Roadholder 364 - April 2018

8 Harold was a good engineer and knew all there was to know about Nortons. He spent quite a lot of time showing me just how he wanted things done. My dad (who had raced a Norton in his time), said that working on the bench with Harold was like "sitting at the right hand … ." I think he got a bit bored of being in the office and liked to get 'hands-on' in the workshop. I learned one very important lesson very early on while working on an old Dommie with electrical troubles. There was no output from the dynamo, the brushes seemed OK, so I went up to the shop to see if we had a new one or a service exchange in stock. Harold said "if the chap wanted a new one he would have asked for it, but he brought it in to be fixed". So, back to the bench I went and sorted it out. Even though selling spares was the trade, I learned to mend things and fitting a new part was a last resort - a lesson for life which has stood me in good stead ever since. My early training, as a scientific instrument maker, also stood me in good stead in this direction. I thought that if that's what was wanted, I would sort it. So in my spare time, I had a big clear-out, gave the benches a coat of paint and some better lighting etc., I now felt at home; it was like the instrument makers. The old shop looked just as it had done for many years. Above the windows were listed, in gold lettering, most of Harold's more important wins and lap records. We seldom had any other make of bike in the shop, just Nortons. The 65 Dartmouth Rd. premises provided a small showroom, about six or eight bikes, some spares and all the consumables, like spark plugs, oil, tyres etc., an office at the rear and a workshop below and at the rear. The workshop below was equipped with some useful engineering equipment: lathe, grinder, pillar drill, press, etc. The work benches in both workshops, one of which I still use today, were made from wartime Morrison air-raid shelters. On the other side of a small service road, another shop, No. 63, provided the spares parts store, which included just about every part for every model and year. Many of the parts were ex-WD; still in brown grease. Every corner contained some interesting gem, if you knew what you were looking at. Dave Stanley was the spare parts man, he was a wizard and knew most part numbers off the top of his head and could cross-match parts from models dating back to the '20s up to the latest AMC-produced bikes. The other member of the team was Pat Adams, whose cool, calm efficiency with the paperwork 'back of house' kept the whole place on an even keel. Spare parts were sent all over the country and to many parts of the world. I sometimes had to help out, wrapping spares and, most afternoons, Dave needed a hand taking the parcels down the road to the post office. We had great fun wrapping odd shaped bits, exhaust pipes, frames, wheels, etc. The shop didn't close until six in the evening and often, days ended with Harold, Dave and myself leaning on the shop counter yarning and serving the odd customer who called in on their way home from work. On one such evening, a young lad came in and asked if he could buy a Manx fly screen for his 250 Enfield which was parked outside. Harold said he couldn't and when asked "why not?" was told that "it wouldn't catch the flies up". The poor lad left scratching his head. One very notable feature of working at the shop was the loyal customer base: many old guys had been coming in since before the war; there were no frills, just good service, sound advice and an honest deal. One such customer was the owner of a well-known manufacturer of sand paper and emery cloth, who had a private Norton museum. He sent various parts of his Nortons, both large and small to be mended, in a large black chauffeur- driven limo. I worked on all the Norton models, young and old, except for a short-stroke Manx engine, which was passed to Harold's brother- in-law, Steve Lancefield. I got to know Steve quite well over time. He lived and worked his magic in Harold's old family home, which looked just as it had when he was a boy (as in family photos). Steve came with me one day to look at a 350 Manx I was thinking of buying. I left without buying it after Steve had pointed out that "this was wrong" and "that wasn't as it should be". I felt quite sorry for the guy selling it, as I don't think he expected such an expert to turn up.