Smudger Snippets
Created | Updated Jul 6, 2005
Motoring
It was a bright sunny day as I wheeled out the motor bike from my Dad's garage, and jumped on it to free wheel down our street to the garage at the bottom. I was about to buy my very first gallon of petrol for the grand price of three shillings and nine pence. It was my birthday, in fact it was my sixteenth one, and I was legally allowed to drive a motorbike as long as it had L plates on it.
The bike was an old 250cc BSA with a side valve engine, just like the ones used during the war by the army for their dispatch riders. It had been lying in one of the sheds outside our house for years after my Dad had stopped using it when he bought his first car. It had a central spring for the front suspension, not the telescopic forks that came out later. After free wheeling down to the garage and filling the tank with one gallon of National petrol, it was time to kick start it to see if it would in fact go. My Dad and I had spent a long time working in it, to get it ready for the road, but we had never in fact started it up. After two or three attempts it did in fact start, and with a few turns of the wrist I could hear the engine revving like it was rearing to go, just as I was.
I was now ready to join the thousands of other road users and become a motorist. As I mounted the bike I looked back up the street and could see my Dad waiting to see if I got it going, and with a flick of the wrist, and a bit of left hand clutch control I was away.
It was not the first time I had ever driven really, as I used to drive my Dads ice cream van between stops on the RAF camp near by, as well as on the council house estates in all the neighbouring towns where my Dad used to go with his van. In fact I had been driving like this since I was twelve, as soon as I could reach the floor peddles of his van, the gear change was no problem for me to reach as it was a column type. I had on occasion driven the family car on deserted back roads; it was a massive big Austin A70 with a column gear change. I just loved to drive, and indeed took every opportunity I was offered, which included going out with one of our permanent lodgers in his small Mini car, where we used to go to a abandoned air strip near by, which was far better as it gave me a chance to go up and down the gears as we increased speed.
It was not long before I arrived back at our house as I had just gone round the block as it were, to prove to my Dad that I could indeed handle the bike. This was important to me, as if I did not prove this fact I would not be allowed to go anywhere on it alone.
The excitement must have been showing on my face as I pulled up, as my eyes were watering with the wind bowing in my face at speed, and my hair was sticking up vertical, as in those days the wearing of crash helmets was not compulsory. I passed the initial test of approval and was soon revving away down the road to use up the remaining petrol left in the tank. Of course the roads in those days were indeed a lot quieter than today, and if I did ever break down I knew that someone would stop and help me, as was the custom in those far off days, not a patch on present day motoring.
One of my friends had an old Lambertta scooter, so we used to go out together just in case either of us did in fact break down. Of course it being the early sixties it was the time of the Mods and Rockers, and to see a motorcyclist and a scooter rider out together was an unusual sight indeed, but neither of us had any interest of such matters, we just wanted to be out cruising in open roads. It was a great time to be alive, to feel the wind in your hair and hear that engine roaring as you sped along was a great feeling of freedom; we covered hundreds of miles and were out just as much as we could afford the petrol to do so. I think we learned a lot about driving during that time, about how to judge distances at speed and how to drive in traffic, breaking distances and the like, as neither of took any chances in case it meant crashing and losing our machines. Thats just how much we cared for them, as to be grounded without them was just unthinkable.
My only regret is that I never took the driving test for my motorbike, as I joined the Navy a couple of years later, and the first driving test I ever took was in a car. Since those days I have had to sit a few driving tests including the advanced driver test, which I only went for thinking that I would qualify for cheaper car insurance, but it never made any difference. Then I had to sit the hackney test in order to get my taxi driving license, then years later I had to do the emergency driving course as part of my training for the ambulance service. Of all these tests I would say the advanced driver one was the hardest, as the test itself lasted for two and a half hours which required an awful lot of concentration indeed. The emergency driving one was done over a two week period, and did in fact involve a lot of theory work as well as practical driving out on the open roads.
Over the years I suppose I have driven thousands of miles in many different vehicles, including Lorries and vans. One thing I have noticed over the years as the roads became more and more crowded is that politeness and patience have long since gone and been replaced with road rage! Gone are the days when someone would stop and help if they saw you broken down at the road side. Gone also is consideration for other road users be them motorists or cyclists of pedestrians. I suppose with cars being far more reliable these days that breakdowns are far fewer, as Im afraid to say are the drivers who used to show consideration to others, and allow for their little mistakes or misjudgments. No I am afraid the feeling I had on that lovely spring morning way back all those years ago now, was the first and last time I felt excited about being able to get out on the road and just drive.
