Tinkicker

A bit of time to kill before it becomes a reasonable time to open a beer, so I thought I would travel back to the the bikers scene from the late 70s up to the early 90s. Born and raised in Dewsbury when it used to be a prosperous mill town without the reputation it has these days. Got my first bike at 12 years old (Yamaha DT125 of 1972 vintage), and rode it with my Dad over on the Shaw Cross pit stacks. It was a popular venue and I got to meet and know quite a lot of older riders who had big road bikes as well as their off road stuff. Dewsbury at that time was bikers heaven with a lot of biker type pubs and nightclubs and a large proportion of people had motorcycles. Probably about 15, by then I had graduated to riding a 350 Bultaco Sherpa T and was suitably skilled enough to be able to offer advice to other, less experienced off road riders; I was invited by a couple of lads I had been giving riding tips to, to come down to a fairly local town centre pub one summer Friday night to view their other bikes, so with some trepidation I turned up outside on my pushbike. I knew it was a biker pub and half expected to either get beaten up, or laughed at. I could not make my mind up which would be worse. Dozens of bikes were lined up outside with dozens of biker types hanging around, and from what I could see through the windows, loads more, obviously without bikes inside getting blitzed. The jukebox was pumping out Led Zep, Rainbow and Sabbath. A heady mix for a callow youth who lived and breathed bikes. Luckily I knew quite a number gathered there and was introduced around. I had a whale of a time. It became quite the Friday night thing for me in the summer. Bikers from miles around would congregate early evenings and start to depart at around 9pm, baiting the watching coppers in the police car parked over the road. They would start their bikes. The copper on hearing the ear shattering blat of assorted 750 fours firing up on open piped Alfas and Marshalls would put down his paper and watch. The bikes would crawl slowly up to the traffic lights outside the pub and stop. The lights would go green and the bikes would gently move away... Copper glances back at his paper... Bwarrrrr, everyone would be up on the back wheel, while the bobby would be nearly snapping the key off in the ignition trying to start his Ford Escort. Off he would fly with sirens and blue light flashing, only to return a few minutes later. I have been told the cops enjoyed it as much as the lads did. I would talk to the lads outside, soaking in the atmosphere and enjoying the occasional pint of shandy they bought me. At sixteen I attended on my Yam Fizzie and was allowed into the bar to purchase my own shandy so long as I went straight outside again. I doubt my mother knew where I was, but I suspect my dad knew. As the years passed I was a regular on a weekend and made a lot of friends. As the drink drive laws were ever more stringently policed, a bike parked outside a pub on a Friday evening became a prime target, and the gatherings dwindled away, although it remained a popular bikers pub and favourite haunt throughout my pre family years. Unbeknown to me, the girl I would eventually meet elsewhere and eventually marry was quite a frequent visitor to the pub and I can sort of remember her, or more her mate who was the spitting image of Toyah Wilcox with pink hair. I was probably too drunk to focus too clearly at the time. We got married and moved away, not returning to Dewsbury for maybe 20 years, although I have driven past a few times on my way elsewhere. The John F Kennedy was still there and I always got a pang of sadness everytime I drove past. I have heard that although it is still there and is kept clean and maintained, it has in fact been closed for a good number of years. This is incrediby sad. I still greatly miss the place well over 20 years later. The very best of times. John F Kennedy. I have quaffed many the pint leaning against those hallowed walls, watching the goings on.

Circa 1978 BSA Airsporter. Not my original gun which languished in my bedroom after I moved out of my parents house and vanished at some point. I guess it got lent out and never returned. I was given this one in a very sorry state. It had languished in a garden shed for many years and was rusty, the stock was dulled and dried out and it did not fire. It would not even cock. A few months later, a few new parts and an awful lot of elbow grease and it lives again. Amazing to think back, as a teenager, I would stick it over my shoulder and saunter down the road to the fields for a bit of target practice. The old lasses on the street would ask if I was going shooting and be careful not to hurt myself. No one thought I was going to shoot them or in any way thought it out of the ordinary. The local bobby would collar me a couple of days later and tell me he had spotted me carrying the gun without a cover on and don't do it again or he would take my name and address and invoke the terror of him calling in and having a cuppa with my parents. He knew who I was of course, but the casual flip of that notebook and pencil coming out of his top uniform pocket always invoked terror. These days, just being seen in the bedroom window with it by a passerby would invoke an armed police response and helicopters overhead. Beeza Airsporter.

A quick peek under the skin. Always a major milestone in any restoration. It is on life support but slowly coming alive. Wiring completed and dash fitted. First sign of life in months.

At least with 31000 miles on the clock, unlike my DT175 with less than 2000 documented miles in 43 years, I am not afraid of adding to them. Original zorst, but to keep everything peachy over winter, I fire it up and run it till the fan kicks in to dry out the moisture collecting under the tank and bodywork, plus ensure clean and fresh fuel in the carbs. This is heavy on the silencer, with moisture collecting inside and promoting internal rot. To this end, I have been keeping an eye out for a period correct, stainless steel, Motad road can, so I can put the original away. Motad went out of business a number of years ago, so new cans are harder to source than rocking horse poo and all the old ones are scratched and dented. Mission accomplished in September and the best part was it was a buy it now or make offer listing. The seller knew it was a VFR can, but did not know which model it fitted. Luckily the pics included one of the box with the motad part number on it. Much research ensued and I eventually came across an old Italian shop listing with the correct part number and among the scattering of italian words "1997" and "VFR750" . Job done. Made offer and got it for a great price.

Ta.

Hope you find it interesting. Full resto finished Xmas Day 2019. I am into restoring bikes to their former glory and the VFR is one of two bikes that I immediately regretted trading in back in the day. 20 years later I remedied that mistake and bought another. I had to bide my time waiting for one with unmarked original paint and undamaged plastics as these are no longer available. Every single system on the bike was stripped, examined, reworked with new bushings, bearings, nuts, bolts and seals as appropriate. The only thing not touched was the core engine. VFR engines are noted for their bulletproof reliability and stills feels nice and tight at 25 years old and 31000 miles. Carbs were stripped and rebuilt as a precaution. As a result, it rides, and should be as reliable as the day it left the showroom in August1997. Some pics. I must be the only biker ever, to have junked Goodridge braided brake hoses and scoured the world for the original parts. A lucky find. Probably the very last brand new chainguard in the country. It appeared on ebay and was very hard won. I shudder when I think my highest bid was twice as much as the original Honda retail price. Luckily the bidding fell far short of that, during the last minute of the auction I was sweating bullets.. Restoring older bikes to as new condition is not a cheap proposition. The only parts at the rear that are not original are the rear sprocket which I can live with, and rear brake hose which is completely unavailable. Had to make do with a black jacketed Goodridge hose. Running out of time and I don't know if there is an image limit on individual posts yet, since I only just joined. I will post more later. A lot of parts just in this one pic. Every one separately sourced. I am not a nutter who takes close ups of bike bits. I had to take a lot of pics like this for the bike to be appraised by a Classic Motorcycle Appraiser to get a true value for insurance purposes. If I got knocked off and the old duffer who did it said its a good job its not a new one, I would be jailed for murder.

Pic of VFR. Restoration completed and pic taken Xmas day 2019. Well apart from the gearlever rubber which got lost in the Christmas post.

I will try. Not sure how to post pics yet but here goes... 1 pic of DT. I will probably post more in the classic restoration thread.m

Hi. Just joined. Bit about about myself. Lifelong biker since 12 years old, apart from a break of 10 years or so. Truck and heavy equipment techie, ex motorcycle techie, ex CBT instructor, ex off road instructor on motox, trials and quads for 12 years. Dream job fixing and instructing on bikes you would think, but when your hobby becomes your job, the hobby suffers. Hence the 10 year break. Total bike burn out. Of dozens of bikes I owned, only two were immediately missed on trading in. I had a brand new Honda VFR750 in 1997, kept it a couple of years, traded it in for the newly fuel injected Honda Blackbird and knew I had made a mistake within 20 miles. The VFR takes some beating. The other was the Yamaha DT175mx. Had a new one in 1979 as I was big into off road at the time. My mates changed direction and we got into motorcycle rallies. The DT was not good for long camping trips and was traded in for a Honda 250N Superdream, which was better for camping trips but did not exactly set my trousers on fire. I got out of the motorcycle trade and it took almost 10 years for my bike burn out to ease and have any real inkling to buy another bike, but it did eventually. So what bike to get. Easy answer. 1997 VFR750. Bought in 2019, stripped and completely restored to almost as new spec. This was followed by a 1979 DT175mx in 2021, again stripped and completely restored to as new condition. So there you have it.