He regrets buying back his old Bullet

Read the full story of Paul Jeffries' battle with his Bullet in RideApart.
(Photo by Paul Jeffries)

 "I bought my old bike back 30 years later, and I wish I never had," Paul Jeffries wrote in RideApart last December. The bike was an early Royal Enfield Bullet, and his column was interesting. 

I'm of two minds. 

Was his regret at his recovery of a motorcycle that was once his fondest dream an object lesson for the rest of us? 

Nostalgia puts a high gloss on our happy memories of the past. Can we ever really relive those moments? 

On the other hand, well... who wouldn't like to try to recapture those sunny days we remember? 

Here's his story, briefly: 

"A little over 30 years ago, I owned a beautiful Royal Enfield Bullet. It was my pride and joy, and a real labor of love bike...

"It was also a symbol of my youth and, in a story I’m sure many can relate to, it survived the first child but had to go when the second rolled around...

"That was until one day in 2023 though, when I was looking through eBay and there it was – my bike...

So he bought it back. And that is when the regrets started:

"With each issue that was fixed, another one would pop up...

"The damn thing was cursed – it was like it was holding a grudge against me for getting rid of it all those years ago... "

"Learn from my mistake, and leave those cherished memories of a bike gone by where they belong – in the past."

A truly sad story, and most readers who left comments sided with his feelings. I preferred the one comment that did not:

"You can get that happiness back if you hang in there. It can't stay angry at you forever, and as soon as it's reliable you'll forget the bad times," one man wrote. Is that right?

I essentially "bought" my 1999 Bullet back again by paying a lot for an engine rebuild after 40,000 miles. The mechanic took so long to finish that I bought a Honda I admired to tide me over.

I liked the Honda well enough, but its convenience (electric start for goodness sake!) and reliability couldn't compete with the Bullet's character once they were both back in my garage.

I liked riding the Honda. I WANTED to ride the Bullet. I still have the Bullet. The Honda is gone.

This is going to cost me, I am sure, in time stranded by the side of the road, and eventual repair bills. I am resigned to that.

Going back in time with Motor Cycling

Motor Cycling was a classic British motor magazine.

 I took a walk back in time, recently, determining to read from cover to cover the Sept. 3, 1953 edition of Motor Cycling magazine. 

It was a different time. 

Motor Cycling was the first British motorcycle magazine, launching in 1902, but it tripped and had to be relaunched in 1909. 

By that time its longtime rival, The Motor Cycle magazine, had been in business for six years. 

Motor Cycling was more stable by 1953, with Graham Walker having been editor since 1938. A dispatch rider in World War I, he had an accomplished racing career. He had won the Ulster Grand Prix in 1928. 

Graham would leave the magazine in 1954, but by then Motor Cycling's green cover was well recognized as being "Read Wherever Motorcycles Are Ridden."

His "Editorial" in the issue that fell into my hands assured readers that quality, not the (falling) number of entrants, would assure the survival of the Manx Grand Prix.

As a weekly publication, Motor Cycling's inexpensive paper and lack of color photos are to be expected.

But the depth of technical writing and technical illustrations is remarkable. (No doubt much of this material was provided by motorcycle manufacturers, but it remains valuable, if presumably biased.)

My issue includes an extremely detailed and painstakingly drawn explanation of how to maintain a Model M23 BSA Empire Star.

(Hint: it's nearly identical to the wartime BSA M20 issued to the troops, so your military training during the war remains valid and spare parts abound.)

In general, Motor Cycling tended to feature racing reports, while The Motor Cycle offered more technical articles. Still, my edition of Motor Cycling analyzed the coming 1954 line of Watsonian sidecars, and spent a whole page examining "Lucas Plans for Next Year."

"Sports Gossip" was a column by Cyril Quantrill, who would go on to found Motorcycle News magazine two years later, and edit it during its formative years.

For the Motor Cycling edition I read, assistant editor R.R. Holliday went to the Isle of Man to report on practice preliminaries for the Manx Grand Prix, hanging Motor Cycling's headquarters banner on the Castle Mona hotel.

This was an important sporting event, and Motor Cycling not only provided a map of the grand prix route on the island, it offered advice on the best places from which to watch the action.

Imagine riding the race course on a 98cc moped!

It wasn't all serious, though. There's a page-long humor item by G.K.B., a woman who alleged to have ridden her 98cc Autocycle "Fanny" around the Manx circuit.

"There were no records broken and we were five laps short, but we did it," she wrote.

The true strength of Motor Cycling, in 1953, was its many and varied advertisements. Handsome ads touted brands like Ariel and major purchases like Firestone tires. 

Renold Mark 10 Chains advertised their competition victories.

Vincent invented a clip-on motor with a low center of gravity.

And the Vincent Firefly Cycle Motor showed off its remarkably low center of gravity, with the motor being attached actually below the bicycle's pedal crank. With 45cc of power, this clip-on motor for a bicycle was an odd creation for the same company that made the Vincent Black Shadow.

Royal Enfield was there, with E.S. Motors of Chiswick calling itself the 100% Royal Enfield Specialists:

"We are the largest ROYAL ENFIELD dealers and Spares Stockists in London," E.S. Motors claims, in an ad illustrated with a drawing of a 700c Royal Enfield twin.

Royal Enfield was featured in ads in 1953 magazine.

But the real meat of the magazine was advertisements for used motorcycles and for motorcycling accessories.

Not just parts, but apparel, including RAF goggles, U.S. pattern bomber jackets, and "Genuine D.R. Boots, not new, but in perfect condition." And all available by mail order.

It's in one of these ads that I learn that there is such a thing as a "Jeep Coat," fleece lined and in "Canadian officers' style." Dashing, and likely warm, too.

Perfect for riding your civilian BSA Empire Star.

Danger: AI writes some eBay listings

Artificial Intelligence thinks it knows what you want. 

 It will come as no surprise to you that Artificial Intelligence is being used to write some eBay listings. 

You probably even chuckle when you detect some of the laughable mistakes made by a non-human authors with no real familiarity with the items. 

A recent eBay ad offered an ancient Lucas regulator stripped off a junkyard motorcycle (maybe even a Royal Enfield). 

The ad copy almost glowed with pre-programmed confidence regarding this weathered part: 

"This Lucas Voltage Regulator RB108 6V is a reliable and high-quality part for your Royal Enfield Horex. It is designed to ensure your motorcycle's electrical system is running smoothly and efficiently. The silver color and vintage part aspect make it a great addition to your collection. The brand of this part is Lucas, a trusted name in the motorcycle industry. It is compatible with a variety of motorcycle and scooter parts and accessories, making it a versatile item for any rider. Buy with confidence knowing this voltage regulator will keep your bike running smoothly."

Imagine: Lucas, "a trusted name in the motorcycle industry." Would you buy this "with confidence"? 

You might buy it, but only on the chance it could work.

This highly rated eBay seller apparently uses AI to get his large collection of vintage parts posted. Of a 1956 Indian Tomahawk horn button, his ad says this:

"Elevate your motorcycle experience with this classic 1956 Indian Tomahawk Royal Enfield Horn Button. Crafted from a combination of durable steel and long-lasting plastic, this horn button is a perfect fit for your vintage motorcycle. The silver color adds a touch of elegance to your bike, while its placement on the front, left, and right side of your vehicle makes it easily accessible. This vintage part is a must-have for Royal Enfield enthusiasts who appreciate the historical significance of their motorcycles. With its unique design and reliable functionality, this horn button is an excellent addition to your collection. Don't miss out on the opportunity to own a piece of motorcycle history."

Long lasting plastic? A touch of elegance? Don't be silly.

AI thinks this worn part can add elegance to your Royal Enfield.

Another, obviously AI eBay ad, offers a vintage Royal Enfield metal toolbox. The robot alleges that the tool box can be fit on either side of the motorcycle (impossible: they are side specific), or -- even -- on the front!

Sure, it's funny. There's no reason not to buy, if you know what you're going to get, like the price, and like what you see in the photos (presuming they are real).

It reminds me of the badly translated instruction sheets, once very common, that came with items ordered from overseas. These were inscrutable and somewhat concerning if they, say, involved wiring electrical parts.

We can probably thank Google Translate for mostly doing away with goofy translations. It probably does at least as well as a human translator.

AI is different, because it is going to take the human entirely out of the equation.

AI has no hesitancy to inform you that Lucas made trusted electronics. It easily claims that your pride-and-joy motorcycle will be enhanced by the magnificent addition of junk-yard part.

In other words, it's unscrupulous. Soon it will be both unscrupulous and undetectable.

Probably many of the eBay ads I take for granted as the work of humans are in fact already the product of better scripted AI.

I have no way of knowing.

Is it such a bad thing? Humans make plenty of idiotic mistakes, too, and some of these can be seriously misleading, and even dangerous.

Well, consider this: In December, writer James Somers visited a Google lab where he played a game of ping-pong against a robot informed by AI. As he played, he could feel the robot adapting, to exploit his weaknesses.

It was spooky. But he found flaws in the robot's play, too. It didn't like topspin on the ball.

Later, Somers noted another ping-pong table in the lab -- except with a robot on each side, gradually erasing their flaws.

"I could see where this was going," he wrote.

The lab's goal, he learned, was to give the robots "superhuman performance."

We have been warned.