Reading the editors caustic remarks about the classic scene and in particular its magazines, I feel spurred on to say my bit. Without wanting to get into a slanging match (which I've noticed the editors of many glossies seem to like), I personally stopped buying the classic mags when it struck me that nothing new was being said. Just how many times do you want an article about rebuilding a Norton box or a Triumph top end? There is little in these comics that can't be found in a manual, parts book or by speaking to the storeman of your favourite marque. Even when they show a photo of a definitive model, the postbag's alive for months afterwards from know-it-alls stating the factory routed the throttle cable over the right rocker box not the left. All those old jibes about rose tinted specs were coming true before my very eyes. The gush that runs through mast of the mags is embarrassing and reprehensible. I would say, single handed, they have been responsible for the, now, vastly inflated prices demanded for quite normal and sometimes ghastly machinery.
The scene-man is the only one that gains, not the punter, not the bod who wants to ride; just the blokes with collections. I think (to digress a bit but only to what has been mentioned before in these pages), I think the classic scene has a parallel in the housing scene, just who gains by the crazy house prices in the south, not the poor sod who has got to buy it or try to find somewhere to live. No, the only person who makes is the estate agent, the person who fixes the price of the house because 23% of fifty grand is worth a lot more than 23% of thirty thousand. It's all down to how much money you can squeeze out of people. How much more?
The days of finding an old banger in your neighbours shed are gone, it's been sold ten times.in the last fifteen years and had as many miles put on it. In the early seventies Royce Creasey wrote an article for Bike magazine, proposing a list of machines and attitudes that would get you mobile for the kind of money you could save on the dole, and if you could get a bit more than that together then you could do it with a certain style. It was a seminal article, at a time when the Japs were digging their heels in, the Italians were moving in with their big exotica and, well, the Brits had blown it (sorry). Prices would never be the same again, (are they ever?). His idea was simple, you didn't need to spend two ‘thousand notes (write four for '87) to enjoy some of the best biking in the world. His discourse certainly prompted me into buying a rigid frame 1949 BSA A10, There was no crap about this machine, it was noisy, smelly and a little bit dirty, it wouldn't cruise all day at seventy on a whiff of throttle (and no-one said it would), but by god it was the most rugged reliable, and (most importantly) the cheapest bike I've ever owned.
In the nine months I rode it, it never, I repeat never, let me down. A record for me. I bought nothing for it except petrol and oil (no, it. didn't leak). It cost me nothing to run. It didn't handle, or anything civilized like that well, it couldn't really, not with a floppy 'rigid' rear end and BSA's famous pogo front forks. Pulling away in anything resembling a hurry made it try to impersonate a space shuttle take off (except no bits of the BSA fell off). Maintenance was basically simple but there were a few traps for the unwary. Out of curiosity, not necessity you understand, one day I decided to clean my magneto slip-ring.Wrapping a rag over my finger, I took the brush out, stuck my finger in the hole and turned the engine over, receiving a massive bolt of electricity up my arm and a finger jammed between slip-ring and casing. I can tell you I felt pretty silly sitting there waiting for a friendly passer-by to set me free. Note, you take the timing case off and turn the magneto gear anti clockwise.
The BSA was swapped for a SR500, which was one of those silly mistakes we all make from time to time. The UMG's quest for the 120mph, 80mpg, simple, rugged and cheap motorcycle will probably go on, but we shouldn't forget that back there are some machines that have a few useful qualities. Unfortunately, we won't find the clues to their whereabouts in the glossy tripe of the classic mags. We may find them in the UMG...
Robert Garnham