1952 ~ 2002: The End of an Era?
By David A Hardy

Much happened in the intervening 30 years, during which the only thing I knew about motorbikes was that the Japanese has taken over the market, that prices had risen so much that you’d have to add a nought to what I paid for my T21 and then double it, and that Triumph went out of business, then made a come-back, though with very different designs. Back in Birmingham, divorced from Christine but now happily married to Ruth, I could do little except occasionally comment: “If I could afford it, I’d still like to have another motorbike – preferably a Triumph.” But that was obviously out of my reach. On my 60th birthday I actually did tour round the local bike shops, but saw nothing that I would really want to have, and that was within my price-range.

Right: David Wallace with his Bonneville

Sometime in 2000, Terry, the Harley-Davidson-riding husband of my space-artist friend Jackie Burns, told me that Triumph were now making a virtual replica of their old Bonneville, but of course with modern technology. But the price was around £8000. . . In 2001 I was 65, so officially ‘retired’ (not!), and I had begun to think, “If I don’t have another bike soon, I never will.” In early December Ruth got ‘flu quite badly, and on a Saturday afternoon I went to get the weekly shopping (“First time ever,” Ruth says, but that’s a damned lie!). I crossed the Stratford Road from Waitrose to get some ‘flu medicine from the Chemists opposite, and outside was a biker with a big Honda, loading up his panniers with shopping. He saw me admiring it, and was still there when I came back, so I stopped to talk to him, mentioning that I had always fancied having another Triumph, but couldn’t really justify the cost. “Oh, what you want is a Kawasaki W650,” he said. “I saw one in Carnell’s a few months ago, at about four grand.” A Kawawhat? Where? I had never even heard of Carnell, which turned out to be a motorbike superstore at Digbeth, let alone the Kawasaki W650.

But next day I was at Carnell, who didn’t have this model in stock (but must have had every other – it was an Aladdin’s Cave for bikers. I say ‘was’ because, having changed its name to Riossi, it has just closed down.) But they were very helpful, gave me a brochure, with pictures, and he had been right ­– the W650, especially the blue-and-silver one, really does look like a Triumph Bonneville; With Ruth’s blessing, I ordered one, and on 21 December 2001 (just in time for me to call it a Christmas present to myself) I drove there with Ruth to collect it. She came back in the car, and I donned the gear I had ordered, and went to find with Mike, the trainer (about the same age as myself) with whom I had booked three hours tuition.

I went outside with Pete, my salesman, and there at the kerb stood my new bike. It was gleaming with chrome, metallic blue on the tank, and beautiful – and big. Remember, I had only ridden a 650cc machine once, and that was 30 years ago. Mike came out, and told me to sit astride and “start her up”, which I did – with an electric starter, no kick-starting (though it did have one, for emergency use). It sounded great, with a deep-throated roar; like a real motorbike, not one of these buzzing-gnat Jap jobs (even though it is Japanese). Then he asked me to ride around the car park for a while. 

The first big difference was that the back brake was operated with the right foot, and the gear lever (five gears, not four) with the left – the opposite to what I had been used to in the 60s. But the throttle, clutch and front brake were the same, so I lifted my boot-clad toe-cap and clicked into bottom gear, gradually let out the clutch and applied some throttle, and moved smoothly off, without even stalling! I slowly circled the car park, passing through some quite narrow spaces, and came back to Mike. “Well, I see you haven’t lost your sense of balance,” he commented.

He kitted me out with a fluorescent yellow over-jacket, earphone and microphone, so that he could give me instructions during our ride, and together with a young chap who was about to take his test, we drove off, into the main roads of Birmingham. In some ways it was a scary as that first time. In others, it was as if I’d never been away – I could have been riding after a break of only months. Pretty amazing really, and I was quite pleased with myself. We rode around areas of Birmingham that I have never been before, and by the time we got back to Carnell it was dark. Mike said had done well, no real problems though I did tend to take the corners a bit wide and should watch that. We went in and had a coffee, and Mike and I reminisced about old British bike names, Villiers engines, SU carburettors and such, no doubt to the amusement of our young friend. Mike gave me a ‘cargo net’, for strapping luggage to the pillion seat. “She doesn’t just look like a Bonneville – she sounds and feels like one,” I commented. Mike agreed, but added, “Except that she won’t drip oil all over the garage floor like the old Bonnie!” Wisely, the Japanese have split the crankcase horizontally instead of vertically.

By the time I went outside to ride home, it was very cold and there was a layer of frost on my saddle. But the roads had been wet after earlier rain – not the most appealing of surfaces. (To make matters worse, I had been told the tyres are coated in a protective layer of silicone when new, and this reduces their grip. It takes up to 100 miles for this to wear off.) But out I rode into the rush-hour traffic, at one point slipping along the inside of a stationary jam of cars and feeling quite superior! I went home via Ladypool Road and the balti quarter, so must have passed near the site of Shovelbottoms, from where I got my T21. I got home safely, and opened the garage doors. I’d had to get the left-hand one working again, after many years of disuse. There was plenty of room in the garage for a bike (though not enough for a car bigger than a Mini), and I’d tinkered around with the electric light so that it was now on the wall and could be used to plug in a charger, which I would need for the battery if the bike wasn’t used for a while. It was winter, after all, and I made no secret of the fact that I would now be a ‘fair weather’ biker!