Hi Folks, the other day I was over at my machinist pal's shop, he has a
complete shop in an old chicken coop in Portsmouth, VA, and does the
special jobs for #124. The said pal is also one of that rare breed, a
fellow early Vincent motorcycle rider. He's about 70 now, and had his
Vincent back in the mid-'50s when a young lad. Needless to say, the
ranks of the Vin riders from the late '40s early '50s are thinning out a
bit now.
Present also was Joe X (haven't got his last name straight yet),
lifelong friend of my pal, whom I'd seen there once or twice before; Joe
is also an early Vincent rider, a very friendly, cheerful, sociable
fella in his 70s. Just the kind you'd meet at a meeting of the Masons,
or our local chapter of the Pheasant Pluckers(yes, there really is such
a society in VA).
This day, the talk turned to the immortal Rollie Free, whom some on this
List will remember was the hard, famous Vincent and Indian racer of the
'30s, '40s and '50s. Free will forever be remembered as the rider of the
Vincent at Bonneville in 1948, stretched out in his bathing suit and
shower cap, when he did 150 mph, got his picture on the cover of Time
magazine, and made the reputation of the Vincent, in America.
On hearing Free's name, Joe X piped up at once, "I met Rollie Free once,
he called me a dumba-s!" (You realize I have to use this device to
preserve the family atmosphere on this List.)
"Joe," I said, "tell me about that."
Joe related how, fifty years ago, he had a new Vincent, and being
footloose and fancy free, decided to ride from here to Southern
California to see what was going on in that fabled land. So he did.
By the time he got out there, he was pretty tired of the normal clatter
of his mount, which they all do, by reason mostly of the straight-cut
timing gears, but also of some piston slap, and a few other things. All
part of their charm, you know!
So Joe decided to break out his tool tray from under the seat, and
adjust the "noisy valves" of his bike. After he finished the job, his
bike didn't run at all well, and he couldn't imagine why. So he'd heard
that the famous Rollie Free had a Vincent shop, and he took it there for
attention.
The shop fixed his bike, and handed it back to him running right again.
At this point, the famous R.F. emerged from the gloom at the back,
walked up to him, and said, "Are you the dumba-s that adjusted those
valves?" Joe allowed that indeed, he was. "Well, from now on leave
them alone, you tightened them up so much the valves were held off the
seats and you killed the compression! When cold they're supposed to
have zero clearance, but you can turn the pushrods with your fingers.
You're going to hear 'em when the engine warms up!"
Sometime later, Joe rode back home to Portsmouth, but fifty years later,
he still remembers the day he met Rollie Free!
Cheers, Bill Hoddinott
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