The Pillion Years
Like many of us, Michael Griffiths can divide his motorcycling life into various stages and we are delighted to bring you the first of those recollections as he recalls his early teenage years.
There was a group of about six boys living in our street who were all three or four years older than me – I would have been around 13 years of age at the time – and who all owned motorcycles, some of which were of extremely doubtful pedigree. For some reason I was entranced by the sound of the various engines and immediately one started up I would rush out of the house to see which one it was. And so I became a perfect pest to these guys.
Then one made a big mistake by offering to take me for a ride. I was hooked. I spent the next three years scrounging rides at every opportunity and the guys were very good to me. I went out on the back of a hand change BSA sloper and, when that was ‘in dock,’ a 1947 Triumph 3T was pressed into service as a replacement, but I had to learn to sit on the dual seat at an angle as it was held on by a leather belt.
A universal currency
I soon discovered the currency to pay for the lifts: cigarettes. As long as I had a packet of Players or Senior Service in my pocket to share I was accepted. Going to the cinema once a week was always a gamble as there was the inevitable doubt as to whose lights were working. One chap never had a rear light so I held a torch that had its glass painted red behind me to do the job.
Other bikes included a 125 James, a BSA C11, both of which were well kept, a scruffy girder forked Matchless and a 500 Ariel with a separate pillion seat re-stuffed so it was so high I could see over the rider’s head with ease. There was also a BSA rigid A7 that had been beautifully converted into a street scrambler by changing cosmetic parts. It had a Bantam tank attractively painted Post Office red, alloy mudguards, scrambler bars, high level siamesed pipes and a Bantam dual seat. However, it was a pig to ride on the back of as it only had one rear footrest.
There were two events that I remember well. The first was a ride on the back of a sprung hub Thunderbird from Brighton to Brands Hatch. With a borrowed crash hat and my father’s greatcoat worn back to front I still froze, but I was in ecstasy for a week afterwards.
A BSA wins over a Black Shadow!
Then one of the boys’ fathers had to deliver a Vincent Black Shadow for a dealer and return with the customer’s BSA A7. This was very interesting. Of course, the performance was a given and ‘we’ certainly got the pistons to the top, but the bike was a handful through the traffic thanks to the servo clutch and the engine did not seem to want to idle happily. The bike seemed fractious and it was not a relaxing ride. The A7 was exactly the opposite. Smart in its black and chrome with a ‘pig’s head’ fibre glass fairing and matching Craven panniers, its speed was half that of the Vincent but it was twice as comfortable. It was a smooth relaxing ride all the way back. Sorry VOC, but I preferred the Beeza every time!
During these years I was paying the Blue ’Un and the Green ’Un far more attention than my maths books and the likes of Ixion and
Carbon and Nitor became my tutors, and the pronouncements of a certain Vic Willoughby were absolute gospel.
Nevertheless, it was the humble pedal cycle that was my day-today transport. I used it to go to school, to go shopping and to visit friends. Like most others we had no phone or car. I even followed nearby scrambles meetings with it. Usually once a month there was an event held at Golding Barn, near Small Dole, Henfield in Sussex. Despite it being about 11 miles each way from home I managed to get to most meetings on my fairly basic Hercules bike. It was always worth the effort to watch the battles between Graham Beamish on his Gold Star and Ken Heanes on the Triumph Trophy.
At the age of 14½ I got a job delivering groceries on a ‘trade bike’ two evenings a week and Saturday mornings (beat you to it, Tesco!) to save up for my first motorcycle. Thus, on my 16th birthday, I had a bike of my own for the first time.
NEXT MONTH: Mr Griffiths brings us The Ownership Years.