A chance meeting in The Caffeine and Machine a while ago now brought back memories of my childhood, following my Father, Peter ‘Pip’ Harris, round the race circuits of Britain and Europe during the 60’s and 70’s. Over our latte’s. Garry and I chatted for a while with Rob and Nic about those exciting days. Rob had raced a solo machine during some of that time and his love for motorbikes had endured, indeed he was still touring around Europe on his beloved machine. Younger than Dad, he knew of my Father and enjoyed reminiscing. ‘Have you ever thought of writing it all down”, he asked. So that got me to thinking:-
Part One
It’s often the smell that takes me back to those exciting and now distant years with Dad at the race meetings around the national and international circuits. There is a certain cloying quality to the oily thickness of the air around motorbikes. It seeps into your clothes, hair, skin, the furniture and even the walls. It never leaves you and even a hint of motor oil now immediately transports me back in time.
In this photo - I am probably about 3 or 4 years old. I have looked at it quite a few times as you can imagine. I am sat on Dad’s knee and do you know I have only just acknowledged right there next to us is part of a bike engine. I cannot believe I haven’t taken in the poignancy of this before, but when I think about it, bikes were in every part of our lives, everyday. I guess nothing unusual there then, just part of the furniture. It was also at about this age that I had taken to calling myself ‘Baba Pip Harris’ when asked. I think I had cottoned on to being the daughter of somebody quite famous and I liked it. Not that I was precocious or spoilt at all you understand!
Really though this story should begin with my Grandad. I never met H.F. ‘Curly’ Harris, he died a few years before I was born. He was a bike tester before the war. Wolverhampton was a major location for cycle manufacture, which of course led to motorcycle manufacture. During WW1 he was a dispatch rider, they acted as military messengers. After the war he went on to race bikes with works rides on AJS and HRD and brief stints with New Imperial and Triumph, so we are going back a bit to around the 1920’s. Along with Howard Davies who later went on to form a motorcycle manufacturing company himself HRD, Curly would race alongside Eric Williams, Stanley Woods and the like. Curly notched up 12 TT’s, with one 2nd place in 1923 and a few lower finishes as well.
In September 1921 according to the Oxford Chronicle and Reading Gazette, Curly was a competitor in a six day reliability trial arranged by the Auto Cycle Union, where together with his team mates Howard Davies and Eric Williams, he was riding 729 miles from a start at Brooklands. There was a starting grid of 95 machines, such was the popularity of the sport. Unfortunately I don’t know how the team got on, the reporter seemed to think they would take a bit of beating though.
In 1922, according to the Coventry Evening Telegraph,Curly was racing at the famous Brooklands circuit where on his AJS machine he won a Gold. The stats according to the report detailed;- 143 starters, 100 finishers and 80 Gold winners. In 1923 they reported he was taking part in the Colmore Cup Trials, which are still held today.
Brooklands was the famous first purpose built motor racing circuit in the world. Construction commenced in 1906 at the site in Weybridge, Surrey. It opened a year later in 1907. For more information on this wonderful place and its history go to:-brooklandsmuseum.com
britishpathe.com have some fabulous shorts on the 1920’s Isle of Man TT races where ‘Curly’ can be seen riding. There is one particular clip from the 1920 TT Motorcycle Race at about 4 minutes in where Curly can be seen kneeling behind the bike No 3 attending to his own machine.
Curly also rode Brough (JAP) Machines during his racing career. I have also discovered he was sponsored by Hutchinson’s Tyres, a well known international manufacturing company at this time. They were also famous for providing materials for motorcycles, cycles, fabric for airships, the nieuport airplane and the Hanriot and Bleriot aircraft in 1916. They are still going today. You can read more at hutchinson.com
Curly was a well respected and successful racer, something I didn’t realise until much later on in my life when Dad just mentioned it in passing! Typical Dad, he never blew his own trumpet either and was always modest about his own achievements.
So naturally Curly wouldn’t think twice about sitting his young son, my father, on a solo bike, which he promptly drove into a brick wall. It became obvious something was wrong with Dad’s leg as he couldn’t control the pedals on the bike. One operation and an inserted metal support in place later, they tried again, no success that time either. So the decision was made to try a sidecar. The rest as they say is history. (I’ve always wanted to write that somewhere!)
Now I think I should mention at this point that I don’t pretend to know the first thing about the mechanical workings of motorbike engines or any other engine for that matter, but I do really still enjoy looking at bikes, watching the racing and some of the riders aren’t too bad to watch either! I will always remember the beautiful, deep, throaty ‘rhubarb’ sound of an un-silenced, non-Japanese, racing motorbike and the memory still makes my spine tingle. You can’t beat the excitement of the starting grid and that overpowering roar as the flag drops. The push starts were particularly heart stopping. I digress, so if you are wanting technical details this may not be the blog for you. If however you are looking for a more personal history of sidecar racing from a member of the family point of view, passing on anecdotes and stories from my Father, sharing photos – you may enjoy reading on.
The outbreak of the Second World War put a hold on everything. Dad’s brother John, who also raced sidecars, was a welder and was sent to a secret location somewhere up North, they later discovered he had been part of the workers building, amongst other things, the giant Mulberry Harbours used on D Day and some of which remain in the harbour at Arromanche to this day. Dad was too young to join up at only 12 at the outbreak of war, so he was left at home to help out with the family garage and taxi service. In fact I think he used to drive the taxi on occasion so he recalled! He was at school until 14, when on his leaving day he was told very firmly by the Headmaster and I quote; ‘Harris, you will amount to nothing!’ Dad once told me the only things he liked about school was woodwork, metalwork and history, interests that stayed with him throughout his life and set him on course for designing and building his own racing outfits.
During the war years he often recalled the fun to be had on the mini Rushmere circuit they built in the local field, (Rushmere Circuit - a 340 yard climb over two hills- was built just outside Bridgnorth by the very talented Tommy Deadman, it was extremely popular at the time) interspersed with stories about cycling to the local airfield to see the American Bomber that had made an emergency landing, talking to the pilots and air crew and the Hershey Bars they always seemed to have in abundance. Then he recalled the excitement he and his friends felt, when a stray bomb fell in the local brook, which naturally needed to be seen by the inquisitive youngsters. I believe it had proved quite difficult but not impossible to circumnavigate the Home Guard posted at the scene.
For more information on Tommy Deadman go to historywebsite.co.uk. Tommy was a local lad from Penn who Dad knew.
(This story reminded me of the great Dads Army TV and Radio series. For those who may not have heard of this series, which started in the 70’s and is still played on TV now, it follows a group of ‘Local Defence Volunteers’ as they were initially called, and their comical antics, fallings out and encounters with the odd Luftwaffe or German Gunboat crew throughout the Second World War. What made this comedy series so poignant for me was the fact that for all their trials and tribulations this band of predominantly aging men and a service dodging spiv would, if the German’s had landed, fought to the death to protect their Country.)
I have digressed again!
The beginning and the bike that started it all off for Dad - The ‘Grindley Bitza’ was so named according to Dad, because it was made up of ‘bits of this’ and ‘bits of that’. Grindley Motorbikes, I think were initially produced in Prees Shropshire, not far from our family home at that time, by Bill Grindley and they later became Grindley-Peerless in 1923. The Grindley family having a long and illustrous history in Coventry. From what Dad told me this bike was not purchased new, something way out of their financial capability at the time, but from some bloke, who was a friend of a friend of a friend. To cut a long story short they discovered it was a mish-mash of various bikes cobbled together, after they had handed over the cash, and watched the fella drive away! Undeterred they set about sorting out the dodgy engine and attaching a sidecar. This wonderful sounding machine blew up during its first season!
Just to mention motorbikes were a family affair as you can see in this photo. This is my Auntie Margaret (Dad’s sister) on her bike. Apparently she rode everywhere, normally with her dog on the petrol tank!
By this time Curly had bought Dad an old 1929 Sunbeam, they then quickly moved on to a 498 Norton and he started mountain grass tracking, along with his friend Charlie Billingham (nicknamed ‘Chucker Waller’ by Dad) acting as passenger. Now the first sidecar is definitely worth a mention. It was purchased (well a bit of bartering went on I think) from the milkman and was made of wicker. Yes, even I balked at that. But ‘Needs must as the Devil drives,’ as my’ Little Gran’ used to say.
Charlie recalled their first grass track event:-
‘Well we arrived at the track two fresh faced, ginger haired lads and quickly began weighing up the competition. Realising that our rivals were all pre-war race veterans, Pip turned to me and said, ‘Well, Chucker Waller, if we can’t beat them, we will certainly outlive them!’
They finished 6th by the way. And apparently there was nobody behind them.
Dad talked about the early days, Grass tracks at Wirral, Redditch, Shropshire and Kings Norton. and looking at all the photos it was very clear what fun he had, but his heart he told me had always been in road racing.
The smiles say it all! Dad and Charlie
In the late 40’s Dad moved on to a Norton bought from Jack Surtees, father of John, for the princely sum of £120, a lot of money back then. Dad recalled of the event:-
‘John was very upset when I arrived to collect the bike and was having a bit of a temper tantrum because he wanted to keep it for himself. He was still crying as I drove it away.’
Dad’s first Championship race on it the following year was at Cadwell Park. He finished in 1st position.
On his ‘nearly new’ Norton, Dad enjoyed and had success at amongst other venues Hill Climbs at Shelsley Walsh and racing at Eppynt. These two quite different venues are worth mentioning.
Eppynt was an unusual circuit. High in the Eppynt Mountain in Wales, it was formed as demand for road racing grew after the war and rules and regulations meant that racing on public roads was not permitted. So the War Office was persuaded by the Carmarthen and Builth Wells Clubs to make the roads available and the circuit was in use between 1948 and 1953.
(According to Geoff Thomas in his blog Mynydd Eppynt Race Circuit on southwalessectionvmcc.co.uk. )
It sounds as though this track was an exposed and demanding circuit for the riders. Dad raced there on his 596 Norton Watsonian in 1950, 51 and 53, the year the track was closed. According to my records he won each of his events.
Dad rode at Shelsley on three occasions, passengered by Neil Smith, H Mykos and Charlie Billingham in 1951,52,53 respectively. Again he won all three races.
Eppynt start, race and Shelsley
Shelsley Walsh Hill Climb still operates today and with only a break during WW2, is the oldest continuously staged motorsport event still running on its original course. It commenced in 1905.
One notable story Dad told me was whilst still racing his 499 Norton he was competing at Crystal Palace and comfortably leading the pack, when on the final lap he was misled by the Flag Marshall, resulting in him not finishing and Bill Bodice and Jack Beeton finishing 1st and 2nd respectively. But they and the rest of the placements refused to accept their positions unless Dad was reinstated as the winner. ‘A sport of Gentlemen’ Dad recounted. And indeed according to the Daily Herald who reported the incident ‘That Gentlemen, is sportsmanship’. I would have to agree.
Post War the two main pre-war tracks of Brooklands and Donington Park were not in use and in view of the legal restrictions so some of the old WW2 airfields were adapted for motorbike racing. Haddenham, Ansty and Thruxton being three such venues, as the photo below shows, the bombers are still lined up alongside the track at Haddenham!
There is an interesting comment in the Coventry Evening Telegraph in 1948 when it was reported that the riders at Ansty were using Methanol or wood spirit in their tanks, which apparently was twice as expensive and used twice as much as petrol. I assume because petrol was in short supply straight after the war!
It was in late 1940’s that Dad announced he was going to be moving from Grass Track events to concentrate on road racing, it was commented on in the Wolverhampton Express and Star that he would be missed. In May he raced at Eppynt on the 20 mile mountain course where he came first. Charlie lost a shoe half way round and as a result suffered a toe injury. I wonder if they ever retrieved the errant footware?
In April that year he raced at Ansty Coventry on his 596 Norton combination machine where he beat his long time rival Eric Oliver, although strangely they never got to race against one another at this meeting. The winner was decided by their winning times over their individual heats! The Wolverhampton Express and Star also published this under the title ‘W’ton driver beats World Champion’. They went on to explain that Harris and passenger ‘Bunty Billingham’, I have not heard Charlie called that before, did so despite a seriously cracked frame after lap three. Geoff Duke was also competing at this event on his Norton works solo machine and he beat the 10 lap record of 82 mph by winning the 500cc final at 84.23 mph.
The first World Championship listing I can find for Dad was in 1949 on his Norton when he came 9th. He had managed a 5th position at the Belgium Spa Francorchamps that year. Not a bad start for a private competitor, who due to the cost of competing was not able to enter every championship race.
Just a quick more recent story before I finish. A few years ago, Dad asked me to take him to the National Motorcycle Museum (this was before the first disastrous fire). It was always good fun taking Dad out because you never knew what he would get up to and that day was no exception. I always applied the old adage ‘normal rules don’t apply’ when out with Dad.
On this particular day he managed to cause quite a stir with some German and Japanese visitors. I had arranged a wheelchair for him as he couldn’t manage the walk around all the halls. Once in his chair we set off and he explained and talked about the bikes as we walked around. We arrived at one of the middle halls and there on the wall was a larger than life poster of him on his Norton, we noticed it at about the same time the aforementioned group of Germans did. (I should mention Dad was well known in Germany because of his links with BMW as in his later years he raced a BMW Watsonian.) They did a double take at Dad and then realising that he was that man they started talking rather excitedly and pointing repeatedly at the photo and then at Dad. They came over en-mass requesting autographs and photos next to the poster so with that Dad leapt, surprisingly quickly I thought, out of his chair and over the barrier to pose in front of the poster.
Cameras flashed, hands were shaken, lots of very good English (the Germans) and terrible German (Dad) was spoken, loudly in Dad’s case, and it was at this point I realised the silent alarms had been set off as the lights were flashing. As I remonstrated with Dad that he should come back over the barrier I noticed through the glass walls a posse of burly security men running from Reception via halls 1 and 2 towards us, with the Manager in close pursuit. Dad was now in full flow and the Germans now joined by the Japanese contingent were forming quite a large group, so I thought it best to retreat and observe.
The poster that started it all!
As the security men rounded the corner into the hall and whilst still a few yards away they suddenly stopped running. The rather red faced Manager who had by now caught up stopped too and instead of remonstrating with Dad, as I thought they would, they just stared, muttered something between themselves, pointed at the poster and then retreating to the corner, allowed the visitors to continue with their impromptu photo shoot whilst they kept a watchful eye. Autographs finished the excited visitors thanked Dad and started to wander off, I managed to guide him between the bikes and back over the barrier without knocking anything over, no mean feat at 6’2” he was a tall chap and not that steady on his feet! And all the while the security group remained in the corner, watchful but silent. Then back in his wheelchair we continued on our tour, Dad producing one of his most disarming smiles and a wink at the Manager as we passed, as though nothing unusual had occurred. A rather relieved looking and open-mouthed Manager said absolutely nothing at all!
I hope you have enjoyed this rather brief rough and tumble through Dad’s early racing years. I apologise now that some of the information may be a little out of order, but sometimes my memory, Dad’s version and the printed versions do differ somewhat. Things can get confused over the passage of time.
I hadn’t arrived on the scene for much of this period. Looking back at the photos it seems like another world, yet it all looks so thrilling for the time, particularly after the horrors of the 1st and 2nd World Wars.
So I want to say a big Thank You to Rob and Nik for reminding me of happy childhood days around the circuits and encouraging me to write it all down.
There is more to come, Dad's racing career spanned over 25 years, the longest of any internationally renowned sidecar racer. So I will be busy over the next few months putting together another instalment.
I will talk about his passengers and some of my memories as one of the ' paddock children'. Some of the races Dad particularly remembered. His competitors, fans and stories.
Thank you for taking the time to read this. I do hope you have enjoyed a peek into another world.
Comments