Hacking: Berini moped

A Berini - that’s what it was. No, not a Biryani, that’s a hot Indian dish - a Berini is less than lukewarm, and Italian to boot. Which is a good thing to do to Italians, providing there are no Mafia connections, but I’m digressing already. (Actually, if Indian restaurants had been around then, I may well have nicknamed the bike Poppadum - the Poppa because it was a two-stroke and the Dum what I was for buying it - but I’m digressing again, I think, and my doctor says I must take these pills if I have too many attacks of digression in one article… there - that’s better!)

Not many readers will have even heard of it, let alone ridden one, but it was my first straddle (of any kind!), back in those early Sixties days. Now, in my defence, I would like to say that I was still at school, all my friends - well, the more well heeled ones, or those with older brothers - had access to such missiles as Tiger Cubs, Captains and the odd Bantam, and I was desperate for anything that was a runner and affordable.

This combination was difficult to locate on pocket money - a 2 speed Excelsior might have fitted the bill had not some other desperado beaten me to it - but eventually a neighbour’s son announced that he would be selling his Berini for little more than the price of 20 Gold Leaf (he was wrong - it was a lot more, when ciggies were about two bob for 10, but I’ve started digressing again, doctor).

Thus came into my possession 49cc’s of raw two stroke Italian power, 1959 vintage, and let me tell you, I was impressed! Yes, well, okay, I know it was a moped, but it had proper motor bike style forks and a big headlamp - from the front, it could easily have been mistaken for a real bike. From the rear… perhaps the rear carrier and the sturdy stand did rather destroy the image, but they were so strong that one could sit on the back of the bike, lean right forward and make brm-brm noises… I did not know then that this was going to be the bike’s best feature! What the hell, it was a powered machine! The open road was mine!

The first ride! Strange choke and throttle combined - push a lock button and twist the wrong way. Choke on. Pull in clutch - cunning ratchet engages so that bike can be pedalled away. Reach maximum leg rotation speed (doesn’t take long!) and release clutch lever, when engine fires, twist throttle the right way and off ya go! Easy. Hmm. Six goes later, I remember to turn on the petrol. Classic error!

Cough, cough, splutter…it’s gonna work…. yes - here we go…off up the road at unprecedented speed - no idea what it is (no speedo) but it feels fast! God, it’s so noisy after a push bike, and the sensation of wind in the hair (no helmets then, of course!) is just, well - exhilarating ain’t the word!

Starting accomplished, but what about, er, stopping? Aarghhhhh! Drum front brake, but the lever meets the handlebar before the linings meet the drum - whoops! Back brake, then. Aarghhhhhh! The Berini employs a coaster hub - a crafty device, in that it allows one to pedal away, freewheel at all times when riding, and by pressing backwards on the pedals, the rear hub brake gets applied. Or not.

Incredible, eh? You don't see 'em like that today, and that’s because the sodding things don’t work as brakes, and never did - which is probably exactly why you don’t see 'em like that today… discovering these engineering inadequacies on the road is not recommended. The old push-bike trick of putting feet down in dire emergencies (which all stops were!) I only tried once, and I still have the scars where the pedals dug into my legs.

Other interesting Berini features included a chain which would wrap itself around any part of the rear wheel in preference to the sprocket, and two generally treadless tyres (probably original - whitewalls, though, just like a Ford Zodiac!) A combination of these features and a bumpy level crossing left me with a flat, a jumped chain and a 3 mile push home. This was probably what I deserved, as I was not really interested in anything other than top speed.

The book said up to 38mph, but without a speedo, how could I tell? So - I bought one, fitted it, went out and prepared to send the needle off the clock. And so I would have done, had the clock stopped at 19mph. 20mph - that was it, however long I waited! 20? I must have fitted it wrong. The gearing is out. Nope. A kid on a racing bike chooses this moment to pass and disappears into the distance - I check to make sure I haven’t got the back brake on! Oh, the shame of it! Something has to be done!

Well, on dismantling the engine - carbon was everywhere! The rings were gummed up, the ports were down to about half their designed width and there was an interesting depression in the top of the piston - long reach plug hitting it? With a variety of furiously non technical tools (e.g. pin and crochet hook) most of the deposits were withdrawn. Take the rings off - bugger - broke one!

Now - how to get spares for a Berini in Peterborough? Some chance! Even then, no one had ever heard of one! My brother eventually tracks down a potential supplier, and - yes - they can get a set. Cost a bomb, and only three weeks delivery - some things don’t change! They duly arrive - now for the grand refitting. Hmm - not that simple. Can’t get the barrel over the rings...

Pause for thought. Teenage brain says - heat expands things. Therefore - place barrel on lighted gas ring for several minutes until hot and then try again. Barrel is duly heated to considerable temperature, thus making it impossible to pick up. Teenage thought two - use mother’s washing tongs to pick up barrel. Teenage thought three - how to stick back three broken cooling fins from hot barrel now lying on quarry tiled floor of kitchen. No Araldite in those days, of course.

Oh well, sod it! Lose temper and force barrel over rings and tighten everything up. Now for the performance test! Pedal, drop clutch, engine catches and …wow! Acceleration as never previously experienced propels me towards the horizon. A good 35mph on the speedo without getting flat on the tank - more than enough to put any kid on a push-bike well and truly in the exhaust fumes!

And so it is for a short while…..I can even break the speed limit! With rare enthusiasm, I decide to treat the machine to a repaint in fetching two tone blue. It looks the bee’s knees to me, (no dogs had bollocks, then!) and so it should, considering all the time I spent in a dark shed in November after school doing it. Others are strangely unimpressed.

The Berini is not too happy either, and makes its feelings known with strange chuffing noises which would not have embarrassed Thomas the Tank Engine, and a serious lack of power. Investigation reveals a stud pulled out of the block - must have been the strain of those unaccustomed extra revs! Major disaster. I wish now I hadn’t put the bloody speedo on it!

Now, I am sure it would have been a simple matter to insert a helicoil, but I didn’t know then they existed, and my brother’s engineering degree clearly didn’t extend to such matters. Anyway, the thing still ran, after a fashion, and would do its original 20mph, albeit with much chuffing and clouds of smoke. I somehow convinced a purchaser that a tune up was all that was needed, and so exit Berini, stage right, smoking.

The price was only equivalent to 15 packets of fags, (and if you think that’s a disastrous deal, you should hear about some later ones!). Anyway, it was time to contemplate my two wheeled future. Of course, what I really wanted was an Ariel Arrow, which came with something which today would have been called street cred and was still within the learner limit of the day. But how to overcome parental opposition and lack of funds...

R P Brown