Velocette LE
This strange-looking machine was meant to be the future. It wasn't, but it got a lot of things right. We take a look
The last time I saw an LE Velocette was way back in 1970; now here I was 50 years later being invited by Keith Honor to take his later Mk3 out for a spin. Would one afternoon really be enough, and more to the point, would I like it enough to say nice things? The LE (Little Engine – but you probably already knew that) made its debut at the Earls Court show in 1948, and most of the public and even the press viewed the bike as an oddity – to some it was a complete turn-off. A few commentators have gone as far as saying that the LE helped to bring about the demise of a valued and well-known British marque. They may possibly have a small point, because so much money and effort went into the development of this unusual machine. Indeed, what were Percy and Eugene thinking? I can only conclude that they honestly believed that they had invented the ‘next best thing'. Many designers fantasise and daydream of producing an unconventional ‘winner'. The bicycle, the printing press and the PC have all changed the world we live in. Sadly, many more creations were huge flops – like the Sinclair C5, the hoverboard and spray on hair. And did you know that Harley-Davidson brought out a perfume in 1995? No, I didn't think so... it was called Hot Road. And nobody wanted that either.
What were the roots of the LE?
We travel back in time to the Second World War and find Phil Irving, better known for his work with Vincent, working for the Velocette company. He and others were all wondering what sort of transport would be required by the masses once the war was over. Irving was doing general engineering work until he was injured by an incendiary bomb. Legend has it that while convalescing, he designed an everyday machine for the average worker – whoever they were – and discussed his drawing with the Goodman brothers who, incidentally, had up to that time turned out some great motorcycles for both road and track.
It appears that little of this original design was used, but Velocette's chief designer, Charles Udall, picked up the baton and ran with it. On paper, the early design was full of promise – and cracking little innovations – and the company's desire was to create the most useful and reliable commuter machine for the masses. Perhaps in hindsight, it's too easy to conclude that this overambitious concept was the path to disaster.
The LE was to have a car-style carburettor with butterfly throttle, four jets and three emulsion tubes. A low slung – for stability – flat twin, unit-construction, four-stroke engine, similar to the BMW layout, only smaller. A smooth running, rubber mounted, watercooled engine, where the carb would be preheated by its position behind the radiator. Power from the engine was to be transferred by a car-style dry clutch, via a shaft drive to the rear wheel... no more messing about with oily chains for the ladies. Further refinements included Velocette's patented adjustable rear suspension and rubber-coated footboards to keep one's shoes neat and dry, along with the full fairing up front. The seat height was also to be low to accommodate anyone short in leg. The crankshaft was to be supported on ball, not plain bearings and lubricated by a high-pressure pump. It all sounded so good.
Rob’s riding impressions of the LE
Anyhow, to the test ride. It's now Wednesday afternoon 2019 – way, way before any mention of any virus and lockdowns. Time to make my way over to Keith's garage and take the LE out. The sky is blue; the sun's out. I put my biro down and grab my crash helmet; a full-face job – this is going to look a bit incongruous. Keith kicks the bike over while still in the recesses of his garage; I could see the back end of it, but no more. The engine sprang to life after only the second kick – a good sign. “It hasn't been run for 12 months,” says Keith, looking over his shoulder amidst an eddying cloud of soft blue smoke. He pulls the bike from its centre stand and brings it out into the sunlight. I walk around the bike, taking in its singular contours and features, while Keith continues to give it some revs. I was glad it was the later Mk3 version, because the Mk1 not only had a starter handle, but a hand operated gear lever. Also, on this
model, the ‘ccs' had been increased from 150 to 200, because early claims of not enough power had forced Velocette to up the cubes. Was it enough? Because even now the claimed output was only 8bhp.
After familiarising myself with the controls and clock layout, I sit astride the machine – it's not a step through, but a leg over. I rev the engine and feel the clutch, nice and light, but where's the bite? I then glance down to double check where the foot controls are and decide it's high time to be off. So, engaging the first gear with a downward prod of the right foot – clonk – I let the clutch out. The bite's right at the end. I give it plenty of welly and move off down the road, swinging my feet onto the running boards – so weird after normal pegs, but I'm on the move. Fortunately for my inaugural ride, Keith lives on a quiet-ish estate, so I was never going to be swamped by traffic.
The revs went up and speed increases sedately as I move into second. The gear action is positive. I had read that some bikes had several neutrals, but no problem with that. Steering is light and positive, with the suspension medium to soft, taking out the bumps nicely. I negotiate a couple of mini roundabouts, leaning the bike over and see that the running boards nearly touch the tarmac – must make a mental note about not too much leaning.
The LE trundles along, but I am conscious that I
have no indicators and poor rear view, having only one small round mirror bolted to the right of the handlebars. It would have to do. Right turns could be tricky... and they are; it had been some time since I had let go of the throttle, shoved an arm out and controled the braking with the foot, praying that other road users had seen my signal. Oh the joys, or not, of classic riding. Certainly in the 1950s when these bikes were on the road, there was less traffic about, and I don't remember people being so unforgiving as they are today. In today's modern traffic you have to be quick off the mark and accelerate to normal road speed; the LE doesn't do that unless you give it a fistful of throttle and chang into second speedily and efficiently. I then found difficulty changing down, for when I lift up the gear lever with my right foot, my toes connect with the end of the right cylinder; a bit awkward. I conclude that if the standard lever was swapped for a cranked one and it stuck out another inch and half, that would solve that problem. Anyway, time to give the brakes a test as I am going down a steep but narrow lane doing 30mph – the fastest I had been so far. I decide to use the ultimate test with an emergency stop. After glancing in the mirror I slam on both brakes. They work, but they were at parity with the acceleration rate; never mind, there was no old lady crossing the road.
As for the bike's history, I won't dwell on the teething problems of the initial Mk1, as there were several, and they have been done to death. But even when they were ironed out, the technical innovations and the sheer Lego styling of the LE was just a step too far for your average biker, who had been reared with tubular frames and muscular-looking engines. The LE didn't attract the office commuter either. Fortunately, the Velocette LE was purchased by various police
“honed our motorcycling skills on the ‘Noddy’, being encouraged to ride no hands, standing up on the running boards, and later riding whilst standing on the saddle”
forces, and especially more so after 1958 with the Mk3.
The club's historian, Dennis Frost, wrote back in 1984: “Although some forces had bought them from the start, Kent, Hampshire and especially the Metropolitan Police in London placed big orders for the Mk3. By this time the three-speed hand changer gearbox had gone, replaced by a four-speed foot changer, the hand starting lever had been replaced by a normal kick-start and the electrics had been improved dramatically with Lucas equipment.” (1964)
What those that rode one for work thought of the LE
In the April 2018 issue of the club's excellent magazine, On The Level, retired policeman Tony Wiggins, former PC 284Y, wrote about his experiences on the ‘Noddy Bikes' as they were called. This appellation apparently came from the constable's habit of nodding to each other as they passed, instead of risking an accident by saluting. Other commentators have suggested a connection with Enid Blyton's Noddy and Big Ears comics, which had a cartoon policeman – named Mr Plod – political correctness hadn't yet been invented.
On The Noddy
“I joined the Metropolitan Police in 1958 and did my basic training at Hendon Police Training College. On the main runway of the aerodrome, I and others honed our motorcycling skills on the ‘Noddy', being encouraged to ride no hands, standing up on the running boards, and later riding while standing on the saddle. After passing my test, I returned to my home police station at Highgate, full of pride and enthusiasm. My regular machine was WLL 993 and I spent many happy hours riding in all weathers, on eight hour shifts, over the whole 24 hour period. Kit was limited to a reinforced cork helmet with a Y shaped strap, a rubberised Mac which strapped under the thighs, and rubberised leggings attached to a belt; fine in warm dry weather, not too fine in the wet and cold; damp crotches were commonplace.
“The Noddy was a wonderful machine for silent work, particularly at night when we could ride down
the pavements checking the security of shops. It was not unusual for us to catch couples in what might be termed ‘compromising positions' in doorways, who had been entirely unaware of our quiet and unexpected arrival.
“As well as the required formal patrolling, there were lighter moments when the calls of duty were less. One such was the ‘Phantom Noddy', whereby one placed both feet on one running board and crouched down as low as possible hiding behind the frame. Thus to a casual observer there was a motorcycle approaching with no rider aboard – oh what fun. There were other options to pass the boring early morning hours, one being circuit racing. Using a calibrated official stopwatch normally used for speed detection, riders would in turn race around a given route to seek the best time; this included the sergeant.
“I also had an incident when unlawfully I went to the ‘dogs' at Harringay Stadium as it was then. Leaving it a little late to return to Hornsey Police Station I broke the Bowden throttle cable on starting the bike. I stripped the outer off, wound the wire around a finger and jerkily returned to the nick in time to book off; an early ride-by-wire event? (It was a different world then – ed) At the age of 78 (2018) I'm now riding a Triumph Tiger 800 XCX, and will shortly be off to India for the fourth time, to tour on a Royal Enfield – a blast from the past.
So, call them what you will, berate them for their lack of power and Lego looks, but there is no doubt that the LE Velocette, for all its idiosyncrasies, continues with a loyal and devoted following, with an active club membership that produces an excellent monthly magazine, On The Level and informative website. Colin Roberts, the magazine editor, has been in that chair for 50 years – if he sticks at
“It was not unusual for us to catch couples in what might be termed ‘compromising positions’ in doorways, who had been entirely unaware of our quiet and unexpected arrival.”
it until 2020, which must be a record. Colin began motorcycling on an LE in 1963 as an 18-year old, joining the club in 1966.
“He started with an LE Mk2 and continues on Velocette little twins to this day, having owned 10 LE Mk 3s, Three Mk 2s, two Vogues and a Viceroy, which is the most powerful machine that he has owned and still in his stable today.
“Colin is no fair-weather rider, and even though retired, still rides around 2000 miles each year, and reckons that he has completed more than 160,000 miles on Velocette little twins.
“As for his editorship of the club's mag; in the early days, he used an old Imperial typewriter, thumping away using many bottles of correction fluid. This was later changed for a heavy, bulky word processor, where he had to sit on the floor. But now life is much more comfortable in the age of PCs and he has a chair – whoopee!
This all goes to show that clubs are indeed the backbone of classic motorcycling, while the hardworking volunteers who run them are the backbone of the club; and we salute you all.”
Restoring
So what if you are like Keith Honor, who said: “I just had to have one,” an LE that is. Is the LE worth restoring/owning? Outstandingly – “Yes” says Dennis Frost of the LE Club, who gives some sage advice.
Dennis says: “After checking whether they can live with a foot change model; I recommend that they find as late an example as possible. There's general agreement that a 1965-onward Mk3 LE, with 12 volt Lucas electrics, is the one to get. The usual maxim of a well sorted design, honed by years of production and owner feedback influences my advice.
“I am also asked what model year I prefer, and my answer is unequivocal – 1955. I started out riding hand change LEs, and while a four-speed foot change example was inescapably better at negotiating the West London traffic during my employment years, I really enjoy the charm of hand gear change, and the sharpness of 300 x 19 inch wheels. In 1955, the
LE's engine was a reliable and durable power unit, including a pressurised crankshaft oiling system. Best of all, the 1955 heralded a lot more sparkle to the LE's specifications, including chrome plating to the wheel rims and frame beading. As for the two-tone colour schemes, I think they look great.”
Finally
Personally, I was pleased to fulfil the small ambition of riding an LE Velocette. And I guess that in the final analysis, the LE is one of those Marmite machines, and I have to say, gently, it's not really for me. But if you're looking for something different, useful and quirky at the same time, appreciate the enthusiasm of a group of other like-minded individuals, use a bike for the type of journeys an LE is good for and are a tad ‘barking', then the LE may be just for you.