Chat 18
The answer to Chat 17 four picture quiz. The link is TEA. Correct answers from:- Pat Robotham (He once lived briefly on a tea plantation so knew what the plants look like), Kath and Walter Partington, Don Eades, Kath and Don Sales, Malcolm Bridges..
1. Tea Caddy. 2. Tea Clipper. 3. Boston Tea Party. Tea plant tip.
			



The piston quiz will run for a few Chat 
			editions with 
			an extra clue each time.  What is this piston from?  
			The 
			first clue was:-  It is not from a bike engine, it is from a car.  
			The new clue is:-  Blue oval/water crossing 
			the road put some money into early development but that is not the 
			answer. Eddy
			 Answers by email to: 			
			
			edgrew@virginmedia.com
  Answers by email to: 			
			
			edgrew@virginmedia.com
Here is the new picture quiz for Chat 18. What is the link to these two pictures? Answers by email to: edgrew@virginmedia.com
			 
			
Part One of John Grew's first bike and what came next:-
“I’m 
			Pickin’ Up Good Vibrations”
The ‘Beach Boys’ 
			released their single Good Vibrations in October 1966. I believe 
			motorcycling is a visceral experience, well it is for me, and my 
			‘guts’ were indeed pickin’ up good vibrations. The motorcycling bug 
			had well and truly bitten.
Three of my mates and I pooled our paper 
			round money and purchased two old 125 BSA Bantams in the early 
			sixties. Although we were young teens, we had just enough mechanical 
			knowledge to get them running and enough pluck to ask a farmer on 
			the outskirts of Ashby if we could use his “spare” muddy field as 
			our race track. To our surprise he agreed, and we laid out a course 
			with jumps and bumps.  A 
			mix of bald tyres and slimy mud sure did teach us how to ride a 
			motorbike, albeit a 125 Bantam!
			
			John 
			tackles one of the “jumps and bumps” on the Bantam
Teenagers are often labelled as rebellious 
			and sometimes destructive, but we felt that we weren’t doing anybody 
			any harm apart from the sound pollution from the degutted silencers. 
			Youngsters always equate more sound to more speed and we were no 
			exception. Some of our “racing” often stretched into late evening 
			and this was nearly our undoing because our field backed onto a 
			council housing estate.
			  
			
			Mates Phil and Steve race around the field - 
			note the council houses in the background
One 
			evening we spotted a darkly clothed figure approaching us across the 
			field. It was the local policeman. “Now then lads, we have had 
			complaints from the tenants that you are making a noise in the 
			evenings”. We responded that we weren’t doing anything wrong apart 
			from the noise, and at least we weren’t smashing up telephone boxes 
			like some of our bored peers. “Good point, so carry on regardless, 
			but don’t race around after 8 pm”. We couldn’t believe our luck!
The wonderful watershed age of 
			16 was now approaching and my thoughts turned to acquiring my first 
			real road bike. My paper round money was redirected from buying 
			petrol and two stroke oil for the Bantams, and I accumulated circa 
			£20 that would eventually purchase a second hand Triumph Tiger Cub 
			from Pook’s of Thurmaston. 
I de-coked the Cub with the help 
			of my dear brother Eddy and the bike was waiting to be ridden for 
			the first time at the end of the school day on my 16th 
			birthday. I could only just afford to buy a crash helmet, so there 
			was no money for luxuries like a camera; hence no photograph.
I applied for my test the next 
			day and the date was in about six weeks. The test was duly passed 
			first time in Burton on Trent. I was lusting after a “big” bike, but 
			paper round money wasn’t going to buy much at all and certainly 
			nothing exotic. I’d heard on the grapevine of a 350 Matchless for 
			sale that was very cheap, so leapt at the chance and a few quid had 
			the 1957 G3LS in my hands. This typically unloved and neglected 
			Matchless had no mudguards and required some TLC to get her running 
			anything like, but I had my first “big” bike.
			 
			
			First ride on the G3LS with alloy guards and 
			typical ‘bulb’ horn
Just a reminder that the 
			Swinging 60’s not only offered “free love”, but also ushered in the 
			dominance of the Japanese motorcycle industry. There were hundreds, 
			if not thousands, of unloved and neglected British motorbikes about, 
			just like my Matchy.
This was proven time and time again whenever 
			I parked up my G3 in a populated spot. “Ay up lad, I’ve got one a 
			them in me shed, you can have it for five quid. In fact, if you pick 
			it up straight away you can have it for nowt”. This occurred 
			frequently. I took up all similar offers and ended up with a rented 
			double garage full of A.J.S and Matchless motorbikes of all 
			descriptions. If only I still had them all!
My cache of all things AMC 
			provided the G3 with some original mudguards and a few other bits 
			that turned it into respectable order. The cache also gradually gave 
			me the experience of riding virtually every post war AMC model that 
			came out of Plumstead. There were twins and singles of all 
			capacities that were gradually made road worthy, although none of 
			them were ever in concours condition; a trait I still have! A few 
			other local Matchless owners and I got together and started a 
			section of the AJS and Matchless Owners Club that is still thriving 
			today.
I had signed up for an 
			engineering apprenticeship and now my income was a bit higher than 
			paper round money. This facilitated the purchase of a 1963 650 twin 
			that was in nice roadworthy condition from a shop in Brum. I thought 
			that I had gleaned enough AMC knowledge to tackle any shortcomings 
			in these Plumstead bikes and coughed up the hard earned cash. It was 
			in very good original condition with good brakes for its day, 12 
			volt electrics and no oil leaks. The only down side was the inherent 
			vibration when travelling at speed. The 70 MPH speed limit had been 
			introduced mid 60’s, but the lack of speed cameras years ago 
			facilitated “windows of opportunity” that one couldn’t resist. The 
			G12 would cruise at 80 plus with ease, but the vibration was 
			terrible, especially through the handlebars. If you took your left 
			hand off the bar the clutch lever was a blur at 85.
Around this time brother Eddy 
			had a bit of “disposable income” and bought a new Norton Commando 
			750. He let me have a go on his new bike and this is when I had the 
			epiphany. That first ride on the Commando was unbelievable. Seventy 
			MPH and NO vibration, then 80, then 90. Is this magic? Although the 
			Matchy twin was good overall, the lack of vibes on the Norton was a 
			revelation. I had to have one! I sold some AMC bits and part 
			exchanged the twin for a new 1972 Commando Interstate; my first new 
			bike. Now I was “pickin’ up no 
			vibrations”, and very nice too! 
			 
			
			Typical Norton Commando 750 Interstate
I liked my Commando with its low 
			down torque and mine handled well, despite some people having 
			misgivings about the ‘isolastic’ frame design. Eddy and I kept a 
			close eye on our isolastic bushes and adjusted them accordingly at 
			regular intervals. However, my love affair with the Norton was 
			gradually tarnished by poor build quality. The Commando frame 
			concept was an instant fix for the vibes and the bikes sold well. I 
			seem to remember that the Commando won MCN’s bike of the year 5 
			years running. Unfortunately, the factory couldn’t keep up with 
			demand and probably wanted to cut production costs, so they farmed 
			out some of the work. The quality control went downhill and my bike 
			was a victim of this policy. The paint came off. Bits fell off. 
I bought the bike from a dealer 
			down south who didn’t want to know about my dissatisfaction. Norton 
			still had their engine factory in 
Thoroughly disillusioned, I 
			returned home and read my Motor Cycle Sport monthly magazine over a 
			cup of tea. Eddy and I enjoyed “Sport” every month and we still have 
			all the copies from the mid sixties up until they went “glossy” a 
			few years ago. The content used to be written by intelligent, 
			experienced motorcyclists and engineers and was always a good read. 
			One article was about Phil Irving, a well respected engineer and I’m 
			sure many of you will know of his involvement with Vincent, Brabham 
			Racing etc. Like Norton-Villiers years later, 
I was just about to make another 
			cup of tea when I turned the page of the magazine and there was my 
			“second love”. A full page colour picture of the new 750 Ducati 
			‘round case’ V-twin. It was in Ferrari-esque red and looked 
			fabulous! I couldn’t really afford one, but you know the power of 
			love.
Some more AMC stock was sold to feed my desire and the Commando was part chopped for one of the first 750 GT Ducatis in the country. Unfortunately, the only colour was in a sort of insipid yellow/gold, but this was balanced by a glorious engine that was smooth, and sounded fantastic.
			 
 
			
In my humble opinion the 
			Italians produce beautiful women, cars and motorbikes etc, but they 
			tend to be temperamental and sometimes unreliable. My Ducati was no 
			exception and there was a serious problem on its first trip out. Was 
			I doomed? 
I bought the bike from Coburn 
			and Hughes who were the importers. There was a very bad oil leak 
			from the front cylinder head joint. A quick check on the head 
			fasteners found them tight. It all looked pretty serious to me, 
			although it could just be the head gasket. My enquiry to the 
			importers was not fruitful. “Your bike is one of the first in the 
			country and we haven’t got any spares, not even any gaskets”. 
			Frustration set in.
The oil leak was bad enough, but 
			the fluid wasn’t gushing out. I hatched a plan. I telephoned 
			‘incognito’ to inquire about purchasing a 750 Ducati at the same 
			shop and yes, they had one in stock. I travelled down south early 
			next morning and kept an eye on the oil level. I knew that the 
			workshop entrance was round the back, so I rode the bike behind the 
			shop. I didn’t speak to anyone as I opened the large workshop door 
			and pushed the bike inside, on to the centre stand and then just sat 
			there. Mechanics and staff kept passing by and gave me inquisitive 
			looks. Eventually someone asked if they could help. “I’d like to 
			talk to the manager, and by the way I’m NOT moving until I get my 
			NEW bike fixed”. The manager arrived and repeated that they had no 
			spares. I explained that my 
			spares were on the new unsold twin in his front window and if 
			his mechanics were too busy I would do the work myself. This I duly 
			did. The end of the day saw me riding my Ducati, with no oil leaks, 
			up the M1 back home. The problem was a cracked cylinder liner and 
			the new donor bike’s bits did the trick.
Does lightning strike twice, or 
			was it déjà vu? Like the Commando, the bike handled well and was 
			smooth, but the paint came off and bits came off just the same. 
			Typically, the electrics were unreliable. I was disillusioned again 
			and the bike had to go. 
A short flirt with a new 
			Norton-Villiers built 750 Triumph Trident was déjà vu yet again. 
			Smooth engine, great handling, but it went wrong straight away and 
			the technicians at Small Heath never did fix the clutch problems. 
			The bike had to go!
It’s funny looking back after 
			owning several Japanese bikes in recent years. In the early 
			seventies there was still this stigma attached to owning one. “Jap 
			crap” was a phrase still to be heard, and although I wasn’t so 
			radical I was still trying to be patriotic apart from my “fling” 
			with the Ducati. That said, there was no way I would consider owning 
			a BMW. They were too expensive, foreign and meant for old men with 
			pipes and slippers!
So eating my words saw me test 
			riding a new 750 BMW. I was earning more money now so a BM was 
			within my financial reach. The salesman said I could have the bike 
			all morning, but I was back within an hour. He had a perplexed look 
			on his face as I returned much earlier than expected. “Is there a 
			problem with the bike?” I replied, “No, but that is the worst bike I 
			have ever ridden”. The boxer engine was indeed smooth, but the 
			engine speed clutch gearbox and shaft drive “jacking” were 
			completely alien to me. The salesman explained that BMW’s were like 
			Marmite, you either love them or hate them. “Come back and have full 
			day on it to get the true flavour”. This I duly did and so began a 
			history of having a boxer BMW in my possession ever since. They 
			certainly are like Marmite and actually, I really do love real 
			Marmite!
			 
			
			Touring France on the 75/6 BMW circa 1980
A familiar story now unfolded as 
			family and mortgage soaked up the finances and it would be many 
			years before I could entertain a new bike purchase again. So what 
			was I left with?  I was lucky 
			in keeping hold of my BMW and one Matchless single after selling 
			everything else mechanical to raise the cash for a house deposit. I 
			was also left with the experience of “Pickin’ up good vibrations” or 
			not, and the methodology of engineers in trying different ideas in 
			order to reduce this irritation. 
Racing Remembered
John Stone raced on the Isle of Man in the 70' and 80's. Here he shares an Isle of Man Reminiscence.

In the late 70's TT I had entries for the Junior, Senior and Formula 
			111 races. 
			The plan was to run a borrowed LC motor in one TZ race bike then 
			swap engines after the Formula 111 race.
			I managed to destroy the LC motor very quickly in practice (another 
			story) so back in went my trusty TZ engine. Only problem was that it 
			wouldn't run other than an odd pop and bang.
			OK. So I changed the ignition - no improvement. Changed the carbs - 
			no improvement. Even had the crank rebuilt with new seals - no 
			improvement. In desperation I took it up the paddock for a run on 
			the diagnostic dyno. No fault could be found (other than it wouldn't 
			run !) Everyone perplexed.
			We were sitting in the garage the night before the race despondent. 
			The guy who owned the garage came up to commiserate. He said that 
			although he knew nothing about engines let's go through it 
			systematically.
			OK he said. Exhausts first. I said nothing can go wrong with 
			expansion chambers that is not visible. Nevertheless he said blow 
			down them. Well I tried but could not because they were blocked.
			I then remembered that I had put some rag plugs in the exhaust stubs 
			as protection. (Against what ? spiders? mice? …)  When the 
			engine first fired up the rags had blown down to the tail pipes and 
			blocked them. Of course noisy friends were there to cheer and take 
			photos of me with a big black ring round my mouth after trying to 
			blow down the pipes.
			They were very understanding and hardly laughed at all. But the day 
			was saved.
			Not quite the end of the story.  It was a push start in those days. Engine 
			fired, running well.  Jumped on heading for St. Ninians Crossroads.
			The left footrest then folded down. An enthusiastic helper, doing 
			his best in last nights panic had fitted it upside down. Luckily I 
			was running ' British' left side rear brake in those days. However 
			it was a long hard four laps trying to jam my leg into the fairing 
			for support.
			
			One to remember!  John Stone
In Chat 17 Racing Remembered I mentioned I had a noise testing story that I would tell another time. Here it is. Eddy
I was doing the noise testing at a Vintage 
			race meeting at Oulton Park. 
			I called out the numbers that had been selected for noise 
			testing on that day.  As 
			usual we randomly picked three or four riders out to be tested. 
			On this day one of the people to be tested was Roger Moss and 
			his Scott.  I waited for 
			quite a while and Roger hadn't turned up, so I went out into the 
			paddock, found Roger and told him he had to be noise tested.
			 Roger started the Scoot and I 
			checked the reading with the meter. 
			It was way, way, over the limit the limit. 
			The limit these days, I think is 105db, back then I think it 
			was higher maybe 115db.  
			I think the Scott tested at something like 120db, well over the 
			limit.
In those days most racing Scotts used two 
			very short open megaphones that terminated just underneath the 
			engine.  Now Roger, 
			gentleman that he is, said okay I'll put it back on the trailer. 
			He accepted  he 
			had been caught and wasn’t going to be racing the Scott at that 
			meeting because it was too noisy. 
			
There's a little bit more to this story 
			because Roger and his Scott had been noise tested several times in 
			the past and it had passed the test. 
			 How come it got through the noise test before and today, 
			with the bike in the same specification it had been before, it 
			hadn't passed the noise test?
If you know a little about how most two 
			strokes work the “valves” are holes or ports cut into the barrel. 
			They open and close as the piston by being covered or 
			uncovered as the piston goes up and down in the bore. 
			These ports open are open or closed irrespective of whether 
			the engine is running forward or backwards. 
			
When I had my MZ Super 5, occasionally when 
			starting it would do a little backfire and start running in reverse. 
			If you hadn’t noticed, it was quite a shock to engage first 
			and find yourself going backwards as you let the clutch out!
Here's how in the past, Roger had got the 
			Scott through the noise test. 
			He had always pushed the Scott down to the testing area with 
			the engine already running.  The 
			trick was that he had started it by pushing it in reverse. 
			The engine running in reverse made less noise. 
			On this occasion he couldn’t start it in reverse as I was 
			watching which would have given the game away.
There is another little thread to this 
			story.  Roger went away 
			and built a new exhaust system with a custom built expansion chamber as used by 
			more modern two-stroke racers so when the Scott returned to racing it was 
			quieter and even faster.  Eddy
			
Here something for the machinist amongst us:-
Tony Harris
  
			We all know about the Commando dodgy exhaust threads and how 
			difficult it is to keep these tight and not let the exhaust pipe 
			fall out, along with the thread.
			I will explain in pictures because like me, half of you can't read. 
			A pictures says a thousand words, and all that.
			
			Whatever we do its got to be stronger than the origin thread in the 
			cast alloy. There are a few ways to do this, some more expensive and 
			time consuming than others.
			
			First, I turn the inserts up in Dural with the correct thread 
			internally screw cut. 
			
			
			
I then push the insert in flush with the head.
			
Next,
			
			The new exhaust threads installed.
			
			
Another unusual model engine form John Goodall's collection. Eddy
			
			
			
			
			
			
			
			
			
			
			
A comment from Mick Leach that I liked:- I think I have learnt more about other club members in a couple of weeks (of chats) than in a month of club nights.
And a little more profound:- Learning of other members adventures and exploits prompts me to reflect on what good lives we have had. We are fed up looking at our toys, wondering when we can go out to play. We have never experienced the fear that our fathers and grandfathers had, waiting for the signal to go into action with a bayonet fixed or seated in an aeroplane and being shot at.
			
Also i
