[Shop-talk] changing times...

old dirtbeard dirtbeard at gmail.com
Thu Apr 21 07:04:40 MDT 2022


Hi Mark,

Thank you, a poignant and well written piece for those of us who are
getting older...

Times pass, but with our shops, our tools, and our knowledge, we can keep
these old British bikes, or old Harleys running as well if not better than
they did 50 or 60 years ago. I have my 50 year old BSA Thumper that I
posted the photos and video of, but I also have a 2013 Aprillia 1000cc V4
with all of the modern electronic components. I still ride both of them.
They both are very good at what they do, but I have been imprinted on the
BSA.

In the spirit of shop talk, over the last 50 years that I have owned the
BSA, I have used my tools, knowledge and workshops to increase the
displacement to 600cc, ported the head, installed larger diameter exhaust,
larger valves, a larger 1000 series Amal carburetor, a Weber racing cam,
electronic ignition, modified the dry sump oil-in-frame supply to dual feed
to better circulate and cool the oil, fabricated and a routed pressure-fed
oil line to the rockers to better oil and cool the valve gear, installed a
full-flow oil filter on the oil return circuit, higher voltage ignition
coil, solid state electrical rectification and regulation, improved clutch
plates and stronger clutch springs to withstand the increased power, modern
brake linings arced to the drums to be able to stop the bike at high speed
(not quite as good as dual front disc brakes, but I can lock the front
wheel if I try), modern Avon tires that grip the road and handle extremely
well (deep lean angles), rewired the entire electrical harness with
vibration-proof connectors and larger gauge wire with abrasion-resistant
vinyl insulation, running Motul 10w60 double ester synthetic oil in the
engine, synthetic gear lube in the transmission, etc.  It is not just a hot
rod, it has much improved lubrication, electrical, and braking systems now.

Although this bike is 50 years old, it runs stronger and is more reliable
now than it was from the factory. It can run with the modern sport bikes on
the twisty roads you saw in the video.

Old British motorcycles potentially are the ideal "vehicle" for us to
exercise our tools and our skills in the shop. They are the perfect
"canvas" to paint a masterpiece, and one that you can ride and enjoy for
the rest of our lives.

I recently was riding the twisty hill roads shown in the video when I
passed a young man on a Suzuki sport bike. I later stopped at the overlook
in the one photo and he also pulled up to chat. He "complained" that he
could not hear his engine in order to shift it properly when I was in front
of him because my BSA was so loud. He also said my tires were too skinny to
ride that fast, etc.

Not wishing to deter from his riding enjoyment, I let him leave first so he
could lead and my loud thumping engine and skinny tires would not deter
from his riding. After a couple of curves I passed him again.

I am 68, my bike is 50 years-old, and the young man was on a new GSX. These
old bikes are lighter and have deeper torque,

These old bikes, and these old men, can still ride, and no amount of
electronic wizardry can change that...  :-)

best,

Doug



On Wed, Apr 20, 2022 at 8:31 PM Mark Bradakis <mark at bradakis.com> wrote:

>
> I wish I knew where this came from.  Have no idea who the author might
> be, sad to say.
>
> mjb.
>
> ============
>
> As I watch the Japanese crotch-rockets blasting the circuits,
> I am suffused with a distilled sense of wonder, and I marvel;
> these men and women are so skilled, perfect machines riding on
> perfect machines.  Their bikes are precision instruments built by
> precision instruments, sold in their multitude to the techno-dazed.
>
> About ten years ago, I was out earholing on a norton-racer-road in
> coastal Marin county (north of San Francisco) on my '75 Commando.
> Rolled up to a stop sign.  A guy on an old 500cc BSA thumper came
> around the corner facing me, leaned through the corner, dialed up
> the wick, and thumped on up the hill.  I shut nort down to listen
> to the sound of that long-stroke single haul that hill.  I was
> thrilled; I could feel the sound through the soles of my boots.
> All these years later, when I remember that sound, that fine sound,
> I choke, and tears fill my eyes.  As that quiet thump, thump,
> thump, faded up the hill, me and nort sat and thought of dinosaurs.
> It was a good day to think about dinosaurs, one of those crisp,
> perfect Marin autumn days.  Back then, me and my dinosaur could
> still swat the Japanese flies buzzing around the hills, those
> primordial crotch-rockets, awesome machines that have come to be
> so strong, strong enough to eat me and nort for breakfast.
>
> These ten years gone, I'm now flogging that British oil-bath around
> the Rockies.  But the king is dead (long live the king!), and
> I'm the dinosaur now, breathing the last breath of extinction;
> fading quietly, thump, thump, thump up that hill.  But I wonder,
> where went the soul, where went the art, where went the heart?
>
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