For me it seemed inevitable, my uncle owned several British bikes back “in the day” and from a very early age I was privy to stories of speed and danger shared with me by my Dad. Not that he was a biker but his older brother was and he was fanatical about them and I guess for me this is where it all started. My best mates Dad owned an “outfit” and I soon found myself a passenger in the sidecar, no helmet or anything and I loved it. I was about four years old! My love for motorcycles grew from there and over the years it was my mates Dad, Colin who taught me about bikes, the mechanics of them, showing me how to strip and rebuild engines; 2-strokes of course; the smell of castrol-R stirs memories for me even today. Friday nights at “Colin and Vera’s” we’re magical where friends gathered for the weekly ritual of a “Chinese takeaway”collected usually by my best mate Ian and me on our bikes, usually with Dave Shaw riding pillion with Ian, I can’t recall who I rode with……and of course afterwards yet another viewing of “On any Sunday”, classic!
Saturday evenings was usually speedway night at Cradley Heath: “the heathens” supported so well and the crowds that gathered were amazing. To stand on the bends getting covered in gravel for us was a highlight of the evening…..great days!
Me and my mates would walk to high town Cradley Heath to look into the shop window of the motorbike shops; Harry Lees, opposite Ivan’s chip shop (thanks PJ for the reminder) and “Sidaways” bike shop. Norman “nippy” Sidaway the old guy who owned Sidaways, I can still see him dressed in his flat cap and brown storeman coat, perched on his ladder “whistling” as he tried to find a part for a customer amongst the labyrinth of cardboard boxes displayed on the layers of wooden shelves. Each box was roughly marked-up in black with their contents and price. It wasn’t at all a visually enticing display but it was practical, even despite the fact he couldn’t locate the part but “it’s here somewhere” he would mutter.
It was in Harry Lee’s bike shop that I discovered a Yamaha poster and on it were several TZ race bikes. Being around 11-years old and fanatical about bikes all I wanted was to be the next Barry Sheene! I dreamt of owning a race bike and then at age 20-I found myself proddy racing a Suzuki X7.
It handled like crap, but went pretty well. Then the day dawned of the Yamaha 250-LC and it was game over for the X7. Not that it mattered as I had already bought myself a Yamaha TZ250E race bike. I was so eager to ride it I couldn’t be arsed to get the replacement fairing painted. My first race outing was at Snetterton in 1983 and into the second race the engine seized as I leant over into the sweeping right-hand bend after the start line. As I banked over the rear tyre broke free, almost overtaking me as the bike stood up. I somehow managed to grapple it off the track without crashing, which was a first for me! By now I was usually on my arse sliding down the track, something I did far too often so much so that my old gaffer, Ray Round at the Kwacker Centre in Cradley Heath nicknamed me “Crasher Baker”. I had this displayed on my bike helmet, to “psyche out other riders” though it did nothing to help me wins races! It turned out the problem with the TZ was the left hand carburetor rubber had split letting in an excess of air which buggered up the fuel mixture and caused a partial seizure; another trip to the spares shop on Monday for pistons and rings. Just thankful it wasn’t Sidaways as I’d probably still be there today as the man with “no name” searched the cardboard boxes for those parts which as he always said “now, I’ve definitely seen these somewhere”, whistling badly as he went about his business.
