We eulogise about The Good Days, but were they really as good as we like to remember?
In 1956 I was at a Cadwell Park race meeting with Charlie Freeman when, after the racing had finished and the paddock was emptying, a man came along, puffing, panting, and pushing his pride and joy of a super big twin sports motor bike.
“Charlie!” said he, he’d known Charlie for quite a while and bought this very bike from him only a week or two before. “Charlie, can you help me out and take the bike back to Eckington in your van?” “What’s up with it?” said Charlie.
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With a snarl and much bad language the unfortunate owner said: “Some b—–d’s stolen my carburettors!”
Needless to say the bike was somehow squeezed into the van and transported home.
If the b—–d in question is reading this, then I hope that he’s proud of himself.
Happy days, but not for everyone!
Graham Baldwin, S/W France
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