The magazine for fans of classic and twinshock trials, motocross & enduros

Anno Domini

It’s still the same face that it was in 1979, okay, so there’s a little more ‘rose tinted’ hue about the reflection, but it’s the same face that has allowed me to pass for 19-and-three-quarters for the last 30 years or so… even if my 26-year-old daughter tells me different.

Naturally the face is attached to a head and because I wear a cash helmet a lot the hair is flattened down regularly, but I’m sure there’s still the same amount present as there always was… though my barber recently pointed out that these days part of the charge for cutting my thick head full of lush wavy hair included a search fee. The head this luxuriant, black hair is on is attached to a body and one that, at this point in time – the end of July – is still creaking from an incident during the pre 65 Scottish.

A slight change in the route from previous years meant a ride down Loch Eilde path, a trip I’ve made several times in years gone by. Leaving the last group of sections before the drop down towards Kinlochleven, in the glorious sunshine that typified the ‘Scottish’ this year, and just as the descent got steep, I managed to catch the gear lever on the side of a rut and ended up in neutral. The combination of the weight of the bike, the weight of the rider plus the descent meant acceleration was damned quick. Stomping on everything to slow down – there are some pretty serious drops in that area, ones that would be best not to go over – I slammed the front wheel into the side of the rut and went over the bars at something like a pace and landed on the bone dry highland scenery with all the grace of a sack of spuds dropping off a lorry.

When I actually was 19-and-three-quarters I’d have bounced up and been on my way with hardly a break in progress, but in 2011, I took a moment to admire the view… well, a couple or three moments actually.

While I was checking the view, I also checked out the Britton chassis just to see if it was okay. You see, thanks to a combination of motorcycle sport and a number of years on the tools in the building trade my body seems to creak a bit these days, though I’d swear that I’m in the same shape I was in 1979, even though the six-pack perhaps has a bit more packaging on it now…

 The passing of years and its effect on your point of view depends on where your ‘point of view’ is coming from. For instance someone in their 20s might view 30 with horror but a rider in their 50s will look back fondly on the same age.

As I creaked into the finish of the pre 65, photographer Bill McKeown – who knew me when I was 19-and-three-quarters and bore the brunt of some winding up from us lippy kids as he was nearly 30 at that time – took great delight in getting his own back, reminding me how we kids used to laugh at creaking ‘old blokes’ in trials.

There are things you can do to, if not stem the passing flow of age, at least keep the body working.

Of these the ‘just riding the bike regularly in whatever bit of the sport is your thing’ is the best way. Although that’s not always possible given the constraints of modern life, most of us can do a little more if we think about it. For instance, a recent conversation with a top trials rider from a few years ago brought forward the comment that he only had a ‘push’ lawn mower rather than a fancy power one.

When more than one of us asked him why, the answer came back “that’s part of the training... and I get a tidy lawn at the end of it.”

This could certainly be part of the reason why the star of yesteryear can still put up a decent performance... this and the fact he’s still a blooming good rider.

I was further reminded of the passing of time when up in Northumberland for a Hare and Hounds when the only bike available was my long suffering Triumph twin.

This poor old motorcycle, that came my way for £180 in 1981, has been used in all sorts of events and is largely a road bike with knobbly tyres on. Though fitted with alloy rims and devoid of lights, it’s still only a few pounds lighter than the quoted roadster weight and I’ve made no other concessions to weight saving… yet.

As I hauled this lump of a machine around an eight or nine mile course I gained a huge respect for the ISDT riders of the 1950s and 60s who spent six days on  machines like this and looked just as fresh at the end of it as they did at the start. A chat with just such riders showed that they had plans and strategies all worked out for the event. In that respect I was the same as the Gold Medal winners, though my strategy was a lot simpler than theirs.

All I intended to do was not fall over as it might prove difficult to pick the bike up.

Maybe I’d best start admitting to being ‘over 21’?

Tim Britton,
Editor