This article is an amalgam of two topics really, all of which take me back to my first days of riding a motorcycle. They are simply remembrances of events with a particular manufacturer’s motorcycle marque that looks like it’s on the verge of returning to the market. The second part of this article is about how an Indian motorcycle company has sparked an interest in vintage motorcycles, updated to 2024, both in terms of electronics and motorcycle engineering.
Back in 1969, I began my long and winding road of experience motorcycling which I’ve written about previously. In those days, most of my friends and acquaintances rode motorcycles as they were cheap to purchase, cheap to run, cheap to maintain, cheap to fuel, cheap to insure, and cheap to license. You may have noticed a theme here. Yes, I hung around with a collection of cheap chaps in general.
I worked two jobs as early as fifteen years of age, primarily so that I could afford some form of transportation. In those days, my father would not loan me his car, so it was do it yourself or walk. On almost every weekend, I would exchange my car for a motorcycle with a friend, as my father had forbidden me to own a motorcycle. The answer to my riding dilemma came in the form of a lend-lease program that Churchill would have been proud of.
I got the use of a Honda CB160 motorcycle, and the other party got the use of my 56 Chevy, which believe me, was no bargain. My high school was literally across the tracks and I, as you may have guessed, lived on the somewhat cheaper side of those tracks. When I would drive my car on weekdays, I had a ride service essentially, charging would be members of the ride share about 3 gallons of fuel each per week. This amounted to the Kingly sum of $1.47 per week, which I immediately dispensed to my gas tank. With four people per week as occupants, I could just about fill my gas tank to within a quarter of full. But I digress.
And here is where I return to the story of my first, now vintage motorcycle experience. A friend back in the day, rode a BSA 650 Lightning motorcycle, which was way beyond my means. You may also assume that he came from the other side of the tracks. He arrived at school one morning on his newly purchased steed. We were all duly impressed.
A friend of mine (not to be complicit in what followed) said, “You know Bruce, you’re bike ‘looks’ fast, but is it?” As any red-blooded friend of mine would have responded, “Really? Well let me show you”, Bruce strode over to his bike on the street, saying, “I’ll go back to the intersection, and run down to where you guys are. Clock me and tell me how fast I am.” It all sounded reasonable to me, but then, I wasn’t to be the individual that would fly by the Principal’s Office that morning, at what I believed was close to the speed of light, my Physics abilities notwithstanding.
Bruce rode to the intersection and turned around. We could hear the engine revving down the street. The guy timing him dropped his hand and Bruce was off, like the proverbial Lightning he was riding. At the same time, a girl in my homeroom class named ‘Kitty”, (and yes, she was blonde and buxom), had just gotten into her mom’s yellow VW bug, parked at the curb. Bruce was rapidly gaining speed as he approached the line to where he would be clocked, when out of the blue, Kitty opened the car door of her mom’s canary yellow bug.
Bruce hit the door, probably doing a good 45 miles an hour, ripping the door completely off the bug. He flew by the Principal’s office like a pole vaulter on a tear and impacted the concrete. Bruce wore a helmet, of sorts. It was a genuine WWI German Helmet that had a spike on its top. Needless to say, Bruce landed on his head, shearing off the spike and tumbling down the road like only 200 pounds of human tumbleweed can do. Simultaneously Kitty got out of her car as the Principal bolted through the doors of the school.
The three of us accomplished reprobates stood, jaws agape, one of us still holding the stopwatch. As the Principal ran by, he yelled, ‘You three, in my office now!”, followed by a rude, “Oh shut up Kitty”, who was whining about her car door. Needless to say, we all ended up in the guidance teacher’s office, except for Bruce, who went directly to the hospital via ambulance.
Bruce, as only Bruce could do, yelled, “Pick up my spike!” as he was being loaded into the ambulance. Other than a broken collar bone and a bad road rash (to this day, I understand), Bruce survived. Bruce became famous overnight for his daring feat. Subsequently known as either ‘Bruce, the flying Wallenda’ or ‘Spike’, both of which were apt, dropped out of school and joined a 1% outlaw motorcycle club. Aptly, it was discovered recently that Bruce just retired, as a school principal.
Who knew?
Life was never boring at the age of sixteen.
Part II – BSA Today
RideApart magazine recently had an article (Feb. 2024) about BSA motorcycles which sparked my memory, and this article. The author, Janaki Jitchotvisut, talked about how Indian motorcycle company, Mahindra, had acquired the rights to BSA, way back in 2016, and was in the process in 2024 of either building or acquiring a manufacturing facility in the UK in Banbury, Oxfordshire, as well as a separate facility near Coventry.
Then the pandemic, slammed on the brakes in 2022.
Recently announced in India’s Economic Times, Classic Legends (formerly BSA) plans to go ahead, (like Norton), building a factory within the UK sometime in the next fiscal year (later than April 2024).
Having an obvious interest in the former BSA, I’ll keep you apprised as Classic Legends begins its foray into the motorcycle world, once again.
Thanks for the memories BSA.
Ciao…
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