Intrepid Ariel enthusiasts
In all weathers you’ll find Kev Wheatley on his 1951 350cc NH Ariel but more amazing is what he carries on board. Earlier this year Kev lent me a booklet written by his long-time Toowoomba ride buddy Laurie Wenham. I found Laurie’s colourful way with words clever and comical. Sadly, Laurie recently passed away so in his honour, I have assembled some of his classic lines.
Laurie introduces Kev. “Now all my troubles started when I met this mate of mine: Kev. Don’t get me wrong, he is a great bloke, especially for a Pom, but he occasionally gets these hair-brained ideas .… Like the time in 1996 while in the grip-of-the-grape he suggested we ride our Ariels to Cowra for the annual A.A.R. (Australian Ariel Register) Rally.
On that occasion my guardian angel, sitting on my shoulder said ‘Don’t do it’. Kev went alone but come 1998 Laurie explains, “Under another attack of the vapours, he suggested on riding to Cooma.
Being a weak and gutless individual and with my guardian angel asleep under a bush or down at the local getting me a six pack, I said yes.”
This was the first of many other A.A.R. rides that Laurie and Kev rode to and fro. The booklet covers 1998 to 2009 with due reward, regularly winning the ‘Furthest Distance Travelled’ trophies. The 1998 A.A.R.
Rally at Cooma tallied-up 1,935 miles. Laurie suffered multiple minor issues with his rigid framed KH Ariel twin. In summary he scribed “By then I started to lose my sense of humour and Kev was rolling around on the ground in fits of hysterical laughter. What really got up my nose was: while my tool box lid hinges were fast wearing out, his maintenance programme for the whole trip seemed to be, check oil, kick tyres, fill with gas!”
The 1999 A.A.R. Rally was at Bairnsdale, Victoria. Laurie decided on pre-ride exploratory surgery on the KH. He spent 26 years operating a small country garage which taught him the art of improvisation. No time to wait for parts, he explains, “A piece of his wife’s plastic table cloth often becomes a fuel pump diaphragm; a cork, a nail and a drawing pin acts as a distributor rotor or a section of rubber belting or an old car tyre can be transformed into a temporary universal joint, while the wife or girlfriend’s stockings as a temporary fan belt took less time than getting permission to use them in the first place.” Work done, just 5 miles from town: “Its blood pressure was down to 50 over 8 (50mph and 8lb oil pressure). Kev and I sat by the roadside discussing my options. I could return home, smash the Ariel to bits and take it to the dump or ride it until it smashed itself to bits and then take it to the dump. I decided on the latter.” All was good when the oil got warm and the trip was trouble free, then re-entering Queensland, “We were confronted by half the Qld Police Force. If environmentalists were after me for highway contamination with engine oil this year, they would be bitterly disappointed. The policeman who had my licence must have had bad eyesight for he asked me my name, address and birth date – but it was all on the licence! I was going to ask why he didn’t wear glasses but I let it go.
They must have also been after people with bad breath for he asked me to blow in his digital multimeter thingy. Apparently if driver’s breath reads worse than .05, he must not drive. My halitosis must have cleaned up and the hamburger I had just eaten must not have registered as they let us go our way.” Kev’s trip started with a noise in the engine and led to a complete mid-journey engine rebuild. They discovered that the timing side main bearing cage had come apart. Supported by a good Samaritan (Harley-riding Ulysses club member) Kev explains they weren’t comfortable with their stay, “Alan arrived home after walking their very friendly dog who I’m sure is fed on visiting interstate motorcyclists. His exercise includes an afternoon swim in the local tyre centre’s water tank.” Regarding the rebuild Kev includes
“I’d like to thank Laurie Wenham for his gasket making skills and great ability to cut mechanical corners.” Deciding to ‘rough’ the 2001 Corowa Rally, they loaded up camping gear. Laurie explains “Kev must be related to Margaret Fulton as we have grilled sausages, three vegs and fruit for tea. For the second night in a row Kev cooks up a storm – peppered steak with the works .... Kev again demonstrates his ability as a master chef – chicken stir fry tonight with baked potatoes and a slightly steamed tomato and snow peas”. Blisteringly hot on the way down, it was floodwaters on the return. Laurie fell at one stage, was pinned down by the KH and nearly drowned as they walked through a stretch of flooded roadway. Laurie explains, “We finally arrive home. I’m cold, my knee hurts, the blisters on my backside are so huge I can’t reach the foot pegs, the rain and the sand coming off those @%$#* bitumen cowboys in their Toorak tractors and those double and triple B semis have stripped most of the paint from the front forks and guard. I have a bump on the top of my skull which I think is my spine coming thru, and if Kev even mentions riding to the @$%^&$ A.A.R. rally next year I’ll split him up the middle and use
“I could return home, smash the Ariel to bits and take it to the dump or ride it until it smashed itself to bits and then take it to the dump. I decided on the latter.”
his guts as tie downs! They say the rally next year is in Canberra. I’ve only been to Canberra once, depending what time of the year it is held it could be… Goddamit, here I go again.”
The 2005 Bendigo rally paragraph was written from the perspective of the KH. “Let me introduce myself. I am a 500cc KH twin Ariel, born in 1949. My owner Laurie found me as a pile of scrap.” I got a sharp twinge in my carburettor when I overheard my boss and Kev muttering something about Bendigo in February. I decided I had news for this pair of idiots and it was all bad. I had a word to the two Bosch brothers and convinced one of them to stall this insane trip. Still not discouraged, my boss changed it for an old KLG plug. 2 miles down the track I convince the KLG to throw in the towel but from the deep, dark recess of my tool box my boss found one of the original French Eyquem plugs he fitted 17,000 miles ago. Well, that stuffed me – I can’t speak French. With Kraut and froggy forming a non-aggressive pact I was left with no alternative but to continue on”.
Laurie (now 79) and Kev went to the 2006 Moss Vale rally. After the rough Dungog and Gresford stretch, “I discovered the right-hand plug wasn’t the only thing ‘missing’, my knife and fork had shaken their way through two plastic bags and jumped ship. A screwdriver, a map and bottle of fuel additive left my kit bag and was seeking asylum somewhere with the knife and fork. A rather tasty fruit cake had rolled itself into little balls, and although still edible, did resemble a mixture of rabbit and kangaroo droppings (amazing what a rigid frame can destroy).” Reminiscing the early ‘50s Laurie tells of his foolish decision to sell his Ariel and buy a car, “And like most troubles, a woman was the core of my problem.” While courting he crashed the car replacing it with a 1929 Harley outfit. He explained, “The brute power, the throaty exhaust note and the Harley’s rugged appearance convinced me there was much truth in the rumour that the Harley make originated one dark and stormy night in a moment of passion between a Massey Ferguson tractor and a wheel barrow.” Laurie learnt to three-wheel drift the outfit which went slightly wrong when he added two passengers: “I opened the throttle and threw a hard right. When the dust settled, I realised I hadn’t made the necessary calculations that the square of the weight in the side box multiplied by the velocity would equal base over apex. The side wheel wasn’t going anywhere – the Harley promptly emptied its load inverting itself over the box.”
At the 2009 Northern Rivers rally Laurie (now 82) recounts, “I get a bad feeling that I have built up a little too much speed. I’m out on the wet and grubby left edge of the black stuff, and I don’t think I can make it. No, I’m sure I can’t, these bushes and guide post just have to go. This might hurt a bit.. and then I said a very naughty word. Everything hurt except my eyebrows. I’m losing some vital body fluids from a hole in my right forearm and I can’t lift my arms above waist height. I convince my helpers to assist me onto the machine and lift my hands onto the handlebars. We decided they may be able to patch me up more easily in Lismore and the undertakers are cheaper there anyway. X-rays found nothing important broken. My pride has taken a greater beating than my worthless carcass. 24,334 miles on the Ariel since I restored it, and I had to fall off now. Damn.”
Priceless records of journeys travelled by two guys drawn together by their passion for Ariel motorcycles. They laughed and cried but continued through thick and thin right up to the twilight years of their lives. Laurie will be missed but his words will live on forever. ■