C.Z.

CHAPTER 57

CZ

1976-77

( Photo 1 ) . A typical Jawa CZ 250.

I worked in an English town for around six months, the town is not far from the Welsh boarder and is called Cheltenham, maybe I was there a little longer, it is hard to remember for how long, I lost track of time while I was up there, I’m not sure if it was out of boredom or just being very busy while I was there, I was still employed by Ofrex/Rexel Engineering in Llangeinor.

How this move came about was because one of the regular company Reps that visited Ofrex in Llangeinor worked for Canning’s, a huge Birmingham based firm that supplied electroplating chemical salts, plating equipment, and expertise, plus all other materials that were related to the electroplating industry, this particular Rep had changed his job from being a rep to managing a well established plating firm in Cheltenham called T.W. Bastons Finishing on Tewkesbury road, Cheltenham.

I was asked as a favour to help out getting a new Chrome plating plant up and running, as Bastons were having issues with chemically balancing one of the huge Chrome vats.

It was only supposed be for a short time a couple of weeks at the most, my manager at the time called George Berry had a word with the English directors that ran Ofrex, and explained to them that it would benefit us with Canning’s in the long run, and as Canning’s always promoted the industry in any way they could.

Canning’s offered a large discount on Chemical salts for helping out, which was a massive saving on running cost, also Bastons would pay me my wages, sounds like a win, win to me, doing it this way Canning’s could free up one of their reps which benefited them.

They also offered me the option of a rent-free flat to stay in while I was there with no running cost, Gas, Electricity all paid for by the Bastons company, which I excepted without hesitation.

I was expected to be hands on, and to help throughout the working day and be available every other weekend, and because I was on site in the flat which was above the company’s offices, I was expected to open up the factory in the mornings only on weekends and shut the place down sometimes in the evening when the work day had finished.

I said yes to this offer, it was something different and I had a chance to see another part of the UK, and Cheltenham was only around 100 miles or so from where I lived in Wales, which is not a long ride on the bike, at the time I was riding my Yamaha RD 350.

The flat was very basic but was fully furnished, with everything I needed, a bed, kitchen, Bathroom, it did not have T.V, but that was no problem as I hardly watched TV. back then, all I needed to do was shop every now and again, Beans and Cheese mainly, with toast now and again, luckily for me there was a pub close by called the Vauxhall which sold pies and pasties, and some strange cheese and onion crisp’s of a make I had never seen before and have never come across since.

While I was in Cheltenham I was surprised by the amount of Welsh people working there, a third of the workforce in the factory were welsh, I suppose the reason is that the Welsh boarder is on only a few miles west of the town.

One of these Welsh Expats was interested in bikes, so we got talking, he asked me if I would go with him to one of the bike shops in the town, and help him pick a bike for work.

This guy was older than me by about seven to eight years, and he was from Swansea, and he had been working in this plating factory for some years.

He said he had not passed his motorbike test, but had ridden a bike before, but not for sometime.

I am always happy to help someone, so I said yes, I would help him pick the right type of bike for what he wanted to use it for.

We went to one of the local bike shops ( can’t remember the name ), all I can remember was that it was in walking distance in the town somewhere.

The bike shop were selling Jawa CZ and MZ bikes and a selection of second-hand bikes of all types and makes, mainly small cc`s.

I personally think the CZ and MZ bikes are a load of crap and some of the ugliest bikes that I have ever seen, I would not touch one with a barge pole.

But this Swansea guy was super keen on buying one of these eastern block two wheel version of a tractor, mainly they were cheap to buy compared to the Jap bikes that were on the market, and they were inside his buying budget, I did try and convince him to have a different choice of bike on the never, never, pay a little more, but he would have had a better bike for his money, but he was determined on getting one of these cheap and nasty bikes.

While he mingled around the showroom looking at one ugly bike and then moving on to another ugly bike, saying things like “ this a good-looking bike, I wonder how fast it will go”, I would answer him by saying something like “ I think you need to go to Specsavers and get your eyes tested “.

A salesman approached me, my fault really, for standing still in one place for to long, I was an easy target.

He was wearing black trousers with an off pink shirt and a black bolero type jacket that hang open to the waste with the collar turned up, that looked very reminiscent of how Elvis wore some of his costumes, his shirt was unbuttoned down by two buttons showing his chest, it looked to me like some furry animal was trying to escape out of his shirt, his bolero did not quiet match the same colour black colour of the trousers which ruined his effort of trying to look smart and professional, and to top it all off, he had the shiniest, pointiest shoes I have ever seen, I thought at the time he looked ridicules, he most likely though he was chocolate, I had the impression he was dressed in a shop window by a blind window-dresser.

He walked up to me wearing a big plastic smile and said “ You see anything you like, there are some nice bikes, with some nice affordable prices “.

I turned to face him and said, not smiling “ If I was looking for a bike, I would not have come here for it, these things” I pointed around the showroom, “ are a load of shit, it looks like you collected the most ugliest bikes you could find and put them all in the one room, I would rather put a tramps pants over my head then buy one of these bikes”.

His plastic smile immediately fell off and said in response to my unexpected outburst “ Excuse me, these machines are of top quality, and are at the top of the new cutting edge technology that is available at the moment “.

I answered “ Yeah maybe in the 1950`s, there’s nothing on those bikes that is modern, everything on them dates from decades ago”.

I could see he was trying his best to keep his composure, but it was also easy to see that he was not happy with me, and he had only met me for less than one minute, and I think he was thinking about killing me already.

I thought I had better curb my opinion about these bikes, and calm the water a little, or I’ll get myself thrown out and that may leave my new-found factory mate to be seduced by there’s plastic smiling predators.

So I said “ Yeah I’m only joking, they may have something going for them “.

( I lied ), I prefer Jap bikes and I could see nothing good from buying one of these two-wheel tractors.

He said with a hint of sarcasm in his tone “ do you have a motorcycle “.

I think I was off this guys Christmas list, I answered, “ yes I do, I have an American import Yamaha RD 350”.

Me say this stopped him saying his next rehearsed line of patter which he had undoubtedly had prepared to take control of our conversation, instead he said “ Why are you in here then, if you don’t want to buy anything from the shop”.

I answered, pointing across the show room “ I am with that idiot over there, he is thinking of buying one of your wonderful bikes off you “, I gave him a little smile as I said this, he gave me a hard stare with no smile, I could see by his expression he wanted to punch me in the face, the guy reminded me of a Welsh version of the salesman Merve the Swerve from Two Wheel Services.

The Salesman did not say another word to me, and made a bee-line for the Swansea boy across the showroom, like a buzzard swooping down on a young rabbit.

I watched the salesman work on Gwyn, and within a very short time he had him dangling on a string like a puppet, the salesman had spun his web of bullshit and trapped Gwyn in the middle of it, he had caught this welsh idiot without much of an effort, Gwyn walked into the deal with his eyes wide open, like a Welsh lamb going to a slaughter house.

Strangely everyone in the factory called Gwyn, Glyn mainly because they could not understand the name and were not familiar with the Welsh name, If I spoke to one of the English guys in the factory and asked for Gwyn, they always looked puzzled, so I had to call him Glyn when I was taking to them it saved time.

I walked over to the predator and his pray, I just stood back while the salesman pointed out all the virtues of owning a Jawa CZ 250, the guy was good, listening to his sale’s patter almost convinced me that they were the best thing on the market.

I was looking at the bike that Gwyn was interested in, and thinking “ fuck me that’s one ugly bike “.

The salesman was talking utter bollocks, he said this 250 CZ could keep up with any bike in its cc class, it gives awesome amount of miles to the gallon, and is one of the best handling bikes of its size.

The salesman was so good at his job he almost convinced me, and then I woke up out of the spell he was weaving, but Gwyn was sucked in, and he listened to this guy hanging onto every word that came out of his lying mouth.

I thought “ fuck, Gwyn’s going to be super disappointed when a Honda C90 passes him on the straight “.

I watched and listened to all this bullshit, and then I thought I had better step in and try and drag Gwyn back into reality, it was time for me to say something, I addressed Gwyn ignoring the salesman and said “ Gwyn, maybe you should have a think about all the specs before you make a Decision, sleep on it, the bikes will be here tomorrow “.

I had a hard stare off the salesman, I had just interrupted his sales patter, which he was not happy about.

Gwyn was wide-eyed and completely mesmerized by the bike in front of him, the salesman had done a good job on him, if I wasn’t there Gwyn would have been signing on the dotted line five minutes after he walked into the bike shop, this salesman could have sold him a three wheeled shopping trolley and Gwyn would have bought it.

I said “ Gwyn, take a look at some of the second hand MZ 250`s they have in the shop “.

I was trying to get this idiot away from the smarmy ill dressed predator.

The MZ was marginally a better bike then the CZ, not much better, but it was cheaper, but still as ugly.

The salesman was giving me dagger eyes, he knew what I was doing, I was taking a sale away from him, he was not smiling now.

I continued “ let's go and have a look around there a couple more bike shop in town, you may fancy a different bike”.

The bike Gwyn was looking at was the first bike he had looked at, and could not take his eyes off it.

Well in the end the salesman had his way, I could not get Gwyn out of the bike shop, and the Swansea idiot bought a brand new Jawa CZ 250, he said he liked the price it was cheap compared to other bikes of the same type, I told him it would cost him more in the long run, but there was no talking to him, the salesman had brainwashed him.

He picked the bike up, and loved it for some strange reason, he rode it around for a week, and then it just refused to start on one morning and had to take it back to the bike shop.

The bike shop told him the bike needed a part that was not covered by the warranty, and they charged him to pick the bike up.

Everyone known’s this was all bollocks and daylight robbery, but Gwyn trusted their word, I told to make a fuss and refuse to pay anything toward the new part and picking the bike up.

He did complain some shape, it sounded more like he was apologizing to them for the bike breaking down, more than a disappointed and disgruntled bike owner of a new machine.

The bike shops answer was if he didn’t pay them they would not release the bike back to him, and hold on to it until he paid up for the part and the picking the bike up, but they said they would not charge him for garage time, and the mechanics time for fixing the bike.

Gwyn though they were giving him a good deal, and he was saving money, I was having serious doubts about this guy's sanity, he was starting to remind of the character Malcolm from the Ogri cartoon strip.

( Photo 2 ) . An advert for the range of Jawa motorcycles for the mid 1970`s.

The guy was an idiot, but I felt a little responsible for not stopping him buying the bike from these people, I know it was not my problem, and he should have known better.

He asked if I could help him sort the problem out with the bike shop, so the coming weekend I took him up to the bike shop on the back of my RD350, which scared the crap out of him or my riding did.

There was a massive difference between the performance of his CZ250 and my RD350, which he found out in a very short space of time.

We arrived at the workshop/garage part of the bike shop which was at the rear of the premises on a side lane.

The garage doors were open and the bike mechanics watched me pull to a stop, the three mechanic's stopped what they were doing, which was not much from what I could see, one was smoking with his feet up on a bench another was leaning against a internal door with a mug of coffee in his hand, and the last one was holding up a spark plug towards the florescent lighting.

The spark plug mechanic approached us as we dismounted the RD, and asked what we wanted.

I answered, I said pointing toward the Swansea idiot, “ he wants to pick up his bike”.

The mechanic answered by putting the spark plug in his top pocket of his blue greasy overall, oddly there were at lest another six other spark plugs in the pocket, all trying to work their way out to freedom, he said “ what bike is it “.

Gwyn pointed into the workshop and said “ it’s that one in the corner, with the boxes onto top of it “.

The mechanic replied “ ah, yes I know about that one, you need to go to the front office, and have a word with one of the guys in the showroom”.

So that is what Gwyn did, he walked around the corner out of sight, I stayed by my bike, the mechanic stayed where he was watching me, which I found a little odd, so while he was there I took the opportunity to ask him a few questions about Gwyn’s bike.

The spark plug mechanic, just stood there not saying a word, his facial expression gave me the impression he was chewing wasp, I said “ What was the matter with my friends CZ “.

He spoke to me with a attitude for some reason, I had not given a reason to be so blunt to me , well not yet anyway.

He answered very bluntly “ Nothing now, it’s been fixed ”.

I said “ What was wrong with it “.

He answered again as if he did not want to talk to me “ What the part was needed I can't remember now, I know it was nothing serious, and we just changed it for a new one “.

I said “ can I have a look at the part “.

He said “ it won't tell you anything it’s electronic “.

I said “ it might, I am a electronic technician, I know my way around electronics and why they fail “.

He gave me a hard look and said flatly “ no “.

I said “ Why not, it won't harm if I have a look at it “.

He said “ there are two reasons why you can't have a look at it, number one it’s none of your business and it’s not your bike and number two it’s company policy to keep any replacement part, replaced by our mechanics “.

I smiled and said “ That’s three things, and I don’t want to keep it, and how do I know if it is Naffed in the first place, if you won't let anyone inspect the part”.

The mechanic that was drinking the coffee walked out of the workshop and said to me “ like he just said, it’s none of your business”.

They both turned their backs on me and walked away.

At this point in the conversation everything changed, and it turned into an argument.

I said “ You English Wankers are a bunch of pricks “, this drew the attention of everyone in the workshop, the spark plug mechanic said “ what did you just call us “.

I was really annoyed with the attitude of these guys, and I was not happy with the way they had been talking to me, they had an attitude with me from the off, I answered “ What are you fucking deaf, I said you are a bunch of rip-off Wankers “.

The coffee mechanic turned around and walked up to me, I was still leaning on my bike, I straightened myself up, and we looked at each other in the eyes, of course I had to look up as he was at least six inches taller than me.

He said in a very angry tone “ you want to watch your mouth you Welsh prick”.

I said “ And what the fuck are you going to do about it ”, the guy could have torn me in half, he was physically much bigger than me, and had fingers like bratwurst sausages, but I would never back down, life had taught me a hard lesson that people who make threats like this never really follow through, ( They do sometimes ) and what’s a little pain anyway, the humiliation hurts more when you get thrown around like a rag-doll, but that’s the risk you take, I wasn’t going to back down.

Someone from the workshop shouted “ why don’t you just fuck off back over the bridge “.

I shouted back still not taking my eyes of the coffee boy “ fuck off a bwyta cachu chi saesneg pigo “, “ fuck off and eat shit you English prick “.

I didn’t get a response back, it’s a bit hard to come back and say something smart when someone as just sworn at you in a language that you don’t understand, it made me smile.

Just as all this was happening, Gwyn came back around the corner with one of the salesmen.

The salesman said to the spark plug mechanic “ He can have the bike, he has paid up “.

The coffee mechanic gave me smirk, and walked back into the workshop without say a word.

So Gwyn the idiot had his bike back, nothing was said to me but I don’t think I was welcome back at that bike shop.

Don’t get me wrong not all bike shops are rip-off artists, and not all salesmen and mechanic are Wankers, but this particular bike shop in Cheltenham did fit into the Wanker category.

Gwyn, paid for everything, even having the bike picked up after it broke down, I started to call him Gwyn the Twp, from then on, the guy was an idiot.

Gwyn’s bike was running ok, so he asked me to go for a ride with him into the countryside outside the town, I reluctantly said yes, I said I would go with him mainly out of boredom as there was not a lot to do in the evenings , no TV to watch and the pub was full of English people that just stared at each other without saying a word, I found the pubs very different to welsh pubs, where there are people singing and laughing throughout the night, I don’t know if all English pubs are like the one I visited near me, but it was not for me, so a ride out into the country may break my boredom up a little.

So we rode out of town I had no idea where we were going, the Swansea idiot was in front of me, I let him go in front otherwise I would have left him behind within the first half a mile.

His CZ was belching out a pastel blue smoke screen, it was so thick I had to drop back to see where I was going.

We rode through the green lanes at a snails pace, I asked myself “ Why did I agree to this ride “ I knew beforehand it would be a slow ride, Gwyn was sticking to the speed limits, which was something I never did.

There was very little traffic on the roads.

We were riding along, when in my mirrors I could see a cop car coming up behind us, the car kept its distance and even dropped back a little.

In front of us was a long sweeping blind bend, I kept watching the cop car behind us, it had dropped back even further.

We rounded the bend out of sight of the cop car, Gwyn maintained his speed at just under 30 mph, I had to keep changing gear on the Yamaha, it was struggling going so slow.

The blind bend lead us on to a long straight section of road, the cop car was totally out of sight now.

I kept checking my mirror, suddenly the cop car came around the corner at speed.

We had not travelled very far along the straight, the coppers slowed down again, the coppers in the car must have been hoping for us to make a run for it for some reason, they must have been as bored as me.

I bet they were surprised to see us only a few hundred yards further up the road when they came hurtling around the corner.

The car pulled up alongside us on the wrong side of the road, there was no danger of a head on collision as there was nothing on the road in any direction.

The copper in the passenger seat looked me up and down, I pretended I didn’t see him, I didn’t want to make eye contact with him, the car crept forward and pulled alongside Gwyn and his magic smoke machine, and strangely I could see both the coppers in the car were laughing, I could see one of the coppers pointing at me and then pointing at Gwyn, and laughing as they pulled away and sped off as if they had somewhere to go in a hurry.

This was the first and last time I went on a ride-out with this guy and his slug of a bike, he did ask me again, but I told him his bike was so slow I won't be doing it again, boredom was not the word for it, and riding behind a bike that as its own smoke screen is no fun.

Gwyn wanted to have a go on my RD 350, I told him he had no chance, I had seen him ride, and it would be like coming off a pushbike and trying to ride a rocket, but I did have a go on his CZ .

It started up after 3-4 kicks and sounded like someone had poured a bucket of steel ball bearings into a washing machine, as soon as it started up the two-stroke engine bellowed out its own personnel blue smoke screen.

After I rode the bike for around quarter of a mile, I found the bike as responsive as a dead slug, it took forever to climb up to 50 mph, it was impossible to see anything in the mirrors, just a constant blur of images, the amount of vibration the engine created would have made any woman happy, my hands were numb with constant vibes coming up through the handle bars, you do not realise how well-made Japanese bikes are until you ride one of these instruments of torture.

It took even longer to stop, the brakes were almost non-existent, I would even go as far to say the CZ’s would have been better off with fitting bicycle brake blocks, you had a better chance of putting your feet down and dragging them along the road, then using the stopping power of the standard brakes on this bike, ok I may be exaggerating a little but the brakes were terrible.

The forks acted like a twin set of Pogo sticks, which did not help the handling.

The electric system was cheap and nasty, I think the wiring must have been made with the same wiring as they use on domestic Christmas tree lights, and the wiring failed as often as Christmas lights, it is a well documented fact that the electrics on this model were prone to frying and melting the protective plastic wrapped around the wires causing all kinds of problems.

In my opinion it has to be one of the ugliest bike design ever, maybe with a few exceptions, but it is in my top ten of the ugliest bikes chart, very close to the top.

And overall the bike was a pile of offal and had nothing good in its favour, as many of you may have guessed already, I do not recommend this model of Jawa motorcycle.

I moved back home after six months when the Chrome vat was running with no problems, I could have gone a few months earlier, but waited until I was told to return back to Ofrex in llangeinor, Gwyn was a fool to himself, and someone is most likely still selling him crap goods.

After I left Cheltenham I never saw Gwyn or his CZ ever again, thank fuck.

Happy Days.

( Photo 3 ) . T.W.B. Metal Finishers, Cheltenham, the building with the line of small windows above the offices was the flat that I stayed in.