8 July 2019
A new human being, stands up, looks around at the time and the place in which he/she has turned up, and before long they're picking through this landscape of fascinating things around them, and they start latching onto stuff that somehow fits - suits - the unique collection of personality genes they've been issued. It's been going on since humankind had brainpower enough to latch onto something and say- "Whooo, I like this!" - and it sets about shaping their young lives. What was it for you?
Me? - Wheels.
My first life-shaping thing.
From an early age things on wheels got to me. Not toys, but vehicles. A platform with a wheel at each corner or at each end. That carried you along. Gave you - mobility! I mean, why wouldn't a new-ish human being, checking out the world, look at these things and think - now, that's for me! This gadget will suit me just fine!
That poor pedal-car got me through World War II and deep into Peacetime, did some of the hardest yards ever. Then we moved up into the hills where I discovered the benefits of Gravity and Downhill. Also discovered that the faster it went the more dangerous the back-and-forth gear in its nether regions became. So I was forced to discover spanners and screwdrivers and Customisation, took the front cowl off so my feet had half a chance of staying attached at the ankles. But my legs by then were getting too long anyway. Obvious solution - make my own. Vehicle that is. And so The Bitsa was born. First of a long line.
Some kids called them soapboxes, some billycarts. Mine was always a Bitsa - bitsa this, bitsa that - whatever was laying around. Including the wheels off the poor old pedal-car, which never ran again.
But somewhere along the way I became obsessed with two-wheeled things. About the time my elder brother was given a whole bike. All to himself. One that was out of bounds to me on the pain of death.
So I was given an aged scooter. Okay but was never going to be a bike substitute. I fitted it out with a 'sidecar' and convinced younger brother to go passenger. He was the world's best crash-test dummy. Trust me Bro, I know what I'm doing, this'll be great! Wham bam into the creek! Sidecar on top. Many times. We were both slow learners.
I soon realised that for me it had to be a bike or nothing. But hard-up working-class parents, by then breaking in a new outer suburb back in the city and trying to build a house, I quickly worked out I'd have to organise a bike for myself.
A blow-by-blow of this adventure into scrap-heap engineering (and family reconstruction) is in "House In Gondwanaland", a pretty faithful record of a bitsa bike emerging from the roadside rubbish like Frankenstein's monster. Geez that beast was a bike among bikes. But, it was my own wheels. Served me well in Year Seven and three years of Secondary School. Till I discovered - engines!
Internal combustion and four wheels are a God-designed go-together. Surely. Bought my first one at 16, beat the guy down from 50 quid to 45 quid and he's probably still laughing. Dad helped me shoe-horn in a replacement engine but the generator never did work. Or the front brakes. Mainly because there weren’t any. I did about 75 miles in it all up in the 6 months I had it. It was a valuable lesson in mechanics and money management.
So, I switched my attention back to things with only a wheel at each end, found that doing 40 mph flat out with a whole 125cc two stroke between my legs was bliss. Bliss and freedom. For a while. But at least it took me anywhere I wanted to go on a few bob's worth of juice. My mate had one the same. Great bikes, great time, wind in our hair, wet and cold in winter, at loose in the world all the other times. Then he got a big 500cc single that barked like a banshee when he opened it up so I had to have one too. Speeding and Stupidity fines soon followed. Until I met Herself. 
Internal combustion and wheels and a girl with killer green eyes and great legs are also a God-designed go-together. The three of us were inseparable - Boy Girl Bike - spent some of the coldest moments of our life back then. And the sweetest. And the best. Can't believe that was over 60 years ago. God she was beautiful. Both of them. Herself still is. I pray that the bike is still alive and in loving hands.
Newly married, the Army decided they needed me. For a couple of years they gave me a wonderful couple of toys to play with. The Saracen APC was great but the smaller Ferret armoured scout car, 3.7 tons, 6cyl Rolls Royce engine, 60mph in both directions, Browning machine gun - ah, my favourite. Can't believe they paid me as well. But all too soon back to full time civvies.
Wheels-For-Fun and Kids and Budgets and Mortgages aren't a God-designed go-together. But, to my discredit, for too long I gave it a fair old shot. Tried to do it on the cheap. Sometimes the family car, sometimes custom-builts, sprints, hillclimbs, circuits, rallying, drag racing. Took a while but eventually the penny dropped and I realised that seriously competitive internal combustion runs only on liquid money. It'd been fun but suddenly I was 32 and wheels had run their race. Sold the unfinished dragster and didn't even look back.
So, what did I learn from WHEELS?
Practically? - I learnt engineering, and innovation, learnt to be resourceful, make something useful from leftovers. Just like my Dad always did.
Spiritually? - I think, as a kid starting out in life, from my bike and my motorbikes, I learnt about the true nature of Freedom.
Morally? - Sounds a bit cutesy but from my custom-built cars I learnt about the quest for, the exercising of, and the controlling of - Power. And how it can be an addiction. One I got over. But, God help me, I still do love the sight and sound of a big AA-fueller flat strap and just barely under control.
Okay, I'm done. Not sure what's next.
Cheers....
T.R.E.