THE GOOD OLD DAYS!
Chris ‘Moany’ Moss and a cast of thousands deliberate the best biking era!
Yes, it’s true: I’ve finally become a miserable old git – perhaps thanks to my ‘rose-tinted’ recollections that I get whenever I ride a classic bike…
Perhaps it’s also 2021’s arrival (and seeing the back of an awful 2020) that’s encouraged me to get it off my chest? The fact is, the more I think about it, the more I decide I don’t like this beautiful biking game quite as much as I used to. It’s a bit of a painful admission, but this discontentment has been ongoing for a few years. Let me take you back a while…
It’s New Year’s Eve a couple of years or so ago and I’m out for a ride. I’m enjoying the run and my mood is good and looking forward to a night of mild excess and frivolity ahead. My mood changes when the bike starts playing up, dying completely not long after. Rather than try and get the AA out, I thought I’d just push in; it wasn’t the end of the world. I had a mile or so left to go, my bike wasn’t that heavy, and I reckoned the exercise would do me good.
Besides (and this is the crucial point) with a load of bikes travelling along the very same route, heading to and from the bike-friendly café where I was based, at least I’d get some support. Well, that’s what I thought…
One by one, heaps of the buggers went right past me. Neither help, nor acknowledgement or sympathy ever came. From the scores of riders that saw me struggling, the only offer I got was a questioning hand gesture of enquiry from one lad and he didn’t stop. I felt a bit let down and slightly abandoned by
those I expected to be more on-side. As I wheezed my way up the final incline through the café’s car park, dozens of bikers just looked on. I was fuming. Then, to my disbelief one of them wandered over, asking if I was okay while simultaneously admitting he’d seen me pushing earlier. I really couldn’t bring myself to offer a reply…
The whole scenario saddened me. Ever since I started biking the unwritten rule has been clear: if you see another biker in trouble, you stop and lend a hand. I’ve done it, I’ve had loads of riders do it for me. Over the years a fair few have astounded me with their level of generosity and charity. It’s helped them to stand out as great human beings, and just as importantly, make me feel proud of being a biker and part of an honourable bunch. But this mass negligence was making me reassess things. Just where the hell had all that wonderful camaraderie buggered off to? Hours later, the heavy-duty boozing made the absence matter less. During the following days though, I pondered over the current biking culture, contemplating how things compare to how they were when I worra lad.
The more I reflected, the more I wished things were more like they once were. It occurred to me that very few bikers even wave to each other these days, unlike in Europe where they all still seem gleefully ready to offer acknowledgement. It’s funny how essential I think the gesture is. Call me an old fool, but to me it’s a key sign of being part of a fraternity: whenever my wave’s ignored, I take it personally, usually waving back with a display of fewer fingers.
Many of today’s bikers don’t seem to be the enthusiasts they once were either. They’re certainly not into bikes for the same reasons I am. A discussion with a mate who, like me, has been at it since the 1970s, prompted more opinions on the issue. There are too many riders who just don’t clock up the miles, to my liking. When they do actually get
their arses into gear, they’re only adding 1-2000 miles to their clocks each year, if that. And normally they only venture out when the sun’s shining. When I hear their abhorrence to riding in the rain, I’d swear they must think they’re water soluble. A lack of mechanical ability is another mysterious failing. I’ve talked to lots of dealers who speak of customers who only seem to know how to fill up their bikes with fuel. Coping with a chain adjustment is a bridge too far for a fair number.
Maintenance is a ‘tedious’ job they ‘give to a man’. They don’t just lack ability to wield a spanner, they have no interest in the job. Even washing bikes is a no-no for some. Looking the part, riding the right bike, wearing the right kit, or sporting the correct style of fashionable facial hair seems to matter more to many. Where’s the spirit, hardiness and sense of adventure, so important to fully appreciate biking life disappeared to, and the sense of belonging? All of it seems to have vanished.
I’m not sure I like some of the modern big bike dealerships either. Okay, they look flash and swanky with their bright lights and deep carpets. But there seems to be more emphasis on image, rather than content or credible conversation.
Addressing visitors as sir, and offering them a broad choice of trendy frothy coffees seems like a priority of the smartly uniformed staff. I don’t buy into the seduction process one bit. I’ve been lectured on the virtues of some bikes by kids who clearly have no further ‘knowledge’ than the stuff they’ve obviously digested from a brochure. Like modern bike owners, they lack that all-important understanding of the spirit which defines biking.
Recently I saw a guy getting his lovely-looking 1998 Honda Super Blackbird valued by a young lad and his trade book at one of said outlets. To the salesmen it was just a dated, high mileage bit of kit he’d have to trade on. He certainly didn’t seem to see the bike’s actual relevance and status. I’m sure he would have displayed the same ignorance even if he was looking at a Z1, Jota, Le Mans or CBX. Hopefully, owners of such classics would have the nous to avoid such places for any sort of valuation. I wouldn’t trust them to solve a problem with an older bike either: today’s ‘technicians’, as they prefer to be called, use lap-tops and diagnostic kit more than spanners… And if ‘computer says no’ then they’re stumped! Luckily for me, I’ve got a couple of good old-fashioned, experienced dealers near me where I can get ace treatment from guys who really know their onions and, just like me, appreciate what the biking game is all about. I prefer their scruffy looks, mugs of cheap tea, and piss-taking too!
The situation’s just as alarming with a few bike ‘journalists’. Some have such limited background and experience with bikes they’re simply not qualified to give a credible opinion on a bike: yet a lot of those same ‘experts’ talk like they’re the absolute authority on the subject. None are fooling me, especially the internet jockeys!
A few visits to some classic bike races last year reminded me of the preferred way things used to be. Attending a couple of UK CMRC meets at Castle Combe and Donington, and the fantastic Biker’s Classic at Spa really brought a smile to my face. Unlike Motogp and BSB races, which I also visited in 2019, the whole deal is a lot friendlier, and so much easier to access and feel part of and not such a ‘business’.
Thankfully, there’re plenty of the more genuine enthusiasts still left in the off-road world. I’m a keen green-laner and I very rarely meet any riders that I don’t like out on the trails. It’s no place for poseurs, and just like oldnschool road riders, green-laners are in it for the right reasons. They have a real sense of camaraderie and to a man possess a robust, resilient spirit. Meeting diamond guys like those is really heart-warming and encourages me to keep going after all these years.
Mind you, I suppose when I think about it more deeply, there’s still a hell of a lot I adore about biking. Occasionally I even see the advantages of the modern era. I might be able to recall the aforementioned ‘better times’, but I can also remember some of the stuff that wasn’t so good.
This includes: breakdowns; crap tyres (and chains, brakes, suspension, and engines come to think of it too); rubbish riding kit; and an anti-bike public – just some of the things to look back on with disapproval and feel happy to have progressed from. Okay, so maybe the scene these days is far from dire. Those previously slated types in biking with less experience, knowledge, spirit and adventure are still helping to keep things alive and, as my old riding mate quite rightly says, they’re simply a consequence of what today’s market demands. Maybe it’s me who’s the misfit who’s not moved with the times? Maybe I just need to be less miserable, stop whinging and enjoy what is still a great thing to be part of.
NEXT MONTH So you’re getting older… what bike is best for you?