Home Contents Bike Park Bar Lounge Library Office Notice Board Twinned with
![]() |
![]() ![]() |
Click
each photo for it to open up in full sceen, then use the back button in
your browser to return to the article. Do let me know if you have any
problems. The Adventures with a 1923 P & M "The P&M motorcycle is as simple as it's possible for a motorcycle to be" - so says the first line in the bikes instruction book. Now that is a bit of an understatement, I must say. The story starts back in April when I had an email from James Hewing at HQ saying that the club had been given the loan of a 1923 P&M motorcycle and how would I like to be the first custodian and use it during my Presidential year. Initial thoughts were ' what on earth do I want another bike for, I've got 20'. Anyway, it's always possible to squeeze another solo in the garage so I said ok. James then said that there was a write-up in the May Journal that was out the following week. With glee, I opened the envelope and flicked through the pages looking for pictures of this new charge that I had taken on. When I saw the photos I was amazed to see that it had a sidecar - how on earth was I going to find space in the garage for that. It took two days of tidying and re-arranging things before I came up with the room needed to house the outfit. The next job was to collect it. Jean and I had entered the Burton Parade with the Indian on the 9th May and after a couple of emails to check the size of the outfit, I decided that it would be best to leave the Indian at home as trailer space may not have been enough to carry both machines, so we headed for Burton with an empty trailer. My job at the event was to flag everyone off and then at the end present all the prizes. Duty done we got away about 5pm and set off to collect the new stable mate. I suppose that it was around 9pm when we eventually arrived home and unloaded the outfit. I sat on the bike and rolled it down our drive, stopping just outside the garage door. Jean, who watched it all said "Bloody hell, we have a bike with brakes". Personally I think she's losing her sense of adventure, who needs brakes? So, back to where we came in and the Instruction book - am I glad there is one. The bike is a four speed 4.5hp side valve. Something around 555cc, but how does it work? there's no clutch lever. Harry Wiles, who took the bike for an MOT, reckoned that it had a four speed David Brown gearbox, but that didn't come in until 1924. However, the 1923 model does have four speeds, and they're found through a two speed gearbox being driven by two primary drives of different ratios. Have you figured that yet? It seems that the clutch is operated by wedges that open out the clutches inside each drum - a bit like those on a two speed Scott, I suppose. Each gear comes in as the lever is pushed into its slot in the quadrant, like a H gearchange on a car. As the lever is moved from the neutral centre it operates the clutch - easy really, at least I hope so. Briefly, the history behind the outfit is that it was acquired by Angus Martin in 1950 and he passed away in 1990. The bike remained with the Martin family and was loaned out to a nephew in Northern Ireland who replaced the gas light tubing and treated the woodworm under the seat in the sidecar - a fact that Jean was not happy knowing about, as she was going to be the one to sit in it. Anyhow, the nephew wanted to 'spruce the outfit up a bit' and the family refused, as they wanted to keep the bike in it's 'as found' condition. I've just spent a couple of hours with the bike and must say that it is a really lovely time capsule. It's 87 years old and is exactly as it left the factory all those years ago - as someone said to me once, "you can restore a bike anytime, but you cannot re-create originality". How true that is. Have a really good look when you see the outfit as Jean and I hope give it a few outings this year. It comes complete with a tonneau cover and an adjustable windscreen - both of which will be too fragile to use. Having said that, it was noticed that the sidecar light had been stolen when the outfit was on display in the Stanford Hall Museum. What hasn't been noticed is that the light generator for the sidecar lamp is also missing. Ivan Rhodes has kindly donated a lamp that I will have to sort a clamp for. Another thing that has gone walkabouts is the original tax disc holder, the outline of which can be seen on the sidecar body. None of these small problems will keep the outfit off the road - but the broken oil pump may and that is something that I have to look at. I did wonder why there was a piece of inner tubing acting as a rubber band around the feed pipe to the oil pump, basically it's there to keep the pump together. There are also signs that it has been repaired with araldite - see the last photo below. All will become clear when I take it apart for investigations. Meanwhile watch this space as each outing that the bike takes will be recorded here.
![]() ![]() ![]() With the pump stripped I had it looked at by an expert, with a view to getting it welded, however, the pump body turned out to be made of Mazak. It's that horrible stuff that is used to make cheap castings and crumbles eventually, making it impossible to repair. A 'proper' job was tried using JB Weld, which is What to make the body out of was a dilemma - aluminium, brass, bronze. In the end I plumped for bronze and obtained a nice big chunk for machining. Not an easy, or quick, job at all. Anyway, I machined the new body and silver soldered the connecting stub on with it's 3/8 BSP thread. Next job was to re-assemble the pump. I must say that I have never seen such a complicated piece of engineering in all my life. Why make something simple when it can be made complicated. ![]() The
workings took some figuring out, I can tell you, as when I
dis-assembled the pump all the parts dropped onto the bench, which did
not give me the opportunity to study how it was assembled. In the end I
was able to figure out what every part did and it all went together ok.
The next job was to refit the pump to the motor and see if it worked
properly.After a week in Scarborough at the end of June, riding our Morini, we returned home and after a small amount of work on the Morini I fitted the rebuilt pump to the P&M. I was a bit worried concerning the new pump body in that it mustn't look too new, and even though it's made of bronze, after the silver soldering it has a slightly aged look. I'm sure that it will weather in even more in time. 5th July - Instruction manual out - and read about how to prime the pump - not too difficult, thank goodness. Now to run the motor for the first time since Harry took it for an MOT. It was a case of deciding which control did what and then start the motor. Second kick and she was away. I've never heard such a sweet sounding engine in all my life - now, at last, for a ride. Guess what? after weeks of sunshine, the weather decided to turn today and outside the garage it was pouring down, so the first outing is postponed. The oil pump? - it worked like a dream, delivering dribbles of oil every so often, just as it should. 6th July - The day after fitting the pump, it was time for the first ride. It was recommended that I swap the throttle controls to the left hand handlebar so as to be able to operate the gear lever with the right hand, so that was done. Easing off down the road and there was quite a bit of clutch slip in first gear, second was ok, third had slip and top, or fourth gear, was fine. Loads of power from the motor and I did enjoy the ride around our village. Next job is to tighten up the controls as the throttle and air levers did not stay put without keeping a hand on them, easy job that. Also the gearlever needed tightening so as to hold the clutch in. After checking the gear lever movement it looked as though it was on maximum travel for first and third - so it seems that some investigation may need to be done so as to diagnose the problem and get the gear to lock home. However, another run is called for before taking anything to bits as it may well settle down. Top of page |