Home / History / Forum / Indian / Trikes / Bikes / Cars / Projects / Links / Media / Silly

Back in 1996 I bought an A10 BSA Chopper. Its registration was OOM 89. It was red, and it was pretty horrible. But I forked out the £250 asking price (a lot of money then). I never even rode it. Ripped it to bit’s the same day. A couple of months later, the Ugly Duckling re-appeared from my shed as a Swan. No…actually, it was a Lowrider, before that term had even been invented. I rode it around for a while until, as a result of too much

right hand, it threw a rod. 

About that time, I’d read an article in Motorcycle Mechanics featuring a bike where the owner had fitted a Reliant car engine in a bike. As I couldn’t afford to rebuild the Super Rocket motor (it had holed the crankcase, ripped the bottom off the barrels and snapped the camshaft), I realised I could get a car engine for a tenner, so I set off to the local scrap yard to buy a Reliant. That article inspired me, but the bloke had done a right bodge-job fitting it. I knew I could do better.

There were several Reliants in the yard, and I was just about to pull one out, when I saw a weird car out of the corner of my eye. It said “NSU 1200” on the boot. I decided to have a look. I opened the bonnet, and it was empty. Oh well, back to the Reliant Regal. But, as I walked around the little NSU, I noticed the bootlid was slightly open. I lifted it up, and there it was. A mass of rusty tin. But squinting through the tinwear, I could see fins. It was air-cooled. It was rear engined too….silly me! I’d never heard of these cars, but the fact it was an air-cooled 1200-4 was very appealing. I handed over £25 for it. A couple of hours later, it was in
my shed.

I was working in a small country garage at the time, and my boss kindly let me use his ancient lathe and Mig welder after hours. One evening I was talking to a right weird bloke in the pub. He told me he’d got a brand new set of “Springer” forks. I doubted him, but we agreed on a price of £25 and an Air Rifle. Bugger me…the next Sunday he walked into the pub with them slung over

his shoulder! I walked out with them slung over mine. They were indeed brand new, and made by non other than John Reed…“Uncle Bunt”
The first job on this rebuild was to rake the frame. Because of the length of the forks, I added 4” into the downtubes. To get the engine in, the frame was cut in Half and stretched 4”. It looked BRILLIANT, but something was niggling me. It took some sussing, but by removing the timing chain cover and turning it over, I realised that the motor rotated anti-clockwise. Nearly every other engine rotates clockwise! Out with the motor, cut all the mounts off, and back in. That old faded picture was taken after I wheeled it out of the workshop so I could stand back and admire it. If you look closely, you can see it’s still wearing the “Lowrider”s paint.

To connect the engine to the BSA gearbox, I made up a “Cross-Shaft” (see drawing on right) using a pair of Mini rear hubs as bearings.The rest of the build was reasonably straight forward, little jobs like making the exhausts. The kickstart had to be heated and bent to clear the pipes, and ended up being just 6” long! Bear in mind, the only equipment I had was a knackered lathe, a small mig and a grinder.
A change of jobs meant it had to be moved out, and a change of women meant I was temporarily living back with Mum and Dad, so it was moved into his garage. I decided to have a few bits chromed. Well, a lot of bits actually. There was just one little problem, I was
currently serving “Driving-Ban 5” and had no transport. The ‘Platers were down in London.

Quick solution, I borrowed my Mums shopping basket….one of those silly things on wheels. Stuck the exhausts, sissy bar and assorted parts in it and put the rest in a rucksack. One train journey, a trip on the Underground, and a ride on a bus later, and they were at “Antoxides of Hackney”. A month later, I collected them the same way.

While the plating was away, I got the frame ready. Hours of sanding and moulding. It was sprayed in the girlfriends spare bedroom, in white Candy Apple with a “StarPearl” flip-flop overlay. It changed colour as you walked around it! There was a mural on the tank that was only visible through the flipflop when the light was in the right direction. I also needed a name for it. At this time, I was in the Punk band at the time, and my favourite single was by a band called “999”, called “Nasty Nasty”. Possibly one of the fastest Punk singles I’d ever heard, and very appropriate. I went to see them once. Before they came on, the Roadies laid towels by their amps. I’ve never seen such a fast band! They sweated buckets!
What had started as a “Quick Engine Swap”, was to end up taking nine months, working every spare hour. My mates down the pub thought I’d died!
With the paint done and the plating back, it was assembly time. As it was going together, my
Dad, who had previously shown Zero interest, suddenly started popping into his garage.

Finally, the day came to try and start it. I had no idea if it was going to fire up, and my heart was pounding as I switched it on. My Dad had appeared again, and, heaving on the 6” kickstart, I attempted to get the freshly rebuilt motor to turn over. There hadn’t been room to fit the starter and a big battery. It wouldn’t have it, and I was starting to sweat. “Why don’t we bump it” my Dad

suggested. It was “We” now. So I pushed it to the road. Next thing I know, My Dad’s got hold of the Sissy Bar, and we’re pushing. “VROOOOOM”! It fired up straight away. It was pretty loud, as the word “Baffle” isn’t in my vocabulary.
Shaking somewhat, I took it for its first ride. It pulled like a train, and the handling was excellent. From that day on, it always fired first kick.
When I turned up at the Pub on it, my mates were gob smacked. They knew I was building a car-engined bike, but I never told them it was a full “Chop”. Someone muttered “Munch Mammoth” to me. A name that was to be mentioned many times. I’d never heard of Friedl Munch. Turned out he was producing a series of bikes called Munch Mammoths in Germany. They were in the Guinness Book of Records for being the fastest production bike in the world, with a top speed of 202mph. The weird thing I found when stripping mine, was the logo “VW”
stamped on all eight rocker covers. These engines were designed by VW…possibly by

Ferdinand Porsche!
Over the nine months it had taken to build, I’d gotten used to it, so it took me a bit by surprise when I saw the reaction it provoked. Everytime I parked it up, it was instantly surrounded. Bear in mind there weren’t too many Chops about in 1979. So I took it to the Hells Angels show at the “Halfway Caff. It won “Best Engineering, so I decided to do a few more shows, and to say it was a success was an understatement. In 1980 it appeared in “The Biker” magazine, and they also put out a poster of it. Anyone got one?

This bike was built to ride, and 200-mile trips were the “norm”. I’d changed the gearing on it, so 70mph was little more than a fast tickover. People riding with me on the then newish Honda CB750’s would ask me to slow down! The NSU bug had bitten, and I went on to build a few more. My current “New Project” is an NSU-4 Trike. It took over a year to find an engine, and it cost a damn site more than £25!!!

After several years, I decided to sell “Nasty”. I put it up for £1200, but no-one wanted it. I think they were a bit scared of it. In the end, I cut it up with a gas-axe and used the parts on different projects.