Motorcycle Classics – September-October 2019

(National Geographic (Little) Kids) #1

http://www.MotorcycleClassics.com 41


body,  and few creature comforts.  And the  little 1964 Allstate
trailer? It was  purchased new for $138 at a neighborhood
Sears store by a gentleman who used it sparingly before retiring
it in the side yard, where it sat for nearly a half century.
It’s not unusual, really, that such  vehicles would be side-
lined, squirreled away or forgotten over time. There must  be
millions of such cases across America. But what’s eerie is the
common  denominator of these four: Family men just like us
bought and used the machines during their prime, and as they
aged out of the game, they still retained them  — right to the
bitter end.
Which raises a question: Why do we  connect so indelibly
with machines, keeping and protecting them long after they can
serve any real purpose for us? Some may call this hoarding,
but I call it  honoring. And so, in honor of their former own-
ers, car  racer friend (and  classic motorcycle enthusiast) Randy
Pobst, photographer Seth DeDoes and I  decided to combine
them for a trip to The Quail Motorcycle Gathering. The inspira-
tion for this came from racer John Morton’s excellent book Inside
Shelby  American,  where he  describes using a Jaguar XK150 as
a tow vehicle for his Lotus Super Seven  race car during the
early 1960s. “If a Jag can tow a car trailer, why can’t a  Healey
tow a bike trailer?” I thought. So we hatched a plan, and
as Sergeant Friday drawled in Dragnet, “The story you are about
to hear is true.”


Matchless resurrection
In the mid-1960s, a lifelong California motorcyclist retired the
aforementioned Matchless G80 desert sleds. A street rider, tour-
er, trail rider, and Catalina Grand Prix competitor, he had owned
many bikes, and more would follow after the Matchlesses were
propped against the rear wall, ready for hibernation. This was a
fairly ordinary occurrence back then, as old bikes stored easily as
better ones came on the market. More extraordinary, though, is
that they would not see sunlight again for nearly a half century.


When I first heard about the bikes in 2012, a rumor described
some old  Matchlesses in a garage near the Pacific Coast. But
this one was true and the bikes were indeed real: a 1955 G80 CS
and a 1954 G80 CS wearing a Velocette front end. A suspiciously
bent frame downtube suggested that long ago, the ’54 had rid-
den into something immovable. Fortunately, a parts bike was
included, and it had the correct fork.
Even in their mothballed state  so many years on, clearly
the bikes were worthy of resurrection and  a return to action.
Fortunately, a  dedicated group of riders organically formed
to bring the Matchlesses  back to life, while preserving their
“as-found” state. But why not clean or restore them at the
same  time? With every passing year, more bikes get restored,
leaving less original examples and fewer portals to real connec-
tion with — and understanding of — moto-history. In originality
lives the  story, and to some, the story is what really matters.
Plainly then, these  Matchlesses, sitting in a suspended state
(some might say decay) for nearly a half century, clearly still fully
possess “their story.” And so, to me, honoring the owner and his
life meant doing what he surely would do, were he still alive and
able: (1) Make them run. (2) Go riding. (3) Respect the rest.
For the  Matchless  Resurrection work party, some brought or
shipped parts they had squirreled  away. Racer Jimmy Allison
from New Mexico sent a Lucas competition magneto for the 1954
model after the original seemed lost for spark. L.A.  Matchless
guru Don Madden brought factory manuals and a sprocket to
juice  up the ’55’s performance. And FIM Land Speed Record
holder Ralph Hudson brought  a wealth of mechanical knowl-
edge and focus.
What transpired on a cool fall  day was like a Matchless
Woodstock, except that no one was in it for the money or music
or fame. It didn’t need explaining, and it didn’t  need selling;
it was just understood that these two old bikes were  some-
how more than just two old bikes.
At a local shop, we arranged  ourselves in little teams
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