The Musings of Mr. Wolverine - August Edition.

[Wolverine .303]

Good Day All,

Midsummer, the sun is shinning, I look out across the valley and think how good it would feel to kick a bike into power and roar away.

I only owned one bike, she was a used BSA C15 Star in their beautiful BSA dark maroon colour. Cost me 45 GBP, I had to sell my canoe and air rifle to help raise the cash. Mum was dead against me having a bike but I worked on Dad as he had owned a Brough Superior and liked bikes. Most of my friends were getting high speed multi cylinder two stroke Japanese machines but I wanted to be different. I saw a BSA C15 Star in a local motor bike shop, I liked her but next time I visited she was gone. Then I found one advertised for sale privately, Dad and I went to look at her, Dad started her up and disappeared on a test run, it seemed ages before he came back, he was smiling, he looked at me and said he thought she was to big for me! I worked on him quickly and a deal was done. The owner delivered my bike to the farm and Dad drove him back to town.



I seized my chance as Mum was out so I was home alone, I pushed my bike out of the drive into the meadow by the house. Hell was she heavy, good job there was only a side stand because I doubt I could have got her up on a center stand. The bike and I fell over the first time I tried the kick start, then I flooded her. Eventually I had her running, pulled the clutch in, put my toe on the gear shift, one down and three up. One down, "snick", as she went into gear, release the clutch twist the throttle and we were away, at that moment I wouldn,t have traded my bike for even a girl. This was unbelievable.

My bike was a single, 4 stroke, 250 cc, simple electrics with a kick start, the only poor features were drum brakes and a 6 volt head lamp, you really need good "night vision" on a dark night!

So I would climb on, kick the stand up, push forward to check she was in neutral, take the fuel cap off, rock the bike to look and listen for how much fuel was in the tank, no fuel gauge. Then gentle push down on the kick start until I could feel compression, foot off, reach under the petrol tank, turn the tap on, tickle the carb ( no choke, the tickler was a spring loaded pin that would depress the float allowing extra petrol into the carb) turn the electric switch to on, this was behind my right thigh, no ignition key. Then foot on the kick start, throw all my weight onto that leg and push down, it was very rare that she failed to start first time. She sounded beautiful, the previous owned had installed a super after market exhaust and did she roar. I used to love beating up the back alleys in Bury St Edmunds on a dark night after leaving the pictures, the roar just echoed off the walls in the tiny streets and then I beat it before the local Police in their Panda cars showed up, once they arrived a big Austin Westminster. I had been "set up", I could not outrun him so I beat it home on all the back roads, all black top, but single lane and twisted and turned in all directions, I remember I wore my foot rests down that night, what fun, I lost the Police in the first two miles but never slowed up, I would love to go out and do that right now. Where the exhaust pipe came out the cylinder head the chromed pipe had turned a rich blue from the heat.

For two years that BSA represented my freedom, she never let me down, I failed her once when we disappeared into a deep ditch. I needed help to drag her out, but she started and took me home despite my cracked ribs and her bent handle bars. Sadly life moved on and I reluctantly was forced to sell her to raise money for my first Austin Mini pick up.
-
Mr. Wolverine

[45ACPKING]

sounds like it's time for another bike there Mr Wolverine
you sound like an Indian Scout kinda guy, you should check out the scout sixty shadow black

I enjoyed reading your musings

[wolf19534]

I can relate to your "musing"...My very first bike was a 1972 650 B.S.A. Lightning. new in the crate in 1972.

[buji88]

What a great story! You should do a memior! Id read it!

[El_Monty457]

My memories of motorbiking (dirt riding) as I was growing up are some of my fondest.
I rode dirt bikes since I was around 11 years old, and after I got my first one, a new '72 Kawi 90 cc that I used as a "scrambler", often denting the pipe that was never intended for the trails (hah, hah), I soon joined my brother-in-law in rides through the nearby pastures and bushland trails with him riding his old Triumph Trophy 250 (a true 'scrambler', with a high exhaust pipe, although a passenger could burn their leg on it if not careful). Your tale of the 4-stroke BSA 250 reminded me of his Brit bike bike a bit, as it was the same config, single cylinder 4-stroke thumper. I only rode his Trophy a couple times and at the time (in my late pre-teens) I always felt it was a brute to handle compared to my lithe little Kawi, but they're apples and oranges anyways. The thing was we always had a great time, roaming the trails, and stealing home along the backroads as discreetly as we could, as I wasn't legal road age yet. One of my fond memories was when a regional cruiser pulled us over, actually me, for being on the road with no plates or license. My brother-in-law was well old enough and had his license. I was sternly told to walk my bike the rest of the way home on the shoulder, and my bro-in-law dutifully agreed to make sure I did that . After the officer drove away, I started pushing the Kawi home, and then my bro-in-law rode over the nearby rise in the road and came back to tell me he was gone and nowhere in sight, after which I kicked the Kawi over and we blitzed down the road to a nearby open farmer's gate and hi-tailed it home on a short-cut along the edges of a series of cow pastures, which took us within a couple blocks of my parents place, where it took us about a minute to scoot home down the street before anyone was the wiser. It's too bad they developed those pastures years ago into a characterless housing subdivision of cookie-cutter houses and town-homes. Every time I drive by the area I remember how I used to ride my dirt bikes through what is now most of their yards. When I later got a real purpose-made enduro type bike, we would also frequent the trails along the nearby abandoned horse tow-paths of the smaller, stone-built versions of the early Welland Canal, which made for great dike biking paths. Sadly, these days those trails are all but closed off for any motor bikes. Makes me glad I grew up when I did, when all of that was publicly accessible, before the insurance barons took all the fun out of growing up. When if you crashed, you owned up to it, brushed yourself off, fixed up your bike, and didn't blame society for not protecting you from harm. You learned and developed your skills, and used your own common sense, which these days seems not too common.
Cheers.

ps.
One of these days I might get one of those new Triumphs. ;-)

BTW, one of my old dirt bike riding compatriots resides on the opposite side of the country now, and just might see this post.
We all started on minibikes, and we cut our teeth on his Z50 and later CT-70, hah, hah.

[IronCanadian]

I live vicariously through your musings Mr. Wolverine.

[Rule 303]

Reminds me of riding "my" issue Triumph TRW.

The glories of experiencing Lucas Electrics...Prince of Darkness.

One down, three up...exhaust damper for sh1ts and giggles.

Tool box right side which held a mickey bottle of rye.

Saddle bags which held all the rest of your gear.

Happy days, happy trails, happy memories.

56-90673.

[Mil Specs]

Not mine, but one I have been looking at.And yet if only it were 45 GBP . My first bike was a 1981 400 cc yamaha maxim that lived under a tarp for 4 weeks before my mom had figured out it was mine. Thank god for full face helmets and a busy working single mom and a Dad who put me on a summer work plan to pay it off . That bike is 1969 BSA Lightning 650 Fully Restored Zero Km For Sale $10995.

[Mr Wolverine]

Not mine, but one I have been looking at.And yet if only it were 45 GBP . My first bike was a 1981 400 cc yamaha maxim that lived under a tarp for 4 weeks before my mom had figured out it was mine. Thank god for full face helmets and a busy working single mom and a Dad who put me on a summer work plan to pay it off . That bike is 1969 BSA Lightning 650 Fully Restored Zero Km For Sale $10995.

Now she is a real bike, I know what I will be dreaming about tonight, if only I had $11,000 burning a hole in my pocket.

[Darkw]

I think you'd like the Triumph 1200 Scrambler that is soon to be released Mr. Hipwell. It may even have taken you through that ditch and out the other side if you'd had it back then ☺️