Competition

COMPETITION

Competition is a natural part of any evolutionary development, and among the things that distinguish a culture are its achievements. What the early riders achieved in a very short time was not just the creation of a hobby, but the elevation of motorcycle sport to international status. This occurred at the same time that professional athletics and sports (for example the Olympics and football) were breaking similar ground. Had biking not been an acquired taste with a tarnished reputation, it might have become the national sport in one country or another – Spain is a prime example of ordinary public adoration for bikes.

The natural desire to compete pushed forwards the technical development of motorcycles. It also affected the social conditions surrounding them. This occurred wherever bikes could be found and grew into a means of cultural exchange among geographically distant like-types. An attraction for other off-road activities lead to the organisation of trials and scrambles (over rough terrain se also motoX), and eventually grass tracking, dirt track and speedway made their appearances. Endurance and land speed records were also attempted, further stretching the envelope of the motorcycle’s capabilities and amazing the public.

The changes to the bikes not only satisfied the competitive user, but made them more accessible to prospective customers. Endurance tests and trials were set up by motorcycle manufacturers to demonstrate their product, and as early as 1901, road-going replicas of various sports models were produced and sold. Besides benefiting the buying public by producing ever better machines, competition also created tradition. For example, the Scott Trials were named after the motorcycles that had dominated them. Not to mention Mad Sunday on the Isle of Man, the firework displays in Spain, the parties in Italy after Grands Prix races…

Firms supplying components, like Champion, who made sparking plugs, and Castrol, a manufacturer of lubricants, benefited from the publicity generated by competition. Some even came into existence because of it, like Astralite wheels in later years. Advertising and product placement lent a commercial imagery to competitive scenes, and helped finance the fledgling motorcycle media. Many of these enterprises were run by people who rode bikes themselves. They were aware of the values in an earnest, rather than hard sell. And there was always that inverse humour, that later named Joseph Lucas, who sold lighting systems, ‘The Prince of Darkness’. This was an example of the light regard for things arcane that later became the substance of criticism and condemnation of Bikers and biking.

Vast numbers of manufacturers entered their machines in the mainstream events, enriching motorcycle history with a plethora of styles. The road-going versions they built for sale to the public were usually finished with an appearance that made their owners proud. Stylishly painted petrol tanks, polished fittings and engine covers began to give motorcycles a desirable, rather than just practicable appearance. Marques that were successful in competition are the more commonly remembered names of the times, because that success spilled over into sales. Scott, Indian, Harley-Davidson, Norton, Matchless and Triumph are among a random smattering, of which a few are still in production. The growing identities of motorcycles provided a part of the bonding not just between bike and rider, but also among riders who preferred specific marques. That difference sectionalised people, yet became another basis for the common understanding that continues to exist among Bikers. In its early days, the Norton workshop became the centre for technical discussion among bike builders, and was known as The Club. They were obviously on to a good thing, as Norton became dominant over many years of racing. Such casual meetings were enjoyed at all levels, generating more of the biking spirit. Norton’s aim was to provide road-going machines that could perform as well as their racers. The author of Tarka the Otter, Henry Williamson, wrote to the firm saying how pleased he was with his “As you can buy” Norton. In 1957, many years after Pa Norton’s death in 1925, Jim Sheldon of the Motorcycling magazine told how Pa had been a leading figure in the Salvation Army. He said that: “His motorcycles seemed to reflect his whole attitude to life.” This was perhaps the first acknowledgment of a genuine Biker-type. A few months after Norton’s death, Birmingham University began the Norton Scholarship in his memory. Funds from across the globe were received to support this gesture and innovation. These points demonstrate the mutual admiration and respect that had grown (and has remained) among motorcycling fraternities and individuals.

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The instinct to compete not only pitted riders against each other, but brought them together in large crowds. Racing had actually begun on the open road, and to make the sport more enjoyable for spectators, it was brought into the stadiums. This meant that the spectators could enjoy the entire race, rather than just waiting by the road or track side to catch the action as the competitors passed by. Often known as velodromes, the stadiums had previously been built for bicycle racing. These enclosed events took away the challenge that some competitors enjoyed, so specialised circuits also began to appear. Both ideas, along with other sporting venues, created breeding grounds for identities and activities that were pure motorcycling despite their polar interests. Because the first competitors were biking enthusiasts, they took the biking spirit into competition with them. This rubbed off onto other competitors, the riders who came to watch, and any latent Bikers attracted by these events.

Virtually anyone with a bike could fancy their chances, and an atmosphere of openness enlivened the competition. Through the amateur participation in motorcycle sport, a broader cross-section of society was attracted; a stark comparison with the motor-car racing scene, whose publicity posters invited patronage from “The right people.” Motorcars had replaced the carriage and horses of the leisured classes and became a status symbol. The custom of gentlemen electing jockeys to ride horses transferred into car-racing, but motorcycle races had a more open feel. Anyone with a passion for speed (and of course enough money to fund their activity) could enter. Competitors from the universities rode against themselves and others. Race-entrants included trades people who either built or sold motorcycles, and were anathema to aristocratic ideals. The attitudes and admix of competitors, audiences and business people began to make biking a cosmopolitan, or class-less society (i.e. how much money you had or who your family are, were not an issue).

Enthusiasts occasionally had to stay away from home when following biking sport, as did the competitors. They would all gather in hotels, even book rooms together, where sing-alongs and pub games would be indulged. Some US competitors even rented brothels together. The camaraderie founded in bikes was changing people’s lives by creating a need for preferred company.

The eventual emergence of racing teams made changes out on the tracks. Due to their financial muscle, supplied by specific marques and sponsors, their bikes were better developed. The likelihood of winning became remote without factory support. Occasionally this was over-turned. German racer, Herman Lang tuned his brother’s machine, and while it was unable to compete in straight line speed, he used riding technique to get ahead through the corners. This kind of feat illustrates how the stuff of heroes, not just technology, remained prevalent in biking circles.

As the appearance of financed teams curtailed the freelancer’s ability to compete, amateur class events evolved to accommodate the demand for private competition. Below that existed impromptu competition among rider friends and acquaintances - where it had all actually begun. Some of these were the moneyed buyers of new models, but an even greater number were keen motorcyclists on shoestring budgets, who converted road bikes to whatever cause they followed. Ingenuity and thrift became the mainstays of street-level riders. The author lived at the lower stratum of this band, racing any comer on an mot-failed BSA Bantam round the fields where he lived. No prizes, just the satisfaction of where you finished. I was often 1^st against bigger bikes, partly due to bravado, some talent and largely no brakes.

In the UK, drastically low speed limits on the roads retarded the development of British machines, which lost their competitive edge on the continent. To promote home racing, a democratically voted body called the Auto Cycle Union (ACU), along with other enthusiasts, devised a new concept. Frenchman The Marquis de Mouzilly St. Mars offered a trophy as the prize for the successful competitor. The object of the competition was officially intended to: “Assist the development of an ideal touring motorcycle of the power required by the ordinary user, regardless of the number of cylinders. It is not intended for racing motorcycles, and is not necessarily a race between existing standard types.”

This became known as the Isle of Man Tourist Trophy, or TT. It not only attracted competitors, but also prospective businesses and their customers. And there was another lure to take riders onto the island: there was no speed limit. This made it especially attractive, as both a testing ground and a sporting venue. So much so that the Isle Of Man TT became one of the most popular biking events in the world. Through the spirit of competition, the island course became less of a chance meeting place, more of a regular camp for cementing biking relationships.

Safety was a primary concern for all involved, and Pioneer riders recall lamp-posts being removed from the course to avoid accidents. An act of the Isle of Man Government (known as Tynwald) in 1928 included full road closures, not just for racing, but for practice. This was enacted after the first fatal accident on the island. A rider for the Rudge motorcycle manufacturer’s team, Victor Surridge, had collided with a milk delivery van during practice. The resulting track closure and other cooperative acts demonstrated that supportive rather than repressive actions could allow separate cultures to endure if not enjoy each other’s existence. The truth of this survived into the 21st century, whereby an Isle of Man police force numbering around 300 easily accommodated the tens of thousands of Bikers arriving for the TT.

The dangers of racing also made a contribution to rider appearance, by introducing protective clothing. Ordinary motorcycle gear so far had included rain-coats, long leather coats and rubber ponchos. A TT rider called Jack Marshall was one of the first to wear a leather waist-coat, breeches and knee-boots. The boots became known as TT boots and along with the leather coat and waistcoat, they became standards for the enthusiast’s appearance. Happily, the rubber poncho didn’t catch on, but the later use of crash-helmets (introduced by Americans) made a major contribution to motorcycling safety. These earliest skid-lids were often the same leather items worn by aviators.

The TT finally became more like a race for fast bikes, and the radical claims and self-styled tests of bike manufacturers were meeting with misgivings among the public. Norton among others now looked to the promotion of their machines through the newly devised Maudes Trophy in 1923. This trophy was the idea of a Mr. Pettyt, who worked for a firm called Maudes Motor Mart of Exeter (the award was originally presented as the Pettyt Cup). The aim was to annually award a trophy based on strict observation (by the ACU) of public bike testing. Norton went to great pains to allow the ACU to select parts from the Norton stocks. Under strict supervision, they would be built into the machines to be used in various trials and tests. This demonstrates a genuine concern, not just for winning races and making sales, but in providing an excellence for the customer. Such bikes were being built by Bikers for Bikers; the profit and growth were by-products.

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The prominent personalities of famous racers were comparable in stature with the then contemporary film and music stars. The Collier brothers, who raced Matchless motorcycles, were seen as down to earth heroes, whose intention was winning cleanly. This reflected the sporting spirit and good manners that existed among racers. And that’s what enamoured them as heroes when they met with success. American Jake De Rosier was also admired as a down-to-earth sporting gentleman, rather than a deified hero. Bikers understood that hero-worship was naive, and that mutual respect is more valuable. Even so, such competitors made great news stories that helped put biking into mainstream media across the world. The critics, who’d expected motorcycles not to survive childhood, only had each other’s ears as biking went from strength to strength, capturing even the public imagination.

There is something intangible about the way great racers are appreciated. The muscular effort required to push evenly-matched bikes to the front, the skill and daring, and the exhausted personas witnessed after an event, all commingle to inspire a gut feeling in the observer. Racing motorcyclists had to be as strong and brave as they were smart; the intelligence used in perfecting technique is only recognised and justified when the physical effort and daring matches the idea. In The Perfect Vehicle, authoress Melissa Holbrook Pierson describes the fanship of racers as: “That unnamed centre of the gut that knows without thinking how to read the poetry of extremity.” Although riders generally cannot ride as freely on the roads as racers in competitions do, they have an understanding of what their heroes are going through from their own experiences. They have, under simulated conditions, been there, and can appreciate the nuances of spectacular performance. What may look like a smooth roundy-roundy thing, is actually a juddering, wrenching struggle to stay aboard, let alone pass the machine in front.

‘Fearless’ Freddie Dixon earned his nickname through his innovative but aggressive riding of Harley Davidsons. He had a reputation for fighting, however, this didn’t incite others into brawling. The problematic behaviour of people in any field of fame has always been accepted as the tolerable downside of able or artistic personas; Vincent Van Gogh’s self-mutilation didn’t spawn a plethora of one-eared artists.

Other riders like the Italian Nuvolari gained fame through the development of riding technique. He would follow another rider, using the slip-stream. This is a hole in the air created behind a bike. The slip-stream offers less resistance to any bike that can enter it, enabling less powerful machines to maintain similar speeds to those in front, by being dragged along. He also rode rather spectacularly styled machines, like the Rococo framed Fongri. The Italian name Fongri does not ring bells like the famous Moto Guzzi, nor did the marque hang around for quite as long, but it does show that bike builders appreciated style as well as design. Function or style alone can create sales, but by combining them, the manufacturers were acknowledging the architectural art in bike construction was part of the motorcycling experience.

Racing legislation and other forces began to intrude on motorcycle development and many riders suffered frustrations caused by non-competitive bikes. While this made heroes of people whose fearlessness and audacity made up for inferior machines, it also caused riders to make the career-change into racing cars. Heroes like Vorzi and later John Surtees were instrumental in popularising that sport, as well as biking. This was innocent enough, however it fuelled the misconception that bikes were just a step-up to cars. In the last line of his book on bikes, The Golden Years, author Rupert Prior stated: “Motorcycling is the finest training on earth for safe and fast car navigation. My vote is for the latter.” It was a logical yet strange thing to say, and underlines how some apparently dedicated ‘Bikers’ were not what they seemed. When bike development began to improve, some of the absent racers returned. They were warmly welcomed back, even by other riders, who saw them as added competition to their own efforts. Persona is highly valued in biking spheres, but to some, the actions of these riders were an infidelity. Those who returned to motorcycle sport were perhaps the earliest Born-Again Bikers.

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Special pit-boards were used by racing teams to inform riders of the varying situations, but they weren’t always visible to others who desired that information. The demands of the media pressed time-keeping officials into displaying lap-times and results more prominently. This was eventually done with large electronic boards. The first circuit to use telephones was the Nurburg Ring, in Germany. They were set up at various points round the track and used to relay information back to the pits and the press, who hung around the grandstand. Races such as the Brooklands 500 in the 1920s began to attract ciné-cameras, and footage was shown at cinemas. This inclusion of information technology created an even wider audience for motorcycling. But as ever, the media has a negative side, and board track racing in the US came under legislative and journalistic fire. A racing accident killed spectators, and some tracks were closed following Grand Jury inquiries. Board track racing was declared “A murderous spectacle.” by the American press, who said that it detracted from, rather than added to a desire for the prospective customer to own a motorcycle.

A circuit builder in America named Prince was accused of taking short-cuts and cashing in on the sensationalism of horror as well as the racing, but none of his tracks were proven structurally dangerous. Neither was sensationalism the motive when a Sunday paper, the News of The World,sponsored races in the UK. Both Prince’s and the paper’s interests stemmed from the growing popularity of the sport itself. A newspaper article in the US, however, used the imminent fears involved after a day’s racing at the Los Angeles Stadium. The headline stated: “Ten thousand see Bikers flirt with death.” This demonstrates an interest in gory spectacle rather than sporting appreciation. Accidents did happen, but to all involved, that was all they were; accidents - unplanned, undesirable and certainly not showmanship. It was the defiance of danger, not its ugly manifestation, that fired rider and spectator thrills. Racing is a sport, and sport is entertainment, but the enjoyment of gore is deviance. To the competitors and their followers, it was the ghoulish onlookers, who sought out the macabre, that were the aliens.

The same US newspaper report went on to say that, although few automobile fans had attended the races, the place was still packed with bike fans. Such large attendances witnessed the burgeoning enthusiasm for bikes, despite the dangers for all involved, and also despite America’s problems in setting up competition: days like Sunday had to be avoided to avert the wrath of religious organisations. The usage of the term Biker is also notable in the news headline, showing that its colloquial, if not generic use, was already around. Whether it came from inside or outside of biking doesn’t matter; just like the word motorcycle before it, it would eventually acquire a marked significance.

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Other people’s interference began to infringe upon the sporting but civilised conduct of motorcyclists. An unknown person or persons scattered nails in the paths of racers in the US, while suffragettes deposited broken glass on the TT circuit. The nails might be explained by people against machines, but this is purely supposition. Despite there being no blanket exclusion to women from biking, the suffragettes had an ethic concerning any male-dominated situation. Even the law was a male enclave that subjugated them; therefore, it must be attacked. Likewise the TT. Whatever the early riders might be accused or guilty of as individuals, the fact that they were motorcyclists was the thing that was often held against them. Their latter-day counterparts also understand that frowning judgmental attitudes are something that any eccentric becomes accustomed too. It was primarily the negative attitudes of outsiders that put the wedge of spite into the rift between motorcyclists and the public.

Meanwhile, the noblesse of biking heroes on the track was officially recognised by racing authorities. Brave and sporting action was awarded by the Nisbet Trophy. It represents an honour among people whose spirit is pure. Italian rider Achille Vorzi received it after the 1924 TT, by avoiding a fallen rider - and causing himself to crash. The fact that actions like Vorzi’s were rewarded shows that high standards of humanity existed throughout the biking world. It is a quality that is cognisant between motorcyclists, as a kind of elite, though not superior bonding. In earlier history, errant Knights were viewed as chivalrous, noble people who could be trusted whether you knew them or not (excepting the odd black knight). The extinct camaraderie of Knights had now found a new identity and membership. Motorcyclist’s courtesy towards themselves and others (on and off the track), had caused them to be dubbed Knights of the Road.

The British Empire, America and Europe were all ripe grounds for the societal changes that were coming about. Biking, from street to circuit level, was riding this wave of change across societal boundaries. The condition of the Western globe itself allowed new concepts to manifest, and what motorcycle competition did was to show to the world the (noble) spirit of an emergent Bikerdom.