On 21/01/2022 at 14.36 my father passed away. He was 79 years old, born in 1942. This is a small biking based obituary and tribute to his life as a biker.
Obituary
Father was a biker in his younger years, but never did get back into it after family life expanded. Unlike myself who’s owned a motorcycle all of my adult life.
Childhood memories of him and his motorcycles are quite clear despite the amount of time that’s passed. I also recall his adventures from when he was a single man in Cornwall (where he was born), when he’d share his fond memories of those golden years.
When not riding motorcycles with his close friend David, they would be out carousing in Falmouth, much to the annoyance of the locals and his father! Always up to mischief. Memories of innocent school age swimming in the sea at Custom House Quay, to the nonsenses of teenage boys living an hedonistic life to the full.
Bsa bantam 125cc
His first bike was a BSA Bantam 125cc in 1960. No surprises there given the ubiquity of those amazing lightweight roadsters. The road to freedom was his then, as it is for us now. Cornwall in the late 1950’s travelling was much easier as a biker.
Dad’s first motorcycle. He loved this British classic, and would often recall fondly of those adventures through the beautiful landscape of Cornwall on his beloved Bantam…
He preferred having his own transport as do we all. But it was a liberating moment in time for him, as he’d not really left Falmouth his life through.
Finding gainful employment was tough for him back then, but once secured he bought the ‘bike and enjoyed his travels with a close friend through the county.
The bike was bombproof! It was a well made bike. Dad was a big fan of the BSA brand, and their motorcycles.
Heinkel 175cc Tourist
Dad’s Heinkel Tourist was a blue one – this is the late 60’s by now… . I always remembered the distinctive noise it made as a young child.
The looks were very distinctive and original when compared to the Italian marques.
Commuting was done easily, and dad always liked this scooter, but yearned for a bit more power…
Unfortunately its reliability was a bit temperamental, but in the main dad loved its ‘character’.
The mechanicals were a cause of concern for dad, as he worked shifts which included nights, so breaking down was not ideal.
I love these period brochures and similar ephemera.
Lambretta gp200
Dad added a few accessories to his scooter. The de rigueur checker board rear mud flap, chrome rack which also doubled to carry a spare wheel, and a few other minor bits. Just useful stuff.
It was a nice scooter to be fair, and it had a fair turn of speed (for the time). Dad always liked the simplicity of the Lambretta. It was a reliable machine for him. It was small and easy to move around, plus dad could park it easier at his place of work than a car (allocated parking).
Dad acquired his GP200 in 1968. I remembered the distinctive colour (as per the image), the stripe, and no less the unique two stroke smell!
It had a soundtrack of its own. Nothing outrageous, but the single cylinder two stroke noise was unforgettable. Wonderful…
Even as a very young child, dad got me a helmet, and I rode on the back of it. Not often, just around the block, but my love for two strokes grew from there.
In my case, I passed my motorcycle test on an RD250LC, then traded up for an RD350LC straight afterward – they themselves are the stuff of biking legend now, and make me feel old. They were amazingly good fun though.
Dad loved his Lambretta, but it was blatantly obvious that it only suited him as a solo rider. Mostly for commuting as per the Heinkel. So keeping it was unrealistic in almost every sense.
BSA Goldstar 650 and sidecar
With the birth of my sister came the need for family oriented transport, as well as a new place to live. As dad didn’t have a licence to drive a car at that time, only a full motorcycle licence, the only option open to him was a “motorcycle combination”, as in a motorcycle and sidecar.
I don’t recall the exact year when dad bought the outfit, but it was around 1969/1970.
The ride as a sidecar passenger was interesting to say the least! It was a tad over sprung, so lots of jolts and bouncing around! Haha…
Mum only agreed to this as family transportation on the grounds of costs vs. a car.
The BSA performed very well, and for the most part was reliable, but needed lots of “fettling”.
It’s a good job that mum wasn’t tall (dad wasn’t tall either, unlike myself), else she’d have never fitted inside the sidecar. The door aperture for the sidecar was small. Not impossible to enter, just use some caution needed to save embarrassment.
The combination took us on camping holidays to Norfolk, and many a day trip in between too. Amazing really considering the space available. I had to ride pillion with dad on the bike later-on, as there was no room for my sister who was only a toddler at that time – as in the two of us sharing the rear passenger seat.
So my sister sat on the lap of mum, and the space behind was requisitioned for luggage usage. That dynamic worked well, but my sister wasn’t too thrilled at riding behind mum, and mum wasn’t too thrilled with her on her lap as she got bigger.
It served the family well for approximately 5 years before dad had to succumb to the realisation that kids grow, whilst sidecars do not. This was effectively the end of dads motorcycling days sadly.
Biking dreams and aspirations
Dad was no different to any other biker. He had a good few biking mates he rolled with, I met most of them along the way too. Most were enthusiasts no different to us today. Some were speed freaks, chasing the impossible on the A406, scaring themselves silly on a Café racer – as in the Ace Café – for adrenaline fuelled high jinks. Others were more mindful and rode more ‘carefully’ shall we say.
But all were united in their friendship, and their passion for the two wheelers they owned. All of them working for the same company made their bond closer. They were great friends for sure.
Dad always fantasized about owning a Vincent Black Shadow, Brough Superior or Ariel Square Four – all of which were unattainable on his budget. He also liked the Norton Commando and the Triumph Bonneville too. They were attainable, but not alongside a car: which was always going to end in the reluctant acceptance of having to hang his leather jacket up for the final time…
Inspiration to me
Dad and his love of motorcycles definitely inspired me. From the hedonistic days of speed and adventure as a small boy, the smell of a two stroke sparking into life, they inspired my interest and yearning for the day when I could own my own.
I owe dad a debt of gratitude, as without his fervour I’d have probably not taken as much of an interest as I did. I always wished that I was a little bit older (like most kids), so as to have been able to participate more as a pillion – but that said, I had my own helmet and jacket, so I was always grateful to dad for all those fantastic memories he shared with me.
When I was 15, a close friend of dad offered me lift on the back of his brand new BMW R100RS, for a week long holiday in Norfolk with some others and Dad. What a blast that bike was!
From the city to the Norfolk coast. The boxer twin was novelty to me at that time, as I’d not really taken much notice of them. The poster on the bedroom wall was a Honda CBX1000 six cylinder. But the distinctive noise, and torquey delivery were impressive – even to one with no knowledge of such things. It felt fast…
The chap that owned it was an Anglo-Indian called Alan, with a strong Indian accent which I loved – he was a great bloke, he really was. So funny he was too. A genuinely warm and charming man. He could ride that bike, and ride it well. RIP Alan.
Thanks dad for all the memories. You inspired me on my biking journey, which has been a life long love affair – thanks to you. Ride off into the sunset for the final time…
Farewell dad…