Bored? Racer!

Scrap frame, sprung saddle and a Villiers motor (here in 2F autocycle guise),
and you're well on the way to a midget board racer. This one spotted (not by
me) at the Hotrod Hayride

I know, I know… it's a bit old-hat this midget board racer building. Pretty much everyone with a set of Poundland  spanners and their grandma's old Atco has knocked one together in the 10 minutes between arguing over football formations and ordering the next pint (do football enthusiasts discuss formations anymore or is that just Arthur Askey in The Love Match? Super movie by the way and stage play before it, especially if you like steam engines, 1950s Britain, Shirley Eaton and Danny Ross aka Alf Hall. "What's yer name lad?" "Alf ’All", "I'll catch yer if you do…" being typical of the exchanges therein. But I digress).

I've got a motor or engine, depending upon whether you get hot under the collar over what motorcycle power plants are called, and a sprung leather saddle. I've also got a hankering to build a board racer.

Not much to start with, admittedly.

The thing is, I like board racers, I like building stuff and, as detailed above, I've got a motor and a saddle doing not very much to earn storage space beneath the bench.

Villiers 1F: small, beautiful

The motor's a Villiers 1F which, frankly, is an easy way to begin cos the tinsy 98ccer is a complete two-speed, hand-change, unit construction power plant that's an eager performer in an attractively small package (a bit like Konnie Huq without the power plant stuff). Alternatively, I have a selection of Villiers mower engines in a variety of guises and configurations but then there's the difficulty of jury-rigging a clutch, no gearbox…and on and on blah.

The saddle is leather, sprung, and looks about right. Sitting down and moving forward then, are sorted. All I need now are frame and forks, wheels, white balloon tyres and upside-down handlebars – shouldn't be too difficult…

Sitting down is sorted…

Actually the greatest obstacle is not having any pipe-bending equipment which means adapting a frame to look right will be a matter of welding up odd bits of piping cut at angles to get the required curves. Not ideal, but there's not a lot of stress on the components and if it breaks up at 20mph going round the B&Q car park after they've shut up shop for the evening…well, it's hardly the Los Angeles Motordrome and I've probably had worse spills on my bicycle.

Watch this space.

The Black Rider – all aboard for derring-do in deepest Dorset!

It's 1953 and America is thrilling to, and not a little disgusted by, the gloriously anarchic, devil-may-care outlaw bikers as depicted in The Wild One, all dusty open roads, Perfecto black leather, hep jive talk and road captain hats worn at dangerously rakish angles.

Banned in Britain of course. Our roads are damp or frosty even in summer, leather is largely for the patched shoulders of roadmenders' donkey jackets, road captain hats are for bus conductors and we don't like 'slang' at any price, especially not the transatlantic variety, and those who try it come off as agonisingly awkward and uncomfortable (presaging British porn of 50 years or so later).

What we do have in common is a love of motorcycles and especially, but not exclusively, the Triumph variety. So fast forward a year to 1954 and here's the Brit answer to biker movies: The Black Rider, a pale and sickly cousin if ever there was one, featuring a sprinkling of c-list contract players of the day (with Lionel Jeffries and Kenneth Connor in early roles the exceptions), a thin plot about spies and miniature atom bombs guarded by a ghostly monk astride a BSA Bantam and a 'handsome' leading couple mounted on a lovely Triumph twin.

"I say Jerry, that's a damn fine mount", "Thanks old boy,
and the bike's none too shabby either!"

In fact, the movie's not half bad and anyone nostalgic for a lost era of helmetless ’50s outings will certainly spend an enjoyable 90 minutes in the company of cub reporter (and erstwhile army dispatch rider) Jerry Marsh as he foils the unpleasant plans of a lot of beastly foreigners bent on mischief with remotely-triggered atom bombs.

Set in the fictional Swanhaven, the locations are actually Swanage, Purbeck and Corfe Castle in Dorset and there's plenty of biking action including classic 1950s club trials and gymkhanas and a lovely insight into the 'compete sunday, ride to work monday' ethos of the day, when the luxury of two bikes was an impossible dream and you simply used your road-going machine with an entrant number stuck over the headlamp. Oh, for a return to what our American cousins cheerfully call: 'run what you brung'!

The glorious English countryside…

…and motorcycles, what could be better?

"Spotted any bleeding-heart tree-huggers Bert?" "Not this morning Sid,
I'd give it about another 50 years..."

"I'm afraid I've run over a few dozen small animals and decimated the
wild flower population Sid…" "Don't you worry about that Fred,
it's all good clean fun!"

The movie features a range of bikes including an Enfield Meteor, various Triumphs, BSAs, AJSs and Ariels, an Excelsior Villiers 250cc twin, and two scooters which I'm guessing are Douglas-built Vespas.

Douglas Vespa and Excelsior twin side by side

Egg & spoon race ’cycle style

There are some interesting registrations to be seen too including a brace of Warwickshire WDs on consecutively-numbered machines PWD17 (Jerry's Triumph) and PWD18, and a sprinkling of Birmingham OCs and OKs.

Jerry and his MC club chums prepare to foil Johnny Foreigner's wicked ways

Watch it here

NB Thanks to the forum members at Enfield parts supplier Hitchcock's for locating the source of the movie.