Five years ago this month, as, once again, the country was locked down, I was, like most of the bike-interested population hammering online auction sites and classic bike traders looking for something to do.
I'd already finished restoring two bikes - at maybe ten times the speed of my pre-Covid efforts, thanks to the continuity opportunity - but was also itching to ride. The thing was, during lockdowns you had to prove you were riding for essential reasons.
Then the penny dropped. Gazing out of an upstairs window down at my back garden - all three-quarters of an acre of it - I had one of those lateral-thinking moments: what a great circuit it would be for my stashed away nitro-powered radio controlled car.
Then my mind took another lateral step: could it possibly be a circuit for my '72 Yamaha DT250 trailie? Hmm. Actually, might be a bit tight for a trail bike...
...but what about a trials bike...?
I headed for my home office, found a trials riding educational book on my shelves (which I'd never even opened after being gifted it years before), and having worked through it decided that trials riding appealed to me.
Next morning I steamed into a search, and not really knowing what I was looking for settled on what appeared to be a reasonably current-looking bike, but still 30 years old: a 1992 Beta Gara 260. It was running and riding, but with a few minor tinkering bits required - carb clean being the main job, replacing a rear wheel spoke when I was minded.
Being Covid, I couldn't really drive 50 miles to go check it out at the dealer - and he didn't want to be having people in his place anyway - so I had a chat with him (although I can't say I warmed to him, given his impatient and, frankly, patronising response to my classic novice questions...), but, it being Covid, and it being the cheapest and soonest available machine, I agreed to buy it, and he agreed to deliver it.
When he turned up his demeanour remained awkward - so he was the first-ever visiting biker not to be offered a brew.
First lesson: don't buy unseen. This was a trials bike that had lived a life, and clearly been in the wars. Tatty, but straight. Photos always make bikes look better.
Second, trials bikes are compact to say the least. Turning the fuel on was a challenge at best. I could see the tap, but it was so buried above the carb between frame rails I couldn't work out how to get at it. Eventually, skinned knuckles and a little finger technique got it switched on.
Next, when a trials riding book says wear bike boots when you're trying to kick start it, do exactly that.
The kick start was on the left. It was a completely alien feeling. Slowly pushing down on it to make sure there was some compression had me believing it might even have seized. Putting my full 80 kilos into it, I could tell it wasn't.
The seller had started it easy enough, so my turn to get it running. A big push with my left foot, and, of course, I was wearing my Nike runners when it kicked back. I was not expecting a two-stroke to do that. And, boy, it was painful on the barely-protected sole of my foot.
A bit of hobbling and some colourful language and I returned wearing my bike boots, the Beta leaning against the garage like a cross between a waiting thug and a pouting diva.
There's definitely a knack to kicking a big single-cylinder two stroke, and after nearly going over the bars I finally nailed it.
It sounded lazy, and grunty. It felt weird to be on, but made muscle-memory sense after a bit.
But trundling round the garden tackling a few humps and steps - clearly way below its capabilities - it clicked just how capable even this relic was. Garden riding and familiarisation, then practicing staying stationary feet-up - these were all really good moves.
Why? Because when I turned up at a trials riding school with my old Beta when lockdown was lifted along with a pile of other people who'd bought bikes, tinkered and tidied them but not ridden them, I was relatively experienced on the basics.
But, of course, it kept breaking down.
Solution? Juggled my collection, sold the Beta to somebody who wanted to tinker and use it as an unstoppable trail bike, then went out and bought a 15-year-old Sherco 290.
And promptly tore a ligament in my shoulder demonstrating the bike had far more ability than I did….
But as otherwise pretty safe fun, it was pretty well unbeatable.
And, as can be seen from a recent HJ Pugh & Co auction of a 1996 Beta Techno 250, absolutely bargains.
Images courtesy of H.J Push & Co Auctioneers.
