A memorable visit to Beenham
In an article by Jeff Smith some years ago, Jeff recalled an event which I’m recounting here. Jeff was allowed by the organisers to ride his Can-Am at Beenham although his gear change was on the opposite side to British bikes. He had been riding Can-Ams for 10 years, which was understandable.
In his article Jeff had said: “As I sat astride the motorcycle on the starting line, someone touched my elbow. His head was shaved and he wore an earring in his left ear. The legs of his trousers were about six inches too short and revealed two enormous black boots. He looked at me as if I came from another planet. “’Ere mate,” he said, “how come you can ride, that’s not on, mate.”
I started to explain but was interrupted by the falling of the gate and I motored away. I don’t know if it was a bunch of rogues or a chance incident. However, I didn’t feel safe until I was inside the big bird, winging back to the United States feeling slightly guilty, but very satisfied.”
I was attending that same event and was one of the bunch of rogues that Jeff Smith mentioned. I was a member of the Mortimer Motorcycle Club, though I had never had the time to attend the club meetings. I would volunteer the day before an event to help where needed to get the track prepared.
I’d mentioned to one of my sons that I would be there at 10.30am. That didn’t happen as I had to attend a small emergency job. (My other son couldn’t attend the event due to recently having had a serious motorcycle accident.) So I arrived at 11.50am, quickly changed, then wheeled my bike over to the scrutineer to be checked – passed! Then I rode over to the starting area.
My son was pointing to a gap in the middle of the row. My mind was thinking: “That’s impossible.” The centre section is always taken up first. On arriving at this large gap, I found the reason why. There was a rider sitting on a new Can-Am bike. I thought he was in the wrong race. When I looked to my left I could see British bikes and I saw my son talking to this rider but as I hadn’t received a programme I didn’t know who he was.
I must mention the starting lineup takes approximately 45 bikes. The centre section is best because the track tapers, especially on the right-hand side, and if you’re on that side, hold back until the charge of the light brigade has gone through. Then, after approximately
250 yards, there was a 90-degree left elbow bend which thins down more riders.
So here we are, it’s an electric starting gate and the track marshal is always eager to start the first race. The gate shot up and the unknown (to me) rider went like a rocket, away 10 yards in front. I was amazed and another 10 riders had left the starting gate before me. My brain cells were saying: “Be calm. Don’t forget you’re going to work on Monday and you don’t want to be a guest at the local hospital.”
What I hadn’t mentioned was that I was riding an ex-Brian Wade 250cc Greeves; he had won the
British Championship on that type of bike. It’s a very fast bike, the engine internals were all polished, so I started to overtake some riders. As I went past one rider on a thumper, I pointed to his rear wheel hubs from where flames around two to three inches were coming – probably his brake shoes were locked, causing the wheel bearing grease to catch fire. (More on that later.)
On the first lap, the Can-Am rider must have been so far ahead that I didn’t see him. On the second lap. I spotted this rider about 60 yards in front so I increased my speed on a left-hand curve. Big mistake. The rear wheel slid outwards and down I went. I was winded. One of the track marshals said to me: “Rest,” but my response was: “No chance.” I quickly got the bike upright, ready to restart, but it was a good job I didn’t. The petrol tank was made of glass fibre and the end of the handlebar had damaged it to the size of a golf ball and it was dripping petrol. Then, as the other riders went past, one of the rogues gave me a Churchill salute – very kind.
So I walked down from the top of the field with the Greeves at an angle to avoid petrol dripping on the hot engine and returned to the pits. Fortunately, I had a glass fibre repair kit with which I repaired the crack. The rider who I had passed earlier and had pointed to his rear wheel hub came and apologised for being in the way, this being a misunderstanding. I said about the flames coming from his back brake hub. His reply was: “No wonder I couldn’t get any speed from the bike!” He thanked me and said he’d sort the problem out before the next race. I quickly said to him: “Who’s the guy on the new Can-Am?” “That’s Jeff Smith,” he said – well, Jeff Smith was one of my heroes.
They were happy days. I used to cycle to Beenham and Aldworth, both very good tracks in the 1950s before
I got my first bike. Sadly they’ve both gone now and only memories remain.
Recently I read an article in OBM about my old friend Brian Jones with his dodgy bike. He could have been killed on that lash-up, which is what prompted me to put pen to paper and submit this story.