I can remember being taught to ride a bike by my older brothers. The majority of these lessons took place at a remote edge of the local park, in the evening, when the park keeper had gone off duty! The grass was short and did me little harm in the inevitable crashes, which preceded my mastering of the art.
I soon became proficient enough to be allowed to ride my bike to school, or to the village shop when required. You will be aware from my story about Jill Sage that this also conferred a certain freedom of choice when deciding which route to follow when going home after school!
I became a keen cyclist in my early teens and bought from my brother Ron, a Raleigh Clubman sports bike. This had dropped handlebars and lightweight wheels, with racing pattern tyres. After a short time in my ownership I decided to have it re-sprayed, so it was duly stripped down and taken to Mr Palmer’s shop in Bromley. The painting process took several frustrating weeks, but at last I was able to rebuild the machine, using Italian brakes, a new racing saddle, new 48 tooth chain wheel and a 16 tooth fixed sprocket at the rear. I used this 78″ gear for all my riding, as I was never able to afford a derailleur variable gear set.
I would meet up with various friends in the evenings and we compared notes regarding our bikes and all related subjects. We then went off on a usually agreed circular tour of about ten miles, before finishing up at the local off-licence for our favourite soft drink. The most popular among our group was Cantrell & Cochrane Club Orange, which we consumed in prodigious quantities.
On my bike in 1951
In the three years leading up to my National Service I often went off alone, especially on Sunday afternoons. This usually turned into an exploratory tour of the Kent countryside, from my home at Orpington. On each of these adventures I probably covered between thirty and forty miles, arriving home a bit late for tea! I discovered for myself, many a pretty village and sleepy hamlet and certainly learnt my way around the centre of Kent, usually covering the area between Maidstone, Tonbridge and Sevenoaks, before heading back home.
I never took a map, preferring to dive down the narrowest lane to see where it led me. I would then find a different route back to “civilisation” and add this to my store of knowledge. I also went devoid of money, food, drink, tools or a puncture repair kit! Fortunately, I never needed any of them.
On one journey, though, I was very glad of the cycling cape I had taken with me. I went one day with a friend, Tom Melhuish, from Orpington to Folkestone and back. This was a total distance of about 140 miles, which we covered in the day! On the way home it started to rain and that was when the cape came into use. Cycling under this waterproof cover was extremely unpleasant, but it would have been far worse without! That was by far the greatest distance I ever achieved in one day, and I certainly had no desire to repeat the experience!
A popular activity in the early 1950s was cycle speedway. Although I never took part in this, I, along with most of my mates, was a keen supporter. These clubs sprang up like mushrooms all over the country, and the inter-club rivalry was just as intense as that to be found in motorcycle speedway. Each Saturday night saw a coach or two arrive at the track, carrying the visiting team and their supporters.
These clubs had usually come into being when a group of keen lads approached a local farmer, or other landowner, with a request for use of a piece of derelict land and a barn for use as a clubhouse. In the case of our local team, Cray Tigers, the owner of Cockmannings Farm, had provided the space and the barn and someone, possibly he, with help from the club members had laid out the site. An oval, cinder track was laid, with wire-netting fencing all round. A starting gate was erected and there was a public address system, over which race announcements were made and popular music of the era was played. “Twelfth Street Rag” was played so often, that Tom Melhuish was heard to remark, on several occasions, that it would soon wear right through and start playing the other side!
A stone-built barn was used as a clubhouse, where we could buy refreshments and stand around the large open fire, which blazed at one end. The local girls were attracted to this venue as well as the lads, and it was far enough away from the built-up area as to present no problem to local residents when the music was turned up. It was really great fun and there was seldom any trouble, except, perhaps when the deadly enemies and rivals, Wembley Lions were visiting. Things could then get a little heated.
I have just put in a search for “cycle speedway” on Google and I find it is still going strong in Britain and abroad.
In the late 1940s and early 1950s I sometimes went to Brands Hatch, usually with a family friend, and with older members of my family. It has become a source of much smirking by my children when I tell them what the circuit was like when I first knew it. But I don’t care and I shall say it again here! When I first went to Brands Hatch it was a motorcycle grass track, roughly kidney shaped and just one mile in length. What’s more, the riders circulated in the “wrong” direction, i.e. anti-clockwise.
I saw many a rider in those days that were at the start of successful careers, or were coming to their “sunset” years. Most of these were only known to the cognoscenti of motorcycle racing but one at least, became a household word in later years. The names some may remember were Johnny Locket, Ernie Lyons, the Seymours on their blue-painted Douglas outfit with matching blue leathers, Eric Oliver and his sidecar passenger Dennis Jenkinson, who later became world sidecar champions and many others.
Numbering among the old guard were the Moto-Guzzi riders from Sevenoaks, Angus Herbert and Jack Surtees on his Norton sidecar outfit. There also came on the scene during this period the young son of the last-mentioned, one John Surtees with his 500cc Vincent “Grey Flash”. I don’t recall his being spectacularly successful at the time, but he certainly made a name for himself in later years. He is still the only man to have been world champion on both two wheels and four!
The circuit was later given a tarmac surface and came in line with the rest of the world by running clockwise. I will not attempt to give a history of the venue because I don’t know enough about it, but if you are interested go to www.westkingsdown.net, which will tell you all the facts.
See also: www.ealingtimes.co.uk – George Smith recalls the time when a rhubarb field in St Mary Cray became the top cycle speedway track.