My History:
I am approaching middle age, if you can believe that the average person will live to be 100 years old. If not, then I am approaching half of that and already on the downward slope of life!
I started riding motorised two wheel bicycles when I was in my early youth. My grandfather never had any interest in cars and did all of his local travelling on an old blue Puch step-through moped. That was stolen when I was around 12 years old. He had to buy another, this time a Puch 50cc moped that was bright yellow, with a chrome tank. I think he must have had a local dealership because he never travelled far!
The yellow peril was one of the original mopeds, with pedals to start and looked ghastly, but I was destined to inherit this on my 16th birthday, little did I know at the time.
The blue step-through was recovered by the police and returned to my grandfather, but was in pieces. Not much left but the frame, engine and wheels. (Did it have any more extras when it was complete?) It was then taken to my uncle’s house on the Isle of Sheppey where it was tinkered and played with until it could be started and ridden again. Uncle Mick, had a lot of land. A rough, unmade driveway about ¼ mile long and extended grounds to the rear made a great substitute for a private speedway track. I spent hours riding flat out, up and down the drive and around the perimeter of his boundary, learning and sharpening my riding skills. I was lucky enough to carry on with this pursuit at every opportunity that I visited my uncle for a couple of years, until his circumstances changed and he emigrated to the U.S. of A. How selfish! I then had to wait until I reached my 16th year before I could get back onto two motorised wheels.
The Puch was delivered a couple of weeks before my birthday. Cruel temptation, just waiting to be ridden, but I had a father who would have broken my legs if I had dared to take one wheel out of the end of our house driveway! So there I was. Living in a semi detached house on a main road. Fortunately we had a driveway from the road to the garage at the side of the house. It must have been all of 30 metres long. Never mind. It was time to re-hone those riding skills. I somehow managed by the repetitive monotony of riding from road edge to garage door, to clock up 65 miles before my birthday!
Sixteen. Why do we think at that age we are the bee’s-knees? The photos I now see of myself remind that I just wasn’t cool at all, but the yellow peril was now mine. Leather jacket, flared trousers, long hair down to my shoulders, bum-fluff ‘tasche and a white full face crash helmet. All 6’2” of me, atop and astride that Yellow Peril. What on earth did I look like?
My dad took me to the local secondary school car park one evening to practice before he would let me loose on the road, but with all my experience, it wasn’t needed. Like a duck to water, off I went. That bike travelled miles. Most of it flat out. I know, it wasn’t a ‘Fizzy’ or an AP50, nor even an SS50 from the stables of the famous three, but it was mine and I loved it. Three gears, on a twist grip on the left handle bar. It wasn’t quite as quick as my mate’s bikes, but it would do 40mph and was quick enough and it was certainly different.
I was one of the younger kids in my year so the novelty for them riding to school had already passed by the time I was old enough to take my bike in. But for me it was a proud moment. Riding my gleaming yellow bike into school, at lunchtime, with everyone in the playground, watching, admiring, throwing envious glances and jealous comments. Then, it had to happen. I somehow managed to fall off at 2 mph as I turned into the parking area! No damage to the bike but HUGE dent in my pride.
That first year of riding went so fast. I would ride for fun, ride to college, ride to work. Every opportunity I was out on my bike. For what it was, the Puch was quite reliable. My mates were replacing pistons and rings and whatever else, while mine just kept going. Only minor problems ever stopped me riding it and I made it my goal to ride to a high standard, which I took pleasure in doing. While my mates would fall and slide, after my initial embarrassment in the school car park I got better and better and enjoyed the experience.
BMW K1200RS 