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Which motorbike?


thealphabeta

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Most of my friends ride a 600 hornet, fazer or bandit. I think the SV is definately a nice bike to learn on so thanks for the advice.

Any time. If you don't go for your direct access, you can get a 33BHP kit for the SV to make it 'just passed test' legal.

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If I may, allow my bit of advice?

To really stir the knickers you want a Vespa. Then take it to Jay Leno for his turbine power upgrade (hello dear Jay, this is your transparent advertising plug).

Whoosh whoosh! :winkiss:

Many a true word spoken in jest...

In my youth, duruing a brief incarnation as a mod, I rode a Lambretta LD. That was the model with twin sprung saddles. It was old, knackered and vibrated a great deal... but it was considered cool and got me around.

It was also the era of mini-skirts and no helmet laws... so should you meet a nice lady at the pub or at a party, you could offer her a ride home.

Of course her skirt might ride up a bit as she got astride the machine...

The pillion saddle on My LD had a short length of fairly thick rope inserted under the cover, running from front to back.

That certainly seemed to stir the knickers... and no mistake!

Ah! Happy days.... :lol:

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This probably isn't an option for you, but if it is, I would give serious consideration to buying a Harley, even second hand. More power than you'll ever need, and a "wow factor" that's off the scale.

Les

Les - Harleys look the [censored] and sound like nothing else - but they really aren't much use over here. Our roads - at least the interesting ones - have windy, bendy bits.

There is nothing sadder than watching a proud Harley Sportster rider threpenny-bitting it around the corners, whilst a 250cc 1964 Royal Enfield Continental GT thrashes past him on the inside of the bend.

Unless you are riding the 250. Yes, it was me on the GT :lol:

53905-35793.jpg

No, you need something a bit more nimble on English roads.

I'd suggest a Triumph. A Bonnevile - 650cc for preference. The pre-unit has more style...

53905-35794.gif

... but the 750cc oil-in-frame version is affordable, spares are easy and unlike a kwakahondazuki, when it breaks, you can mend it with a hammer.

53905-35795.jpg

Of course, he'll spend every Saturday morning ajusting his valve clearances... but that is all part of the fun.

Edited by Highflyingclive
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Les - Harleys look the [censored] and sound like nothing else - but they really aren't much use over here. Our roads - at least the interesting ones - have windy, bendy bits.

There is nothing sadder than watching a proud Harley Sportster rider threpenny-bitting it around the corners, whilst a 250cc 1964 Royal Enfield Continental GT thrashes past him on the inside of the bend.

Unless you are riding the 250. Yes, it was me on the GT :lol:

Hahahaha... Highflyingclive, I know EXACTLY what you mean! I went to college in the UK (Devon 1961-1963). You don't have to tell me about them windy roads, just wide enough for one car and half a person. I cut my teeth on the great British motorcycles flying down hedge-lined Devon lanes, Triumph, Norton, Matchless, Vincent, BSA... need i go on???

And while you were busy being a mod in your suits and skinny ties and mirrors on your scooters, I was hanging out at the Cafés with the Rockers, wearing black leather and doing "the ton".

GOD... where did those years go????

Les

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Highflyingclive...

Here's smile for you. Sorry about the quality... (photography had only just been invented - hahaha)

(Yes, the old geezer above and the young dude here are both me, a little less hair and a little more middle!)

Devon 1962 - BSA 250

55372-35590.jpg

Les

Edited by Les Center
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I asume you was hauling pussy, like no tomorrow on that bike!

Highflyingclive...

Here's smile for you. Sorry about the quality... (photography had only just been invented - hahaha)

(Yes, the old geezer above and the young dude here are both me, a little less hair and a little more middle!)

Devon 1962 - BSA 250

55405-35566.jpg

Les

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Highflyingclive...

Here's smile for you. Sorry about the quality... (photography had only just been invented - hahaha)

(Yes, the old geezer above and the young dude here are both me, a little less hair and a little more middle!)

Devon 1962 - BSA 250

Les

Sorry, Les,

That a girl's bike.

It has teles on the front... can't see the back but I suspect the worst... bet it has (gasp...) plungers.

I have a 1947 BSA M21... girder forks and solid rear end. Like this 1949 model, only in black... and in much scruffier condition. One previous owner from new!

55429-35563.jpg

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Sorry, Les,

That a girl's bike.

Ooooooo, that's cruel... That must be the Mod in you coming out! :bicycle:

It has teles on the front... can't see the back but I suspect the worst... bet it has (gasp...) plungers.

So I don't suppose the later Triumph Bonneville, Norton Commander or Vincint Black Shadow make up for that Huh??? :o

Les

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Just teasing, Les,

I soon discovered that scooters and corners don't mix... swapped my ankle-hangers for drainpipes and became a greaser.

Current collection:

1947 BSA M21.

1960 Triumph Trophy TR6. Pre-unit, duplex frame "off-road" bike. Basicly a single-carb Bonnie , factory fitted with [censored]bly tyres and high-level siamese exhaust. My, they had a sense of humour in the Triumph factory in those days...:-)

1964 Royal Enfield Continental GT (the bike I wanted when I was sixteen... I got one, but I had to wait until I was thirty-six).

1980 Truiumph T140 "Harris" Bonneville.

... and a Honda VT500 that I rarely discuss...

Edited by Highflyingclive
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Since a few of us are reliving fond memories of English bikes, I can't help unabashedly recalling the 15 minutes of fame that were mine in lower Manhattan during the late 60s - thanks to a very special BSA 250.*

(*Given the following, one might think that I was talking about a Norton Atlas or a 750 Bonneville, but strange at it may seem, the road conditions evoked by Les and Clive ("windy roads, just wide enough for one car and half a person") were pretty the same as those you encounterd South of 14th Street, which was my turf at the time in NYC. Pedestrians, double-parked trucks and cars, everyone weaving this way and that: at 40 miles an hour with everything whizzing past within a few feet on either side of you, you might have just as well been on a hedge lined lane in Devon, and a damn sight safer, as well. Even pushing it above 60mph on the long, straight avenues further Uptown was tempting fate. The valiant little 250 was all the horsepower I needed in Manhattan - anything more would have been overkill - in the full sense of the word). Anyhow....

The story begins on a weekend of shunpiking with a friend in rural Pennsylvania, during which I fell upon, instantly fell in love with, and purchased a single-cylinder BSA from a dealer who had set it up as a dirt track racing bike. After breaking several of his bones during one of the first runs, he decided to sell it while he was still ahead of the game, which is to say, before he broke the rest.

His loss was my gain. In terms of looks, it was a flawless bike: [censored]by tires, brushed aluminium tank and fenders, a chromed teardrop headlight and a no-nonsense rear brakelight which had been added on to make it street legal.

Even standing still, it looked like it was already in motion.

The dealer had modded the engine in the ways only real mechanics can - valves had been ground, the exhaust manifold enlarged, the piston swapped for a more energy-efficient configuration, the ignition system tweaked, and I don't know what else. I'm no mechanic, and frankly, I didn't really care, since it was the sheer beauty of the bike that won me over. All I asked for beyond that was that it be capable of moving the way it looked, which is to say like the most sublimely beautiful bike I had ever seen.

I drove it back to Manhattan in an unexpected freak blizzard and nearly froze to death on the way. As soon as I hit the city, I got stopped by the police, who oblivious to my near-terminal state of hypothermia, only wanted to know what it was I was riding. They had never seen anything like it before. Harleys, Triumphs, Hondas and what-have-you, yes, but never the incredible silver wraith whose well-tuned music belied the modest 250cc powerplant that was propelling it.

The incident with the NYPD was just the first of many. People would lean out of their car windows at stoplights and ask what i was riding and where I got it. Pedestrians would slow down and watch me (the bike, of course) fly past. As far as I know, there was nothing else like it in Manhanttan.

But the strangest thing about it all was how uncomfortable I began to feel on something that was such an object of fascination and attention. The first few weeks, it was flattering, but it soon became embarassing: I couldn't go anywhere without people (italics) looking at me. That, and the constant fine-tuning necessary to keep the highly-strung motor singing on key - like I said, I'm no mechanic - impelled me to part ways with it.

I had no trouble selling it, and for the same price as I originally paid some eight or nine months earlier. The strange thing is that I haven't the slightest recollection of who I sold it to: something in me has blocked it out or erased it. It was certainly more than a bike that I parted ways with that day - it was a portion of my glory days in the incredible playground of New York that disappeared with it.

The thumbnail image gives a ephemeral and fleeting remembrance of things past. All that remains are the memories and the distinctive, unforgettable odor of petrol and hot Castrol wafting up as I sped down the streets of my youth in lower Manhattan..

post-55-1148659461_thumb.jpg

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Yes - the attentions of the great unwashed can be troublesome.

I remenber a sunny Sunday when I took my lady off through the Buckinghamshire lanes on my Royal Enfield Continental GT... eventually we stopped at a country pub for lunch.. naturally I parked the pretty 250 in the sunshine so all could admire her at her best.

There were families in the pub garden.. of course, some snotty kid dragged his dad over to my bike so he could have a closer look.

"Royal Enfield" said his dad, "That's where the Queen keeps her chickens"

I let him live...

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Great story ryyannon, thanks for sharing that.

"Royal Enfield" said his dad, "That's where the Queen keeps her chickens"

I let him live...

I'm quite sure I couldn't have been that kind!!! :bangin:

Les

Edited by Les Center
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