A bevvy of moto-riding ladies all sitting proudly on their bikes in front of this House of Chrome somewhere on Long Island NY. Left to right: Beemer, Trumpet, Harley, Beeza(?), Ariel & Matchless. What’s not to like?
March 22, 2014
You say tires I say tyres…
The original tire was a heated steel hoop quench-shrunk onto the wooden wheel. The anglicized tyre was a 20thC spelling only used in Britain. Tire is the standard spelling. Scotsman John Dunlop invented the rubber pneumatic tire, further developed with galvanizing by Charles Goodyear. Now my Cub wheels are shod with lightly knobbled trials boots. Something complete for the project!
March 21, 2014
If you shout loud enough… You’ll get a little hearse!
What better way for the conveyance of a casket for a motorcyclist that a hearse combination. Motorcycle Funerals have just that outfit with glass surrounded car being driven along by a appropriate 900cc Triumph Adventurer.
A handsome thing giving dignity to the departed.
..and a wreath for memorial? We have just the ticket for you sir… Poppy red Bonneville.
And a reading….
The Soldier by Rupert Brooke written in 1914
If I should die, think only this of me:
That there’s some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England.
There shall be in that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England’s, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.
And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.
This was of course written at the onset of that hideous war and before the loss of innocence of a country, continent and world. But it’s a fine poem nonetheless.
An aside note: Chicago, IL once operated 3 different funeral trolley cars over the elevated tracks in downtown Chicago to outlying cemeteries in the western suburbs. A special funeral bureau handled the funeral trains which sometimes operated 3-4 funeral trains a week over the ‘L’. Me? I’ll pick the motorcycle any day!
March 19, 2014
Bud
I picked up my cylinder head and barrel today from The Machine Shop, a little hidden gem in Rogers Park where Bud Clements works his time honored magic on engine parts old, new, common and esoteric. He rebored the cylinder to receive the new 60 over piston and cleaned, set new guides, and lapped seats for a pair of valves too. He knows his stuff down to the micron.
The great convergence is upon us!
March 11, 2014
Jenny Wren
The Women’s Royal Navy Service was an auxiliary group to support the naval arm during WWII. They took over land based tasks so that all able bodied men could be aboard ship. “Become a Wren – Free up a man for the Fleet!”
One duty was as dispatch riders ensuring secure document communication could be maintained between the Admiralty, its harbored fleet and the Commanding Chiefs if Staff in London.
Here’s one such dicky bird on her Triumph at work with courier satchel. They carried out a crucial role especially during the Battle of Britain when keen motorcycling skills through the bombed streets of the capital were key to the success of the countries defense.
Buckingham Palace acts as a backdrop as this lass kicks over the very capable 3H single cylinder 350. Which were a bargain in 1938…
Here’s one of those enlisting posters…
Very smart they looked in their uniforms too: double breasted suit with tricorne hat.
“Hoist up the Union Jack lads!”
March 6, 2014
Pup rides along too…
Nancy Debenham, with pet hound Poncho sitting on the tank, wheels along happily in this late twenties photograph. Along with her sister Betty she paved the way for young ladies newly empowered with the equal voting age act with their 1928 book ‘Motorcycling for Women’. Reflecting a golden period when motorcycles outnumbered cars and anyone barely school leaving age could ride a motorcycle, these attractive, adventurous, mechanically minded young ladies who thoroughly enjoyed all aspects of two-wheeled transport the sisters became poster girls for motorcycling on road as well as racetrack. Nancy won a Gold Medal at Brooklands Racetrack in 1926. They were often accompanied on their journeys by their mischievous dog Poncho who would stowaway in the sidecars.
In an article penned for Cars & Motorcycles Magazine in 1927 the opening paragraph states: “Motor-cycling is becoming more and more popular amongst women, but there are still many timid souls who hesitate to take the first step to this freedom which so many of us enjoy. This seems all the more sad when we consider that no girl that we have ever met who has once sampled the joys of motor-cycling willingly has given it up”. Way ahead of their time!
February 28, 2014
Friday Jump
With the momentum of Monday through Friday the weekend is sometimes achieved airborne. Hope the landing on Saturday morning is a soft one… Well at least head on pillow for a bit longer followed by a relaxing cup of tea…
February 27, 2014
to look for America
” A journey is a person in itself; no two are alike. And all plans, safeguards, policing, and coercion are fruitless. We find that after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us.”
John Steinbeck (born 112 years ago today)
Steinbeck wrote of the ‘open road’ and the journey of life people made along its way. His muse was America and a colorful time in her history during the Depression; the roads were dusty, the workers dustier but the pulse keen. In his latter years he took to the highways and byways to see the state of the Union; with a trusty poodle companion named Charley by his side, and a pickup camper as his wheels and abide both.
Rocinante he named his conveyance, after the man from la Mancha’s steed, and a Quixotic journey was made in 1960 to see with his own eyes how the country was faring.
A cozy spot to journey from, free of fuss and possession. A mobile hermits cabin to journey unencumbered. It has the air of a motorcycle traveler who needs to be lightfooted ready to follow the unknown road ahead. I could see a younger Steinbeck taking a motorcycle combination on such a journey with pup passenger in the chair rambling along the old Routes from dusty town to dusty town on an Indian or Harley.
The venture could easily be adapted into a modern exploration of the country, keeping to smaller local routes, allowing time to absorb the immediate realm.
A bit too sedate… Though nice for an outing to the vintage rally… Parasol, flat-cap and plus-fours speed!
Here we go! Rocinante II
“Pack our bags Honey! We’re off exploring!”
February 26, 2014
Of Rod and Reel
“Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world’s great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.
I am haunted by waters.”
Norman Maclean
Watching a trials moto negotiate a wet stream reminds me of a fly fisherman reading the waters of a trout plump river. A tremendous book utilizing a thread of the anglers life connecting a man and his brothers story growing up in the cool tree lined canyons of Montana. It is Maclean’s ‘A river runs through it’. A quick read but worth savoring its exquisite language that rolls softly off the page.
…it’s our pal Ewan McGregor! True Scot, and motorcyclist, fly fishing in the Yemen…
..perhaps The Triumph fly lure is needed:
February 23, 2014
Tiger Trials: of mud, stone, grass, log & stream
George Greenland in 1958 at an XHG Tigers event, the Priory Trophy trial, riding Des Smallshaw’s very tidy Tiger Cub special. The XHG were dispatch riders from the 7th Hants Home Guard and the tiger Club formed in 1945 and are still going strong. Hampshire being on the south coast would have been very busy during the war years and I’m sure there were plenty of DR riders haring to and fro along the country lanes back then.
February 22, 2014
My Heart is in the Highlands
Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,
The birth-place of Valour, the country of Worth;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.
Chorus.-My heart’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
My heart’s in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer;
Chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe,
My heart’s in the Highlands, wherever I go.
Farewell to the mountains, high-cover’d with snow,
Farewell to the straths and green vallies below;
Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods,
Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods.
Robert Burns (1759-1796)
Ray Sayer on Loch Eilde Path in 1959. What a stunning photograph with Loch Leven beyond, Kinlochleven below and the magnificent Aonach Eagach ridge overlooking to the south.
February 20, 2014
ISDT ’64
Fifty Years Ago…
Photo of USA Team Triumph Riders #278 – Steve McQueen and #276 – Cliff Coleman at the International Six Day Trials. Usually this event is seen in black and white but these images in living Kodachrome give this a vigor that feels younger than the half century of time passed. The Triumph Trophy #278 itself is at Johnson Motors in California.
Here’s the bike post trials… All photos by François Gragnon
February 11, 2014
Boys
A fairground ride to excite any young lad dreaming of speed and adventure on two wheels. They appear to be miniature Beemers so this could be a German attraction. Intent riders and smiles galore nonetheless.
geordiebiker.com 