PIP HIGHAM
Pip on the GS’S arrival
Chomping through a bucket of old photographs, I came across some odd bundles of negatives. What a pain, I’ve got to look at these. Who knows what lies on those crusty old bits of celluloid? I make a call to friend Tom to ask about the means required to access the mystery strips, and apparently I may need a scanner, which he has. I pick up the Epson device the next afternoon and after puzzling for an hour or so about how the hell it works, I embark on a journey into the depths of that internet where it becomes screamingly obvious that Mr Epson does not wish me to have an easy ride. We’ve all been there, yes? ‘MSN no longer supports yada yada…’ I finally happen across a moody site offering a digital fix, but as my limbs have that many rings, I don’t really do digital. Nevertheless, I embark on a voyage of discovery downloading and tweaking software, agreeing to many things that my mother always told me to avoid at all costs. A day and a bit later, however, and an image appears on the magic lantern of my GS750 in the front room at my past abode. The GS is brand new and it’s oh, so pretty. I’ve recounted in my spoutings many moons ago of my first view of a GS
at Earls Court in 1976 and the subsequent craving, and here it is. Within days of this picture, the GS was rent asunder (taken to bits) and the motor tucked under my arm for a trip down to Russell Savory in Hertfordshire. The rest of it didn’t escape, either. I fitted Akront flyweight rims and machined down hubs and cut off some bits and threw away various other bits, fitted a tiny battery, and lobbed the starter motor. I generally wrecked that poor little bike. At that time there were a couple of people going tremendously well in ‘street’ class sprinting and drag racing, but (how can I put this) they were seen as a sort of sub-species. If it didn’t spit, cough and occasionally disintegrate whilst undergoing the starting ritual (rollers, vans, much exasperation, occasional flames), it probably wasn’t a proper sprint bike, and if it had the temerity to wear number plates, well, the audacity of it. In comparison, my GS started with a gentle prod on the kicker, it idled and it went like the wind. I had watched the likes of Terry Revill and Alex Heal, both on Hondas, with great interest, and it was Alex who first ran in the 10s in 1975. Prior to that, Dave Rawlins on a factorybacked Norton was unstoppable, but the wind of change was picking up. A bloke from South Wales called John Salvidge had plonked a Z1 motor in a Metisse chassis and he was having a whale of a time upsetting blokes in saggy leathers on his beautiful rickman, John shared the
riding with Ron Hughes and we had much fun hurtling up the runway at Elvington and over the bumps at Esholt. What the heck is Esholt. when it’s at home? Well it’s a sort of park that runs next to a sewage plant near Bradford, but any ideas you might have about stinks and poop are unfounded. It’s a tree-lined single track road set in a lovely park, and back then (twice a year) it was invaded by a large group of noisy bikes with one aim in mind, to avoid the five-bar gate that was a little bit too close to the finish line by taking a jink to the left, up a handy escape road. On the GS this was a breeze. I had brakes and handling, and despite the fact that speeds through the traps were around 120 mph, the left kink was easily negotiable, although a few of the somewhat vestigial sprint bikes would occasionally struggle to cope with the slightly quirky run-off area. This necessitated a speedy bit of communication twixt start line and shut-off area, in a style akin to comedian Normal Collier: ‘Ope... the ... ate... now!’ Most made it without drama, but Bernie Hepworth on a Z650 turbo engine projectile flew across the finish line at vicious rate of knots. Coupled with a somewhat lacking complement of braking devices, this sent him through the gate and into the field beyond at about 50 mph. No bones broken, Bernie brushed off the Bikegate encounter with his usual, “What’s the problem?” approach. “Ah, it ”A quite happy to be riding my lovely GS. With ‘only 750’ on the side of the fairing, it served me well. Wonder where it is now? NDK 11R?