The Cornish trip had been decided some time ago, now we were ready. My two mates, Peter and Derek, were coming down from Peterborough riding respectively an Indian Enfield 500 Bullet and Kawasaki 750 Zephyr. I live near Exeter so we would all meet there the night before. So it was, with their bikes and my 550 Zephyr locked in the garage, that we set off to the nearest local to discuss the trip.
Next morning, with the rain lashing down, Peter gave the Bullet a good kicking (no electric start) and, to our horror, the kickstart broke off on the third kick. No problem, or so we thought, an old-fashioned bump start will get the damn thing going. No chance, all that happened was that the back wheel skidded without turning the engine over at all. With such high compression, the compression lever seemed to make no difference whatsoever.
More drastic measures were required, so we fetched a tow rope from the garage and tied it to the Bullet's forks and then to the tow bar of my car. Off round the housing estate we went with the Bullet popping and banging, eventually she started. The bike settled down to a reasonable tickover and the Bonfire Night type racket, which must've woken all the neighbours, had been silenced.
Realising that we couldn't leave the Bullet running for three days I thought we would take the rope in the hope we could get a tow when needed. So with tank bags fitted to all three bikes, waterproofs already doing their best to repel the downpour, we set off for the A30. Cruising speed was, of course, going to be set by the Enfield Bullet, 60mph about all it could manage.
My 550 Zephyr, with a Motad pipe (instead of the OE one with its collector box sucking power), Dynojet kit, K & N filter, plus a small screen to keep the wind off at high speeds, sounded fantastic. Much more power in the mid-range and better fuel economy, the other benefits.
Derek's 750 was in standard trim, apart from a small screen and hard luggage system fitted, as he had done some serious long distance touring in Spain and France. The bigger Kawasaki still had an advantage on top speed but there wasn't much in it up to 90mph... there wasn't going to be much of that kind of riding as we were governed by the 500cc thumper.
With the rain still chucking it down, we turned off the A30 to take the back roads to Truro. With the Bullet in the lead, Derek and I watched as Peter swept around the wet and often mud covered bends. Considering the skinny tyres and poor brakes, the Enfield was not half bad in the twisty bits.
We all stopped for fuel, Peter having to keep the single ticking over despite the switch-off signs everywhere. Alll the bikes were returning 50 plus mpg - mine would normally do 45mpg at higher speeds.
When we reached the first port of call on the Helford estuary, we pulled into a pub which had a sloping car park. Ideal, we thought, for starting the damn 500. After some warming food and drying off in the front of the log fire, we tried to fire up the Bullet by pushing it down the hill with Peter on board - two ear-splitting bangs and then nothing - where's that rope?
After hijacking a local farmer coming out of the pub we tied the bike to the back of his truck. 200 yards later, we were back in business, but only after the wretched machine tried to spit Peter off and into the village phone box!
Still no end to the rain, but my 550's so comfortable and so good to ride I hardly noticed it except that my hands had gone blue from the dye in my soaked summer-weight gloves. The four's so smooth compared with the single's thumping and vibrating its way through Peter's hands, legs and backside - how things have changed in thirty years!
Another fault had by now made itself known in the Bullet's gearbox, only first and fourth gear working, and we had to be in Bude by tea-time. Just before we reached there disaster struck! The 750 was in the lead, the Bullet next, followed by me on the 550. Coming up, a sharp left-hander, the 750 went around OK, but Peter couldn't change down because of the faulty gearbox so he had to give it a hefty handful and footful of brake.
The wheels locked up on the greasy road, with sparks flying. Peter was sliding on his arse towards a stone cottage. Luckily, nothing was coming the other way, | managed to avoid the carnage and slow down the approaching traffic. Peter collected a broken rib from hitting a raised cat's eye but the Bullet was nearly unscathed - shame he couldn't at least have finished the wretched thing off!
With Peter off to the local hospital for a check-up on his ribs, we set off to find a B & B, the Enfield being left in the yard of a friendly local. Next day, Peter and bike hitched a ride home with the RAC. The Kawasakis now able to let rip along the fast North Devon road to Barnstaple and then Tiverton and, finally, Exeter; the sun now shining.
With screens fitted, the two Zephyrs were very comfortable cruising at 95-100mph because of the riding position which without protection from the wind blast would be very tiring after a few miles. The well padded seat helps all-day riding, which a race replica biker can only dream about. All motorcycles should be built this way. The Bullet's rather different and can't be included in that accolade.
Neil Monson