Brakes. Broken
PARK OLD BIKES CLOSE together and they pass on contagious diseases. This month’s ailments are forkitis and brakeology. My 1949 Matchless has suffered these ailments for ages. Then the Morini Camel got infected. When the Camel’s front brake started to grab I assumed it was because it was wet and expected it to improve as it dried. Then, slowing on slime covered tarmac, I gently applied the brake, which locked, tipping me over the handlebar into an elegant (I thought) dive. Damage looked light. Renthal ’bars are tough, Barkbusters protected the levers and I bounced. Then I realised that the brake’s torque arm mounting on the fork leg had sheared off. Weird. Maybe the torque arm bolt was loose, making the brake feel grabby, and then the mounting had finally broken? Maybe. I cackhandedly secured the brake arm with a Jubilee clip and removed the lever to avoid temptation. I rode back to base carefully, then stuffed the bike into a shed, distracted by preparing the Matchless for September’s Arbuthnot Trial. The Matchless brakes are even worse than I remember. The tiny drums (think shoe polish tins) can’t stop a 350lb bike when working properly, but some out-of-control descents during the trial showed that they’d gone from terrible to terrifying. I’ve owned this bike for five years and never had the forks apart. I found a broken spring, stanchions that seem to have been fitted with a cold chisel and fork oil the consistency of mud. And the pivot has broken off the rear brake plate. Dismantling the Camel’s front end revealed a brake lining has detached from the brake shoe. So that’s why it was grabbing. Fixing all this will require specialist help. If I get everything sent off now I might have them back on the road for spring. It’d be a lot simpler to keep old bikes in quarantine.