Rad Day.

January 24, 2011

I was invited to the Air-Cooled M.C. Christmas party down in Mornington about an hour and a bit down the coast from Melbourne. The gathering took place on one of the boy’s properties, a property filled with all toys desirable and packed with a fun park of tracks and trials courses to test the toys. It even has a small speedway. What a fun day. Read the rest of this entry »

44′ BSA M20.

January 24, 2011

It’s been a while friends, I have ventured away, life’s fete has popped up ducks and I have been steadily firing, sometimes hitting and sometimes missing. Anyway…

From this blog, it may seem like my brain is a 2-stroke at full noise, I assure you it isn’t. However, I do like things that go bang and how can you look past an object of such undeniable beauty? I ask you, dear chickens: how? Read the rest of this entry »

67′ Norton Atlas.

October 13, 2010

Marc’s new toy turned up the other day, and I was frothing at the bit to welcome the new arrival. Take the plunge to see more pictures. Read the rest of this entry »

1950 Triumph Tiger 100.

September 13, 2010

Beauty, in this case, is definitely in the eye of its beholder. And yes, Lords and Ladies, the lad beholding the beauty is me. There are some very special bits on this little wonder, and when she’s done, she will be low, loud and bare. I will track the process and post evidence here.

1949 Triumph Tiger 100.

September 13, 2010

Blam! That’s my new toy, of which I will get better photos and post them here in time futuristic. The plans I have for this one, oh the plans!

A Thing of Rare Beauty.

September 8, 2010

One word friends: Triumph. In particular, the pre unit Triumph. What a great little doco! From the intro where the toff narrator slags legs as an outdated, unreliable and inadequate mode of getting about to the orchestral Tom & Jerry busy-in-the-factory music; this legendary piece of cinema makes you long for simpler times. Times where parts for these things were in abundance and a full rig only cost you as much as an oil change today.

Yes, my friends, there were no heel-clickers or superman’s in those days, just a factory Triumph and twenty blokes scrambling aboard, doing 15 on weedy football field. Even the horses look like early Disney scrawls, compared to the wild, thoroughbred, track-devourers of today.

The Triumph factory would be my first stop on my time machine trip, where I would twinkle-toe around the factory to the busy score, scooping up bikes and  parts until the time transmogrifier was stuffed near bursting.

Forgiveness Please.

August 25, 2010

Sorry for the tardiness in posts, I have been at war, the enemy: the ordinary. Here are some photos from the trenches.

Space.

April 8, 2010

This is an ordinary photo of a small portion of the space I work in. To see some excellent photos, taken by a pro, of my space and others, smash this.

New Addition.

February 2, 2010

This may bare some explaining, I work out of a warehouse in an industrial area of Melbourne, Australia. I share this space with people who represent genius in motoring restoration. This place is full of things that are mental patient fun! Over the next little while I will try to document all the cool-drenched toys in the shed.

Read the rest of this entry »

John Munn of the Classic Bike Warehouse is seen here demonstrating the hand start of this Velocette LE. Apparently the Bobbies used these to run down crims in post WWII Britain. At the time, it was a requirement for the Metro Police on foot patrol to salute Sergeants and Inspectors. This became dangerous when this little pearl was introduced as saluting requires some skill in one-handed riding (Pastrana could do it), so the boys in blue on bikes were allowed to show their respect with a smart nod; hence the bikes became known as ‘Noddy Bikes’. This created an altogether new problem costing the Queen a few of her Royal Jewel’s. The incessant nodding causing neck pain and migraines in a high percentage of the Bobbies resulting in a tsunami of disability leave and high-priced Pilates and Shiatsu massage bills; thus fleecing her majesty’s jewel bin near bare.

Read the rest of this entry »