Rebel Without Claws

Yes, it's sad but true. There's still a bit of rebel in me. Even worse: I'm thoroughly convinced that there will be a bit of a rebel in me right up to the end. Grow old disgracefully is my motto and I intend to stick to it.

I'm thinking about my old motorbike as I write this. It's all fuelled up and ready to go. I love that old bike. It's older than I am, temperamental, hates the rain, has to have the side cover off and oil squirted on everything before each ride, and I spend more time pushing it than riding it, but... yeah! There's nothing like that feeling of riding along a country road, being able to smell the scenery and feel the wind.

There's also the bugs [especially if you have an open face helmet], pot holes in the road and surprised motorists who can't believe what they're seeing...!

I have a 1958 BSA D5 Bantam 175cc. A rare old bird -- like me. There are plenty of Bantams around, but very few D5s ever made it out to Australia. In the 10 years I've been riding mine, I've never seen another one road registered and in fully restored condition.

Now all the classic bike enthusiasts are smiling and nodding. Suddenly it all makes sense: the pushing to make it go in the morning, the cloud of blue smoke, the backfiring and the gear slipping at least three times during each ride.

Yes, classic British bikes. They're all the same. But they have character. I wouldn't swap my little bike for any Harley.

It sulks in the shed all winter and every summer it comes out, gets a good rub down, an oil and off we go.

The only trouble with riding it about town is that it only has 3 gears which makes me have to go too fast and too slow to negotiate some turns without having to drop down the speed and putter around, or race around at a hair-raising speed. Also, it has no modern attachments like indicators. That means I have to ride around with my arm stuck out hoping modern motorists know what that means. Most of them do, but I did come across one younger driver who thought the stop arm signal was a right hand turn signal. Moron! Go back to school and learn your road rules.

All that aside... there's nothing like the smell of two-stroke in the morning.