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 ...
