DOES ANYTHING
Dave Simmons’ comments in RC213 on the Triumph TR6P were very interesting to me. Back in the dim and distant mid1960s, when I was a young soldier serving Her Majesty, I came home on leave from Germany. My friend Tim asked me to go to Cornwall at Easter to watch something called the Land’s End Trial staged by the Motor Cycling Club at Bluehills, a location he described as a spectacular setting on the north Cornwall coast.
We arrived at Bluehills Mine late morning on Easter Saturday and walked down to what must be one of the most spectacular spots to watch motorsport. The section, Bluehills 2, is effectively a straight climb up from the bottom of the cleft in the cliffs and is covered in loose rock and stone. We watched the early riders, mostly on 1950s and 60s AMC / Norton trials machines – plus some of the new Spanish two-strokes – make some clean but steady climbs.
Then all hell let loose as Alec Smith, a Metropolitan Police rider on a TR6P Saint, came flying up, scattering stones in all directions to a tumultuous applause from the spectators. That image has stuck in my mind ever since and was enough to persuade me in 1985 to join the MCC and experience long distance trials for myself. I was fortunate enough to meet Alec and he was very encouraging to a young and inexperienced trials rider. Alec and his compadre in crime Dave Minskip were both great riders, and surely made sure the Saint was recognised for its trials ability as well as being the bike you didn’t want to spot in your rear-view mirror.
I bought my own TR6 Trophy (where are you, PBD 79F?) soon after I returned from Singapore in 1969 and found myself posted to an attachment with the Royal Marines in Plymouth.
The photos show one of my Canadian nephews on the Triumph, and the bike with a fairing fitted alongside a reservoir somewhere in Ireland.
My girlfriend worked near Deal in Kent, and consequently the TR6 was pressed into service every weekend to carry me from Plymouth to Deal and back, 300 miles each way. On Friday I would leave Plymouth about 4pm and arrive in Deal at about 10.30pm. Then on Sunday I would leave at around 11pm and ride through the night to arrive back in Plymouth around 6.30am, just enough time to shower and breakfast in the mess before showing up for work. The only motorway was a few miles around Maidstone, and the only route south of London was the A25.
As far as I can recollect I was never late back to Plymouth despite several incidents, such as falling off on black ice while crossing Salisbury Plain, breaking a chain on the Maidstone bypass (which was repaired using the chain link extractor and spare link), and one night when the TR6 dropped onto one cylinder except between 4000 and 5000rpm, which made riding through towns like Wincanton and Ilchester interesting to say the least.
I have to admit that British bikes do not exactly light my fire now, and I have no wish to repeat my experiences of 50-plus years ago, but Dave’s story certainly brought back memories. A great bike. Tony Bishop, member 7623