Motorcycle contact over a lifetime.

[pancho]

 First 'contact'. probably at about 3-4 years old.
 My old mans Harley was leaning up against the wall of the old weatherboard house at Fairfield, I stood on the running board with the result that it came down on top of me, fuel tank resting gently on my chest. Thankfully it had crash-bars otherwise this story would be short.
 Next memory was sitting on the seat of another Harley [with sidecar] and noticing
a little lever poking out of the top of the tank. Naturally I gave it a prod.
 The result of that action was that a plunger popped up which obviously need to be pushed back again to restore the integrity of the unit and hide the evidence of the interference.
 Temptation got the better of me and naturally I felt the need to do it again.
Several times in fact.
 After some time pop came out, jumped on this noisy monster and kicked it into life with a resultant massive cloud of blue smoke filling the rented quarter acre block.
 Next this booming voice came from his 14 stone 6'4" frame "you bloody kids have been pumping that oil primer again".
 
 I was totally mystified!     How did he know??

 To be continued.

[pancho]

 Next contact. A few years later, I was about 9.
 Pop says 'jump in the sidecar, I have to go and see the battery man.' It was another Harley, a later model one that he was working on for some one.
 It could have been the outfit owned by a bloke named Mr Laurence, that took speedway photos back then [because I remember Pop taught him how to ride an
out-fit.]
 Any how that was the most spectacular experience, my eyes must have been as big as saucers, as sitting inside this nice Murphy side car hurtling around Fairfield streets with seemingly nothing in front of the windscreen was something never to be forgotten, especially since the sidecar wheel was in the air on every corner ,right or left!
 cheers pancho.
 PS Hope this isn't too boring, I'm doin' it anahow unless Graeme stops me!
 

[steveo247]

keep going mate sounds great!

[mick25]

ha ha good ones there pancho
mine was when i was six years old siting in a dragster and while siting there found a button under the seat and gave it a push it was the starter
fired her up scared the shit out of me

[Curly3]

I love it when you get all misty eyed Wally.
Go for it.

[smed]

Yeah, keep em coming pancho, Stories of days gone by & the experiences we had are priceless

[JAP 454]

Great stuff, Wal,
Ya got me thinkin' about the time , I was four or five or there-abouts , me Da used to cart me around the back roads of England , going to fishing spots, on a 500 Red Hunter, he showed me how to warm me hands and gloves on the cylinder barrel , pulled into a country pub fozen stiff, got a cuppa with " something " in it for that one , loved the sound of that single.

Later on he got a Square Four, with a DA chair fitted, we lived not far from the Ariel factory in Selly Oak, me Mam and sister in the chair, me on the pillion, past a farmhouse, mob of chooks in the road, one gets caught between the chair and bike , the Old Man reached down, wrung its neck, threw it in the chair shouting " Dinner", dropped the Squaffer down a cog and legged it !!
Foss

[Curly3]

Maybe we should have a section for Nostalgia.
Foss, Punchy, Firko and several other forum members I'm sure, are our, "Tribal Elders".
If we don't discuss how things were in years gone by, then forget it.
One of my favourite stories, told to me by one of my Motorcycling Hero's, Les Burdus is a pretty simple story really.
I don't recall what bike he was riding but he had a bike that was his every day ride, to & from work etc, that he raced at track's around Syd, like Mt Druitt, Vineyards and others.
He'd remove the lights and ride out to the track early on a Sunday morning with a tobacco tin in his top pocket with bigger jet's inside, change the jetting, race all day, change the jetting back & ride home in the dark, no lights.
The way it was, love it.
Imagine trying to get away with that sort of thing today.

[Mike52]

All the generation before me raced something.
Used to sit in the uncles Riley Sprite hillclimb car and dads racing KTT Velo when I was a kid.
Made my first bike at about 12 using a pushy and a villiers out of the old motor mower.
Went on to own just about every make and type thru the years.
Anything with 2/4 wheels and a motor will get me interested.
Guy here in a Suzuki Mighty Boy yesterday.
Could use one of those I rekon 

[JAP 454]

Y'know , Slides, your yarn about Les reminds me of the late Roy Dennison, he was one of our old bike group, Roy Roy the Racing Boy was his nickname, in the very late '60s he used to ride his single Ducati to Oran Park from Miranda , leathers on , megga strapped on the back, as you say, tin of jets plus front number plate  in his back pack, lights taped up, side race number plates fitted , ACU had a fit about that, race all day and ride it home until, one day, the Duke came home in a ute, Roy asked me to have a look at it, lifted the head, told Roy that he didn't REALLY want to see inside !!
Foss

[pancho]

 Thanks for the interest fellers and hope we see plenty  more old 'old timers ramblings' on here. Foss, liked your bit about the old days in the old dart,               Unfortunately I didn't get much of that sort of thing from my ol' man as he wasn't home much and moved out of our lives when I was about ten.
 Being a major petrol head that he was, [my brother and I inherited that trait] I feel I missed out on a lot of experiences and knowledge that I could have had.
 Things were pretty tough late '40s early '50s for a mother raising three kids with precious little support.
 Not complaining, learnt a lot about life on the way with good experiences and good friends.
 
 cheers pancho

[Nathan S]

My first ride on a bike came after my dad was one number off on Lotto, and he won $1000 as a consolation price - he bought a 1984 Honda ATC125.
My first ride on a two-wheeled bike was a yellow Z50. Got a vine caught around a foot peg and crashed.

[pancho]

 #3
  About 1951 myself,1 yr younger brother, and pop went to live in Brisbane after a failed family reunion [another story] where he started a car repair business on the old Stanley st. wharf, at about 14/15yrs old  we helped out in this workshop . First lesson was if you drop a spanner or a nut it went straight through the cracks and into the Brisbane river.
 Anyhow pop's mate had an army Beeza with a crook piston so it had the barrell ripped of it and a piston from a side valve Ford V8 from the wrecker was fitted.
I remember it had a slight dome on the crown which pop said would raise the comp a bit and make it go better. My first hot-up lesson.
 This old BSA gave me and my brother our first experience at riding a m/cycle.
I remember how easy it was to learn on that bike. These frames were pretty long wheelbase which made them very easy handling. Consequently we drove the other small business people using these small warehouses crazy pretty soon.
 In later times I remember, I think it was Fairfield MCC that set up a few of these army Beezas as club bikes for new members to learn to race short circuit.
 
 cheers pancho.

[pancho]

 #4.                                                                                                               About 1952 my cousin Jim who worked at Superb Cycles in Parramatta bought a new AJS 500 twin, and took me for a ride around the back of Smithfield on what was the road before Cumberland Hway took over, being about 14 and pretty cool on my old SJH pushbike I was pretty comfortable on the back of the luxurious dual seat. However I noticed we were headed for this monster pot hole that Fairfield council left in situ to let you know that you were in there municipality. I froze in anticipation of being catapoulted onto my bum, but I was amazed that the marvelous [for those days] jampot swinging arm suspension glided straight through no drama.
 Consequently my first road bike was a '52 AJay. This one was the 500 single.[ all of 23 hp] I bought it with my deferred pay from the Nashos. Second hand of course. cheers pancho.
 Righto who's next.
 

[pancho]

#5
 My school friend 'Brownie' bought a rigid 250 BSA [C11] off his brother and I said 'you must be mad, motor bikes are bloody dangerous'.
 A line of thinking drummed into me and my brother from our mum frequently stating "if you kids get a motor bike I'll chop it up with an axe"
 This coming from the person who had spent a lot of her late teens on the pillion seat behind a major petrol-head. [our dad].
 Any how I consequently fell off this C11 riding 'round our little backyard at Villawood.
[no comment about housos please].
 After I recovered from getting the palm of my hand stiched up I thought to myself 'I must get myself a motorbike'
 cheers pancho.