Roy Poynting column
As Bob Dylan famously sang in 1964, things are moving on, not just in the world in general, but in the classic motorcycle world too.
“I know there’s nothing remarkable about either my personal history, or my attitudes, but I’m also sadly aware that lifelong riders and enthusiasts like myself are a diminishing breed.”
Since I first teetered onto the road as a 16-yearold paperboy with L-plates, I’ve never been without an old motorbike. Admittedly, my first one didn’t seem particularly old, as the cautious evolution of British motorbikes meant that designs had changed little in the early postwar years. Several similar bikes followed, and it came as a surprise to realise they were beginning to acquire something called classic status, which entitled me to join the Vintage Motor Cycle Club under its still-contentious 25 year eligibility rule. That’s when I decided that such machines were more suited to club runs than everyday use, and brought more modern ones into my garage.
I know there’s nothing remarkable about either my personal history, or my attitudes, but I’m also sadly aware that lifelong riders and enthusiasts like myself are a diminishing breed. When I first joined the VMCC, the majority of other members had also always owned bikes – often the same one – and had never totally stopped using them. In contrast, the majority of today’s old bike fans seem to be those who rode in their youth, returning to motorcycling after years driving bigger vehicles, raising families, buying houses, and pursuing careers. Nothing wrong with any of that, of course, it’s just the way things turned out. Nearly all of us rode bikes in the first place because we couldn’t afford cars, and if some never got out of the habit, while others had little choice but to change course temporarily, at least we’re all singing from the same hymn sheet now.
Unfortunately, the hymn that comes to mind is Abide With Me, with its ominous refrain ‘fast falls the eventide.’ Many of the lifelong motorcyclists I started out with have already gone to the classic museum in the sky, and if the ‘reborn’ motorcyclists dropped out once before, there’s no guarantee their rekindled enthusiasm will be long-lived now. No wonder there is considerable discussion about how to expand the old bike movement, or even keep it ticking over at its present level.
Well, to be honest, I don’t think either situation is very likely. There have been initiatives, of course; prizes for young restorers, concessionary entries to shows and runs, and so on. But even when clubs have managed to attract new members, many of the bornagain brigade are disappointed to find that wet, cold, and potentially hazardous reality bears little resemblance to their rosetinted memories. And if those chaps find it difficult to retain their enthusiasm, it’s no wonder new recruits lose heart even quicker; especially when they realise how much money, stoicism and mechanical ability is demanded by old bikes. So we are generally left with long-term members who have come to terms with the present situation, even if (to quote Max Bygraves) ‘Fings ain’t wot they used t’ be.’
Oh dear, I sound very pessimistic and defeatist, don’t I? But I’m actually not. When I joined the VMCC its membership numbered just a few thousand, local club runs and club nights rarely attracted more than a couple of dozen members, and bikes were typically old bangers dragged out of semi-retirement and livened up with a brush-coat of Valspar. Despite continuing concerns about the VMCC’s financial stability, membership has since quadrupled, significantly more members attend Section events, and the standard of restoration is immeasurably higher. Admittedly the halcyon days when social runs attracted 50 riders, and the Banbury run was seriously oversubscribed, may have passed, but there are still incredible numbers of people somehow involved with classic bikes.
Just look at the throng attending autojumbles, while the autojumbles themselves are more numerous, bigger, and more professionally run than in the past. Similarly, there is no shortage of firms offering support services for mechanical repairs, plating, and painting. Many of them – including nationally-known names like Armours, Britbits, Central Wheels, Draganfly, RK Leighton and Robin James – were already in business when I first became involved and are still going strong 30-plus years later. And we mustn’t forget the magazine you are reading is rapidly approaching its 40th birthday.
All in all, it doesn’t sound too much like a hobby on its knees or in danger of immediate extinction, does it? And, if fewer riders are actually turning out for events, it seems – around here at least – that more ex-riders are coming along to spectate at them, and to socialise at club nights. Things are different, certainly, but hopefully it’s much too soon to start penning the obituary.