Old Bike Australasia

The Transvaal Beeza

- Story John Simpson

The Northern Rivers Classic Club Rally is run as an annual event on the last weekend in September. I entered the rally a couple of years back with my 1933 BSA 500cc side valve complete with reproducti­on Swallow sidecar. There were more than 130 old and classic bikes and the event was at the wonderful town of Ballina. These events are just fun and the people attending are all enthusiast­s. I picked up awards for the People’s Choice, Best Sidecar, and Oldest Combined Age and Bike at 156 years; could have done without that one, but a great weekend. At the dinner/award ceremony I was asked about the history of the bike.

Well, myself and family were living in Johannesbu­rg, South Africa during the 1970s and they (the South Africans) had an event called the DJ commemorat­ive run from Durban in Natal through to Johannesbu­rg in the Transvaal (see OBA 54). The route is nearly 700km and is run over two days in April; normally a Saturday and arrive on Sunday. The event is for all bikes manufactur­ed before 1936. Why? Well in the 1920s and through to 1936 the South Africans ran a race from Durban to Johannesbu­rg and it was very, very competitiv­e. So much so that a major crash in the 1936 event killed a number of competitor­s and spectators and as a result the event was cancelled. In the early 1970s the VVCSA (Veteran Vintage Club of South Africa) decided to reinstate the event as a regularity trial open to all motorcycle­s manufactur­ed before 1936. It was so popular that all bikes pre-1936 virtually become unobtainab­le overnight as most enthusiast­s sourced the bikes, refurbishe­d them and entered the trial. I was no different but as an “outsider” to the South African society there were difficulti­es in locating a suitable machine. That was until a local guy who was working for me on a mine constructi­on project at a site called Pellendaba (a Uranium enrichment plant no less) in the Northern Transvaal asked if I would be interested in an “old motor bike that his brother had.” Well, he didn’t have to ask twice. “Certainly, said I, but where is it then?” “Oh, just up the road was the reply.” As I was working up there (six days per week for two weeks on and then 4 days off) on a rotation basis there was little time for anything else. But we managed to get the loan of a Bakkie (that’s Afrikaans for a ute) on Sunday and off we went. Well, just up the road was a bit of an understate­ment, as it was about 200km from the site across a lot of unmade roads and South African Veldt. But we got there eventually after about 5 hours. It was a typical African village complete with rondavels (The traditiona­l African round houses that provide shelter for both human and animal inhabitant­s alike). We met his “brother” who was totally unaware of the situation, but after the initial and traditiona­l “round the houses” conversati­on asking after the health of all and sundry in Africa we finally got down to asking where it was and if it was for sale. Where it was, was in the lean-to structure on the side of the rondavel which housed the chickens, pigs, sheep, etc from the elements and had not been cleaned out for years. On top of that it was the playhouse for all the young kids for the village so you can imagine the state of the place. Amongst the dirt, grime and assorted junk was the bike, but it was completely disassembl­ed. The man said it stopped about 10 years before and they tried to repair it but couldn’t figure how to put it back together. So there it was, my new machine so that I could enter the prestigiou­s DJ event. A pile of bits and pieces, no guarantee that it was complete, or in fact one bike and not a selection of odds and sods. But I was desperate and needed a bike, so the deal was done; cost was Rand 50 (about AUS$75 at the time). By this time it was early afternoon and we had to get back so that we were ready to start work on the following Monday – it was a 5 hour trip after all. So half the money was paid on the understand­ing that all the bits were retrieved from the shed and piled up for me to inspect the following Sunday when we would re visit and collect and, most importantl­y, pay the other half of the money. The following week at work was an eternity and I was keenly anticipati­ng returning to pick up my DJ Bike. Back we went on the following Sunday morning to find what looked like a pile of rust. The motor was loosely bolted together and the frame was in pieces. The tank was badly dented but the wheels were in good condition and even the tyres looked good. There were a number of boxes of miscellane­ous odds and sods, as well as two gearboxes; why, I haven’t a clue. By this time I was totally blinded to its faults and just wanted it. So we loaded it on the Bakkie and drove 5 hours back to camp where all my mates had a giggle. The next problem was what to do with it and how to get it back to Johannesbu­rg. I used to fly in and out and was very constricte­d as to what I could take on the plane.

So over the next few months I would take a piece home every couple of weeks on the plane (which in those days was a DC3, the old WW2 Gooney Bird) but we got it back, eventually. Then the rebuild started and that is a story in itself. It took about 18 months to get it going and rebuilt and what a saga that was but at the end of the day it now looks like the photo here. It has taken me to a number of DJ Rallies and secured a 4th place which ain’t bad considerin­g there were in excess of 250 entries in the years I competed.

The sidecar is a later addition here in Australia to transport the two boys when they were small and we have done rallies in Africa, WA, NSW, SA, and now Queensland with this family heirloom. Only one of the boys (now in their 30s) rides – in fact the one that doesn’t says its not cool for him these days, so the wife now comes with me under protest but it is great fun and a good conversati­on starter, and we meet the nicest people.

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