Ian Boyds most amazing collection of Vincents.

Well, just as you think there cant be anything else out there that will make my eyes open wide, my mouth hit the floor and just stand there trembling, but there most definatly is a really cool Museum that I hope to visit sometime, I used to live in Australia and loved the whole place, the food, the weather, the roads , the people and their passion for automotive collections.

Now if you ever get to Jurien Bay, which is about 2 hours North of Perth, then go and see Ian Boyd, as he has the largest Private collection of Vincent’s in the World. 46 in total, Holy Moly, I mean these bikes were built from 1928 up to 1955 When peter Vincent built the first model when the Ford had only just bought out the Model A.

And to see HRD’s- wow rare indeed, Howard Raymond Davies is where the Monogram derives from and to see these rare thoroughbreds is a treat indeed. Also Peter Vincent the Pioneer of these motorcycles rode his own bike to Victory at the 1925 TT at the Isle of man, stamping some authority in the 2 wheeled manufactures.

Collectively Ian’s museum has a net worth of over $5 million and will only get higher as these machines gain in value every year.

There’s not many people who wake up every day and eat breakfast overlooking a huge array of vintage motorbikes and vehicles. Former cray fisherman Ian Boyd built his house to accommodate his enormous collection, nearly 85 in total, and it truly is a sight to see so many vintage motorbikes lining up side by side.

Ian is a well-known character in Jurien Bay and opens up his home to bike enthusiasts from around Australia. He doesn’t advertise, it’s just word of mouth which brings people to his door.

“I love it, I am a people person and these motor enthusiasts are on the same wavelength as me. Now I’m retired it’s a great way to pass the time of day, just swapping stories,” he says.

“Most of these bikes were built between 1936 to 1955 and they are all British Vincent bikes. My favourite one used to be owned by a Siam prince who also raced cars. I reckon 800 people every year come and see my collection and I get them to sign my visitors book.”

Ian arrived in the town in 1985. He is passionate about motorbikes, there’s even an engine on his kitchen table. It’s a project he’s been trying to repair for months.

“I just cook around it,” he laughs.

“This is a great town, the beaches are safe, everyone is so friendly. Jurien Bay is paradise and I don’t want too many people knowing about this slice of paradise.”

WEST Australian Ian Boyd did not have any grand ambitions when he decided to start a motorcycle collection. He didn’t even consciously decide to focus his efforts on Vincent motorcycles. His collection started with one Vincent and, well, one thing led to another.

That was 29 years ago, when Ian was a cray-fisherman pondering how to keep busy in his retirement. He has since amassed such an extraordinary collection of Vincent motorcycles that it is regularly referred to as the best in the world.

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And it’s difficult to argue with that assertion. Of all the models built by the revolutionary but sadly short-lived British high-performance motorcycle manufacturer, Ian owns at least one of every model — except one. The ultra rare White Shadow has so far eluded Ian’s reach. Only 15 White Shadows were made, and their rarity and collectability were on show last year when a White Shadow (originally painted red, on special order) sold in the USA for $434,000.

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Not that anyone visiting Ian’s custom-built bike display showroom, under the main roof of his home north of Perth, is likely to complain. For the most part, visitors are gob-smacked.

Most bike collectors would give their left arm (and probably part of their right) to have just one Vincent in the shed. Ian has 39. And perhaps even more extraordinary is that you could remove all of the Vincents from Ian’s collection, and you’d still be left with a classic European bike stable to die for. (I’d been ogling the Vincents for a good 15 minutes or so before I noticed the Manx Norton — although I had noticed the 1970 E-type Jaguar).

But it’s the Vincents that steal the show. From a 1935/36 HRD TTR works bike through to Black Shadows and a Black Lightning, and on to a late 1990s RTV 1200 re-creation, Ian’s bikes tell the Vincent story from pre-birth to stardom, and then from financial oblivion to attempted reincarnation.

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CAPTION: It would be difficult to name the most famous of Vincent’s bikes because almost all of them were extraordinary and all have become collectable classics. But the Black Shadow, launched in 1948 and capable of 125mph, is a star. It was, at the time, the fastest motorcycle in the world. Note the air-cooled twin front brakes (drums on both sides of the wheel) and the unmistakeable Vincent V-twin engine. All the Black Shadows supposedly had black engines — although this one of Ian’s does not. “They were short on money by this stage, and couldn’t afford the paint,” he told us. Alongside the Black Shadow is an RTV1200; an Australian effort from the late 1990s intended to recreate the Vincent by blending that great old-motor styling and best-available technology for chassis, suspension and aerodynamics. The bike worked, but the business venture didn’t. Ian’s is one of only a handful that were made before the whole idea went belly-up.

For the uninitiated,  the Vincent motorcycle story is a British story — but it’s one with a strong Australian connection.

But first, let’s back up a little.

The first Vincents wore a badge that read ‘Vincent-HRD’, with the ‘HRD’ prominent and the ‘Vincent’ under-stated.

HRD were the initials of Howard Raymond Davies, a British soldier who survived being shot down and taken prisoner of war in World War One and who went on to design and sell high performance motorcycles under the HRD name.

His bikes were mostly powered by JAP engines and were successful on the racetrack. (For the record, JAP engines are not from Japan. JAP was a very English firm created in the early 1900s by a chap named John Alfred Prestwich who used his initials to name his business, as was the practice in those days.)

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CAPTION: The Black Lightning was a lightweight sports version of the Black Shadow. It weighed 170kg. The folks at Vincent were cutting edge in many areas of technology, but never fell for those new-fangled telescopic forks that other manufacturers got into.

The economics did not work out for HRD and Mr H.R.Davies, and the HRD name changed hands a couple of times, ending with another Brit by the name of Phil Vincent. Now, Phil wasn’t short of a quid — his family had money from Argentinian cattle ranches, as one did — and had already built a bike of his own. He’d also designed and registered a patent for a cantilever rear suspension set-up.

But he saw the economic sense in continuing to use the HRD name, since it had established significant racetrack credibility. Phil used the name Vincent-HRD from 1928 through to 1950, then changed it to ‘The Vincent’ — mostly because the company’s marketing effort was aimed at America, and ‘HRD’ was seen to be too similar to Harley-Davidson’s ‘HD’.

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CAPTION: The 500cc Vincent Grey Flash is generally known as a limited-edition race bike from 1950. Only 32 were made and, of those, just three were built to be road-going. This bike of Ian’s is one of those three and was sold new in Argentina. Note the cantilever rear suspension, a trademark of Vincent motorcycles. Company founder Phil Vincent patented the cantilever design in 1928, at age 20.

The Australian connection to the Vincent story comes from a brilliant Victorian engineer by the name of Phil Irving. Phil had a motorcycle workshop in Ballarat in the late 1920s but, when the Great Depression forced him out of business he looked further afield for opportunities. A rather unusual opportunity came along in 1930 when he found himself being the mechanic and pillion on the back of a 600cc side-valve Vincent-HRD, undertaking a UK-to-Australia-and-back promotional ride.

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CAPTION: The Rapide was Vincent’s first 1000cc V-twin, literally made by sandwiching two 500cc singles together. Parts from the 500 and 1000 are interchangeable. The Rapide was a revelation, and catapulted Vincent beyond 100mph and into the realm of superbikes.

That gig got Aussie-Phil Irving to the UK, and also made him visible to Brit-Phil Vincent. One thing led to another and, before long, Aussie-Phil and Brit-Phil had become great mates, and Aussie-Phil found himself on Brit-Phil’s payroll. It was a successful pairing. In 1934, Aussie-Phil designed an overhead valve 500cc engine which became the basis for The Vincent Meteor and, later, the more racy Comet 500. But a greater contribution was yet to come. In 1936, or so the story goes, Aussie-Phil noticed two Comet 500 engine drawings lying on a table. The drawings were coincidentally resting in a V-formation, looking all the world like a 1000cc V-twin.

Aussie-Phil and Brit-Phil agreed mating Comets was a grand idea, and so the 1000cc Vincent motor was born, in turn giving birth to the 45-horsepower 110mph Vincent Rapide. The Rapide evolved through multiple incarnations over the years including the legendary Black Shadow and the Shadow’s high-performance sports variant, the Black Lightning, which used aluminium in place of steel wherever possible and weighed in at a startling 170kg (compared with the Black Shadow’s 208kg).

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It is generally (but not universally) agreed that American racer Rolland Free was riding a Black Lightning in 1955 when, wearing not very much at all, he set a world record speed of 184.83mph at the Bonneville salt flats.

Amazingly, just as Rollie Free and that great photo were making Vincent a household name across the world, the end was nigh. Late in 1955, Brit-Phil announced that Vincent’s bike-building days were over.

(Footnote: Aussie-Phil returned to Australia in 1949 and continued in the engine-design business. He was famously recruited by Aussie motoring legend Jack Brabham in 1963 to design a Formula One engine. Aussie-Phil did just that — a three-litre V8, supposedly with BSA Gold Star cam profiles — and Jack won the 1966 Formula One Driver’s Championship and the Manufacturers’ Championship using that engine. Phil died in 1992 at the age of 89.)

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Below is a few more great bikes that I would love to own just one, brilliant effort and quick the nest egg for him and his family, although I sure hope he doesnt sell them all, just a great place to go and visit for sure.

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So much Classic iron is a super rare find for many of these machine, so the opportunity to go and visit Ian would be such an entertaining experience to be honest.

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Just look at the great choices you could have to ride everyday, an Aladdin’s cave of awesomeness in every conceivable configuration.

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Even a sprinkling of cool Automobiles too, Love the Drop head Coupe as well as the 1/4 Midget Track car.

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CAPTION: Ian might be a hoarder, not a trader, but sometimes he needs to shed something. This New Zealand McIntosh-built Egli frame with 35mm Ceriani forks and Works rear shocks has become excess to requirements and Ian is trying to find a new home for it. (You’ll need to bring $6,500 with you.)

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HELL ON WHEELS 2016 Glen Helen

Well, it’s that time of year and even though Dakota has not finished built his TT 500, Meatball was kind enough to loan Kota an old 250 Honda to bimble about for the Hell On Wheels Races that were held at Glen Helen on the Lucas truck race track.

The weather was ominous but no matter what, this event will go on, Rain or Shine.

We got there around 10am and people were already set up, we put the easy up together and unloaded the bike etc, and Kota got to do some practicing, and had fun as the bike was just a little 250 and would give him some good practice for when he gets into the Flat track season later on.

To be honest, the weather could not be better as we had a little light rain and that took care of the dust, as out here in the desert, it sure does get dusty, so it was great to have intermittent weather and everybody was thankful for that.  Taking off on jumps with a lose foot peg was hilarious for me to watch and Dakota was having fun.

After practice, Dakota got a late start, as the bloody foot peg fell off, so he was half a lap down at the start of the Race, but still managed to get onto the track and have fun on that 250 with no working front brake and leaking front forks.

The races were fun, the track was bumpy but not technical enough to be dangerous as to crash all the time.

He did well and managed to get a lot of experience on that track, on a bigger machine he would of really placed well for sure, but this was a fun event and the commeraderie is unsurpassed at any event that I have attended and loved all the different styles and era’s of machines that were there for people to get close to.

My old room mate Granter Peterson of now Born Free fame, has recently acquired this unreal 1929 Harley tank shifter and so original its stunning to see and hear.

I have known Grants for over 16 years and was so glad that he got into Motorcycles, I thought I was the only nutter in that town we lived in.

Plenty to see and do and to watch these old boners bang and shake their way around the track at speed was immense, and this is how the Pioneers did it back then, showing the owners of these prestigious two wheeled contraptions, how hard it was- and still is to run an machine over hard dirt.

I was in for a treat of Vintage Motorcycles and some wearing vintage style clothing just added that proverbial Cherry to the top of the cake.

You should try and make it out to these events as Meatball has run these types of events for a long time.

This is a event for every type of classic machine and so many different people and we all had a unique bond with motorcycles and the like, something that is missing from many events these days.

The track was perfect for racing and lots of room to pass and do your thing as you fight your way around this infamous race track.

There were plenty of Machines I liked and I was stoked to see an Elsinore to be amongst the machines for this race event.

I loved this Trumpy and boy did it sound smooth.

This Bultaco bought back awesome memories of me and my brothers era of Dirt bikes and riding when we were teenagers back in the UK.

Another sweet Trumpy that was fun to watch out on the track all day at Glen Helen. Be sure to spread to word and bring a bike to race for the next one.

Here he is having a go and made me very envious in a good way, so cool to see these ridden on the dirt.

People were doing their own wrenching, and helping out with others, a really cool atmosphere that was rare to see these days.

Another Triumph taking a corner as he enters the whoops and then the table top here at Hell on Wheels in Glen Helen.

How about the Girls then? They too were racing and I loved that, so much fun to watch and these Girls were into it too.

Classic shot of this Tall Girly on a Trumpy and having fun yet still being really competitive too.

We need more ladies doing this, so pass the word.

This girl was a blast on a Motorcycle and in Trumpy attire too!

I was so glad that I captured this shot, just so Nostalgic and goes back to the day of rigid rides and back ache!!!

How about this, Suzuki, Yamaha and Husky in the bend with this slick Hipster smoking like a Reefer.

Such a Classic start line and was glad to be part of it, the weather was bang on for this race.

Committed to the corner, this looked like a blast.

Three deep and such a fun wide turn and made for a cool shot of these Classics battling it out for the lead.

Grant Peterson Hauling more Arse than a truck load of Colostmy bags as he hits the corner on this Dirt track on his 29 Harley.

Great racing and all mates afterwards, we need more of this going on thats for sure.

Epic shot of the table top and these guys were on it for sure.

Airborne and having fun, sure looked like he was having a blast .

These bikes are super hard to find and to race them is even rarer, I loved watching all the Boner shaker Tank Shifter machines giving it all they had.

I love this shot, I took it just as he got to the top and am so glad I captured just a little of the intensity but fun they were having at the track.

Big Fella, Big Bike, bring your vintage bike out next time, you will love it.

Flying like a bird as he gets to enjoy the view of coming back down to earth with a shuddering Rattle.

This Bloke was having a blast, he fell off on the corner but was still smiling, right on mate.

Giving it all as he hits the corner and his mates not far behind him, and he knows it.

 

The chase is on and the determination shows too.

Great photo as they are pushing each other to their max with old Jacket, jeans. Boots and Helmet, love this stuff.

Grant, gritting his teeth as he fights his 1929 Bone Shaker around the track.

Taking his Harley to the limit as the final lap approaches here at Glen Helen.

Now on the the straight and hold on .!!!!

Determination with a capital D as he enters the final lap of this race.

Giving it all he has got as the Checkered flag is not too far away.

 

This is hard to get around on the bend.

It goes down but softly and people quick to get the fella back up and in the race once more.

Back up and ready to continue, all fun and games and the soft dirt made it a little more forgiving if you fell.

Hitting the corner and ready for the straight away, such a Classic Harley to watch as it speeds by me.

Head down and wind it all the way open, hoping to keep his lead as the guy behind is trying hard to catch up.

I took this shot for the last Race and it sure looks like they are all set for the flag start from the cool Girl in the Red Jump Suit.

Everything was fun and the Flag girl was into it for sure.

On the start line once more, fun to watch them Roar off at once, backfiring and smoke too.

I took this shot from the pits of the start from behind, looked great.

Even with Mud all over his Glasses, he gritted his teeth and had such a blast on the track.

Grant seemed to have a blast on that 1929 Harley, a very Rare machine none the less but- so good to see it used like it was many moons ago.

Grant is all focused as this is the last lap for him and a fun one at that, good job mate.

On the last bit of the straight just before the finish, the old 29 held up well and it was brilliant to watch that’s for certain.

Grant finishes and everything is still in one piece, not sure the rider is though!

What a blast it was to see these Vintage Motorcycles rip along this dirt track, I sure hope that they continue to hold these races and if so, please try and attend, you will love it.

It sure was entertaining watching these heavyweight machines tear it up.

The Bomber Class is a Must to see.

Was great watching the girls and hopefully more will follow.

Everybody enjoyed these machines and I thank you for all your effort getting them ready.

Could not of asked for better weather for this race Event.

Top quality Rain wear too!

Until the next time.

Make sure you pass the word on this great event.

All types of machines too.

This Husky sounded great.

Old XR Honda, I have had a few of them over the years.

Gimme Gimme!

Honda getting some air time too.

These Girls love to race, get your lady out on a bike, its a Blast, My Girlfriend rides and loves it.

Classic Racing Jersey.

Elsinore got a few laps in too.,

Dug all the vintage styling too.

Have fun in the dirt and get some practice in for the next one.

Martin Lampkin Trials Icon Passes away.

When I was a kid I loved many Motorcycles, Obviously the TT bikes, any Road Racing, Drag bikes, but what we called Dirt bikes were a huge impact on my life, I loved trials riding but only has a little SL125 but could do unreal things on that only because I had the passion, will and determination to accomplish anything if it was up a hill, through some tree’s or through some rocks.

Sad to hear that Martin has passed away, my brother informed me this morning, only seems like yesterday i was using Blu-Tak to stick a poster of him up on my bedroom wall, much to my mum and dad”s annoyance.

My Heros of the Trials back then in the 1970’s and had poster taken from either motorcycle News or trials and Motorcross news were:

Mick Andrews ( TY250) Martin Lampkin (Bultaco),  Sammy Miller ( CZ), Rob Edwards ( Montesa), Jim Sandiford (Montesa).

God Bless you mate, plenty of wide area’s to ride now ya upstairs Martin.

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All great guys with skills I would never come close to ever even if I practiced 24 hours a day.

 

Martin and later on his Son Dougie really did dominate the trials world and as a teenager, I had Posters of these at home.

His family has stated via Trials Central:”It is with deep regret that we inform you of the sad passing of Harold Martin Lampkin, better known as Martin Lampkin, who lost his cruel year-long plus battle with cancer earlier today at the age of sixty-five.

“As the first ever FIM Trial World Champion back in 1975, Martin who continued right through to the present day to be a recognised and much loved figure within the motorcycle community the World over, passed away peacefully surrounded by his immediate family near to his hometown of Silsden, Yorkshire.

“Our thoughts and condolences are with his wife Isobel, his sons Dougie and Harry and other members of the Lampkin family, plus all his many friends motorcycling and otherwise at this sad time.

“Funeral details will be confirmed in due course.

 

 

“In the meantime, we politely request that the family’s privacy is respected during this difficult period.”

His son Dougie, who followed in his father’s footsteps to become a 12-times world champion motorcycle trialist, stated on his Facebook page:” Devastated to announce the news – my dad Martin Lampkin passed away this afternoon after year plus battle with cancer aged 65.”

Martin Lampkin was born 28 December 1950.

He competed in a variety of off-road motorcycle events, but specialized in observed trials competitions, winning the inaugural FIM Trial World Championship held in 1975.

My heroes of the trials era were a Family named Lampkin.

 

His family has stated via Trials Central:”It is with deep regret that we inform you of the sad passing of Harold Martin Lampkin, better known as Martin Lampkin, who lost his cruel year-long plus battle with cancer earlier today at the age of sixty-five.

“As the first ever FIM Trial World Champion back in 1975, Martin who continued right through to the present day to be a recognised and much loved figure within the motorcycle community the World over, passed away peacefully surrounded by his immediate family near to his hometown of Silsden, Yorkshire.

“Our thoughts and condolences are with his wife Isobel, his sons Dougie and Harry and other members of the Lampkin family, plus all his many friends motorcycling and otherwise at this sad time.

“Funeral details will be confirmed in due course.

“In the meantime, we politely request that the family’s privacy is respected during this difficult period.”

His son Dougie, who followed in his father’s footsteps to become a 12-times world champion motorcycle trialist, stated on his Facebook page:” Devastated to announce the news – my dad Martin Lampkin passed away this afternoon after year plus battle with cancer aged 65.”

Martin Lampkin was born 28 December 1950.

He competed in a variety of off-road motorcycle events, but specialized in observed trials competitions, winning the inaugural FIM Trial World Championship held in 1975.

 

He was the third son in a Silsden motorcycling dynasty and began riding motorcycles at an early age.

His older brothers Arthur and Alan Lampkin were successful motorcycle racers and became members of the BSA factory racing team in the 1960s. In the early 1970s, Lampkin established himself as one of the top competitors in motorcycle trials, gaining the attention of Francisco Bultó, the owner of the Bultaco motorcycle company. Bultó offered him a job as a member of the Bultaco factory trials team and, in 1973 he won the European trials championship as well as the British trials national championship. The European championship was considered to be the world championship at the time, as the sport of trials had yet to develop outside of Europe.

In 1975, the European championship was upgraded to world championship status and Lampkin claimed the title to become the first-ever trials world champion. He continued to experience success in the world championships until 1980, when the Bultaco factory began to experience financial troubles.

Lampkin then joined the SWM factory team until he retired from professional competition in 1982. Besides his European and World Championship titles, Lampkin was also a four-time winner of the Scott Trial (1977, 1978, 1981, 1982), a three-time winner of the British trials national championship (1973, 1978, 1980) and won the grueling Scottish Six Days Trial three consecutive times (1976, 1977, 1978).

 

 

After retiring from competition he supported his son Dougie in his successful career.

 

The Humble beginnings of the 59 Club.

HOW THE CLUB BEGAN


This is an article published about Father Bill when he passed away and his own words on the start of the club, It describes our first links with the ACE and how they are part of our history with few words by an early member Palladin

My Memories of Father Bill and the 59 Club are still very vivid.
By Palladin
I got to know Father Bill reasonably well and found him very approachable and down to earth person, very likable but did not suffer fools. I remember him coming to the Busy Bee on one occasion and he was in a bad mood he had just come off his Bike and damaged his new gloves, we had a laugh at the time as we thought he would like to swear to relieve his annoyance.
Father Bill always used to tell of his first visit to the Busy Bee when some one drove in one door and out the other, I have to admit that was me in my young silly days just 17 but should have known better.

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I did not meet Father bill on that occasion but as a result of his visit to the Bee a group of us when to the opening of the 59 Club in October 1962. The last time I spoke to him was after he retired about 18 years ago the Busy Bee Club were having a reunion, I was asked to contact him and invite him to attend. I eventually made contact with him and we were talking about the times at Hackney Wick I said to him about the Dorchester and the other things that we had done, I can’t remember the exact word but it was along the lines that he had met so many people over the years and it was difficult to remember names so it would be difficult for him to remember it I said my name, I said that in those days my nick name was Palladin, he retorted I remember you you road though the Bee on my first visit.

I wish he had remembered me for a good deed.
Whilst I have all the photos and cutting from that period I have managed to loose my original membership, I was below 10 I think number 7. So myself and my friends from the Busy Bee where there right from the beginning.

 

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I was fortunate enough to be invited to afternoon Tea at the Vicarage., to go to Blackpool with Father Bill and stayed overnight in a church hall it was the first trip arranged by the 59 club. The most exciting and memorable was to the “Fleur de Lys Ball” at the Dorchester where a small group of us won a draw to go to the charity Ball and represent the 59 Club. I am fortunate to have had a lot of pictures in Books and Magazines to remind me of that time.

 

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Father Bill was still active in later years it worth reading his story. It is interesting that in 1991, when he was over 70, Wrangler jeans invited Father Bill to spearhead a new advertising campaign, for which he was photographed under Southend Pier astride a 1960s motorbike. When he was approached by Wrangler, Father Bill sought the advice of his rector, who told him: “Of course you must do it. Good for the Church to be seen doing ordinary, rather silly things.” ( Bill was chairman of the 59 until his death a regulary attended AGM’s)

By 1964 the 59 Club was the biggest Motor Cycle Club in the World with 3,800 members, the club was immortalised in Giles cartoons. I am proud to have been a member of the 59 Club to have been there on the first night, to have been one of the first to join and to have part of it in its early days. Also being lucky to be in the right place at the right time to be involved with events such as the Dorchester also to have had the opportunity to get to know Father Bill, his passing is a sad loss to all those that knew him.


The Rev William Shergold, priest and motorcyclist, was born on October 17, 1919. He died on May 17, 2009, aged 89

By Rev. Bill Shergold. From Magazine of the Fifty Nine Club, November 1966

 

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For the next two or three years I used the bike for pottering around my parish, but the thought never entered my head that one day I would start a club for motorcyclists. Most of my time was taken up with the youth club, which had just been launched by the Revd. John Oates. Perhaps I ought to say a word about this club because it answers the question of why the club is called the 59.

“The club which we now know as the 59 Club started in 1962 as a section of the already flourishing 59 Club of the Eton Mission.”

This was the club we started in January 1959 with Cliff Richards as our guest star. We called it the 59 Club because we wanted to get away from the rather stuffy image of the traditional church youth fellowship. It was immensely successful from the start and many well-known recording stars came to visit us. The most fabulous evening of all was the night we were visited by Princess Margaret and her husband, together with Cliff Richard and the Shadows..


By this time the motorcycle disease had really taken hold of me. I traded in my C15 for 1959 Speed Twin and began to enjoy the thrills of a bike. I even bought a crash helmet(police-style with peak) and a leather jacket(three-quarter length, of course). Then one day I read in the daily papers that a special service for motorcyclists had been held in the newly opened cathedral at Guildford. This struck me as odd because cathedrals tend to be rather respectable. But it gave me an idea.

I caused a minor crisis at the hospital by riding my bike into a rainwater down pipe and smashing it. Bob sent me along to the North London branch of the Triumph Owners Club which in those days had its headquarters in a Quaker meeting house at Stoke Newington.
I shall always be grateful to the members of the TOMC for the way they welcomed me and backed up my ideas. Up to this moment I had been very much a lone motorcyclist. Now, through the Friday evening meetings at Stoke Newington, I found myself enjoying for the first time the fantastic comradeship of the motorcycle world.

Meanwhile plans were slowly taking shape for our big event which was now fixed for a Sunday in May, 1962. We had roped in the local road safety officer and we sent out dozens of circulars to all the motorcycle clubs in the area. Then something happened which was to have a profound effect on the whole future course of events.

 

One day, while I was talking about the service with some of the lads from the Triumph Owners Club, somebody said: “Of course the people you really ought to invite to your service are those young hooligans who go blasting along the North Circular Road.” “That’s all very well, ” I said, “but I don’t’ know any of them. How can I get in tough with them?” “If you really want to meet them you should go along to the Ace Cafe.” “Okay,” I said, “I will!”

Until know we had thought only of inviting members of highly respectable motorcycle clubs to our service. The other section of the motorcycling fraternity was completely unknown to me. I did recall, however, a magazine article I had read some years before whilst waiting to have my hair cut. It was the sort of article which appears from time to time in the American Press, describing the activities of the Hell’s Angels. It was lavishly illustrated with pictures taken at the Ace.

 

It certainly wasn’t calculated to inspire confidence in anyone proposing to visit that cafe for the first time.
The more I thought about it the more alarmed I became. The time I chose my trip to the Ace was a Sunday afternoon. Had I known more about the habits of young motorcyclists I certainly would not have chosen that particular time. The Ace is about 13 miles from Hackney Wick and I set out with several posters rolled up on the back of my bike, hoping that I might persuade the proprietors to put one up for me. Unsure of the kind of reception I should get, I wrapped a scarf around my neck covering up my dog collar. Just past Staple’s Corner about a dozen bikes ridden by sinister looking figures in black leathers roared past in the opposite direction. I felt almost sick with fear.

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By the time I had passed under the bridges at Stonebridge Park, I was in such a panic that I opened the throttle up and fled past the Ace as fast as I could. Then I realized that I was being a coward.


So at the next intersection I turned back. Again panic seized me and I went past. Then I turned back a second time and finally rode into the forecourt. By this time, the Ace was practically deserted. I ordered a cup of tea and sat drinking it, my face crimson with embarrassment. I left for home with out getting rid of a single poster. But I consoled myself with the fact that I had at least penetrated into the lions’ den, even if the lions were in fact out on the prowl.
Several weeks elapsed before my next attempt to reach the boys at the Ace.

In fact It was the night before the service was due to take place that I finally summoned enough courage to go there again. This time I made no attempt to conceal my collar and I went armed with a bundle of leaflets which said: “This is a personal invitation to YOU to come to church next Sunday for a special service for motorcyclists.” It must have been about eight o’clock on the Saturday evening when once again I entered the forecourt at the Ace.

It was packed with bikes. Hundreds of boys were milling around, laughing and talking. “This is it, ” I thought, “I shall almost certainly lose my trousers or land up in the canal.” I rode up to the nearest group and went straight to the point. “I want you all to come to church tomorrow.” Looking back I am amazed at my own nerve- I, a middle-aged clergyman invading the stronghold of one of the toughest groups of youngsters in the country.
There was no joking, no mickey talking. Instead they came crowding round, bombarding me with questions: “What’s it all about? Where is it? How do we get there?” Someone brought me a cup of tea. I never got inside the Ace at all- people kept coming to talk with me outside. All in all it was the most fantastic evening I have ever spent.


At midnight I managed to get away to snatch some sleep before making final preparations for the services at three o’clock the next day….. And what a service it was! Several days before I had issued a kind of press release, hoping that the papers would give us some advance publicity and so ensure we had a congregation. Only one paper mentioned it beforehand, but they turned up in force on the day itself-I suppose there must have been a dearth of murders and international crises that weekend. In addition, BBC and ITV sent news teams and I think there was a newsreel team there as well.

The theme of the service was that we should dedicate our bikes and ourselves to God’s service, endeavoring to use the machines in a responsible sort of way. In my address I compared the present-day motorcyclist to the knights of old and suggested that we should try to uphold the same ideals of courage, courtesy and chivalry.

To drive home the idea we had arranged for a number of different bikes to be placed inside the church-symbolizing the offering of our machines to God. It was a strange assortment, ranging from a Tina scooter to a magnificent Manx Norton which had been raced the previous weekend.
Looking back I suppose it was a bit of a gimmick to have the bikes in church. I never intended it that way. People bring cabbages and marrows to church for the Harvest Festival and no one complains. It seemed to me perfectly natural for those who love motor bikes to bring them into God’s house.

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I can’t imagine how we got through the service at all. There were photographers and cameramen everywhere. The church looked like a film studio with all the lights and trailing wires. Yet despite all these distractions there was a wonderful atmosphere of devotion and reverence.
Next day the papers were full of what had happened at Hackney Wick. Here are some of the headlines: “The Knight Errant’s of 1962 – Ton-Up Kids in Church”, “Ton Up Bikes Are Blessed”, “Pictures of a 100-mph Gang that may Cause a Storm”, “Blessings by the Ton”, “A Vicar blesses the Ton-Uppers.” One paper rang up the Bishop of London at midnight to ask him what he thought about it all!

 

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On Tuesday several papers published cartoons, the most famous of which was by Giles in Daily Express. I wrote and told Giles how much I had liked his picture and to my delight he sent me the original drawing signed by himself. This is one of my most treasured possessions and occupies a place of honor in my study. I was a bit overwhelmed by all this publicity.

But for me it had one great advantage. I couldn’t care less about having my pictures in the papers. What did please me was that almost overnight I had made friends with the boys at the Ace. Press cuttings and photographs poured in to the vicarage, so I took them up to the Ace and showed them around.

The lads were delighted at receiving some good publicity for a change. In the past any mention of them in the press had been unfavorable. I soon became a regular visitor at the Ace and got to know some of the lads quite well. One of them even invited me to his home to have lunch with his family. Others began to tell me about their mates in the hospital. At this time, also, I received considerable “fan” mail, some of it complimentary, some of it not so nice.

One anonymous letter warned me of the dire consequences that would follow if I continued to associate with these “leather-hearted louts.” From these letters, but above all from the conversations with the boys themselves, I soon began to realize that they were virtually an outcast section of the community. Because of their dress, their noisy bikes and their tendency to move around in gangs, nobody wanted them.

Dance halls refused them, bowling alleys told them to go home and change into ordinary clothes. Youth clubs were afraid of them. Even the transport cafe’s didn’t really welcome their custom. After all, a motorcyclist consumes on average a cup of tea or Coke every two hours.

A lorry driver or a coach tripper will spend five bob on a meal and be on his way within 30 minutes. I was becoming more and more convinced that what they really needed was a new kind of club which would combine the personal and friendly touch of a youth club with the free and easy atmosphere of a transport cafe or coffee bar.

My difficulty was that our premises at the Eton Mission were already being used almost to capacity. And in any case, Hackney Wick is such a difficult place to find in its maze of one way streets that I doubted very much if it would meet our requirements.
Eventually I decided on an experiment. It so happened that the 20th anniversary of my ordination was approaching. Instead of having a party for my Parishioners I decided to throw a party for my new friends from the Ace. It was a tremendous success. About 80 turned up, thus proving that the situation of the Eton Mission was no obstacle.


At this point I was fortunate to come in contact with two existing motorcycle clubs, both of which showed real interest in my plans for a new club. I well remember being approached outside the Ace one day by Mick Ingarfield of the Friendly Club, who invited me to HQ at Hammersmith to meet their members. About this time, too, I met Garth Pettitt of the Sunbeam Club. Garth is an astonishing person – he holds some high position in the Civil Service but thinks nothing of arriving at a Mansion House reception on his SS Norton and changing out of his leathers in the gents.
There two clubs were tremendous and I can never adequately repay their kindness in supporting me in these early days. Eventually we decided to make use of Saturday nights – the only time when the halls were not being used – And to launch the new club in October, 1962.

 

 

As a matter of fact it was never intended that it should be a club at all – as witness the affectionate title of the Vicar’s Caff which it was soon given. The question of finding a suitable personality of the motorcycling world to open the club was solved during one of my weekly visits to the Ace. I was sitting at a table drinking tea and showing photographs to a crowd of the lads when I noticed at the next table a gentleman of more than ample proportions.

 

 

How he managed to fit himself into one of those funny swivel seats I have never discovered. He was obviously bursting with curiosity and in the end could contain himself no long. He introduced himself as “Harold Harvey” and asked if he might see the photographs. It appeared that he was a photographer and often went to motorcycle race meetings to take action pictures. He said that he might be able to find us a suitable guest. As a result of this chance meeting we not only secured the services of Alf Hagon on the opening night but the Club acquired its first adult helper.
I would like to pay tribute to all that Bob Harvey has done for the club since its inception. In order to publicize our opening night as widely as possible we prepared some handbills which I took around to places like the Busy Bee, the Dug-Out, Woodlands, Johnsons and of course, the Ace. I never found it easy visiting a cafe for the first time but in the case of the Busy Bee I was lucky.

 

A German TV company was making a documentary film about British youth and asked me to put them in touch with some young motorcyclists. Off I hurried to the Bee to find motorcyclists to take part in the filming. I needed no further introduction at the Bee. We spent hours making the film and the lads had a wonderful time. I shall never forget riding three-abreast down the Watford By-Pass at one o’clock in the morning with a TV camera filming from the back of a van and enormous arc lights blazing in our eyes.


We have to thank the Daily Mirror for another bit of useful publicity at this time. Among my many letters was one from a keen motorcyclist in America. He enclosed a type-written prayer which was widely used by members of his club. I trimmed it down and had it printed on cards, small enough to carry in a wallet. The problem was to distribute it. I have always shrunk away from using my friendship with the boys in the cafes to thrust religion at them.
So I hesitated to hand out the prayer cards myself. Instead I sent one to the Daily Mirror who were kind enough to give it quite a splash. I received applications from all over the country.

 

The most amusing was from an MoT examiner who asked for 50 copies, explaining that he proposed to give one to every motorcyclist who came to him for his driving test.


The article in the Mirror was also occasion of another cartoon at my expense. This time I was provided with a wife – but not a very attractive one. She piloted a sidecar outfit while I perched precariously in a gothic-looking pulpit balanced on the chair. I was pictured with a megaphone, calling out to the passing motorcyclists. The caption read: “I’ll say one thing for the vicar – he’s determined to get through to us.”


Well, the message certainly got through. At our opening that October evening we had an attendance of about 100. They were the first of thousands; and they were in at the humble beginning of what was soon to become the largest motorcycle club the world has ever known.

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Carpy’s 2 cents worth:

I remember reading some of these in the little books that floated about and is so great to re-read this article, I distinctly remember Father Shergolds experience on the North Circular to the Ace, because we lived not far from there in North London and my mum even closer grew up in Enfield Middlesex.

The Rocker subculture came about due to factors such as: the end of post-war rationing in the UK, a general rise in prosperity for working class youths, the recent availability of credit and financing for young people, the influence of American popular music and films, the construction of arterial roads around British cities such as the North Circular Road in Middlesex and North London, the development of transport cafes and a peak in British motorcycle engineering.

And now it flourishes all over the globe and me being proof of that as I am the President of the 59 Club in the O.C. area of California.

We always have fun and if you are into these like we are come check a ride or meet up with us on:

http://www.meetup.com/Carpys-Cafe-Racer-Meetups/

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Insane Meat Slicer Turbo Visor from back in the day!

As a kid, I used to think that this was nuts even then and now, well how frigging crazy is this invention to see, I cannot imaging the distraction from the noise of this circular Buzz saw that screams around at the speed of sound to “Fling” off any H2O that maybe sitting on the visor.

So Today I thought that I would show some of these Crazy inventions and make you smile today, but- in all the many decades of riding I have done back home and all over Europe, I have never encountered one of these.

Were there ever any injury’s from this contraption at all I wonder?

Even the infamous Formula 1 race car driver Graham Hill tried this insane idea out.

 

So I wonder what happened to these things, as these were very antiquated inventions.

So I did a little research and bloody hell, they still frigging make them.

Some use them for Go karting and racing, how mad is that?

So . Pardon the Pun-it has actually come full circle?

 

So keep your eyes out for one of these, but I bet you hear it coming before you see it, it is sure to sound like an old Bi-Plane losing power.

So, what is there now that maybe knocks this into a cocked hat?

How about this then?

Now there cannot be anything more embarrassing than this contraption.

 

So, stick this on your Christmas list.