Chapter 13
THE FIZZY
Early 80s, maybe 1983/4
Coming home in the early hours around 01:00 am, I cant remember where I had been, I was always going or coming from somewhere at strange hours of the day and night.
Getting home at this time or later was a common factor in my life when i was younger, arriving home after 01:00 or 02:00 on a weekday was a normal thing, I would also need to be in work at around 05:00, it never seemed to bother me back then.
I couldn’t do it now if you paid me to do it.
Well on my way home I pulled on to the “ A4064 “ from Brynmenyn, I was heading home up the valley, there was very little traffic on the road, I was not really unexpected at this time for a Tuesday night.
The only thing I needed to watch out for was parked up bored coppers which were always hanging around somewhere, which I always kept a keen eye out for, i always reacted to any headlights that suddenly appear in my mirrors, I was always suspicious of any light coming up behind me.
The “ A4064 “ was known locally has The New Road, it was built by striking unemployed local miners during the 1930s, they were helping to build the road, it was a form of income during the many disputes the mine workers had with the English miner owners, and it would have been the only income they would have to take home to their family’s during the strikes.
The road is only just over a mile long and hugs the curvatures of the mountain, the road helped to give better access to the valley.
The old prehistoric track-way could no longer cope with the increase in the population of the valley, so a new road had to be built.
Well I had just pulled on to this road and a set of lights suddenly appeared in my mirrors and it was coming up fast behind me, I immediately throttled off and cut my speed, if was just about to open my Z-1000 up, but changed my mind when the lights appeared, I checked my mirrors and could only see one set of lights, this could be anything from a cop car to a taxi at this time of the night.
So being on the careful side I pulled over by the curb opposite Brynmenyn garage just up the road from my mates Brian’s house, if it was a copper he would have stopped and inquired why I was there, it would have been a male copper as there were never any female coppers on duty in the nighttime, not back then anyway.
i had my excuses ready, I would have told the copper, I was having trouble with the bike.
It was a good excuse, I have used it before and they have just told me to sort it and move on, but if I was riding the bike, they would have messed me around by pulling me over and would have checked my bike over, looking for something to book me on and all the crap that goes with that, so preempting getting pulled over saves me a lot of hassle, well it works for me.
( Photo 1 ) . The Garw valley, looking north from LLangeinor mountain, Photo taken in the 1980s, i know the date because I took the photo, the photo shows the Rexel / Ofrex factory on the bottom left, where I worked for what seemed like a 1000 years ( it was 17 years, but felt a lot longer ).
It did not take long before I knew what kind of car it was, the car flashed past me so close and at such a speed it rocked the bike a little and I could smell the hot engine as it accelerated past me, the driver of this car must have been driving this car really hard for quite a distance to get the engine so hot.
He was going at such a fast pace I was expecting to see a couple of cop cars in pursuit, I watched his red tail lights disappear in the distance on the tree lined road ahead of me, he was out of sight in seconds but the noise coming from his exhaust could be heard for miles in the still air of the night.
The colour of the car was blue, at lest I think so, it is hard to tell what colours are in a semi-darkness and there was no lighting on this part of the road.
It looked like a mark 2 ford Escort, I didn’t have a lot of time to look at it before it sped past me.
It had a very loud non-standard exhaust fitted and what looked like a baked bean can stuck on the end of it, I noticed that it had go faster stripes along the side of the car and that they lite up by the beam of my headlight and gave a reflected glow, the strips had that reflective element to them, this stuff was all the rage with this type of driver in the 80s.
As he zipped past me I also noticed he had a low spoiler fitted to the boot which was a different colour to the car.
I had no intention of racing this guy at this time of the night, he was drawing far too much attention to himself and from the way his car was kitted out, he fancied himself has a boy racer.
I could hear the Escorts exhaust note from a great distance away, every time he changed a gear the tone changed, this guy was shifting, he must have been revving the guts out of the car.
I pulled back onto the road from the curb and carried on up the road has I did before the boy racer had passed me.
I took the bike up to around 80 mph through the dark unlit tree covered road, slowly changing up through the gears.
I was in no rush unlike the escort and just before I entered the village of LLangeinor I throttled off and let the bike gently settle down to the 50 mph mark by just taking the pressure of the throttle, I rode on for about a mile or so and then I entered LLangeinor village itself, the roads were lite up better here by the street lighting, in the distance I could see a flashing blue light in the at the side of the road.
I cut my speed down even more, just above 30 mph trying stay around the speed limit and trying to keep my exhaust quiet and keeping an eye on the blue lights up ahead, in a short time I came upon the blue Escort and a police mini parked up on the left side of the road.
The coppers had pulled the boy racer over.
It was his own fault driving like he did, he was sure to get their attention at some point.
As I approached, I watched the gathered group of people on the pavement, one copper was talking to the driver, I noticed there were three others in the car and the second copper was leaning in through the passenger window talking to them, and as I rode past, all eyes were on me.
I could see them all turn their heads in my direction this included the car passengers, the coppers stopped talking and stopped what they were doing, I seemed to be more of an interest to them then the guy they had just pulled in,
I know for a fact that if they had not pulled the Ford Escort over it would have been me standing on the pavement again, I bet the coppers were kicking themselves for missing another opportunity for harassing me.
The boy racer deserved to get a ticket, he was an idiot, there is a time and a place for that kind of driving.
I will be honest, it took me a few years to behave myself on the roads, but time and 9 endorsements put on my licence are a good teacher, but they are for a different story, but I will say I did deserve them all. But there go, you shit happens.
As I cruised past, I gave myself a little smile, if I had not let the car pass me, it definitely would have been me on the pavement instead of him, so it was a good call on my part, like I have said time and experience are good teachers, coppers love stopping bikes, well they did in the 70s and 80s.
I kept the speed down and the bike quiet while I headed up the valley not to draw attention to myself, even if the coppers did decide to come after me after they had finished with the boy racer, I would have been long gone and not that they had any chance of catching me, but they would have made a point of stopping me some other time when they seen me on the road, so learning to avoid getting too much attention from the boys in blue had taken a little while, but i was beginning to learn.
I know it does sound a bit paranoid but that is how it was back then, the coppers seemed to have a campaign against bikers, I'm not the only one who felt this way, other bikers from the same time period felt the same.
( photo 2 ) . the new road looking north towards llangeinor.
When I was a good distance up the valley, I opened the Kwaka back up to 70 mph in the 30 speed limit.
Who takes notice of speed limits anyway, I knew the steep sides of the valley would mute the noise of my Harris exhaust.
As I rode up the valley, I did not come across any traffic at all, this was typical at this kind of time in the early hours.
The road was completely clear, so I sped up a little, I knew the road well enough to know when to slow down or to be on a certain part of the road to avoid the dips and the bumps, in fact I knew were every metal storm drain cover was on the road, so I just rode around them without thinking about it .
A little further up the valley, I started to catch up with a red tail light.
The night had gone cold and a thin mist had started to develop.
It was just damp enough for me to flick my visor up on my helmet because of the build up of moisture on the visor disrupting my vision a little, it did look worse in the light of the street lamps, the yellow light highlighted the mist giving it a more solid look, but in reality it was nothing to worry about, the mist did not impede any of the road.
I could see very clearly with my visor in the up position, but with the visor in the down position it was like looking through frosted glass.
The fine mist did make the road wet, which could be a problem, I could see that the white lines in the middle of the road were wet with the mist, giving the white reflective paint a moist look in my headlight, I noted this and made a point not to ride over them if I did not need too, just in case the lines made my tires skip out, this was not the kind of road to lose control on, there is a huge drop off on one side of the road.
Just remember, I was riding on a road that was halfway up the side of a mountain.
I was catching up with the red tail-light very rapidly, as I got closer I could see it was a motorcycle, I wasn’t sure to begin with, from the distance that I first spotted the red light, it could have been a bike or a car with only one rear light working.
I was also very cautious of cars that I caught up with in the nighttime after that one time I over took a car on the twisty bends coming out of LLuest village, as I sped past the car my headlight lite up the rear window parcel shelf and I spotted a copper’s helmet sitting there, I had just over taken an off duty copper on a blind bend.
I opened the bike up, accelerated past and kept accelerating and left him and his helmet behind in seconds, the car driver did blast his horn at me, I was moving so fast, I left him behind eating my dust, I was riding my 750 Rickman/Honda at the time.
I was expecting a knock on my front door from the boys in blue the next day, but nothing ever came from that mistake of mine, I must have been too quick for him to read my number plate.
I had 9 endorsements on my licence already and I didn’t need anymore, but it did make me more aware of what vehicle I was overtaking in the dark.
I knew the bike in front of me was a two-stroke long before I got anywhere near to it, mainly because of the blue cloud that was following it up the road, and because of the damp night air the smoky blue cloud just hung there in the road and I could also smell the distinct odour of two-stroke oil in the air.
The bike was a two-stroke and burning a lot of oil because of the thickens of the pastel blue cloud that he left trailing behind him in the bikes wake.
The little bike was smoking more than Cheech and Chong.
The cloud hung around mixing with the night mist.
It did not take me long before I came up behind this mobile chimney.
The road I was on was a very twisty turny one very much like all the roads in Wales, but i knew this road very well, i had ridden over it 1000s of times in the past.
There are not many straight parts of the road so the bike in front of me may not have known I was coming up behind him until the last moment until my Z beam head light lite him up.
( Photo 3 ) . The Yamaha FS1E, 50cc “ The fizzy “.
I could see the rider was laying on the tank, trying to get less wind resistance and get more speed out of the bike.
When my head light cast his shadow in front of him, he lifted himself up a little and then looked in his mirror.
It was only a quick glance, he looked up, and he could see there was another bike behind him, he then instantly resumed the position flat on the tank.
i was coming up behind him so fast it didn’t phase him, he just leaned back down on his tank, I could see by the angle of his right wrist that he had the throttle wide open, he was milking every drop of power and speed he could out of this bike.
I could hear his engine screaming, he really must have been revving the bollocks off it, as much as I could make out it was a Japanese chicken chaser, as I looked a little closer it was a FS1E , a yellow / gold Yamaha 50cc moped, known to everyone affectionately as a fizzy or fizzer.
It was a few years old from what I could see by reading the numbers and letters on the number plate, well what I could make out through the smoke out of his exhaust and that could have been one of the reasons why it was smoking so much and the fact that he was screwing the nuts off it.
I stayed behind him as we passed through the village of Tylagwyn with it’s half a dozen houses and a chapel, I throttle off a little at this point and dropped back.
The road was not in a very good condition here and I could see the bike in front of me was bouncing all over the place, if he hit a nasty bump in the road and lost control, I would be witnessing a fireworks display created by the rider and his bike sliding up the road, so I dropped back a little hoping that he would not feel to pressured to stay in front of me.
I didn’t what to feel responsible for him falling off the bike.
I have seen to many bike accidents to see that happen.
The base of the hill that runs up passed Tylagwyn was notoriously uneven and I had to avoid the bumps on a normal day, I dropped my speed because of the uneven road surface, it always caused me to come off my riding line on the road as I rode up the hill.
He didn’t slow down, he was milking every bit of power he had in this Japanese chicken chaser.
He was throwing the bike all over the road to get the best angle on the bends, so he could maintain the highest possible speed he could get out of the bike.
He just kept the throttle open and lay as flat as he could on the tank, he did drop a gear has he climbed up the hill, he blipped his throttle once as he changed gear, he was trying to keep his momentum up.
The engine screamed with the effort, i was expecting it to go bang at anytime.
The little yellow chicken chaser engine kept screaming, but kept going.
As we approached lluest village, he didn’t slow down at any point he kept the same pace up all the way through.
He went through the twisty bends of the village as if he was riding at Silver-Stone or the Isle of Man.
If i had a Go-pro camera fitted to the front of the bike or on my helmet like a lot of bikers have nowa days ( back then of course they didn't exist, the technology was not invented ), but just saying if i had the footage of this young rider it would be like if he was riding in the Isle of Man T.T. races, he was throwing the bike around every bend as if he was chasing a grand first place prize.
You have to understand the top speed of this fizzy was only around 45 mph, but with the engine screaming like it did and the way he was riding it, it sounded and looked a lot faster, I wasn’t really paying attention to the speed, it was way under what I would have normally been riding at on this part of the road.
He used all the road to get around the bends, and he laid the bike over with no care to himself or the bike.
I tapped my brakes and throttled off a few times, I didn’t want to get to close to him, the road was to wet for that kind of riding, well in my opinion it was and anyway it would have been really embarrassing if I had fallen off chasing a fizzy.
The top speed he archived was only around 40 + mph which I thought was quite good for the type of bike he was riding and the age of the bike, little did he know I could have mostly likely get that and another 20 mph on the first gear on my Z-1000.
( Photo 4 ) . My Z-1000 on Sarn common.
As we came out of lluest, we came up on to the open road before the village of Pantygog, there are no houses or cars parked on the side of the road and apart from sweeping bends the road was clear.
There were no buildings whatsoever on this part of the road, just an open road with the mountain on one side and a very long drop on the other.
So I used this opportunity of having nothing to avoid on the road to try and speak to the boy on the bike, it was relatively safe to ride alone side him for a few moments.
I pulled over on the wrong side of the road and leveled up with him, he was still laying on the tank and had not realized I was not behind him anymore because he was paying so much attention on the road in front of him, which I thought was the right way to ride the way he was gunning the bike, I gave him a beep with my horn to draw his attention, he looked up to his left side, he gave me a long stare and then sat upright for the first time that I had been with him.
He slowed down immediately, he took his hand off the throttle, so I did the same thing and throttle off to match his speed and stayed riding alongside him on the wrong side of the road.
I could smell his engine, it was so hot.
I was surprised it was not glowing bright red, he must have been running at maximum revs for miles long before I caught up with him.
He took another quick look at me and my bike, he could see in the semidarkness I was riding a 1000cc bike.
He gave me a great big smile.
I noticed then he had no visor on his helmet and the helmet itself was to big for him and it had been sprayed a Matt black colour and someone had drawn very roughly the Jap brand name Suzuki on the side of the helmet in big red letters.
He was wearing what looked like a faded blue denim wrangler jacket.
I shouted over to him, “ good ride, take care “.
I shouted loud enough so he could hear over the engine noise, i had my throttle shut completely off and was just coasting alongside him with my engine running quiet, his engine was still screaming with high revs like a banshee.
I gave him a wave and nodded to him and accelerated away from him, I could see in my mirror that he waved back and beeped his horn in return.
He was still sitting upright, he had no reason to try and race anything now, he had already done his best, and he seemed quite pleased with himself.
He was still smiling as he disappeared from my view.
He must have been happy that he had been racing a 1000 cc bike 19 times bigger then the bike he was on, he would have a story to tell his mates the next day.
I could have passed him at any time, but to be honest if I was riding a similar bike like the one he was riding, he would have blown me away on the first series of bends.
He was throwing it around like Carl foggaty or guy martin at a race meeting.
I never found out who he was or seen him on the road ever again which I thought at the time was a bit strange as there is only one road in and out of the valley and I traveled on this road every day.
I would be riding back and fore up and down the valley numerous time a day, I could be traveling up this road 4 to 6 times in one day, so i found it odd that i never came across him again.
How I never learned his name or seen him again as always been a mystery to me, he seemed to know the road so well, unless he just rode like that everywhere he went, if he did ride like that normally he was a better rider then me.
Well best of luck to him and hope he is still around riding somewhere.
( Photo 5 ) . The Garw valley looking south to llangeinor, photo taken half way up Carn mountain.