Being invited to write an introduction feels a bit like alcoholics anonymous. (I imagine)
Born in 1956, my father named me Iain with a middle name of Angus. Hated the name Angus when I was at school – (feared I’d be mercilessly teased if classmates found out). As I’ve grown older I’ve grown to really like the name and now wish it was my first – it’s a brave hearty, macho, muscly, beardy name … and what’s more you can wear a kilt and be proud. Anyway that’s where Angusa10 comes from.
I live in the Meon Valley, Hampshire , England, United Kingdom.
At the age of 17 (1973), I left school and needed transport for work. I fancied a motorbike, a Honda [the Japanese invasion was just starting] - like all my mates. Step forward my father who agreed I could have a bike – BUT - it had British. (He had carted the family around in an Ariel Square Four /Busmar Double Adult Sidecar combination for years). So he took me to the British Motorcycle Owners Club, did some networking and then gave me a choice. A Triumph Tiger Cub or, a motorbike and sidecar and then, an ultimatum - just the latter. I ended up with a 1953 BSA A10 650 Watsonian Monaco outfit (my first bike was 20 years old!). £200 it cost me. I hated it – no street credibility whatsoever. What reputation I had with my peers - was now in the gutter.
But, like my middle name it grew on me and during my teenage years we had some amazing adventures. I rode it to work. I learned to do stunts on it. While the other apprentices would go on about “wheelies” and “angles” and grounding exhausts, I learnt to “feather” the chair (getting the wheel up) during left handers, slide the right handers and a particular party piece in the college car park (during day release) was to put it on right lock open the throttle and do a 360 - spraying everyone in gravel. I become very patriotic and defended Bessie’s honour to the hilt during the ribbing I got.
Rode it everywhere, took the cat to the vet, my dad to interviews… everywhere - but it had a drawback - an outfit wasn’t much good for pulling the girls which at the age of 17 was becoming increasingly important for me.
On the way home from work one night and oblivious to the engine noise, it blew up. (Payback for the abuse I guess). Left side small end bearing gave out, oil starved, rod broke, barrel skirt, valves. I was on a dual carriageway trying to figure out what to do (No AA membership or mobile in those days). Then, the funniest thing -another outfit was coming down the other carriageway towards me. He saw me. Turned around at the next roundabout, came back on my side of the road. A brief look at bike and he confirmed it was fu**ed and produced a tow rope. He towed me the 10 miles home. When we arrived I went to offer him his petrol money. He said “No – just make sure you do the same for someone else - someday”. And he was gone … just like Batman – never even took his lid off. (Note - that day still hasn’t happened! – I’m still indebted)
Now my father was an aero engineer . He helped me rebuild it. I enjoyed the experience immensely and began to understand how it all worked from a mechanical perspective rather than an user / abuser, learned the parts, the jargon, learned the threads, the spanners. Understood the engine and Bessie’s heart .
Put it back on the road. Failed my driving test (Examiner sat in the chair and made me do the car course together with hill starts etc. Ba**ard. Took the test again. This time prepared by taking the seat out of the sidecar - filled it with bricks - told the examiner it was ballast and he couldn’t sit in it. Did the motorcycle test course. Passed
Took the chair off, learned to ride it solo. Enjoyed all the freedoms that my peers were enjoying. Still rode it to work everyday. Raced the other apprentices on their 250s - beat them. Began having some success with dating girls - met my future wife.
I really enjoyed the solo experience and now wanted something sportier. Bought a Triumph TR6 650cc and resolved to rebuild and restore Bessie.
So aged 19/20 I took it apart, stored it in boxes. Saved it for a later date
Now 64, kids raised and gone, retired. I have been pottering with the old girl for some 5 years now. I’ve totally rebuilt it. Repainted. Stainless wheels, fixings, lovely armours stainless goldie exhausts . Spin on oil filter, Regulator etc etc
She is running well – just some teething problems to resolve
I have no intention of restoring the bike to concours, I just want it as I had it. I think you can tell from the above that this particular BSA A10 is quite special to me. I still have the sidecar and my Triumph which is being restored in parallel.
Good to be in the forum, there is some great experience to draw from. For me its not just about the riding but also the restoration journey that is important to me and I'm already impressed with the help I have had so far.