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