from dad’s takes us through numerous small villages and lanes and there’s little one would rather be on than the faithful old AJS.
Beaulieu Autojumble, some 25 years ago, and Jaguar XK rare parts specialist Tom Kent was prowling the stalls on the lookout for something different. He’d had a love affair for British bikes for as long as he could remember and always thought that a Triumph would be the perfect stablemate for his
1955 Jaguar XK140 open twoseater. But which one to choose?
Tom is about as fussy as they come. Not for him the run-of-the-mill mismatch; his search led him to an unsavoury looking pile of Triumph bits that could even be a complete machine. He struck up a conversation with the stall-holder, who confirmed that the bike had been off the road for years, way before the advent of computerised registration.
But he did have the original, buff cardboard log-book, that confirmed it to be a 1958 Thunderbird, with the colour box marked as bronze gold. All Tom had to do was agree a price.
After counting out £1100, ownership of this ambitious project changed hands.
Restoration was a slow progress and though the bronze gold was easy enough, but the guards and panniers had a black centre rib with white pin-stripes that had to be applied meticulously.
I hadn’t arranged to see Tom’s Thunderbird, as my business for the day was his prize-winning Jaguar XK140. But as soon as I saw the machine sharing the garage, my attention was fully focused. I heard the story over a cuppa and before I realised what was happening, Tom had pushed a crash helmet on to my head and suggested that I use up what fuel there was in the tank and to return on reserve.
Unfamiliar with the area and no travelling companion to guide me back to base, I determined to ride out, and return the way I had come. Not a bike for tearing up the Tarmac, or sparking the pegs, I was still surprised at how brisk the Thunderbird was.
If I had time to join in with some local ride-outs, this would be the perfect bike to have in the shed.