VENOM ENVY

Reading Mr Miles’ article about his Velocette Venom in RC203 has re-ignited that desire in me to finally own one. Thanks a bunch!

How I envy all those Velo fellows. No doubt they have owned their machines since back in the day when you could barely give them away, or they inherited them from their fathers, uncles, brothers, neighbours, or perhaps they discovered them abandoned in hedges or maybe they even came free in a box of cornflakes.

For me, their asking price is the major stumbling block to ownership. A real deal breaker. It is difficult to see how a 60 yearold, 500cc single-cylinder motorcycle could be worth north of eight thousand of anybody’s hard-earned cash. Nearly four times what I paid for my 2016 Enfield Bullet EFI (12V electrics, electric start, electronic ignition) or, better yet, the same price as a new Ducati Scrambler Icon that will come complete with a warranty, roadside assistance, a dealership network, and a factory that still makes the things.

There is a real disconnect here that begs deeper investigation.

‘But it’s a Venom!’ I hear you cry. Yes indeed. A Velo. But what does that actually mean in reality? The mere name is not enough. How has that reputation been earned? Is it deserved and moreover is it still even relevant today? What will that money actually buy me that can be used in the real world?

Those with a more lyrical leaning than me will be eager to observe that in asking such questions I am missing the point, and that these machines were all practically hand-built in Hall Green by stand-up chaps in brown overalls, smoking pipes. Hence Velocettes should now be considered as historical artefacts in their own right and valued as such, much like a set of limited edition prints of a famous painting. All well and good, but for my money a motorcycle still needs to have lasting functionality as well as sculptural presence.

So here’s the thing. I think I might be able to answer my own questions, at least in part, based on my own brief experiences with the marque:

Let us set aside for the time being their reputation for problematic starting, poor electrics, interesting clutch configuration and the fact that most of them will be well over 50 years old by now. Let us instead focus on their manner of going, their road manners which from memory are very fine indeed. On one occasion, on a day’s tour round the lanes of Warwickshire, the 1960 Venom that I was on seemed to seek out corners and would simply glide you round. It was all very seductive.

In the power department you get a motor that, when put together right by someone who knows what they are doing, is a real peach. Unlike lesser Brit singles that seem to run out of steam and get harsh and unpleasant when revved beyond their comfort zone, the Velo seemed to keep its composure and stayed relatively smooth. It just seemed to keep on giving. I suppose this is this is what they mean by breeding.

It was often the case that I would be blatting down some B-road at 60mph, thinking that I was in top when in fact I was still only in third. Snicking into fourth would carry me up over 70mph with ease and on towards 80. On another occasion I was piloting an older MSS on some more challenging surfaces up and down the foothills of the Pyrenees and along the coast of the Costa Brava. The whole experience was just a sheer delight.

Supposing I threw common sense out of the window and let one of the specialist Velocette dealers denude the contents of my pension fund to the tune of nine or ten grand. I would need to learn a whole new language of magnetos and dynamos (my classic bike journey started with alternators and coil ignition), not to mention mastering the tricksy starting procedure and interesting clutch arrangement. Then, knowing my luck, the beast would go ‘phut’ in a terminal way after three weeks of ownership and with no warranty or handy dealer nearby I’d be left with a very heavy and expensive ornament to go with my much lighter bank balance.

No, it is no good. For the foreseeable future at least, Venom ownership will be an itch that will have to remain unscratched. A real shame as I still really want one. But hey, never mind, I think I have the phone number of my nearest Ducati dealership... Phil Holloway, member 185

We’ll, that’s definitely put the pussycat among the pigeons, thanks Phil! I must admit that my choice of regular ride is more likely to be a bike valued at £2000 than one with a £20k price tag. And that has nothing to do with how much they actually cost – and everything to do with how much I enjoy riding them… Rowena