Gone Forever. Friday Nights Were Never The Same.

[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.

 

 

 

Edited December 10, 2022 by Tinkicker

[Bianco2564]

Nice write up.

Reminds me of a pub I occasionally visited in the early 80s, the Fox inn in Lutterworth.

https://www.fox-lutterworth.co.uk/

They had an upstairs function room that always had a sweet, herb like aroma.

Now the place is a family pub, if only the walls could talk.

 

[skyrider]

i used to go to the Dog and Partridge in preston every weekend and spent some hours in there over the years but now sadly is no longer a bikers pub 

[Ian Frog]

I wonder if there are any "Bikers pubs " left actually?

I have very fond memories of the Railway Hotel in Purley from the late seventies early eighties sadly very much gone now as closed in something like 89 lol.

Cheers

Ian

[Gerontious]

I went to a few back in the day. But found them to be horribly cliched. Though that’s my 2022 self thinking. At the time I just didn’t fit in. Didn’t want to fit in.  If I ever… though it’s rare now, catch a whiff of patchouli oil. Or hear iron maiden then it takes me back to that time. Which just about sums up why I found it unbearably tedious.

 

these places have been replaced by coffee shops and cafes. The days of riding to a pub for a few pints and a bit of permanent hearing loss are consigned to history. Thankfully.

[MikeHorton]

Things change and move on I guess. I'll be honest I'd rather go somewhere I can grab a coffee or tea and something to eat preferably if it's got a bike type shop too even better! 

[Ronnie]

1 hour ago, Gerontious said:

I went to a few back in the day. But found them to be horribly cliched. Though that’s my 2022 self thinking. At the time I just didn’t fit in. Didn’t want to fit in.  If I ever… though it’s rare now, catch a whiff of patchouli oil. Or hear iron maiden then it takes me back to that time. Which just about sums up why I found it unbearably tedious.

 

these places have been replaced by coffee shops and cafes. The days of riding to a pub for a few pints and a bit of permanent hearing loss are consigned to history. Thankfully.

I know what you mean.  I've always been addicted to motorcycles but I've never been a "Biker"  The old Groucho Marx thing applies... "I would never join a club that lets people like me in !"

I'll jump on a motorcycle gladly but never a bandwagon.

[Pie man]

HOME | Scotchpiper was my local biker pub. Although I have never classed myself as a 'biker'. I, Like @Ronnie won't belong to any organization that would have me as a member I liked looking at all the old bikes, and in summer they have BBQ's, but you always get the idiot who liked to speed along, up and down the road pulling wheelies, now that puts me off. 

 

[Bianco2564]

Stopped here once en route back from Matlock Bath, seemed to fit the image of a bikers pub if you get my drift. A bit rough around the edges, but a certain charm. 

https://www.vicbikerspub.co.uk/

 

I hardly drink any more, certainly don't drink & drive/ride.

 

[Tinkicker]

4 hours ago, Gerontious said:

I went to a few back in the day. But found them to be horribly cliched. Though that’s my 2022 self thinking. At the time I just didn’t fit in. Didn’t want to fit in.  If I ever… though it’s rare now, catch a whiff of patchouli oil. Or hear iron maiden then it takes me back to that time. Which just about sums up why I found it unbearably tedious.

 

these places have been replaced by coffee shops and cafes. The days of riding to a pub for a few pints and a bit of permanent hearing loss are consigned to history. Thankfully.

 

 

I beg to differ..

 

 

 

 

 

[skyrider]

what's happened to ogri and his bird just don't see them anymore