So What Happened Next?

My last sidecar racing blog ended with the comment ‘The rest, as they say, is history ...’ so I thought that you, dear reader, might like to know a little more.

The year is 1962, I’m still at school albeit my last year and increasingly barmy about sidecar racing.  Father still had his faithful Norton 16H/Streamline sidecar combination albeit about to be traded in for a blue BSA Golden Flash and matching Garrard Grand Prix chair, we had moved from Crouch End to Enfield where my parents have purchased a maisonette.  There are two garages in the garden one of which is rented out a neighbour a few doors away with a Triumph Thunderbird/Watsonian sidecar combination who just happens to be the secretary of the Epping Forest branch of the Triumph Owners Motorcycle Club.

Naturally it was not long before Dad, Ron and I became friends due to the bike interest.  Those of you from the southern part of England will not need reminding that the Epping Forest branch of TOMCC of which Ron was the secretary, was involved in racing both providing marshals for BMCRC and the Brands Hatch Combine as well as latterly running their own club race meetings at the newly opened Lydden Hill circuit.  

Just before the beginning of the season he asked if I would like to join their marshals, naturally I accepted eagerly because it meant that I could not only get much closer to the racing but that paddock access would no longer be a problem.  The very first meeting of their calendar was a big one, the BMCRC Hutchinson 100 at Silverstone which at that time was a two day international with all of the usual works teams there with many riders from the World Championships and Continental Circus.  What an introduction that was to top flight racing for me!

Shortly after this I saw an advert in the Motorcycle News racing small ads, someone fairly local to me was looking for a passenger.  As was often the case I too could not afford to race on my own account but as a passenger I might be able to do so.  After a few days thought I replied which brought a letter almost by return of post asking to meet me.  It was not long before I met the advertiser, Jim Spencely, at his home one evening, the outcome was that he agreed to give me a try.

Jim took me down to his workshop, well, I say workshop but in reality it was brick built garden shed of very small proportions – so small that the only way that the outfit could be got in there was by having a detachable sidecar which stood on end against a wall.  The bike was alongside and with the two there was barely room for even one person in there which meant that any work on the bike had to be done outside.  It was just as well that the chair was detachable because access to the back garden was via a covered archway between the two adjoining houses. 

The outfit had been built by Jim a year ago with the help of Mike Purdy and Ken Langley, the latter had also passengered for Jim that year but now wished to pursue a solo racing path.  The basis was the well known route of a Norton Featherbed wideline frame suitably modified, the front forks were used as the basis of a set of leading links.  The sidecar chassis was of Reynolds 531 tubing brazed up, the 12” sidecar wheel was from a Zundapp Bella scooter, the whole was bolted to the bike frame for ease of detachment.

Power was by Triumph either 500 or 650cc with a Bonneville head, E3134 cams, lightened rockers, polished and balanced crankshaft, sparks provided by a Lucas competition magneto.  Transmission was through a BSA RR2T Gold Star gearbox and a Norton clutch assembly.  Some meetings at that time had both a 500cc class for sidecars as well as another of 501cc to 1300cc.  Sometimes it was possible to get extra rides by entering both classes achieved by quick engine changes and hot fingers between races hence the two different engines.

One fine Wednesday spring morning saw us on our way to Brands Hatch for a practice day which would be my passengering baptism.  We arrived and having parked up the first thing after unloading the bike was to sign on.  Having changed into my second hand set of Lewis Leathers and spent several minutes lacing up my brand new wrestling boots we set to starting the bike.  Fortunately we had parked near the top of the paddock which was on a slope which made starting much easier.

The motor fired up fairly quickly, I almost fell onto the chair and off we went for a gentle chunter around the paddock.  Returning to our van, an ancient Bedford CA Dormobile, I was delegated as chief engine warmer-upper taking the revs to no more than 5,000rpm.  After some minutes Jim killed the engine so that the spark plugs could be changed to colder ones.  Almost immediately it was time for the first sidecar session of twenty minutes, having donned helmet, gloves and goggles we push started again and went to the paddock top gate where we sat for a few minutes whilst the solos from the previous session dribbled back in to the paddock.

Off we went via the ambulance gate at the top of Paddock Hill Bend, positioning myself over the back of the bike the first impression was one of total noise (we were running on straight pipes then) swiftly followed by a feeling of fear and exhilaration accompanied by a dry throat.  Stayed over the back ready for Druids then eased out for the left of Bottom Bend which was much sharper and deeper than today.  Along the Bottom Straight which was a true straight then, out again for the left of Kidney Bend and Immediately over the back for the second part remaining over the back for Clearways before lying on the floor trying not to scrape my toes on the tarmac.

Up over the back again for Paddock, this time fast into it, felt the bump on the apex then the hand pressing in my back at the bottom of Paddock Hill as I lay on the floor before moving for Druids again. My ears were ringing, with the engine vibration it sounded as though every nut and bolt was loose and frantically jangling, I just hoped that was not so!

Several laps later the chequered flag was shown signalling the end of our session so we completed another a little more slowly before returning to the paddock.  When I had taken of my helmet and gloves I spoke to Jim but nothing happened apart from a dry little croak because my mouth and throat was so dry, Jim’s wife Jill handed me some water which was very welcome.

Jim asked me what I thought, I said that it was just so fast and exhilarating yet sort of frightening.  To my total astonishment he said that we had been cruising with the engine not going over 5,500 rpm and the next session it would the full 7,600 rpm!  This dispelled my idea that we had been shifting at race speed and I wondered what the next session would be like, would I be able to hang on and not chicken out.

There were a few jobs to be done on the bike, the main one was to seal an oil leak from the timing cover, well it was a Triumph after all!  Lunch time, tea and sandwiches then check everything again before our next outing.

First lap out we went fairly gently before stretching the throttle cables coming out of Clearways.  Looking through the chair nose I was trying to judge when to get up for Paddock, obviously earlier than before as we were now seriously shifting.  Feeling a tap on my right shoulder I only just made it for the entrance to Paddock but we got round OK.  My driver was right about this time being much faster than our previous session, initially I was having a little difficulty in timing my moves through Kidney Bend but after several laps it was getting easier.

Soon, too soon for me, the session ended.  Back in the paddock I felt completely exhilarated, on an absolute high with a big silly grin on my face that I had actually done it.  Jim seemed reasonably happy with my efforts and gave me a little advice saying that he was happy to have me aboard for the season.

That was the icing on the cake to the perfect day but there was a potential problem looming up.  At that time the legal age of consent was twenty one which I would not be for another two years, entry forms for those who were technically still minors had to be countersigned by a parent or guardian giving their permission.  Father was unaware of my day out today as a virgin passenger, despite his enjoyment of racing I was certain that he would never sign an entry form allowing me to race.  Could I, or did I want to wait until my majority?  Hell no, the obvious decision was that I must forge his signature which is what I did for a forthcoming race at Brands Hatch.

Several weeks later I was in a high state of excitement and nerves as we arrived at Brands Hatch for a Saturday race meeting.  Practice passed without any problems except that I felt quite sick before we went out due to nerves, something that I hoped would soon pass with experience but unfortunately it never did.  Right until my final race a good few years later I was in the same state about fifteen minutes or so before going on track generally spending much of that time in the toilets, friends use to remark that I had shares in a toilet paper company.

Race time, we made our way out through the ambulance gate with the rest of a full grid, drove around the circuit before forming up on the start line.  Engines cut, pull bike back on compression, pull goggles down, try to control breathing and nerves, the eerie thing was that there was total silence then, watch the starter, flag dropped and push, count five steps and Jim would drop the clutch, take two more steps then leap aboard and fling myself onto the sidecar floor.

The first noise of which I was aware after the flag dropped was the pattering sound of about  some fifty pairs of feet followed a few seconds by the spluttering of the first engine to fire, then there was an absolute crescendo of noise as we all got away.  To the side and in front of me there were bikes jostling for position into the first bend, it seemed so close that I was sure that at least some would touch going into Paddock Bend.  We were safely round then the battle for position at the hairpin began with bikes taking all manner of lines on the approach.

Safely round again after we actually passed someone then onwards, ever onwards in a mad rush of noise, wind and exhaust fumes.  Eventually we saw the chequered flag, as we went back through the ambulance gate a friend held up ten fingers and thumbs indicating that we had finished tenth, I could not believe that we had done so well!

Came our second race of the day, we started middle of the grid, away we went but something was not right as we were being left behind by most of the others.  There was a nasty graunching noise coming from the gearbox, it seemed as though there was some sort of selection or clutch problem.  Eventually Jim found a gear and we accelerated away in pursuit of everyone.  Again there were  problems, this time changing down for the hairpin, we scratched round there in a heap and headed downhill towards Bottom Bend still losing ground.

Into second gear, no problems, ease out for the left as the change to third was made.  More graunching noises and revving of the engine due to false neutrals.  We were now approaching the corner too quickly for a bike that would not drive.  Suddenly I was shocked to see the track disappearing away to my left before I looked ahead to see that we were not going to make that bend.  At that time Bottom Bend was much sharper than today, thankfully no Armco on the outside but instead there was quite a steep drop of some twenty feet or so – suddenly we were airborne flying through the air with greatest of ease!

It is often said that at times like these everything goes into slow motion and it did.  I was totally aware of everything around me in crystal sharp detail as I wondered whether to get back in, stay where I was or abandon ship.  The decision was made for me as the bike landed upright with a tremendous thump, Jim eventually bringing it to a stop without further misadventure.  The engine died, we got off, I had twisted my back on landing and it was a little uncomfortable, my driver had banged both knees on the front edge of the kneeler trays but apart from that we were both alright.

It was then that I realised that we had been lucky especially as Dad did not know what I was up to, the parental wrath should I have been hospitalised was best left to my imagination!  We were towed ignominiously back to the paddock where investigation eventually revealed that the clutch centre nut had come loose hence the grinding of gears and false neutrals.

End of a truly fabulous day for me and it would take several more for me to come down from the high of my first race.  From initially having been filled with trepidation I was eagerly looking forward to our next race in a few weeks time.  But more of that later ...