Newsletter 5 - VSOC C13 The RoadRunners

November 2005
Number 5
It’s not a
Virago!
BUT I BET YOU’LL WANT
ONE
PURCHASING THE VeloSolex 3800 FROM ALAIN
Note Alain’s arm – he had just fallen off his Vespa
Whilst on holiday in France
near Royan and being a little
bored with the beach I went
looking around the local bike
breakers yard there I spotted
a VeloSolex wreck. It looked
very interesting however a
voice in the back of my head
said keep your hands in your
pockets - don't buy it unless
it is a runner. The bike had
whetted my appetite I asked
the guy at the shop if he
knew any others for sale that
were runners. He said that I
should travel to the next
village and look up the guy
who managed the Tractor
shop. Anyway to cut a long
story short the bloke in the
breakers yard knew of one
for sale from an enthusiast a 1968 3800. That’s how I
meet Alain, an engineer and
passionate restorer he had
had at least three including a
never been used 1972
VeloSolex 5000 blue model
with white walled tyres!
We did the deal, toasted the second life of the machine with the local brew and
transported it home on the back of my camping trailer along with the official French
documents. For the next few days we all rode it round the campsite bringing a smile to all
the local French. Now the next problem for me was to register it in the UK with an age
related plate. To get some more information I joined the National Autocycle and
Cyclemotor Club and spoke to the very helpful Chairman David Casper, he put me in
touch with the Essex Chair Paul who recommended me to a garage (Wickford
Motorcycles) for an MOT and who understood old bikes. However when I arrived with the
bike in the back of the trailer I wasn’t prepared for the hoots of laughter from the pair of
mechanics from the testing* station. Comments such as you “can’t expect me to test
that” and “go to Halfords they might be able to help you” followed me onto the test ramp.
Anyway they did a great job even allowing me to adjust the back break and fix the
headlight before completing the test.
Test done the next stage was to get an age related plate and customs document again
the Autocycle Club provide me with invaluable information helping me fill in a customs
import form then a registration document. Any way it all went through and I am now the
proud owner of a taxed, insured and roadworthy VeloSolex 3800 that I can buzz around
on! It brings a smile to myself every time I ride it. Last week I took it up to the tea hut at
Epping Forest to meet Colin I had a crowd of about eight blokes looking. Colin took it for
a ride around the car park knocking cups of tea out of other biker’s hands whilst they
looked on in astonishment. A police car also gave me the thumbs up on the way home.
Next time you see me on it ask to have a go – it's an experience that you won’t forget!!
Andrew (editor)
*I recommend the testing station – a friendly honest service with a couple of guys who
were great fun!! Wickford Motor Cycles Unit 2a Whitesbridge Farm Billericay
Essex CM11 2UL Tel: (01268 271596).
The VeloSolex has a very interesting history described it below:
The V€loSoleX was in continuous production from the mid1940s until the early 1990s and it is the world's second most
popular motorcycle. (The most popular is the Honda stepthrough - a machine that hasn't achieved quite the same cult
status as the V€loSoleX)
When production of the VSX ceased in France, two other
versions appeared. One was built by Hongdu in China, the
other made in Hungary. The Hungarian manufacturer ran
into financial difficulties. However, Impex, the French
importer, set up a new company, Impex Hungaria SARL,
directed by Georges S•f•r, to restart production. Currently
(2005), the "Mopex" is being assembled in France in the Pas
de Calais d€partement from a mixture of Chinese and French
parts. . A few alterations have been made to comply with
modern safety and emission requirements.
While Impex did have consent to use the old name, the
current company does not have permission to use it, hence
Bardot & SoleX
the new name of "Mopex". As already mentioned, the
in the 1970 film,
humble, black V€loSoleX has achieved something of a cult
Les Novices
status. (Yes, they were produced in other colours but these are
considered a trifle showy; to be chic a VSX has to be
black.). Why the VSX should become such a cult is hard to define. Is it its eccentricity, its cinema
appearences (ridden by Jaques Tati, Brigitte Bardot, ... ), or just its indefinable Frenchness?
French utility transport seems to attract devoted followers; the Citro‚n 2CV is another example in fact, the dedicated Ami takes the passenger seat out of his 2CV so that he can use it to transport
his V€loSoleX.
Courtesy of Les Amis du V€loSoleX and Bryan Hollinshead from the National Autocycle
and Cyclemotor Club
GRUMPY
GOES TO PAVLOVA’S PARTY
Boo hoo no rallies local, this weekend, but as you know we'll
go to the opening of a letter if there is something in it for us, so
have toothbrush will travel, someone mentioned party.
Set of in glorious weather for a little known hamlet of Cotton (near
Stowmarket) in deepest Suffolk. It is actually a centre 10 party but
anyone can go depending on numbers.
The party was held in Michael and Frances's back garden, with a
fifty foot side drive maybe 12 feet wide, enough to hold 25/30 bikes
and a couple of trikes. There was a large marquee area at the rear
of the house between the double garage with one bedroom flat
above. Then camping for 20 odd tents in the orchard behind, I
never even stepped into the house but that looked imposing even
from the outside.
Just shows you what you can get when you move out of London.
We arrived at midday; beers all round as others turned up, didn't
know a sole.
Anyway got the tents up and the BBQ was ready, all sorts of meats
and kebabs ably cooked by Michael on his todd. We got the
impression that he likes to keep busy. Began to chat and get to
know members, a couple of whom were the original band that
started the VOC with Brian. It was interesting to listen and see what
their thoughts are about the club now. Started to pee - rain heavily
So got sides on marquee then a short (ho ho, only if you go through
the fields, its bloody miles by road) walk to the local 16th century
Inn with its own swimming pool. Fortunately Michael was running
us down in his car. Soon every body had loosened up and we were
all chatting away famously. Andre even tested the pool out, (in
trunks I may add) in pouring rain.
All too soon Michael was back to ferry us back for the evening
entertainment. By this time (I must point out that as I had no backup
I was being very well behaved, as is why I can remember) others
were beginning to get the worse for wear some high jinks were
occurring. The evening barbecue of chops fish potatoes and all
sorts of salad was accepted with glee and washed down with
lashings of ginger beer.
We ended the evening watching glam rock(this was in the
seventies, for you young ones, are there any?) videos being
projected onto a wall. Morning time and he was at it again (Michael)
barbequed breakfast cereals toast scrambled eggs, the works.
I may add his wife Frances was working just as hard behind the
scenes in the kitchen. Well a few sore heads, but tents to make and
journeys to do.
We were thoroughly well accepted by a lovely bunch of people and
I hope we have the opportunity to go again one day, if they
continue, as small as it is, as I felt that made it so much more
intimate. Michael and Frances you worked your socks off and well
done, I only hope you had a bit of time to join in. One further
mention is necessary re the exemplary behaviour of Bentley our
little four-legged friend, owned by Rosie. I will apologies now to
Bentley for forgetting his breed. Next report will be after the "Wrong
Way Round" Tour ending at "The North Star Trek"
Snappy Answer #1
A flight attendant was
stationed at the departure gate
to check tickets. As a man
approached, she extended her
hand for the ticket, and he
opened his trench coat and
flashed her. Without missing a
beat she said, "Sir, I need to
see your ticket, not your stub."
Snappy Answer #2
A lady was picking through
the frozen turkeys at the
grocery store, but couldn't find
one big enough for her family.
She asked a stock boy, Do
these turkeys get any bigger?"
The stock boy replied, "No
ma'am, they're dead."
FORGET THE “LONG WAY ROUND” OR THE “WRONG
WAY ROUND” JUST GET ME HOME!
After another brilliant Netherlands Rally, attended by Colin, Malcolm and Sue, and a large
contingent of English members of the club, Colin was left alone in a field formerly occupied by tents
of all sizes, to be feasted on by the mosquitoes which had been the bane of everyone’s life for the
weekend. Colin not being as sweet as some was blissfully left alone, by the mosquitoes at least.
He found someone to talk to, as always, and amused himself for two days whilst he waited for me
to come across on the Tuesday evening, to join him in Dunkerque.
That was my first hurdle. Driving down to Dover on my own, and then crossing the channel “Mind
the oil on the deck” was something I heard so many times, by the time I got onto the blooming ferry
I was on tender hooks. Sharing the ferry with so many lorry drivers was HELL, as you can imagine,
but I overcame it.
After meeting Colin safely, we returned to our humble abode, our tent, which was to be our home
for the next week.
The next day, the beginning of our adventure, found two GPS systems not working, rain falling
down in torrents, and me regretting ever saying I’d do this.
After a stressful time packing up the bikes, which were packed to overloaded, we embarked on our
first journey, to just south of Paris.
We got one GPS going, mine, and so I led, and the Peripherique in Paris was just wonderful.
Blooming French drive like maniacs, and expect all bikes to go like greased lightening, and to avoid
them, and those who know me well, know I don’t drive like that.
Arriving at the campsite, (a naturist one – so tell me why we had so many clothes with us! – it’s a
girlie thing, the girls amongst you will understand that one), we set up and opened our tins of beef
bourguignon, and enjoyed the view, which was limited, not many naturists in September, only us
wallies ! Yes, the imagination is probably running riot about now eh?
Rain again the next day, why does it always rain on us? Either we sit in the tent all day, feeling
sorry for ourselves, or we go out. So Versailles was the order of the day, in rain wind and traffic.
But there were good times, the palace was lovely, the food was exorbitantly expensive, („7.00 for a
simple sandwich) but the palace was lovely.
We moved on after a couple of days, to aim for another campsite in the Pyrenees (another naturist
one). Meeting hardened bikers, who were made up for the middle of winter, who were coming up
from down south, made us slightly concerned. “It’s blooming freezing,” they said, their chattering
teeth almost drowning out their words of doom. Great, we thought, but hey, we can cope.
Heading for the mountains, fully loaded, fully dressed for Winter, we got off the motorway, thinking,
it’s not far, we’ll be okay, our trusty GPS machines will find the way. Well yes, they did, but
unfortunately, the campsite was in an area cold enough to freeze your nuts off (being hardened
naturists – hang on a moment maybe not so hard) Not conducive to a fun packed holiday, so that
idea was shelved as we made our way back to the motorway.
The sun went down, the clouds gathered, the petrol gauge was on zero, and we were up in the
mountains, at 1500 metres, and above the tree line. There were no sheep, it was too cold, and
people came out of their houses to watch us pass. Then Colin’s GPS fell off the bike due to the
high altitude, the sucker gave up the ghost. How bad can things get? Believe me, worse than that.
We found our way back to the motorway eventually, by which time it was past 7.00 and we had
nowhere to stay, we were hungry and so tired.
Pulling into a petrol station, we stopped to get coffee. I went to the loo, and I can honestly say that
the vision that greeted me in the mirror was the most frightening I’ve seen. Every mile covered by
our horrendous journey was etched on my face. Red eyed, red faced, my hair flat to my head in
the perfect shape of my crash helmet, I thought “THIS IS FUN.” Sitting down to do the necessary, I
saw a piece of what I thought was dirt on my leg. Trying to brush it off was fruitless so I leant down
to look closer, only to see the little legs of a tick waving in the air as it burrowed its way into me.
ROCK BOTTOM had finally been reached. Or so I thought.
There were no rooms in hotels, and after another 3 hours of driving through winds strong enough to
try to force me over the barriers of the motorways, particularly when driving over the viaducts which
are numerous, my arms ached, and I had the surreal feeling as I looked at my hands on the
handlebars, of this not being reality.
We eventually stopped at Montpellier, after 500 miles drive, from leaving Paris that morning. We
had to unload the bikes, completely, which we did, filling up the room with bags and all, and just
feel into bed.
It did get better after that, thankfully. Driving down to Cap D’Agde the next morning, was in brilliant
sunshine. Another naturist campsite, this time in the heat. The tent went up, the wet clothes were
drying, and with that song, “Hello mother, Hello father, here we are in Camp Granada” for those of
you old enough to remember, ringing in my ears, we sat down to drink tea in our little camp.
We stayed there for a full week. Going out for days, the best of them was when we visited the
mountains again. Going uphill for me, is a piece of cake. Give me a hairpin bend, going up hill and
I’ll take it in my stride. Give me one going down, and put gravel on it with a coach on my tail, and
I’ll scream for England, and did. The bike to bike would not work properly, but believe me, it did
when I was panicking “Get me off this bloody bike” “ get me home” “Get me down this bloody
mountain” “I can’t do this” and other expletives, I’m too much of a lady to repeat.
On our way down in the dark, we had crossed a bridge apparently, although we were both too tired
to realise. All we could see was a row of red lights, flashing in sequence like something out of
Close Encounters of a Third Kind or something like that. So when we got to our destination, we
realised that bridge was something of a local sight. It was an amazing bridge, spanning a valley
floor, some two miles long. Well worth seeing. It’s called the Millau Viaduct.
We also visited the region in France, where Roquefort cheese comes from, and as we drove along
the road the smell of cheese pervaded our nostrils.
Cap D’Agde is yet another naturist place, but a whole complex, comprising shops a hotel, campsite
and clubs and discos, as well as fronting one of the best beaches around. It is a place well worth
visiting for the liberal minded amongst us.
We left for home again, after a week of relaxing. I had come to the stage where I flatly refused to
stay in the tent any more as the mosquitoes thought my blood the sweetest thing going, and the tan
was being overtaken by the redness of swollen areas where the little buggers were biting me, and
we moved into a chalet. We travelled through rain again, to Veziers, where we literally fell into bed
again, after another 450 miles, and leaving the next morning early, drove through fog, wind and
finally brilliant sunshine, to join the ferry about 24 hours earlier than anticipated.
We pulled in triumphantly to the King and Tinker (well believe me it was a triumph for me, if not for
Colin), at 7.45 on the Monday evening, to be congratulated like returning heroes, by our
compatriots who were full of praise for both of us for our journeys.
The Arctic Circle is not for me, I have to say, although I know Colin still wants to do it and I’ll be
glad to help him organise it, but I’m not going. On reflection and hindsight being a wonderful thing,
whilst I was glad to be home after the two weeks (which was not so much a holiday as an
experience), it was something of an achievement for both of us, and I am glad we did it.
If I ever considered it again, which let’s face it I would have to do before I get too old and decrepid
to do it, then it would be for three weeks, off the motorways, with hotels booked all the way, and no
tents involved. I’d have to wear clothes of course, but that’s fine.
WHAT AN ADVENTURE MEL AND COLIN – I’M VERY JEALOUSE; MAKE SURE YOU DO IT
AGAIN. YOU’LL REMEMBER THIS FOR A VERY LONG TIME!
PERHAPS YOU BOTH SHOULD CONSIDER THE TRIP BELOW
Chris Fitzakerley sent me this from Another Way Round check out their web site.
Any help we can give Chris for UNICEF will, I be sure be much appreciated.
Colin, Grumpy, Fleur I sure you could do it!!
Dear Andrew
I am writing to you with reference to a European Bike Tour in 2006 titled ‘Another Way Round’. The
tour is being run to raise funds for UNICEF and is hoping to rise in excess of „20,000 in total.
With reference to your club would you be kind enough to give the event a mention please in your
events section or other appropriate area please? I have attached an e-flyer and an official event
logo for you to use should you wish and more information can be viewed on the official site:
www.anotherwayround.com
Any assistance would be hugely appreciated. Should you require any further details then please
get in touch.
Kind Regards,
Chris Fitzakerley - Another Way Round - [email protected]
Fish and Chips run Saturday 1st October
Southend or Sufferend as Dave prefers to label this popular sea resort – mainly because he was
dressed in his summer gear. Nice body wear, but all those drafts brrrrr!
A healthy group of bikers congregated at several points and incredibly on time and eager for a
supper of fish and chips. It was a clear ride down to the sea front after meeting more of our merry
clan at the half way house and no problem parking.
Before most of us had even dismounted, Colin was off sprinting to the nearest fish and chips
restaurant shortly followed by most of the group behind him. I noticed Gary and Kevin had a
different agenda as they marched past the posh gaff and entered a popular caf† instead. It was
packed out but the place was buzzing, warm and friendly. We were soon beckoned to join the
main group but being stubborn as we are we decided to wait here for our supper. Actually the
waitress was really bossy and she recognised Gary and Kevin as regular visitors. The food was
worth waiting for, although Kevin made the diners at his table wait a very long, long time for their
meal, as he wanted a slab of steak. We didn’t mind the wait as the banter with the waitress kept us
amused until we got our meal, which tasted extra special after the cold ride down.
Dave was on form too making observations on cleanliness but we dragged him out before he
attempted to close the place down (he’s an environmental health inspector!). He was only joking (I
hope) as we plan to visit the caf† again.
The fireworks were a spectacular sight especially as the dark sea formed the back setting. When
all the stars had burnt out, we were herded towards the funfair with the rest of the crowd. Some of
our members, not satisfied with the constant battle with death defying cars, chose to test their
nerves on the funfair.
First it was the ‘children’s waterslide.’ We waited patiently to see our private viewing of the brave
souls who wanted to play on this one! The rest of us waited anxiously searching the long ride down
for our friends soon, Kay and Jessica flowed down sedately followed by Kevin and Fran’s love
boat. However, we all let out a gasp as we soon came to realise that Gary and Colin had been
squashed into one children’s dinghy and were hurtling down the slide. Our disappointment is that
we did not think to film this event as they shot past all of us at great speed when suddenly the
dingy spun half circle and violently tipped out our friends into the water. Lucky they are made of
hard stuff, (well that’s what they told me although I would rather see the bruises).
Then it was on to the dodgems where we watched John get a pasting from Fleur who’s a wicked
rally driver. We were observing her leaning skills for future reference. Maybe we should not have
encouraged her, shouting from the ringside like gladiator supporters.
Some of us braved the roller coaster, which appeared rather high in the darkness, the drops over
the sides far more beastly. Well for me anyway.
Once round was enough but the ride entailed two
runs.
All too soon it was time to return home. The ride
home was cold but we were within the safety of the
group and the thought of a warm home and hot cocoa
pushing us onwards.
The best bit for me was seeing Colin and Gary thrown
into the water. I have to admit it was horrifying to
watch as it happened but it kept me giggling for a few
days. Hey guys how wet did you get and did you get
any bruises?
Another successful ride out.
ANJI (MOUSE)
ABOVE AND BEYOND THE
CALL OF DUTY
A big thanks to Andy for sorting out new tyres for my
Ninja - After 3 yrs and just tyres 8000 miles and with
the first MOT due any day the original Michelins
tyres had given good mileage but the Ninja needed
new rubber. After reading an article in the Motor
Cycle News (MCN) I decided to go for the Metzler
Sportec Ml. My mechanic gave me a supply and fit
price and then I spoke to Andy. His price saved me
enough money to make it worthwhile going to his
tyre centre in St Albans.
I arranged a fitting date with Andy and although he
was taking his annual leave but not going away, he
very kindly offered to come into work to supervise
the fitting of the new tyres. I phoned him when I was
about to leave work and, gave him an approximate
arrival time. He was waiting there by the time I
arrived. The tyres were fitted without any fuss and I
went on my way. Immediately I could feel a.
noticeable improvement in the road holding even
though it was pissing down with rain. Thank you
Andy very much. If other members need new tyres
then give Andy a call.
Mark.
Good service indeed Mark – Hey Guys don’t forget to give Andy a call. He understands
bikes, gives good service, and a good price – Give Mark a call for his number on the
membership list.
Club T Shirts- Sweatshirts
Sales are going very well, raising so far more than „100
for club funds. Prices are
‚ 10 for T Shirts
‚ 12 for Polo's
You can also buy Sweatshirts but the prices are to fixed,
ask John at the next meeting – remember all this is going
towards the rally next year.
VSOC Centre 13
Road Runner’s Diary
UPDATED 20th October 2005
Always check the web site before stetting off!!
Rideouts
Reading Toy Run Sunday Dec 4th
Possible ride to the Custom Bike show in
Belgium 26-27th Nov (stay 1/2 nights)
Christmas party – still to be decided
Still need more ideas for this / next Year
Regards
J.R
REMEMBER JR IS ALWAYS LOOKING FOR NEW IDEAS
DON’T HOLD BACK LET HIM KNOW!
CONTACT ON - [email protected]
Two contrasting pictures at either end of the biking
world, my son Stuart belting round the campsite in
France on a 49cc VeloSolex that cost Є100 and
Andy & Brian take on the best at the Orange
County Chopper Show, Brighton on a Harley based
Custom Chopper that would probably have cost
„30,000 to customise.
Centre 13 – Roadrunners
DIRECTIONS FOR THE KING AND TINKER PUB
THE ROADRUNNERS MEETING VENUE
CONTACT LIST
Fleur Albrecht - Centre Rep
99 Kimptons Mead
Potters Bar
EN6 3HY
Tel: 01707 659346
Mobile: 07770473616
M25, junction 25, south bound on the
A10 to 1st set of traffic light,
filter right hand lane, turn right
into Bullsmore Lane, right into Bulls
Cross, 1st left into Whitewebbs Lane,
pub on left hand side just after
cricket ground
[email protected]
Barbara Glass - Treasurer
99 Beresford Road
Walthamstow
E17 4LAW
Tel: 020 8531 4882
Mobile: 07904 582437
[email protected]
Gary Big - Webmeister
9 The Cobbins
Waltham Abbey
Essex
EN9 1LH
Tel: 01992768773
Mobile: 07976305081
[email protected]
John Rafferty
Runouts & events
71 Seafield Road
Arnos Grove
N11 1AR0
Tel: 020 8368 4602
Mobile: 07956546960
[email protected]
Andrew Mutter
Newsletter Editor
60 Dover Road
Wanstead
E12 5EA
Tel: 02089896009
Mobile: 07775890815
[email protected]
www.roadrunners-vsoc.co.uk