'Rene' - June 1st 1947

This was the morning of our first wedding anniversary and I was promised a day at Skegness arriving in style on the back of the Rudge 500,1933 motorbike. Did I forget to mention it had upswept exhausts? I was very familiar with "Rene" as she became affectionately known and had competed with her during my courtship. It was a hard battle but eventually I went down the aisle - but she stayed home. Actually, she stayed at home quite often, mainly due to motorbike health problems rather than laziness. She also required petrol, although not much considering the noise her engine made when it finally sprang into action.

This day "Rene" had a tankful of beautifully coloured pink petrol that actually was destined for a farm tractor but during the post war years a few irregularities were bound to happen. - With thanks to our farm friends! It was a cloudless day and clad in our flying suits and leather helmets we looked more like aircrew waiting to be rescued two years after the war had ended.

Would "Rene" spring into action? Yes she fired well and I was allowed to settle onto my most uncomfortable pillion that was little more than an aircushion bolted to the mudguard, but apparently fitted the lines of the bike better than a clumsy comfortable pillion. Mind the upswepts, these could cause very nasty leg burns, I was well aware of that. My husband settled into his driving position, equipped with an ex army gas mask case, containing the necessary repair gear, most importantly copper wire! Oh yes, and sandwiches. Perhaps we could have an ice cream if and when we arrived at our destination, just for an anniversary treat.We did arrive, but as so often happened on the East Coast, it drizzled on and on and we decided to leave early and visit friends on the way home.

 

We should have realised Rene had behaved extraordinarily well. That dreadful sound of misfiring happened and sent a mixture of excitement and fear. She simply fizzled out in the middle of nowhere. It was dark and few cars or signs of life were about us. We pushed on (and I mean push) and came to a closed garage but managed to find the owner at his house. Imagine the indignity when he offered us an old caravan for the night and assured us we were not the first young unmarried couple to occupy it. This, on our first anniversary!

I suppose we were very thankful for small mercies - we must remember this was 1947 and a mobile 'phone would have been a very handy tool. How times have changed.

We woke up the next morning and admittedly there was a certain excitement in the air. Where were we? What happens next and how were we to get home. Oh for youth. More important how were we to get "Rene" home. No other way, but to cure whatever ailed the strong willed beast. It would have to be stripped. How often had that happened? Fortunately the problem became quite obvious and between the ever-useful tools a knowledgeable husband and the copper wire we hobbled home. I was promised a better second anniversary but sorry to add that I have no memory of that event.

"Rene" had stable mates, a 1930 and a Matchless 1929. Neither of these ever matured into real roadrunners and had to be abandoned. "Rene" eventually had to be sold for a mere £5.00 to enable us to buy a pram! No - it wasn't the caravan that brought this about.

The bike was a great challenge, unpredictable yet socially accommodating for the time and place. If a youngster had a motorbike he was never without friends. I do hope however my grandsons will stick to cars. The bike is no longer King of the Road. Neither is it a challenge with electric starters and all mod.cons. The feel of the wind and rain on ones face for a very curious reason was in fact pleasant and unforgettable.

But we also left the horse and cart behind. What will it be like 65years hence?

 

 

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