Our Parents Was Also Bikers...

I knew there was something odd about you

 

My family... do you use the term loosely

 

VERY

 

What an awesome thread! I have thoroughly been enjoying the photos and stories. No one else in my family is much interested in motorcycles. My two younger brothers rode around on a little mini bike that the older of the two (who went on to become a mechanical engineer) built when he was a kid. He even welded the frame with the help of our dad. My younger brother's two boys rode dirt bikes for a while but have now parked them in the garage and are more interested in other things.

One funny thing I did learn however... Not too long after I began riding I was talking to my mom on the phone and telling her how much I was enjoying motorcycles and motorcycling. I rather expected her to take the attitude that it was too dangerous and she was worried about me and did not understand nor approve of my choice. Imagine my surprise when she told me that she had her motorcycle endorsement! Mind you, she told me this when she was 74 years old and had never told me about the MC endorsement before that conversation! Decades before, she and my dad and a friend of theirs who lived on a nearby farm decided it would be a good idea to get their motorcycle endorsements. I'm not quite sure why as none of the three of them had a motorcycle. But my mom was quite proud of the fact that she received the highest score on both the written and the range part of the exams. To say that I was stunned about her later in life revelation is an understatement. I know there's a photo around somewhere of Mom on the back of that neighbor's sons Harley – I need to track down that photo. And frame it!

 

Wish I had a photo of my dad from the 60s on his Lambretta
He has them somewhere locked in a box I think

 

Bikes have run in the family for generations, all kinds.

 

My Ma loved my bikes and would have loved to ride

 

Me and the Misses, mid 1970's. I bought this T150V new, and after trying to 'fly' it, it came back together with fork tubes 4-inches over stock.

 

Niether of my parents wanted me to ride a bike. I bought a basket case Honda CB72 rode to work on it on my 16th birth day, my younger brother rode to work on his on his 17th birth day we both still ride bikes 49 years later. Guess I know how they felt now both my sons riide bikes.

 

I think all CB72's must have been basket cases about that time. A mate of mine also started with a CB72. He had to rebuild the top end before using it. To me, it seemed like it had all the power of a single stalk of limp celery.

 

My grandad Ted was a very good trials rider. Won the seth king bowl (which is on my bookshelf!) at Hillsborough Motor club before and after WW2. Pre runner to the jack wood which now is a qualifying (or was?) for the nationals. That was on a DOT I think. His last road bike was a triumph. My old man started with a new hudson, BSA and then a number of velocette's. He rode mainly VFr's for 20 odd years before he had to stop. I did trials too for years but never as good as Ted !

 

They might only be 250cc but they could still beat most brit 500cc/650cc in the traffic light GPs .

 

my grandfather usto ride the wall of death in the shows my father had a Harley. the picture is my uncles bike and chair .I remember he had a four square aerial under the house we usto play on when he wasn't using it ,my brother rode bikes my cousins also and I have had bikes since I was 15 also added a picture of my cousin gold wing with chair and purpose built bike camper trailer

 

And a Square four under a house.

 

My Father had a 350 Douglas that my Mother made him sell it after they married :-( Neither of them would let me have a bike so i did it behind there backs until i left home at 17 When i was 27 i got married and my Wife tried to make me sell my bike, sadly our marriage only lasted 8 months Now i have a partner that rides her own bikes

 

I posted this on another thread:

My dad was a genuine petrolhead with a passion for motorcycles.
He started drag racing in the early ’60s with a bike called the ‘Silver Flash’ progressing on to his HRD/Vincent powered ‘Speedway Special’ where he won various class wins. Apparently, he was a bit of a drag racing ‘Celebrity’ at the time.
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In the mid 60’s he started to build a Chevy V8-powered BSA as the British rival to E J Potter, the legendary Michigan Mad Man.
It won the A-Class championship 3 days before I was born (20th August 1967) at Santa pod.
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The frame was its week point and over the winter months it was replaced with a modified Sunbeam frame, the engine was highly tuned and was now running on methanol (apparently “well over 400bhp”) with a direct drive that turned the rear wheel at 104mph at tick-over. To get more grip the motorcycle rear tire was replaced with a car wheel using a cross-ply tire from a RR Silver Cloud.
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The new bike would return to Santa Pod in April 1968 to set the UK A-Class record.

The journalist Steve Robson reported, “when Les fired it up, it was the most amazing sounding bike in the world!”
He was sponsored by Castrol & Lucas which in those days meant free oil and tune-ups - that's it.
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Later he entered the Brighton speed trials. They had recently relayed part of the road and there was a large bump just off the centreline.
The bump made his bike swerve to the lef and he hit a bus stop at such a pace that it exploded (the piece of concrete in the photo is the largest bit remaining).

He stumbled to his feet and threw his glove to the floor as he had broken his fingers (and a hairline fracture to his ankle) and was rushed to hospital.
The Speed trials continued and the same thing happened to the next guy Ian Ashcroft, but he was not as lucky as my father and he sadly lost his life. The speed trials came to a halt and was canceled.
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In the meantime, my mum (with me, as a baby in her arms) rushed to the hospital and was stopped by the press who had seen the accident.
They told her about the fatality and because of my dad throwing off his glove, incorrectly reported to her that he had lost his hand.
She obviously freaked out at this information and gave my father an ultimatum. It was his family or his bikes.
He never raced again.
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30 years later, I rode to his house on my new Ducati Monster and asked if he wanted to try it. He’d not been on a bike since the accident.
It took a bit of persuading, but he eventually jumped on and started it up. He then span the rear wheel (generating balls of smoke) popped a wheelie and shot up the road…. It never left him.

 

I've put this on for @Mrs Visor, I'll leave her to do the explanation