KenLee to Kenley
I was coerced to go to ‘my’ airfield (well sounds the same) with a promise from a certain secretary of a certain Indian Riders Club would hand the hat round for me to attend so I didn’t have to dip too far into my pension BUT did she !!!! Did she H---- !!! Can’t trust women!! Anyway…..
I packed the 1917 Powerplus with tent, sleeping stuff and cooker along with some food and water soluble stuff (peach squash) that’s my ruin!! Sorted out a scenic route, missing out most main roads and surprisingly I didn’t get lost!! Arrived Friday to be greeted by a few Club members who didn’t kick me out so can only say thanks as was a great weekend. Friday was a quiet day and evening, lotsa chatting and drinking and jokes. Meeting new members and old, talking bikes, recent trips, troubles and exciting times.
Saturday woke to another hot day, need a cuppa, thankfully the urn was on and Sybil, Fred and Jo were doing breakfast. I’ll have to teach Fred how to cook bacon (or not). By now there were quite a few Indians, Phil Wright’s 101, Cliff on the 1941 Chief he stole from me, Roy on a 1937 Standard scout resplendent in it’s original Paint that he stole from Ron, Fred’s1947 Chief, Phil on his 1938 Four, Anita on her 1948 Chief, Tim on what looks like original paint/dirt 101, Martyn with a 1951 Brave and 1926 Scout, Carl on his 1956 Brave, Bill and Lorraine on the Chief outfit. Ozzie on his 741 and Andy and Shirl on their 1940 red chief (disguised in black). Apologies if I’ve left anyone out.
Was good to see Bruce and Steph out on their 3 wheels (well 9 if you include their rig). Not forgetting Pauline on my old Topper. Nice to see Ron and Val out camping again but unfortunately not with their sweet little outfit, but at least on two wheels. Plus a few interlopers on various other non American unmentionables. Although the NSU is very nice and the MZ brought back happy memories!! SSHHHHH !!!
Saturdays Run, we have to thank Carl and Pauline for a really lovely ride along beautiful country lanes, some of which seemed to go down to the center of the earth. Can’t believe how long some are. Fortunately no one got lost even though a few hold ups (and someone {no names Ozie}left their post) which included Phil’s 101, the other Phil’s Four although did manage eventually to ride it back after leaving it at a strangers house (mad fool) and Bill’s Chief’s clutch eventually said enough is enough. Even Pauline’s Topper had to have a break but did get back under her own steam (or smoke screen). Ride out went to that well known ‘’bikers’’ haven in the south – Box Hill. There was a meeting of ford owners and their cars, well the shells were old – ish Fords but the engines were somewhat different to original like the late ‘50’s supercharged Cosworth Engined Ford Anglia (the mind boggles), amongst others.
Watered and fed we headed back, again what a lovely route. The countryside this time of the year is really beautiful. Trees still in leaf, fields either being harvested or already done so, covered in birds seeking their dinner , the sun still high enough so as not to blind one when riding through tree covered lanes and then being greeted by it in the clear countryside , There is a magic when riding with others on old bikes that the modern rider can never consume and it’s there whenever I ride with other oldies (yes the bikes as well). Back at camp and all the survivors being joined by those who weren’t so lucky.
Dinner over (thanks to Sybil and others no doubt) and as usual I noticed certain parties already on liquid refreshment!! As the afternoon turned to evening, most retired to the welcome seating of the club house where we were eventually treated??, if that is the right word, to the delights of Cliff and later Fred and much later both on string implements to various tunes and songs. Some of which seemed to get the entire establishment joining in. It was a terrible noise with all the shouting and singing, but everyone enjoyed it. No doubt with the help of some liquid gold!
Sunday morning and Carl with Pauline had sorted out another route. Cliff – ever eagle eyed, between polishing my old Chief that he stole from me (did I ever say that), noticed an important nut missing from my Powerplus (no not me) one of the fork rocker nuts had gone awol but thanks to Pete’s treasure trove on his, er, um, other American bikes deep recesses of his tool box, I managed to find a suitable substitute. Thanks Pete. As the route ended ½ way home for me, I packed the Pp and left from there. Again, what a super route. Lovely little lanes, grass banks, shady trees and sunshine and of course those old bikes. The sights, the sounds, the smells (apart from Tims over smoking 101) takes one back in time to when we (well me) were young and could (as now) only afford an old bike.
Thanks to all those that made this a good weekend, including those that turned up and enjoyed. Sorry Ron for spoiling your early reveille!!
KEN LEE
