In need of Rex-toration
If you’re offered a bike that has been restored but built from all the wrong bits, most people would advise you to avoid it. But this is the only one in the world – and Rick happens to have the right bits...
Iguess we’re all experts at finding excuses to buy more bikes, but honestly I didn’t plan to buy this Rex Acme side-valve from H and H’s December 2020 auction. I already have a Rex Acme, a 1927 350cc TT Sports model that sums up what’s great about vintage bikes to me – low, fast and drop-dead gorgeous. Despite having been restored for museum display, this bike was such a mix of bits of different ages, I wasn’t even sure it was a Rex Acme. It was too clumsy-looking and nothing like any model I knew – and there’s so little reference material on such obscure bikes that cases of mistaken identity do occur.
However, included in the lot was an old 1956 log book which revealed that not only was it a
Rex, it had also originally been a 350cc TT Sport from the first year of manufacture – 1923.
Well, that was a long time ago and being a bit of a Rexmaniac I could see very little was still original. You know, us rivet-counters get a bad name, but I defy anyone looking at the latest model of their own bike not to pick out all sorts of tiny changes: different kill-switch, lower mirrors... stuff nobody else would notice or care about. Old bikes are the same. I knew the Rex forks were wrong – similar to 1926 type, but the tubing was too thick, clearly 1928 or later. You’d think 1920s girder forks are 1920s girder forks, but no. Early on, bikes followed then-popular female form – skinny and diaphanous; put 1928 forks onto a 1923 bike and it looks like a flapper wearing rigger boots.
The brakes, originally belt rim type, were later drums and didn’t fit. Worst of all, the two-year-only, racy overheadvalve top end had been replaced with a gentle side-valve. Throw in bulky, pattern mudguards and a load of post-war bits artlessly disguised under nickel plating, and the only bits from 1923 were the bottom end, frame, gearbox, magneto, brake pedal and tank – and that was painted the wrong colour. Any sensible person would give it the swerve.
Well, sensible or not, by chance I had some of the bits to put it right. Besides, that old log book showed that one Jesse Stephenson from Normanton had owned it from 1925, taxing it continuously from 1956 until 1968 – good for him! The bike changed hands in 1970, and then the National Motorcycle Museum bought it in 1984. Twenty years later it was dragged out of the devastating 2004 fire at the museum, scorched but largely intact. Somehow, I felt I owed it to Jesse Stephenson to rescue it again... mind you, thinking about it, it was probably him that had fitted all those wrong bits!
So I decided to go for it – which meant entering the online
auction, a new experience that left me very apprehensive. Alone with your computer, you can’t even watch what others do – just sit there with a finger over the ‘Bid Now’ button; how do I know it works? I wasn’t keen to put a practice bid on something else, in case I ended up buying that as well...
Despite my fears, it all went very smoothly. Each bid amount came up on screen; I just had to press ‘Go’ or ‘Fold’. Beforehand, I wrote out my potential bids including commission, so I knew what each would cost with everything added to avoid getting carried away.
It was all over in a flash. I bought the bike with my final bid – farewell lockdown savings! – but I consoled myself with the thought that fixing it shouldn’t cost much. It’s a ready-restored bike and I already have most of the bits. Although, of course, it isn’t that simple. Older bikes weren’t restored by the museum’s own team back when the Rex came along. I don’t know who did this one, but it’s typical of the 1960s school – make it look like new and be able to chug round a rally field. OK, a museum’s priority will be about the same, especially with a low-profile bike like this, but it was still disappointing to find worn-out points in the magneto, a lug broken off the barrel and a knackered chain.
So am I downhearted? Of course not. This is a keeper; Rex Acme was a tiny company and probably made very few ‘TT Models’ in 1923. I doubt if there’s another one left in the world. However, I know for a fact that it has a celebrity cousin that exists to this day – one of the actual 1923 TT bikes; it’s intriguingly different but survives in a collection on the Isle of Man. It’d be good to get them together some time... but I need to get this one into shape first.
‘PUT 1928 FORKS ON A 1923 BIKE AND IT LOOKS LIKE A FLAPPER IN RIGGER BOOTS’