Cafe Racer the motorcycle is well-written and researched. Along with its bounty of photographs, it's a great addition to any coffee table.
Britain had just gotten out of the war. Times were trying. People worked hard all day to scrimp up just enough to survive. Cars were beyond most people’s means, and there were a bunch of vets and civil servants that needed cheap transportation. Motorcycles were a viable alternative, but were more utilitarian than recreational.
But all that soon changed. Companies like BSA started producing slick little Singles with svelte lines and beautiful chrome and alloy bodywork. Riders started experimenting with jetting and gearing, aiming to squeeze out every last drop of horsepower they could. The 100mph mark became de rigueur. Motorcyclists worked hard all day and met at cafés at night to swap riding stories and to make late night rides between favorite haunts. They dumped every cent of extra income into their bikes. This new breed of riders began to be distinguished by their ornately decorated black leather jackets and boots. The press began running dramatized accounts of late night marauders that terrorized English back roads, and a cultural phenomenon grew into what we call the rocker movement.
To relive the glory days of the rockers and to learn about an era that has seen resurgence in popularity as of late, I recommend reading Mike Seate’s
Café Racer the motorcycle. Seate’s light-hearted introduction to the realm of café racers lets the reader know it’s alright if you don’t know a Triton from a Triumph. Neither did he at one point. But as you read along and learn the roots of the movement, as you travel back in time through the wonderful collection of photographs, you’re ready to slick down your hair with Brylcreem, throw on a Thunderbolt jacket with a 59 Club patch, pull on some Hi-Flite sheepskin-lined boots and make a bee-line for the Ace Café.
The book introduces the movers and shakers that made the movement possible. He lists the manufacturers and tuning houses that embraced and supported the café racer movement. You’ll learn about the heralded featherbed frame and become well-versed on the Matchless G50 and the Velocette Venom. After reading it you’ll be checking NetFlix for a copy of
The Leatherboys. You’ll want to do the ‘ton’ on your favorite country back road, and figures like Father Bill Shergold will now be in your lexicon.
The book is almost worth its $40 asking price for the pictures alone. The abundance of great photos serves both to feed a reader’s sense of nostalgia and provides ideas for motorcyclists who are thinking about restoring their own café racer. The pictures make it a great coffee table conversation starter.
The book's release is well-timed. There’s been increased interest in the genre again. People are looking for a bike to work on themselves. But take heed of this quote from page 69, weekend garage warriors, “…owning a café racer requires mechanical skill that was a prerequisite to motorcycling a long time ago.” There’s an art to mating a Triumph engine with a featherbed frame, and maintaining some of those old Singles requires maintenance after or even during every ride. If you’re not interested in becoming a better motorcycle mechanic, then resist the impulse to buy that Manx Norton you saw listed on eBay.
I took the book over to a friend’s house. He’s an old rogue desert and street racer that used to terrorize So Cal back in the day. His eyes brightened and a wry smile spread across his face as he flipped through the pages, memories storming through his head. He could name every bike without looking at the captions. He recounted stories about the different bikes he had ridden that he saw in the book and told stories of unsanctioned races in Death Valley for the next two hours. His reaction was priceless.
One suggestion I offer as an editor. The story of the 59 Club and what ‘ton-up’ means is so important to the storyline that I wouldn’t wait until page 57 to divulge the history of Father Bill Shergold’s 59 Club or wait until page 50 to define what ‘ton-up’ means. Photos early in the book are rife with 59 club patches, but unless you already know a little about the era, you don’t know what it refers to but you realize it’s important.
The book could have used a little closer editing. If you’re investing $40 for a hard bound, coffee table-style book, then you don’t want to see the first chapter start with an oversight that should have been caught in the editing process. My final gripe is the grey font that the captions are written in is a little too light and is difficult to see clearly in bright light.
Café Racer the motorcycle is informative and a good read. Seate writes with insight and enthusiasm for the movement. It helps keep the tone of the writing upbeat and interesting as it delves into the social and economical circumstances surrounding Britain at the time that helped spawn the rockers and mods. I went from somebody who didn’t know what the 59 Club or who Father Shergold was and came away ready to start scanning Craigslist for a CB350 to restore. Read it and I'll wager you'll get the café racer bug, too.
