What’s it like riding a classic for the first time?
Maria shares her thoughts on getting used to an old bike this year, in the hope some of her reservations may help others in the same situation.
MARIA
hy – why do you want to ride an old bike?” asked Matt. That’s an easy one, because girls aren’t supposed to ride bikes, let alone classic ones. All dad’s side of the family are into motorbikes so I have always been around them, admiring them. I passed my test 13 years ago and have owned and ridden bikes, but only ever new ones, as I thought classic bikes were out of my ‘league’. Almost as if I wasn’t allowed to ride them because they are reserved for the old boys who rode them originally.
Since getting back into the world of motorcycles (and Matt teaching me the difference between a Velocette LE and a Triumph Bonneville) the classics have become a lot more appealing. I struggle with a lot of the modern bikes because they are too tall and too heavy for me. I like to have my feet firmly planted so I can manage the bike if we have a wobble. Matt said to me a few years ago when I bumped into him that I should have a look at a classic as they are
MATT, BIKE BY BSA
generally a lot lower and more manageable for my size. I took absolutely no notice whatsoever!
Spending more time this last year or so with the older bikes I have started to think that they aren’t just for the likes of my dad and Uncle Neville. There is no reason why I can’t ride them, I have a licence and have had for years. I have a 1970s Benelli 125 Enduro which is a family heirloom, with a right-foot gearchange and kick-start, though it is a two-stroke. I’ve got it working, had a play and really quite liked it. But I’ve not been far as it’s a little unreliable and not registered.
So, I plucked up enough courage to ask Matt if I could have a go on the BSA B31. This was a massive thing for me because the thought of riding a bike that has the gear lever and brake on the opposite side to what I’m used to, and also the gears are upside down, was very daunting. I wasn’t worried about crashing it or falling off, or even dropping it when we came to a stop. I was very, very nervous about actually riding it, having to think about everything being the same; but different.
Matt gave me a run-down of all the levers a couple of days beforehand and the sequence of twisting, twiddling and tickling knobs and levers before I even try and start it. It sort of went in. Come Saturday, I asked Matt over breakfast if I could have a go on the BSA. He said “If you can start it, you can ride it.” Dad was there to come out with me; he used to have Bonnevilles, but he now has a modern Honda CB500 and would follow.
Matt tested my knowledge on what I needed to do to start it and said “Off you go then.” I ran through all the steps and kicked it; nothing. Try again; and ‘BRUMBA’, she started second try. (I think Matt was hoping I wouldn’t be able to…)
Up into first and I had a little go up the yard, getting a feel for the clutch, brakes and the really different riding position. You really sit on top a classic but it’s low; whereas modern bikes make you feel like you’re sitting in them, but they’re much higher. Time to venture further and I stall pulling out of the drive. First lesson; you can’t pull away with few revs like on a modern bike. A quick kick and off we went up the road – we’d already decided which way to go and that I’d be in front. As the gear and rear brake pedals are on the other side and the other way up to what I’m used to, Matt had stuck Gaffa tape on the tank and written ‘brake!’ on the left hand sticker and an arrow pointing up with ‘down’ written underneath and an arrow pointing down with ‘up’ written on it to help if I was in a flap!
After what felt like revving the nuts off her, trying to figure out which way to kick it, I got her into second and away we went. The physical difference between the travel on a modern gear lever and an old one is quite something – it also needs more pressure. But handling was much less worrying. The first corner came up and I could feel myself tense up wondering how on earth to get round it, so I took it steady and I was amazed, it was like the bike was on rails. I thought to myself “ooo now I like this”.
Then the first junction comes up. I look down at the tank to see which way I need to kick it to go down a gear; up, got it. Change down to third, it’s going well. Get towards the junction, pull the clutch in and I decide to stop to give myself a chance to think. It’s all clear, I give it one more try to make sure I’m in
the right gear and go; in fourth! I knew as soon as I pulled away but went blank with which way to kick to change down, so I rode the clutch and gave it some revs until she ‘put-putted’ off. I patted her on the tank and muttered “sorry bike, but well done”.
The next few miles were good, few more gear changes in the right direction, a couple of villages and I was feeling confident (I looked down once to see where the indicator was, then remembered there wasn’t one and stuck my hand out). We then came to some bends and after the first bend a few miles earlier I thought I don’t have to take this one so steady. The bike is absolutely wonderful in the bends. It stayed where I put it and came out where I was expecting it to, it clung to the corner and made me feel very confident in corners, which is another thing new for me.
We came to some traffic lights and dad pulled up next to me to check I was all right, I was beaming from ear to lug; this was bloody brilliant! As we left we came over a few mini roundabouts and on the way out when changing up I found when I was letting the clutch out it felt like it was in neutral so I kicked it again and kept ending up in fourth and chugging a bit. A few miles on I worked out that it was probably because I hadn’t got my foot out fully from the gear lever and was getting a false neutral.
I was still beaming my head off as we rode along, relaxing more every mile. Why hadn’t I had a go on this before, what was I so worried about? The more I relaxed, the less mistakes I made. We got back home after a few backfires which scared the life out of dad who was still riding behind and were quickly greeted by Matt.
His face was full of worry and he was trying to read my face to see how I got on. The first thing I said was “how do I turn it off,” he twiddled some levers and put his hand over the air intake and she came to a stop. “How was it, what did you think, how did you get on?” Matt said. “It was bloody brilliant,” I beamed.
The three of us sat down in the garden and had a cup of tea and talked about what it was like and how each person found it. Matt having ridden it before and standing about waiting for us to get back, dad having ridden behind me watching what was going on and seeing how I was doing, and me, having never ridden anything like that before and how truly wonderful it was. That’s it now, it’s an old British bike for me!