Saturday 18 August 2018

Instructin'

In the mid to late seventies, believe it or not, there was only a one part test. And you could ride machines of up to 250cc on L plates, no 12hp 125s or compulsory training. There were two major training schemes, the Star Rider and the council overseen RAC/ACU proficiency scheme. For my sins, l was an instructor on the latter. A mate taking his test recently made me think of some of the fun we had then.
 

Our pupils were a mixed lot, from smart-arse wheelie merchants on X7s to Hells Grannies on Puke Maxis. The basic course was 12 weeks of mixed theory, on the road and in the playground practical. Most folk came because they thought it a wise idea, especially the older folk who had last ridden a quaint Norman Nippy in 1955.

Some of the younger ones had been forced into it by parents who wouldn't sign the HP form for the X7/RD unless little Johnny got some training. The last named were at the same time the quickest learners and the biggest pains in the butt. The instructors were all unpaid volunteers. Expenses could be claimed but it was so much hassle and paperwork we didn't bother most of the time.
 

The course came under the auspices of the local Road Safety Officer - he seemed to have more interest in the public image of the scheme than owt else. A move to outlaw greasy jeans and tatty leathers was thwarted when it was realised this would eliminate 70% of the instructors.

Another interesting side effect of public relations came when we were selected to appear in a TV programme. Instead of filming us in the school playground where we normally taught slow speed control, a showground complete with mock town was used. It might have made good telly, but had nothing to do with our tuition. For several months after pupils were disappointed in our somewhat cruder facilities.

The bikes available for use by learners were two Honda CB125S singles, a pair of the famed Bloops (B120P Suzis) and a handful of Honda mopeds. The 125S had continual electrical problems and both they and the Bloops were replaced by Suzuki A100s. The instructors used their own machines, Honda middleweights the most popular, CX500s taking over from CB400 fours as the V-twin became more established. A Triumph Tiger, Guzzi V50, Benelli 750 six and my Commando formed the Euro contingent. Contrary to popular belief none of us had BMWs! 


The real stars were the pupils. Some stick in the mind, some in the throat. One who springs to mind was a nice old gent who fell off a lot. He came with the typical standard issue bike for our Senior Cits - a Benly with top box, much used crashbars and a tri-point screen.
 

His theory was fine but he could not get it together with the bike. Ask him to brake gently, and several yards of tread would be left on the tarmac, sometimes he fell off. The figure of eight test, meant to test slow speed control, he would attempt to do as fast as possible. Sometimes he fell off.In the end, two other instructors would stand by, ready to grab the bike as it went over.
 

After a record breaking six months on the course, some finesse had been introduced to his technique and he passed both RAC and ministry tests. I hope he never buys an LC, as his throttle opening was still a bit snatched. Didn’t matter with the Benly, but...

In 1978 one of the pupils had one of the much publicised X7 250cc Suzukis new, and we eagerly awaited for the bike to be run in so we could see if it could do the rumoured ton. Solo or two up. it would do it. Trouble was, the following GT380 and CB400/4 had only 80mph on their clocks. We all had a spin and though I loved the broken glass crackle of the exhausts, it felt so light and twitchy on the road. I refused to take it above 60mph. We returned the bike to the pupil, advising him to fit some decent tyres.

Another pair of bikes which were popular with the learners were both four strokes. The early Fat Dream before they became Super had a brief spell of being used by pupils and instructors. until a few just out of warranty (6 months then) had failures of the much hyped balancer chains.

The XT250 Yam was also quite common, at one stage I think there were four of the pretty black and white trailsters. All of which had head hassles inside the warranty period. Then two of them were off the road for a month as one of the tyres was an odd size and there weren't many in the UK. At least it gave them a chance to polish up their gold wheels before the finish fell off.

One day a pupil turned up on the rattiest CB125J I'd ever seen, but there was something familiar about it - the number plate. I had owned it two years back, before losing my mind and swapping it for a Jawa 350! The mileage had gone down from 27000 to 12000 miles! The chief instructor and I recommended he dump it back on the dealer, but the bloke seemed happy enough. Takes all sorts.

I mentioned the smartasses earlier. One of the most flash rode a Suzi TS250, which he insisted on aviating on the slightest pretext. One instructor, naffed off at the lad for carving him up in town, moved the cones on our hill start test; the resulting bike tarmac interface hurting nothing. Except the guy's pride as several instructors writhed with ill-concealed mirth. Ironically enough, he went on to be one of our better teachers...

Until one Saturday night when he went back to his bad old ways. He managed to cut a wooden bench in half on his newly acquired SP370 while showing off outside his local. The couple eating chips on the seat were not amused as a mono-cycling Suzi buzz-sawed through the bench. Neither, I should imagine were the local council or his insurance company.

On my way to the scheme one Sunday morning, I noticed a young bloke morosely inspecting a nearly new and rather bent Superdream. Turned out after he had been riding it for six months, his parents insisted he get some training. Porsches were not such a common car then, he must have hit the only one in Hereford. I didn’t know what to say to the poor chap.
 

Mind you, we weren’t perfect. One of the youngest instructors, running his CB400/4 on a shoestring fitted an Avon Deathmaster to the rear. We were amused when he managed to drop it about five times in a month. He got his own back on me just after I’d taken the Stage 2 instructors exam. In a hurry to get into work I had an argument with a big Citroen, which had with malice aforethought tried to occupy my space. l had a snapped indicator, he had scraped paint. I didn't want to hang about and went away rapidly. Did I get the urine extracted next Sunday - there were four instructors in the car behind the Citroen.
 

The RAC/ACU led to a far higher standard than the ministry test, and in the 3 or 4 years I was there I can only remember two people being turned away. Then, as now, you could ride a bigger bike on L plates if it had a chair. They arrived on a Bonnie and a Tiger with chairs - we were dumbstruck. None of us had any idea what to do, as we hadn't piloted chairs. We found a neighbouring scheme that took them in, as they had an instructor versed in the black arts.
 

As the time for the various rules we now take for granted approached, there was a minor diplomatic incident arising through that supposed co-operation between our lot and the ministry. Our deputy chief took out a couple of their testers, putting them through our test - they failed miserably. When they asked why they were told without sparing any feelings.
 

When the two part test came in many of us dropped out. Having spent some years as an instructor, I didn’t fancy spending between 3 and 9 hours a week, pointing folk around cones... and an 18-year old blonde distracted me a bit, l must admit.

Bruce Enzer