Gary Dick

The Old A100

This one will be a short but sweet one, but it is a bike that is very close to my heart and is part of the family. It all starts back before I was born, when my mum and dad were dating, he went to go and see my mum at my grandparent’s house and the bike was next door owned by Rab. Rab used it to get home from the pub, never parked in on its stand, just rested it on the wall by the handlebar like what we all did as a kid on our bicycles. His wife wanted rid of it and offered it to my dad for £10, that also included a helmet and leather jacket. My dad could ride this on his car driving license and this got him on two wheels on the road, I am sure he done some work on it to make it run better. My mum told me he gave up smoking to afford the parts for it. He decided he was going for his bike test and for this he had to pass a CBT which he done on this old 1978 100cc, He went on to sit his full bike test which again he done on the little Suzuki. He went on to buy his CX500 after that. After this my uncle Kev (he isn’t really my uncle but always been there as a close family friend before I was born) ran around on this and done his test on it as well. Eventually my uncle Zander ran around on this for a while until one unfortunate night.

Zander parked the bike outside my mum and dads house when I was young, I can remember my dad saying to him where did you park the bike, Zander thought my dad had moved it as a joke and just laughed and never took my dad serous. Turns out some kids had stolen the bike. My dad got word from a policeman later that night after looking for it that kids were riding a bike down next to the burn. My dad quickly went down with some of his friends to kindly get what belonged to him back. As my dad seen them riding it, screaming the engine, he caught the person just as he slowed down. My dad kindly grabbed the bike but before anything else could happen a policeman put his hand on my dads shoulder as said they would take it from there. My dad checked the damage, see they had ripped the original reg plate off which was a metal pressed plate, smashed the ignition barrel and other parts that were damaged.

My dad slowly rebuilt the engine and when I was 13 just after I stopped racing for the first time my dad signed the bike to me. He took me up to his work where I could learn how to work gears, I went from a twist and go with full race slicks, racing disc brakes and setting up for racing tracks to a geared bike that had skinny tyres and drum brakes. As soon as I felt like I was getting more confidant riding round his work he would start jumping out in-front if me to make me work the brakes. I always done about 90% of my braking on the front brakes, my dad was trying to teach me to use the rear brake, even to this day I still use to much of the front brake.

The bike was retired into the bottom hut where it sat for nearly 16 years, until the dreaded lockdown happened. My dad stays in the house across the drive-way from me, he was tidying out his garden as there was not much else to do except work, he cleaned the bottom hut out and seen the wee bike sitting there, we pulled it out and blow the tyres up, fired some fresh petrol and 2 stroke in it and kicked it over, after about the 5^th kick it started up like it had never stopped. We took it for a quick up and down the garden like I did all those years ago when I was younger and decided to tart it up a little and put it through its MOT. After it passed, I spent many of days ridding the bike, on a Saturday morning I would go across the fourth road bridge, because it was under 125cc I could use the old bridge then make my way through Limekilns, Culross and found some little gems for food. I done this on a big bike but it didn’t seem the same, went to quick, the little bike was more relaxing and more of an adventure. I joined a classic motorcycle club which I will talk about on another story. My little classic will be on display at the bike show where I use to go every year. The little bike which is part of the family will be viewed by hopefully someone who has a similar or better story with their family history and bikes. Overall, this little bike isn’t just a bike, the bike feels like part of the family as has great history with the friends and family that have ridden this bike. Hopefully my Daughter and Son will continue on with this bike and it will run for another 40 years.

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is 310809501_855605689144789_7906541162757098677_n.jpg — Running up and down to work

Falkirk to Cornwall, I loved the trip. Wife never.

The reason I bought my Pan. Back in October 2021 we decided that for the October break we would take a little trip down south for what we hoped was going to be better weather. We found a static caravan down in Newquay cheap as the school holidays were not on. A little background to us, I owned a Honda Deauville 650 and had mainly been riding this with the odd shot of my Dads ST1100 pan which he kindly let us have for the week, the wife (Lymara) has only had around 3 hours total on the back of a motorcycle. So, for the challenge of Falkirk to Newquay was going to be fun. I have only ridden with a little weight or just the wife, not 5 days’ worth of clothes and the wife so this was going to be a learning curve. We set off from Falkirk on the Sunday afternoon for a leisurely ride down to Bristol, 390 miles where we would stop over. As soon as we hit Glasgow, we received a nice light shower of rain which was off and on until we got to around Carlisle then we got blue skies for the rest of trip, we stopped twice, once for a burger king, fuel and toilet break and the other for just fuel. Lymara was feeling a little tender by the time we stopped but was not too bad, I found the pan faultless and comfortable all the way down there, when it came to filtering the first time with all the weight, I was a bit hesitant so took it easy as there were a few road works on the way. Once we stopped in Bristol, dumped all the luggage in the hotel room and away to find a shop for some crisps and juice or pop as we got told down there, it was only when we got back on the bike, I felt it hard to get my leg across it, think the tiredness had kicked in. After a good night sleep, we got our breakfast then took off for the rest of the journey, only another 3 hours ride until we got to the place, we set off on a really nice morning enjoying the scenery, not long after passing Exeter I said to the wife I will need to get fuel shortly as seen the gauge getting lower. She soon heard me on the intercom somewhat starting to panic as I never seen any signs up for a petrol station on the A30, the fuel light was not on, but all things start to play on your head like, what if the bulb has gone and I am going to run out, luckily, we see a sign for services in 10 miles. It was only when I stopped and put the bike on its side stand for the wife to get off the light came on. A quick splash and dash we were back on the road and in Cornwall shortly followed by a tour of Newquay which we quickly found is just giant hills which when fully loaded was fun… After we got into our caravan it was clear we picked the right choice of vehicle for getting about Cornwall, we visited Bodmin for the day where it was shorts and t-shirt weather as well as big motorbike boots as only the jackets, helmets, trousers, and her boots that fitted in the box. Talk about sweety feet! Getting about Cornwall on the bike was great as the roads were perfect with some cracking views! Time had come and we were heading home on the Friday, we set off at 9am and as soon as we left it was just traffic followed by more traffic. When we were on the M5 heading towards the M6 we got diverted and the satnav which was on my phone playing through my ear took us back south again before taking us on the dreaded M1 which takes us up the wrong side of the country and this was followed by…. More traffic to even complete stand stills. We stopped for another Burger King and looked at the ETA time which was showing 9pm. We got back on the bike trying to make up time when it came to traffic and get through it and then we hit the A66 which I thought with it being later and dark by this point we should get through it not too bad, well this was another stand still situation, luckily, we were on the bike so when we could get past stationary cars and truck we took advantage of this. Lymara decided to chat via the intercoms on the A66 instead of listening to the music, but she never said very much but I thought it was down to tiredness, I felt fine but knew she was feeling sore, we decided to stop at Southwait services just as we got back on the motorway and then it showed how she felt. When we stopped, she struggled to get off the bike as her hip and right leg was killing her. After we were both off the bike she limped in the services and could see by her face she was struggling, this was around 7pm and still had another two and bit hours ridding. We found a seat and I gave her a hand to get her shoes off and her bike trousers off to get comfortable. As I went to the toilet, I even had a guy ask how she was and said, “that’s the reason my wife only manages an hour on a bike.” After a break for about 45 minutes, she managed to get back on the bike but by this time the misty rain and darkness had come. We set off trying to make progress for the time lost but found my visor was getting bad with steaming up, think it is time to invest in a pinlock sheet, so I had to ride with it up a notch and this can only be described as a bad idea as my nose was in pain as well as my throat. As we got the exit for Larbert in Falkirk I could feel my fingers not waiting to play ball and the last 5 mins of the journey was the hardest part of it. We pulled up in the driveway where my dad had been watching on the tracker, we fitted on the bike to see where it was and had the garage open waiting for me to get the bike in the garage. As soon as we stopped in the driveway Lymara was off and away to lay down on the couch, 13 hours after we left. Overall, would I do this trip again, yes, in a heartbeat, I really enjoyed it even though it was full of boring motorways but just showed how comfortable the old ST1100 is and how reliable the old girl is. After we got home, I was on eBay looking at bikes and have now purchased a ST1100 ex police bike for myself. Hopefully this year me and my dad can go away on our pans together. I am also aiming to do the iron butt challenge for blood bike Scotland charity. If you have enjoyed this, leave a comment or tell me what you would like more. Would be much appreciated!

Just outside the caravan waiting to get our keys for the week.

Fishing hut or smugglers den? Somewhere for the fishermen to sleep and blow horns to warn of dangers

When we stopped for a pee break, the downside of a pillion on mostly motorways, boredom so a quick check of the phone

Why motorcycles?

Big speel here but give it a chance.

A visit to my grandad’s house on the CX500

Why motorcycles?

My love for motorcycles started at an early age, my first memory of it was my dad riding his Suzuki A100 round a car park at the old library, if I can remember he was showing one of my uncles who was doing there CBT or test how to ride. After him going round in circles he allowed me to sit on the back and the love instantly hit! He bought me a helmet, gloves and an old second-hand leather jacket and I felt like the coolest kid on the planet. Shortly after we went out a little ride on his old Honda CX500. I can remember the speed, the noise, the smell of it when I jumped off the bike when we stopped. I was hooked, we had only ridden about 4-5 miles to visit my grandparents. Soon after this we would attend bike shows, bike rallies and of course the bike racing.

My grandad and my dad when I was little on a toy scooter,

One of my dads close friends Ronnie had an old Honda express 50cc, as soon as my foot touched the floor (well very close to it) he left it with us for a few weeks, this meant endless hours of riding up and down my garden with this old twist and go, my confidence grew with this and soon after I was trying skids in my parents back garden leaving marks all over the grass. My dad took me and my cousin along with my uncles down to a bit of land where I could go faster with it, I seen my dad having a carry-on riding which I found hilarious at the time and seen my dad smiling whilst riding like some one from the purple helmets. This sparked another love of trying stupid things on bikes, from jumps to doughnuts but that is something for a different time. A yearly routine for us was to go to the bike show in Edinburgh where we would see stunt riding, the purple helmets, race bikes and where I saw Minibike racing! If I can remember it was £10 for 10 mins on one of those which I happily tried. My dad was not with us this year, so I was with my uncles who were all bikers. They handed a form out which said something like win a mini race bike for a year. This was before these Chinese copy minimotos were even thought about so no one had ever really seen them except at the bike shows.

We filled out the form and went for the try outs, well over sixty kids tried out and they were only giving out twenty bikes, ten for juniors and ten for seniors (over 13) my dad could not make the start of the try outs as he was picking up his new car that day. I went out and tried my hardest and to be honest, I did not think I had done any good, but I stayed on so that was a bonus. My mum and dad came to the track as McIntosh minibikes called the parents in to a room. My mum and dad sat me down after that to explain how costly it would be and how much time I would need to put into it. I had won a bike for a year. We went up to Tranent to pick up the bike that night after they semi prepped it, we took it down to john Welsh’s who agreed to sponsor us that year and Dougie and my uncle done some other bits to it to make it ready for the following day where I was riding up in Aberdeen on a Karting track. We walked in to see a kid called Muzz who I can always remember having a Dennis the Mennis helmet on, we referred to him as Dennis for a long time until we found out his name. He went flying past us hanging off this little pocket rocket with his knee on the ground going round the bottom corner of the track, this was a lot faster than we had seen any minibike go. My first thought was just to load the car back up with the bike, its too fast for us. Me and a boy called Lee both went out, the split the session for faster folk and beginners, it was only me and lee with these new bikes, we were both out on the beginner group ourselves. Over the sessions Tosh was giving us hints and tips about getting fast and building our confidence up on the bikes. By the end of the session I were in the group with the fast guys and getting my knee down, unfortunately I had knee pads that they gave people to try, the rivets that held the straps were sparking like mad, this did not stop me getting passed and lapped many times but I was just happy to get out with the faster guys.

As the season went on people were getting rid of the free bike for a year and buying the faster and better handling bikes, unfortunately for team Dick we never had that budget and had to give up at the end of the year, it was years later when me and my dad became close I found out how much stress and upset this caused for him and my mother as when I was young racing you never thought about budgets. To this day I am eternally grateful they gave me a chance and sorry for the things I put them through being a grumpy teenager when it was concerning bikes.

I went back to just being a pillion passenger and seeing if I could get a ride of anything available before getting on the road myself.

When I was around 14-15 we were going to a bike rally in Kelso, the one weekend of camping and motorcycles that still blows my mind to this day, we even seen Eddie Kidd going round on a quad bike in the arena then watched as he was lifted to his chair, A true legend of motorcycles, unfortunately this was one of my dad’s last motorcycle rides for a long time. For years my dad never told me why he sold his bike and gave up until we were having a drink and it came out then, when we were going down the Deauville he was riding was on the heavier side and with me on the back, we went in to a corner just after passing a tractor, nothing to fast but the bike didn’t handle right at that point, my dad managed to get it round and to be honest I never really noticed anything but for my dad this was enough. He admits if I were not on the back, it would not have bothered him or gave a second thought but because he had his kid on, the bike was sold the following weekend and for years I never knew why.

Sixteen young and dumb, I done my CBT and had a SR50, we had a group of about 8 or 9 scooters where we went everywhere, Unforturantly the scooter is the only vehicle I have been done for speeding with and only vehicle I got points on, meant fun for insurance after that.

I started buying dirt bikes to play on and two guys from my work had them also, this meant every Sunday we were going out playing with the bikes, I loved going through puddles and just pinning the throttle on the CR250. It was a deep sense of freedom free roaming on the bike, it did have its downsides, the bike blowing up in the snow or chain pinging off when you were in fourth going for it.

I went back to the minibikes not long after my daughter was born. My dad was back on the tools, and I was back chasing speed. Going back as an adult was hard as the old body does not bounce like it use to, I spent many days after a race meeting in a lot of pain recovering to race the next again Sunday. I met many friends from who I had raced against before to young and up coming stars who are now competing in BSB, Moto 3 and 2 and WSB riders, also unfortunately lost a friend as he succumbed to his injuries when out on his big bike, James Williamson will always be remembered by me and my dad as I rival and a good friend. The minibike racing is an excellent platform for young racing hopefuls who want to make a career in motorcycling.

I played about with bikes back and forth, either fixing them in the unit me and my dad were in or having a shot back and forth but the love for bikes had slowly become less and less. I think it may have had something to do with fixing them with no fun at the other end or my group of friends were not really into bikes at the time, how everything changed again when lockdown happened. We brought out the little 100cc my dad passed his test in all those years as it was in the hut in between our driveways, we stuck fresh petrol and two stroke in it and it fired up 3^rd or 4^th kick. We stuck it in for a MOT and it passed, after riding this about for a little while I went and bought a Deauville, the same bike my dad had when we went to Kelso and a pan which is the same as what my dad rides now.

In a way it has went full circle as I now take my son on the back of my bike and hoping to have more adventures with him from wild camping, to food reviews when camping with him to other daft things he wants to do hopefully bike related, we also hope that my dad can join us as well as my uncles all those years ago can come with us as well and start to pass the torch on to him so he can have a life when motorcycling is a big part.

I hope to do a blog on the minibike racing and why the importance of it, the good the bad and the ugly side of racing..

Me in April 2003 with my first minibike in Aberdeen

Sons first pillion ride!

Father’s Day and my son had decided he wanted to spend the day with me, unfortunately I had made tops up for a British superbikes support series team and had to drop them off at Knockhill but luckily my son thought it would be a good time spend watching the racing with is my favourite sport to watch. We set off in the morning with a little stop at Tim Hortons for breakfast, after some pancakes and muffins we set off to Knockhill. It was a quiet road so we thought we would have a nice easy gentle ride there. Declan held on to my waist band on my jacket which I liked as I could feel him holding on. After all, he was only 8 at the time. When it came to some of the back roads, I could feel his grip getting tighter and the occasional giggle or scream. I had forgot to charge the intercom up for his helmet which meant doing it the way I was taught on the back of my dad’s bike all those years ago, when my dad was going to go, he would tap me on my leg before opening the throttle, I explained to Declan about it, but I think he held on tight the whole was without relaxing once. When on the last road to Knockhill we seen a photographer on one of the bends so got our photo done, a big thank you to bikepic.co.uk as these pictures were awesome and because we were riding a Honda it was free downloads. As we got near Knockhill the traffic for the cars where right back, luckily this is where 2 wheels really make it fun as we filtered past the traffic with the other bikes, Declan had seen bikes pass by us in the car before but never really picked up that they were filtering past traffic to get to the front. I think he enjoyed looking at the cars knowing we were passing them to beat them in to the car park. We watched the racing but due to the big gaps in the timetable we spent time at the play park which had recycled shredded tyres as the base to make it nice and soft and time walking around the pits which I enjoyed watching as it is one part that I am really interested in, the repairs! We also had a wonder about the stalls where he decided he wanted to buy his own gloves for the bike. We left before the final race had been as we mainly went to give Sam Munro racing his tops and watch him race which meant the roads were still empty and left me ride with out the stress of it being busy as I was a little on edge with Declan being on the back, we seen Bikerpics.co.uk still out and got an amazing picture as Declan was looking straight at the camera. After 30 or 40 mins on the bike we got home. He now wants to have a boys weekend on the bike which I can not wait for. If you have enjoyed this, leave a comment or tell me what you would like more. Would be much appreciated!

Wild camping in September in Scotland.

On the last weekend of September a group of us went a run with a bit of wild camping, I set off met the rest of the group at Stirling services. We rid to Gargunnock, back down to Balloch, up towards Tarbet on to the A83, by the rest and be thankful to butter bridge then towards Inveraray where we had a quick stop and a pee. After the short stop we headed back down towards Castleton, up towards Lochgilphead, up towards Oban, across Connel bridge the roads and amazing views were breath taking and will be doing this trip again, up to Glencoe where we stopped for something to eat, unfortunately due to medical issues I only had Mac and Cheese which was amazing but when I saw what the others got, I can only say I was jealous as it looked amazing. We got a bag of wood as well from a petrol station for when we stopped. We headed back off and turned off the beacon track just before the kings house to more amazing views, the reason I have ordered a GoPro, about 30-40 mins after turning off the main road. We found a stop which we could fit the 5 bikes in the side of the road. We had to cross a small stream which had been filled with roads and camped on a mini island, the what3words is ///property.gravitate.forkful if you want to look. We set up our tents before the sun went down, around 18.00 and set up our fire which lasted until mid-night. Due to my dietary needs, I used a army ration bag MRE and even the cooker you can buy for the mesh tins, the others had the jet boil for their rolls and square sausage, I had the beans and sausage which was fantastic as when you are slightly cold and hungry anything tastes amazing. Me and my son are planning to review these ration packs doing some wild camping on the bike for his YouTube channel. We packed up leaving as we found it, as they say, leave no trace then loaded the bikes up, we headed off down towards the green welly for a short stop then down to Callander. The bike ran faultlessly and was a great bike to run, even when we left in the Scottish mist which just wet everything, the bike kept me going. After Callander it was just a short trip to Stirling then back home to Falkirk. The tracker showed the route we took to get there, unfortunately the tracker had a hiccup and never picked up the run home.