It was the hills I really hated. The engine took on a deep, desperate note, threatening at any moment to die a death. I often felt like leaping off and running alongside; the pedals weren't an option because the mechanism was broken. The little 50cc motor was tired, an unknown mileage done until after a couple of decades it'd ended up in my hands, a fifty quid diversion I couldn't resist.
The NVT Easy Rider was just better than walking or cycling, miles ahead of the dangers of public transport and for a couple of miles at a time just about adequate. In heavy town traffic the frightening lack of acceleration and mere 25mph top speed were no great hindrance. The thing was as easy to steer as a pushbike and narrow enough to put even C50's to shame.
Even in its tired state, the stroker still returned 120mpg, about a gallon of fuel contained in the large frame down-tube. The minimal nature of the frame showed some clever engineering on the part of NVT and must've been dead cheap to make. The sophistication of suspension at both ends was ruined by age and subsequent lack of damping. Progress over bumpy going could become a bit traumatic, the skinny tires dipping and diving with the ruined contours of the road. I often felt the need to put both feet down to control the heap.
Nevertheless, ruthless progress through the cars allowed me to reach work in a tenth of the time it'd take in a cage. Stability in between the bumps was much better than I had any right to expect, almost certainly down to the way the engine concentrated the mass right next to the ground.
I think the two-stroke motor was imported from Italy, it was certainly beyond the means of the British motorcycle industry to produce even a simple motor back then. The tiredness of the motor was evident in the smokescreen and rattles emitted, but it always started after a brief push and worked reliably if given a regular monthly going over.
That consisted of decoking the top end and bit of rusty steel box that was supposed to be the exhaust, cleaning the spark plug and setting the points. About two hours work in all. None of the consumables have yet to wear, a consequence of the mind blowing lack of power and minimal mass. That makes it one of the cheapest means of transport I've ever come across.
The only real limit is riding in the dark when the generator has trouble simultaneously running the engine and lights.....the throttle had to be revved to stop the engine cutting out at junctions when the lights flickered dimly. The high tech solution was a pair of bicycle lamps, a quite reasonable solution given that cyclists would quite often come flying past. I do wear a fluorescent bib just to make the best of a bad job.
Some might complain about the tiny drum brakes, but given the minimal speeds involved they seemed adequate to me and never gave any surprises in poor weather. I did have a problem with the front drum sticking on, but that was cleared up by the simple task of taking the front wheel out and emptying the accumulated brake dust out of the hub. Parking has to be carefully considered because bored kids find it highly amusing to let down the tyres or piss in the petrol tank....it's not the kind of bike that inspires much respect, you see.
As a town commuter the Easy Rider's not half bad. Fifty quid seems about right for one that's rusty and tired. I suppose that the odd immaculate one might claim classic status as part of British motorcycle history but I wouldn't pay silly money for one. They do the job in the same vein as a Skoda or Lada car and there ain't much more to be said about the damn things!
Adrian Mullins