Quick reactions and cheek will get you everywhere

This is my experience of taking the driving test in 1952. My first motorcycle was a 1936 150cc New Imperial, hand-change, three-speed, bought for £15 pounds – £10 down and five shillings a week on the never-never.

In those days, there was no such thing as an MoT. But the vehicle had to be in ‘good roadworthy condition’ of which more anon. You had to know the Highway Code virtually word for word, and failure to answer even one question correctly was not allowed and was deemed a failure. No multiple choice questions here!

Now, to prepare for the test I bought an exchange set of front shoes from Kaye’s of Ealing. The front brake drum was only about three inches in diameter and was very poor.

Being ignorant of such things such as bedding the brakes in, the result was that a week later I had a front brake that was even more pitiful than before. However, it had to do, so off to the test centre in

Hendon. I had learned the Highway Code virtually word for word, from the outside of the front cover to the outside of the back cover so I had no trouble with the three or four questions.

Next came the test ride. The instructor said: “Go down there,” and pointed to the road opposite. “Turn left at the first junction, then left at the next one, then turn left at the next one and continue riding this box. At some point I shall be at the side of the road. When I wave my newspaper down you are to stop as soon as you can.”

“Okay, yes sir.” At the second left turn the clutch stopped driving the bike. This was a large cork disc driven by one steel plate which was held by a nut on a centre bolt. In those days Loctite hadn’t been invented and I had no way of locking the tag nuts tight. However, it took me about 10 minutes to effect repairs before proceeding.

The tester waved me down. “Where have you been?”

“Sorry, sir. I took the wrong turn and got lost.” I couldn’t tell him about the clutch failure as this in turn would be a failed test. He shook his head and told me to carry on. My next hurdle was the dreaded emergency stop. To make sure I could see him he made the mistake of stepping into the road when making the signal. I reacted very quickly. But the brakes being so poor, he had to step out of the way as I sailed past him. I finally came to a stop about 20 yards past him. “What on earth was that supposed to be?” he said. I explained about the new brake linings not being bedded in and I feared the worst. Then I said to him: “My reactions were very good, though!” He must have admired my cheek as he grunted and said the magic words, “passed the test”. I was elated and as soon as he was out of sight I took off the L-plates. Marvellous, free at last! I felt like a king.