British
Parts Wanted
The edited version
of this story first appeared in Motorcycle Mojo Magazine
November/December
2005
Volume 4, Issue
6
Wanted:
British Parts.
Repeatedly I've seen this ad in a buy and sell rag and
I keep thinking, "Man, this guy's probably got
a basket case, can't find the parts, and he's stuck
in the middle of it." Seems for years now he's
been trying to finish that ol' basket case. As a matter
of fact I'm convinced the poor fellow hasn't learned
his lesson yet and he's determined to drive himself
crazy.
So
one day while I was cutting the hairs on the head of
another motorcycle bro, simultaneously trading biker
stories about BSAs and Harleys, I happened to mention
the British parts ad. Marty tells me he knows the guy
behind the advertisement. So there we were, talking
about the "poor fellow" who in fact was rebuilding
a basket case and instead of learning his lessons, was
actually teaching them. Excitedly Marty began to describe
in animated detail the beautiful machine our "poor
fellow" had rebuilt, from scratch.
This
guy's got me intrigued by now. My wheels are turnin'
by God and my head's abuzz with ideas for my new website.
Now admittedly I know absolutely nothing about British
motorcycles. I do know however that I've always favored
the classic look of a vintage bike no matter what the
make. So I flippantly asked Marty if he thought this
"rebuilder of British bikes" would be willing
to allow me to interview him (this flippantness always
gets me into trouble...) Marty replies, telling me he'd
ask him, and the worst that can happen is he'd say no.
This would make a nice addition to my "Real Bikes
Real People" page on my website...
A week
or so goes by, and by now I had totally forgotten about
wanting to interview John, the "rebuilder of British
Bikes" - until one day I received a phone call
from him. In a surprisingly literate, non-grunting well
mannered voice, he agreed to let me come see his motorcycle
and interview him. Jumping from my salon-professional
clothing into jeans and a Harley shirt, with the glorious
hot sun shining down upon me, I rode my bike over to
meet John.
Rounding
the corner onto his street, I saw a garage door, open
to the world, complete with motorcycles displayed against
a backdrop of bike posters and tools neatly hanging
from their specified spots. Must have the right place.
"Hi Liz! Come on in - we're inside the shop!"
Suddenly a flood of conflicting thoughts and images
invaded my head as I watched this small framed man,
with neatly trimmed graying hair wave me in from inside
the garage. Must be the neighbor who thinks he owns
the place. Setting my lid on my motorcycle, I walked
up the drive and joined the guys discussing bike repairs,
inside the shop. By now I'm totally overwhelmed with
the flash of chrome, parts and tidiness of the place,
and still looking for John. There was no long-haired,
goatee-bearded, 250lbs+, bandana-wearing biker dude
anywhere to be seen. There was, however a small framed
man with neatly trimmed graying hair and impeccable
manners introducing himself as "John". Now,
if ever there was a contradiction to be seen, this was
it. I mean, this guy looked nothing like what I had
pictured in my mind a "rebuilder of British bikes"
would look like. His friend must have thought the same
about me. He seemed pretty excited at the whole scene
of my pulling up the drive on my loud rumbling Hog.
Especially given the fact I was on my toes on the damn
thing. (That always gets them...)
After
a concluding diagnosis on his friend's British bike's
woes, John sent him along his merry way, gas tank in
hand and a smile on his face. But not before his friend
sang the praises of John's intelligence when it came
to British bikes. I could see by the collection of books
and manuals lining the shelves that this guy had a serious
hobby here - a serious obsession. Suddenly I felt privileged
to have been allowed into this sacred place. That no
one else would think to interview this man before (maybe
they had, but didn't have the nerve to ask) made me
feel like I'd won the lottery.
With
John's permission, I began taking pictures. In his soft-spoken
voice he talked about his bikes, describing what year
they were born, what changes they'd gone through together
on their journey to original condition - just as any
proud parent would of their own precious growing babies.
Married and childless, the retired elementary teacher
had always had a passion for motorcycles. Restoring
for only the last fifteen years but riding since age
seventeen, John fondly recalled memories of his first
bike - a 1966 Yamaha 250. Good year, I thought. I piped
in about my Honda 250 at that point, and about my first
year of riding - at age sixteen, on a Honda Twinstar.
His passion for his British family very quickly re-ignited
my own passion for motorcycles. I caught myself getting
off topic many times, trailing off into my own stories
of sordid adventures while on the road, often drawing
a chuckle out of John.
Sitting
under a lovely shade tree, a welcome respite from the
30 degree Celsius heat, it was during periods of my
own silence (a rare thing I must say) that it became
evident just how extremely knowledgeable this man was.
He knew his craft well, and I could see why his friends
would bring their "patients" to the "Dr.
of British". John was once again teaching - teaching
me that Norton's "Commando" was rubber-mounted
-just like my Dyna is today, but back then, ahead of
it's time. Teaching me that Triumph and BSA were competing
adversaries. Teaching me that British bikes, while they
tend to intimidate one who's not so mechanically inclined,
are really just very basic - a motorcycle - with two
wheels, basic suspension, and a motor which, except
for a couple of special ones, requires mostly just simple
hand tools to work with. When asked, his favorite bike
is the Commando - he finds they have plenty of torque
and run very smoothly due to the rubber mounted engine.
John's first restoration was a 1970 Norton Commando
and a 1970 BSA 500 Royal Star - yes, you got it - two
at a time! He discovered that for the most part (pardon
the pun) parts were readily available, whether original
or reproduction. Most of the parts are Made in England
still. The one thing John does find harder to locate
are the gas tanks.
"I
belong to the Canadian Vintage Motorcycle Group (CVMG)
which is a great resource for information and parts.
Our group hosts and attends regularly scheduled events
- such as the upcoming rally down in Paris, Ontario,
Father's Day weekend. It's a combination bike show and
swap meet."
In
addition to events, the CVMG publishes a newsletter
containing free ads and is a great network within the
club for the exchange of information. When asked about
insurance, the reply was a surprising one to me. At
one time not so long ago, it was difficult to find insurance
for any vintage motorcycle over 25 years old. Skyrocketing
prices kept collectors from insuring their treasures.
Diligent sourcing on John's part led him to Dalton Timmis,
an insurance company that caters to vintage owners.
The prices were reasonable enough to prompt John into
insuring his bike(s) through them. Although quotes may
vary according to the model of motorcycle being protected,
John found Dalton Timmis' quotes at times to be 1/2
of the current rate, further encouraging him to inquire
about insurance for his Harley. (Yes, he rides a Hog
as well.)
What's
his wife think of all of this?
"She's the gardener. My wife has also been riding
since age sixteen. She rides a vintage Honda 350/4.
[350cc, 4cylinder] Once in awhile I need her assistance
holding parts in position while I do what's necessary
at the time. She is very supportive of what I do –
she knows where to find me most of the time!"
So
the wife didn't escape unscathed. Might as well join
'em if you can't beat 'em.
As
for myself - what have I come away with? Well, if I
don't ask, for sure I won't get. The most important
lesson taught and learned - we all start off small,
we never stop learning, and it's the Triumph of putting
together all the little pieces, the turning of a key
which actually opens the door, that makes life worth
living. It's not about the end - it's about the ride
along the way.
For
further information about the Canadian Vintage Motorcycle
Group, go online at www.cvmg.ca.

1972
Norton 750 Commando Combat
Starting in 1968, Norton made
several models of Commando.
This 1972 Norton 750 Commando Combat has logged only
896
original miles since it's restoration. It is considered
to be Norton's
fastest stock model of motorcycle. It is also sometimes
known as
the Roadster because of it's small streamlined style.
Norton then
produced a touring model Commando, utilizing the same
chassis and engine
as the Combat, but with a larger fuel tank, different
seat and different muffler
style. In 1973, Norton goes to 850cc. 1975 Norton 850
Commando Roadster
was Norton's first to have electric start, disc brakes
front and rear, and was
also the last full year of production for the Commando.

1967
Triumph Tiger Cub
This little cutie (my favourite
due to the size) uses all of its 200cc for trail riding
as well as street. It sits at 4000 original miles, and
is considered to be dual purpose - on and off road.

1968
Triumph Trophy 650 (also called Tiger 650

1967 BSA
500 Royal Star
Beginning summer
of 2004, it took John less than a year of
royal treatment to build this Royal Star from a basket.
The chrome tank gave this model extra flash, and is
what makes
it stand out from the rest.

John is
pictured here on a 1970 Norton Commando
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by Roadgypsy
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