Ray Knight
Shane Byrne’s Ducati one week, Bruce Anstey’s Motogp inspired Honda RC213V-S the next – Peter Crawford discovered what it was like to ride the 1960s and 70s equivalents while chatting to Ray Knight, one of motorcycling’s true firsts.
From the page to the track to the page and back to the track again. Landing on The Island after getting hooked on going around The Mountain and living many lives on two wheels. Ray Knight’s story is varied, long and well worth a read.
“It all started when I met Barry Ryason, the first editor I came across. He was racing with his son down at Thruxton and we met in the paddock, got talking about this and that and I mentioned I wrote bits for the Royal Enfield Club magazine – I was racing an Enfield Super Meteor at the time. He said: ‘Send me something,’ and I never looked back. It was MCI (Motorcyclist Illustrated) initially, then Motorcycle Sport. I’d take bikes out and try to break them, as that was my forte, but as I rarely crashed anything, after a while people started to come to me with stuff and I’d say: ‘Yeah, I’d really like to test that.’ So, I was ‘it’, until Alan Cathcart came along, as I sort of faded out after 1994, when they decided to rebuild me.”
The rebuild was the result of an accident on the Isle of Man, once called Ray’s second home but by this time his first – Ray and wife Yvonne moving in 1993 to take up permanent residence. With 17 replicas, 84 races on the Island and nearly 40 finishes under his belt – including the full podium collection of a first, second and a third – things had gone well up until the accident.
“I was leading the National 600s Supersport class, through the Killane section, on the road course, and in front of multiple TT winner Dave Leach at the time – I still cannot remember the lap preceding the ‘big crash’. But it went something like this, as I later recorded from my hospital bed: The world had stopped revolving, time seemed to freeze; then as I heard the patter of running feet, normality started to return and I knew I hadn’t got away with this one.
“It was the only bad one I had really. I did a fib’ and tib’, ankles and pelvis – and my knees weren’t too good. But I’m walking around okay now.”
Indeed he is and at 86 still rides his Bonneville on the road, but that crash ended 50 years of racing. Serious racing, which ticked off an enviable list of titles and championships, as well as a series of impressive firsts. How about the first ever UK victories for a Thruxton Bonneville, a Triumph Trident, or a BMW solo? And a TT victory of course, which I’ll come to.
But you don’t get handed top-racing machinery without some serious pedigree and as Ray explains it all started, as with contemporaries Dave Croxford and Reg Everett, among the road riding, café race, scene. On a Vincent initially and a Royal Enfield soon after.
New kid on the block
“In those days, I was what was usually referred to by serious, boring, clubmen, as a ‘cowboy’. Johnson’s Cafe on the A20 was my haunt at the time, the equivalent of the Ace Cafe on the north Circular. Not half as many people as north London, but the same sort of customer. Anyway, it soon became apparent the Vincent twins didn’t like being subjected to the same sort of revolutions as the vertical twins of the day. And about this time, 1958, our hard-riding group of six local lads attended the Motorcycle 500-Mile Race at Thruxton. Because it was an event for production
machines, those that we were familiar with, unlike ‘proper’ racing machines in which we had little interest. We witnessed the famous Bob Mcintyre sweeping past works Triumphs on, of all things, a Royal Enfield Super Meteor. This was quite sufficient to make the purchase of a Meteor seem desirable, even a necessity.
“But having by now joined the Vincent Owners’ Club, the change of machine was deemed by the somewhat egotistical crowd, to be beyond the pale. Now the Vincent Owners’ Club rated the Motor Cycling Club’s (MCC) annual High-speed Trials and Races at Silverstone as the highlight of their sporting calendar and if, as was hinted by several, I really thought an Enfield was quicker than a Vincent, well that was the place where I’d put up or shutup.
“His first award, an ESPN teaspoon, soon followed – it’s still on his shelf 50 years later – while his perseverance with Enfields was to pay off in other ways too. Syd Lawton had prepared Mcintyre’s bike and through his acquaintance Ray uprated to the Constellation version. At 692cc Enfield’s biggest twins fell foul of the ACU’S 650cc rules at the 1960 ACU Oulton Clubman race, but it was decided it was a cause worth fighting. His Enfield was duly declared eligible and a 4th behind established riders – on dealer-entered machines – resulted in a full £10 in prize money. A Silverstone class lap record soon followed, along with other good finishes, culminating in one at Bemsee’s Trophy Day meeting, again at Silverstone. “Second. But it had been a grand season. And people were beginning to take note of the old Enfield now. In fact, so were the Royal Enfield Owners’ Cub. More to the point, so were the ‘Works’. As things developed, so I chronicled the various ‘daring-dos’ in the pages of the Enfield Cub magazine, the consequences I little anticipated. The men at Redditch also read the mag.”
It would be hard to believe today, but as large a company as Enfield were, they took an interest in the budding club racer, to the extent that the 1961 Thruxton 500-miler not only featured Mike Hailwood and Phil Read but a ‘Club’ Enfield too. A bike which got fettled by the same Syd Lawton who was preparing the factory machine once again for Bob Mcintyre. One half of the two-man ride on the Club version went to veteran Harry Voice, but as Ray explains:
“The offer of the other half of the racing seat came my way, because I could scrape up enough competition points from club races to qualify for an International One-day Licence. Something you could do in those days.” They finished a respectable 13th with Ray experiencing for the first time what it was like to share track time with truly great riders. As well as ostensibly identical ‘Production’ machines. Where, to misquote George Orwell ‘Some were more equal than others’.
“While taking the sweeping Horizon Bend round the back of the track, I had John Hartle come by on the works 250 Honda, chased by Cecil Stanford on an Ariel Arrow. Now getting Phil Read pass you on a 650 Norton, especially prepared for the job, that was acceptable, but a 250! This was a real wake-up call. I had a bike supposedly supplied through the Enfield works, but when I came up against John Hartle. Forget it. Brrrrrr… he just motored by, though I eventually caught and repassed both of them after several tries. And soon after I was racing down at Brands, in the big race of the day, on the Hughes 650 Triumph, and was dicing with the American Lance Weil. We were on about lap 13 and I thought ‘Hailwood’s going to come past me soon. I better move over a bit.’ I did, but I needn’t have bothered. He passed me on the outside and almost on the grass. And at the TT, on the 500 Triumph this time, in the Senior, he passed me going down the Cronk Voddy straight and the bike was all over the road. How the hell he held on to it I do not know.
Watching him disappear around the Eleventh Milestone, still weaving from side to side across the road, is an unforgettable memory. He was an utter phenomena, and it was the same later on with Joey Dunlop. A friend of mine, John Harris, used to sponsor me and Joey at the same time, so I used to get Joey’s cast-off fairings and I’ve been passed in races in all sorts of places by him. I remember going into Alpine Cottage once, behind Joey, and coming out I could hardly see him.”
There’s no shame in being bettered by the likes of Hailwood and Dunlop, but to get on the same piece of tarmac is what was clever, and resulted from a fortuitous move – to a draughtsman’s offices, overlooking Hughes Motorcycles. The Hughes Triumphs, prepared by owner Stan Brand and mechanic Ron May, were to be central to Ray’s progression. A 350/500 combination for the TT was augmented with a 650 for 1964, as Ray’s column in Motorcyclist Illustrated became established under the ‘PR Notes’ strapline. Production racing was on a roll and the paddock gossip seemed to resonate far better with the average road rider than the tales of the Grand Prix gods.
1964 and 1965 saw regular victories with a seventh behind Grand Prix regular Tom Phillips in the Hutchinson 100 – won by Mike Hailwood that year – marking quite how far both Ray and his well turned out dealer bikes had come. And as Ray is quick to point out, his were some of the best: “Stan Shenton of Boyers would strip the whole thing down to the last nut and bolt. Then check the frame and wheels for absolute truth. He’d got a good formula for the forks, springs and oil, and those machines really were the best you could have, short of a works one. The first official Thruxton Bonneville sold as such came out around then. Stan Brand had his name near the top of the list and with a batch of 12 released on the Friday I took his to Snetterton on the Saturday and scored two flag-to-flag wins, while recording impressions for MCI. MCI seemed to be getting plenty of recognition, as readers chatted in complementary terms around the paddocks and manufacturers and dealers offered bikes for appraisal, to obtain coverage in the column. Sometimes I did two tests in one weekend, at the same meeting, and then had to write them up as well.”
Between these magazine tests, racing was filled with a mixture of 750cc and 500cc class rides, still on the Hughes’ Triumphs, in what I suggested was rapidly becoming a golden period.
“Oh yes. Many of the club riders were much better than people realised. The races were as good as Nationals and any one of perhaps six could win a race at the British Formula or Southern 67 meetings. You would turn up at a meeting and the first half a dozen would be names. Up at Snetterton, with the Newmarket club and Bemsee, you had to really go some to win anything. There was Peter Butler and Dave Nixon, and I ran into Tony Smith and occasionally a young Dave Potter too. I didn’t come up against Percy (Tait) that much, as he was rarely riding in the same events, but we were both in the same 500 proddy race when he binned the works Doug Hele special, which meant I had an easy ride home that day. And Peter Butler was very good indeed. I remember going over Ballacraine rise, side by side with him, and thinking I’d got him nailed this time. We were running third and I thought I was on for a podium, but halfway down the Sulby straight it went bang.”
That last race with Peter Butler was significant as it was 1967, and at the TT, and marked a real turning point in British Production Racing. A category which Knight was to influence throughout his riding career. It was the first year of the Production TT.
TT winner
In 1968 Knight and Stan Brand concluded it was in the 500 class where they stood the greatest chance of success. Since the 750cc category was already the preserve of full factory machines. The Triumph, as a 500, had also had a new lease of life since its landmark 1966 Daytona victory, and as such it was with a T100 that Ray Knight rolled up to the line in 1968, rather than the anticipated T120.
“For the 1968 season Stan obtained an ex-factory press road test Daytona model at a price that I couldn’t refuse. It was the latest spec and turned out to be the source of many successes, usually running hard on the heels of the 650s.
“I tried for many years on those Hughes Triumphs to lap the Manx GP course at 90mph, but the road holding just couldn’t handle it. You got so close to it chucking you up the road. But as soon as they made a production version if you like, of the Daytona machine, what a difference. It was completely reengineered cos they steered, they really did. And at the TT I actually didn’t see a sole in that race and lapped at near 92mph. I remember afterwards that sitting still in the saddle, as I tried to collect my thoughts, John Blanchard in words I’ll never forget said: ‘Did you win then?’ I nodded. And he continued ‘You must be bloody mad.’ Well that was the greatest complement ever paid to me. If you see what I mean.”
Good result? You bet. And his comments about routinely being hot on the heels of bigger bikes was absolutely true. His race time would have placed him fifth in the 750 class, ahead of the Thruxton Bonneville of Triumph TT legend Malcolm Uphill. It would also have scored a top 20 in the Senior and team Hughes celebrated on the table next to the winner of that particular race.
Where to after the top?
Well after winning the TT in 1968, the answer was second, in 1969. It was followed by a third in 1970, a DNF in 1971, a fourth in 1972 and a seventh in 1973, which chronicled the gradual but inexorable rise of a whole breed of more modern machinery in the 500cc class. It was the same across the board of course, and Knight scored another ‘first’ in 1969, with a victory on one of the brand-new Triumph Tridents, at Thruxton.
Norton was another firm which in truth was in its death throws. Knight was familiar with the products emanating from Bracebridge Street, then Plumstead, with Gus Kuhn variants being the most regularly sampled. It was from the latest home of Norton however, Andover, that an offer too good to be true emerged, the description of which is best cribbed, verbatim, from Knight’s excellent 2013 biography Ever More Speed.
“Then right out of the blue came the call from Frank Perris to be a works rider for Norton in the famous Bol d’or 24-hour Race in France. We were scheduled not just actual folding money, but a hotel, works mechanics, a Norton Villiers Commando and even start money – a whole £50, riches beyond Croesus. It
took me the shortest considered moment in my life to say yes.”
This offer probably resulted from three epic rides Knight had in 1971, while ‘testing’ Boyer’s Trident: “The Boyer Trident was the best there was short of a works bike” – against rising star Dave Potter and his equally impressive Commando. Or from Ray’s increasing involvement in marathon, continental, endurance events, most recently on board a Honda CB750, for the 6-hour Rouen International. He campaigned these events primarily with friend and fellow Manx resident Hugh Evans and the friendship was just as well in the case of the Norton ride since they spent much of the event decamped and denting the hospitality budget, enjoying all that was on offer in the bar and restaurant of the Atlantique Hotel. This while mechanic Ray Simmonds, European sales executive Keith Blair and sundry French mechanics – there was a French team version entered too – addressed the machines’ various shortcomings. These resulted in very little practice and a bike which started in the hands of Knight pinking and soon gathering oil on the rear wheel. Evans then departed, for his own first stint, only to be reported as ‘ospital’ when the Commando’s engine catastrophically gave up the ghost, when engaging top gear.
“I went down to inspect the damage and while viewing the remnants of the motor, Patrick Lefevre, riding the other team bike, crashed down almost at my feet, slamming into the Armco and banging his head so hard as to put him out of the race. ‘Team adandon’ read the bulletins. That was a very, very, badly prepared motorcycle. We found out they were only there as the local Norton agent insisted that they put a bike on the grid. One for him and one for us. Even the works mechanic who came with it said; ‘You’ll only be an hour and half. Don’t worry about 24,’ And he built it! It really was a parts bin special. They promised to return the following year with a properly organised team; they didn’t. Plus, it took me months and several letters to get paid just £25 of the promised £50 as the ‘professional rider’s fee’ for my services. I suppose we’d not even ridden for half the race. But we had more than eaten and drunk our way into the race budget.”
Approaching 40 at this point, and with his familiar British machinery fast disappearing from the tracks, Knight would be forgiven for taking a bow. But far from it, rides on factory and Mead & Tomkinson B50s gave way to Honda’s four-cylinder machines, both 750 and 500cc, the enthusiastic Roger Slater’s Laverdas, an ex-renso Pasolini XR750 Harley- Davidson, TZ and Hossack Yamahas, Rotary Nortons and a whole raft of exotica which were totally out of the reach of those reading the motorcycling press of the day. However, he explored another route, to claim another first, as a BMW became his regular ride.
Production race first
BMWS are everywhere today, with no one doubting their sporting heritage. But in the early 1970s they were associated only with a dying breed of north European sidecar racer and road-going eccentrics. Staid, boring, reliable and expensive, that all changed with the launch of the R90s. Geoff Daryn motorcycles intended to race one and put a few lines in the press advertising for a number two rider. Fate had it that number one was, again, Hugh Evans.
“There was a guy called Reg Pridmore riding for Butler & Smith in the USA and Butler & Smith were the prime movers in producing an R90s that could run with the big fours. Pridmore was also a bit of a demon and he was winning races. Later there was a special kit – talk about production racing! – so we had pistons which had the crown built up, and they cut the barrels down to give us more ground clearance. And it had racing camshafts, so then it was overstressed. I did actually win a production race, the first in this country on a BMW, and I was passing Commandos down the straight, but the following week it blew up.
“But before this we got to know Helmut Dähne, the BMW factory rider. He was a great bloke, and really helpful to us, especially when we went to Le Mans and he was in the next pit. We were running out of revolutions and he said: ‘Don’t rev it like that.’ We said: ‘We’ve only got one bevel drive’ so he said: ‘I’ll lend you one!’ and it made a hell of a difference. We were doing pretty well until someone fell off in the dark, in front of Hugh,
and Hugh crashed. Hugh always had the bad luck when we went to Le Mans. After the event I wrote, as a sort of postscript, that I reckoned that in a Production race, as opposed to the sort of lunacy that we were just involved in, that the bike would be more than competitive and I intended to find out.”
Perhaps he was swayed by the fact that BMW (UK) had also ensured four course meals and a champagne celebration for their 15th place, over 24hrs on a bog stock bike, with just 250 miles on the clock? As in reality Ray’s private bike never quite panned out. The 1975 season started with that maiden victory at Snetterton, and a highly creditable 11th overall at the 24hr Montjuich Park race. But then it was the ‘Bol’ again where, rising up the leaderboard and holding 12th place, co-rider Hugh Evans added to his history of bad luck in France.
“I was having a kip in the Penthouse caravan and was rudely awakened with the news that Hugh had crashed into the wreckage of a fallen machine and had written the bike off. Hugh was a very lucky man to have got away with just an arm and leg in plaster. Campaigning the 900 around club events was less than inspiring for a while, as 850 Nortons, Tridents and even evergreen T120s were proving tough nuts to crack and the available horses were just lacking in the bhp stakes, which kept it off the podium.”
Geoff Daryn’s aforementioned purchase of the Reg Pridmore necessaries sorted this out to an extent, but thereafter set in unreliability. Something always broke and it was probably fate that resulted in co-rider Dave Cartwright ‘totalling’ the bike at the 1976 TT. As from the jaws of disaster, victory – well third – was snatched.
“Talking to Vincent Davey in the paddock, he mentioned that an offer of a ride had been made to him if the R90 was a write-off. It seemed that Laverda importer Roger Slater had actually brought over the 981cc triple pot Jota that was currently leading the Avon Production Machine Championship, to offer it to somebody who had got machine trouble; had we got trouble?”
Had they ever. Not least a number two rider who was hors de combat, since this was the epic ≠ and not to be repeated – 10 lap TT, requiring two riders. Mick Hunt, who’d qualified on a 250, stepped into the breach to race a machine four times the size he was expecting. That must have been daunting, but it was reportedly an odd TT all round, with confusion over placings and ultimately resulted in a third in class. And a £75 bonus. It didn’t dent relations with BMW either and still having some currency with the British importers Ray was asked to partner Dennis Mcmillan on Ongar MC’S version. It resulted in an 11th place finish at the following Barcelona 24hr race and critically a first in class in the Production category.
Turning Japanese
From here on in, four-cylinder Japanese machinery prevailed, both as race and test machines, as that was the way racing was going. MCI was persuaded to actually sponsor a Dresda Honda, before the type was banned – quite probably fairly – as a production type, though Ray’s subsequent choice, of a CBR1100 was equally controversial for many purists. As a confirmed veteran, he continued to do far better in national production racing than he had any right to do. Honda’s Ken Hull was by
this time giving some support in the engine department, and in these ‘prime’ years £75 for a 106mph F1 qualifying lap, at the 1983 British Grand Prix meeting was probably a high point. In the race he salvaged 11th in a really strong field and his own, realistic, summary from the Bol the same year read:
“The picture sticking in my mind is of a dappled sky, the edges of blue/grey clouds highlighted in gold as the dying sun’s rays caught the clouds just before sinking into the blue/black night sky – and the flash of philosophical insight that: ‘I must be bloody mad at my time of life’ when most others of my age are sitting semi-somnambulant in front of the telly, to be hurtling round a piece of tarmac in company with people like Haslam and Marshall. In fact, the other memory that will always remain, was of hammering up very quickly in the darkness behind two slower riders going into one of the ‘S’ bends, the headlamps picking them up as we heeled over hard, still braking at our personal limits. ‘Ron the Rocket’ then picked his way in front of me going in, picked off the next man half way through and then the front one of our trio just as we went in to the really sharp right-hand section. Pure poetry in motion. By the time we’d all got into the straight Ron had taken 20 yards out of the three of us. Nearly wished I was 20 years younger – and with a faster bike. Nnot really at this stage in my career, I was wwell aware of my limitation!
“He may have been aware of his limitations bbut there was obviously still plenty of fight left inn 1984, as a very standard GPZ750 took him to sixth in the F1 class at the Le Mans 24hr rrace, winning the Kawasaki France Trophy to boot, as first Kawasaki home. Fourth in the first Historic 500 TT was also a notable result that year, as was racing a BMW K100 ‘Brick’ inn a BFRC Endurance Race, which through virtue of its bodywork, had built-in mirrors in wwhich to see what trouble was afoot behind.
What marked 1985 out however, was a novel test which was right on the money in capturing the sentiments of the times. Many wwill remember the Suzuki GSXR750. Its launch brought to the market a lightweight aluminum alloy frame, liquid-cooled engine, four-pot calipers and an awful lot of hyperbole. Much justified. The Gixxer was a race bike for the road, so Ray persuaded Suzuki UK to give him one, brand-new, out of the box, to ‘test’ at the TT. They agreed. 29th in the F1 was stupidly quick, against ‘real’ race machines and if his performance didn’t look so trick in the Production race, where he came 21st, have a look at the numbers on the page. Knight’s 98.4mph race average was only 6mph down on winner Mick Grant’s, on what was a horribly wet day. And who followed him home? 22nd was Joey Dunlop, 23rd was Malcolm Lucas, and 24th was Neil Tuxworth. Not so bad for a 53-year-old, who hadn’t ridden the bike until a few days previously and did the running in down Bray Hill. Suzuki UK were equally impressed, both with the ride and write up. So pleased in fact that they reprinted the article, to use as their own PR and advertising material! 1985 actually finished off nicely on the Island all round, with the Naylor trophy for first British twin in the Manx Grand Prix Classic. He did it again in 1986 which was ironic since he never succeeded between 1962-66, when he first competed on a similar machine in the Island’s ‘amateur’ meeting. This pretty much set the tone for Ray’s final years. Dabbling in the resurgent Classic Racing scene while concentrating on testing and racing duel orientated road/street machines.
A greater concentration on the burgeoning 600 and 400 Supersport categories, marked out Ray’s final days and that 1994 crash should have finished it all off of course. But as I sit in Ray’s beautiful Manx cottage, the not so distant howl of pre-tt practice going on, at Jurby, says otherwise.
“There’s a proper circuit there now, not just the old airfield and I almost built it myself, as I was on the end of someone who was dispersing funds, from a defunct will. Due to the magazine I was fiddling with the bike in the drive one day and a guy walked down, looked at me and said: ‘You Ray Knight?’ Usual thing I thought. I’m discovered. They want a chat. Then he said” ‘What are you doing these days?’ ‘Travelling marshal, at the moment,’ and I think I said I was trying to raise money for Jurby. So he asked what did I need? When someone asks you that, what do you say? So, I said £100K. He says: ‘Okay, leave it with me.’ A week later he comes back and says: ‘You got it!’”
“I had to fight to get permission from the Government to build a proper circuit. It was a reserve airfield for a long time, just in case fog came down at Ronaldsway, so they could put something down there. Finally, the airport manager said: ‘Okay, right, we can’t use it anymore, it’s degraded too far.’
“They run about six meetings a year now, the Andreas club. Supersport, 600, open, mixed grids. We were on the committee for 12 years and I started a road racing school up there as well, and that’s still running too.”
A recent check of the club’s website reveals he’s still a vice president. The aforementioned Bonneville still glistens in the garage and a draft of a new production racing book sits on his desk too. So it’s not quite over yet.