The 1910 TT: A Matchless triumph

HAVING WON THE FIRST (single-cylinder) TT in 1907 Charlie Collier did it again. Brother Harry, who had won in 1909, came second, both, of course, on 5hp Matchlesses. Third and fourth were W Creyton and J Adamson on 3½hp Triumphs with J Scriven fifth on his 4hp Rex. Then came three more Triumphs, ridden by 1908 single-cylinder TT winner Jack Marshall, HL Cooper and W Newsome, ahead of F Philips on a 5hp Scott and HV Colver on another Matchless. The highest placed Indian was ridden to 14th place by J Alexander—the Indian campaign had been scuppered by some duff inner tubes. There were 29 finishers; 36 riders dropped out, oftren after brave attempts to continue after crashes or mechanical disasters. The final three to drop out, during the last lap, were Freddy Barnes on the Zenith Gradua with punctures and valve trouble; FW Dayell (5hp Bat) when his rear cylinder blew off; and spare a thought for JF Sirett, whose NSU was running fine when he misunderstood a marshall’s signal and stopped too soon.  That’s the 1910 TT in a nutshell; there was, of course,  much more to it. Settle down and immerse yourself in the atmosphere of that hot June day in Manxland so many years ago, courtesy of the Blue ‘Un.

ON TUESDAY EVENING last week a meeting was held at the Sefton Hotel, at which Mr JR Nisbet, who, as clerk of the course, was practically in supreme command, addressed the assembly. He called the men’s attention to the fact that the brakes and silencers would be tested at St. John’s at 10.30 on Wednesday, and that on their prompt attendance then and on the day of the race depended the good name of the ACU and the success of the race. On the Wednesday armlets for the men and attendants would be given out. He pointed out how the men would be allowed one attendant each, and that this rule would be strictly enforced…
Mr Nisbet pointed out the seriousness of the competition, that it was a serious trade event, and in the course there were several obviously dangerous points, at which he urged the competitors to keep cool and collected, and remember they were sportsmen and give and take with one another. There should be no passing at corners or within reasonable distance of such dangerous places as Ballacraine…there would be on the course about twenty police (all first-aid men), doctors at the most dangerous places, marshals and boy scouts; there would be two depots, at either of which a man could station his attendant—that at St John’s would be obvious, but the Kirk Michael depot would be marked by a green banner…

Eight Triumphs started the TT and eight Triumphs finished. Left to right: H Lister Cooper, WF Newsome, WG McMinnies, JW Adamson, Howard Smith, W Creyton, J Marshall and CE Murphy.

At 10.30 on Wednesday morning the competitors had their last ordeals to go through—the silencer and brake tests…The silencers were deemed satisfactory, but pre-eminently above the others the Scotts and Indians distinguished themselves as regards absence of noise…In the brake test the judges stood halfway down the short steep hill, and at the waving of a flag each man had to apply his brakes. Here again the judges passed all as being satisfactory…
Brilliant weather again smiled on Mona’s Isle, its sporting inhabitants, and on the competitors and numerous spectators who had come to see the great event. After an early breakfast we left Douglas with the sun shining brightly in a cloudless sky, an ideal morning for the great road race. St John’s looked its best, and as we arrived the chief officials were busy putting the finishing touches to the organisation. Down the direct road to Glen Helen the men were arranged on each side against pegs bearing their correct numbers…These were grouped according to the different makes, and when the task was quickly over, petrol, oil, and other supplies were smartly laid out by the attendants behind the groups of numbers. The notice board with Mr J Baines in command was, as may be supposed, double as large as last year…

Fans, and indeed competitors, heading for the TT were distinctly unimpressed by the need to carry bikes up and down steps: “Three and sometimes four labourers had to be chartered.”

Near the start there lives a farmer who appears to be one of those people who like to assert their rights, and to prove that he was entitled to use the roads as long as they were open he chose to drive his cart on the highways during practice, though the other islanders, true sportsmen that they are, desisted. Just at the moment when all the competitors were at their posts and the spectators were looking at them with interest, the farmer, just to show he had a right to be on the road, drove down the line, and naturally met with some opposition, which he in turn resented. Shouts of derision arose, and when he tried to use his whip on those objecting to his presence and it was taken away from him, the welkin rang with cheers. The genial Manx police came forward and gently remonstrated, but all to no purpose. Deprived of his whip, the farmer used his reins on a too obtrusive spectator, which at once settled the matter: The pony was immediately removed from the shafts and the cart shoved on the green, while the unsportsmanlike owner was left with the animal using language which was far more forcible than polite. Yells and howls of derision followed, mixed with reports from a toy pistol, which set the animal plunging, and smashed Bentley’s front number plate. Fortunately Mr, Salmon made a suggestion to Mr Straight, who came forward and laying a kindly hand on the farmer’s shoulder said, “You seem to be a strong man, come and help us to keep order.” And, putting a ‘committee’ badge on the old fellow’s arm, won him over at once, thus putting an end to all bad feeling and quickly turning an enemy into a firm friend.
A telephone had been installed between St John’s and Ballacraine, and the instrument at the start stood on a platform on which Mr Nisbet could keep in touch with the marshals under him in both places. We carefully examined Ballacraine Corner on our way out, and noted how vastly it had been improved, as at the very point where dry skidding might take place the tarmac had been laid down…the dust was certainly bad in places, but the road in the neighbourhood of the start had been watered…At 10.12 the first pair of competitors began to move out under the direction of the marshals, and as HA Collier came in sight of the huge crowd just disgorged by the last train, cheers rent the air…

Silencer and brake tests were staged on a steep gradient near St John’s the day before the race.

The TT
AT 10.15 HA COLLIER (5hp Matchless) and CE Bennett (5hp Indian) started together, the Indian fired first but Collier was soon under way…Myers (5hp Scott) and WH Bashall (5hp Bat) were the next pair. Thanks to his free engine and two-speed gear Myers was away well before the other machine had begun to fire…In all seventy-three started out of eighty-three. The number thirteen was not allotted. All of the crowd waited in silent expectation. The start had been most successfully carried out, and it only remained to spot the leader of the procession…
The first round was full of incidents. JT Bashall retired with a broken pulley near the Devil’s Elbow. A message was delivered by a boy scout that a doctor was wanted at Glen Helen. This, it is presumed, was for Bennett, who fell at the foot of Creg Willey’s Hill, suffered several flesh wounds, and had to withdraw. Butler retired near Peel. Yates was put out of the running with engine trouble between Kirk Michael and the Devil’s Elbow. Rea was stopped by a broken pulley. Pimm stopped with a flat front tyre at the St John’s depot and Lee Evans did likewise. Martin had trouble with both brakes and fell at Creg Willey’s Hill, and later had to retire through valve trouble. S Wright fell out with a broken crankshaft. Bentley’s back tyre burst while travelling at high speed coming down from Creg Willey, but fortunately without falling off. Godfrey retired through a broken piston. Scale broke his pulley near Ballig Bridge, and Barnes and Weatherilt nearly collided near St. Germans…

J Baxter (5hp Rex) and SC Perryman (5hp Blumfeld) cornering on Snaefell.

In the second lap Franklin retired with inner tube trouble. Owing to a bad batch these tubes caused the downfall of the Indian competitors in the race. Noel Drury’s engine seized in Glen Helen, probably through ball-bearing trouble. Pollard, the Quadrant rider, lost the cover of his magneto contact breaker, with the result that the latter would not fully go into position. Norton broke an inlet valve rocker; and Stevens was another who had to withdraw. As HA Collier passed on his second round he was heartily cheered, and hearing or perceiving the acclamation he waved his hand in response. WH Washall wobbled alarmingly as he entered the St John’s straight, and as he came into sight his goggles were seen to have fallen over his face…In the third lap Bowen made the fastest lap of the day—17min 51sec, equal to 53.11mph—but he charged the wall at Ballacraine Corner and later retired with a broken frame on Greg Willey’s Hill. In this round Witham stopped at St. Inlin’s and Reed, who had broken his exhaust valve lifter, had to use his switch to slow down at the corners. On failing to restart on one occasion his belt jammed, broke his pulley and caused his withdrawal…In the fourth lap there was plenty of excitement. WH Bashall stopped at the depot at St. John’s to fill up with petrol, and owing to the absurd regulation that competitors had to fill up their own tanks his hand shook, and the petrol was spilt over the hot engine. Instantly machine and rider were a mass of flames. For a few moments matters looked most serious until Bashall was wrapped in coats, and save for a few burns was unhurt. The blazing machine lay on the ground, and the burning coat was in the road. People rushed forward, but fortunately the marshals kept the course clear—only just in time, as Marshall dashed through the flames on his fourth round…

JT Bashall and HH Bowen push their Bat-JAPs away—Bowen led for three laps.

The bad luck of Bowen and Bashall, the two unfortunate Bat riders, effaces them from future lists; hard indeed, considering their high positions. Bowen’s ultimate withdrawal was in the fourth lap. Collier kept his second place, while Marshall and Oberländer had worked their way up. At the end of the fifth lap Crundall fell near Kirk Michael, broke his petrol union, set his carburetter on fire, spoilt the float, turned his broken petrol pipe into the float chamber, and tried to continue, but all to no avail. Wood (NSU) fell at St John’s and withdrew. Jones, who was always in the first three, retired through engine trouble…

HH Bowen (5hp Bat-JAP) was leading until he crashed at Ballacraine. He remounted and rode on until his frame snapped.

About twenty-five minutes past one, CR Collier romped in a winner, with his brother second, and Creyton (the first single-cylinder rider) third. It was seen from the last five laps that his win was practically certain, and as the time of the finish approached Mr Schulte, the sportsmanlike director of the Triumph Co, got ready a bottle of champagne and two glasses for the two brothers Collier. The result of the race was most popular, and the position in which Creyton finished highly pleased the islanders. Creyton is a Manxman, who was formerly ostler in an hotel, and being bitten by the motor fever he took to motor cycling, with what result may be clearly seen. Collier’s average speed was 50.7mph against 49.0mph by his brother last year. CR Collier’s fastest lap was 18min 17sec as against 18min 9sec by his brother in last year’s race. The riding of the Matchless team was quite remarkable. Finishing first, second, and tenth, they rode consistently throughout. CR and HA Collier were said to be the most cautious at all the dangerous places, and yet their machines were reliable enough and fast enough to win…
Only in one respect was there a complaint, and that was against the working of the scoring board. Mr Baines did his best but his task was far beyond the powers of one man, so great was the size of the board…At the meeting of competitors, it will be remembered, Mr Nisbet urged those taking part in the race to show consideration to their rivals, and not pass at the corners and dangerous bends. So well was this sportsmanlike idea carried out that many of the marshals who were to make reports of what happened, especially as regards examples of unsportsmanlike behaviour, had no comments to make. In motor cycling, at any rate, are the sporting traditions of Britons brilliantly upheld…At the conclusion of the race the first twelve machines were pushed into the enclosure (the crowd cheering as each went by), and were there examined by the judges, who verified
the measurements, and found these, we are glad to say, correct…

The Blue ‘Un’s artist captured the moment as CE Bennett (Indian) and Harry Collier (Matchless) start the 1910 TT.

Impressions at Ballacraine and Ballig Bridge.
THE FIRST MAN to fly by, taking the corner in magnificent style, was Bennett on an Indian, who, starting level with HA Collier, had managed to snatch thus early a lead of between two and three hundred yards. Generally speaking, the order over the bridge was the same as at starting until CR Collier pulled up just before the bridge and spent several precious moments in making some adjustment, apparently to his carburetter. Three hundred yards further on he had stopped again. The first incident to send the spectators’ hearts into their mouths came when Bentley, on an Indian, leapt over the switchback bridge and twisted his front wheel in mid-air. His subsequent course for the next fifty yards was meteoric and startling, as his track was not unlike the section of a corkscrew along its major axis. Scarcely had the spectators got their breath back when Newsome, on a Triumph, taking the turn a shade too wide, had some little difficulty in preventing his machine unceremoniously entering a cottage by the front door.
Three or four minutes later Alexander and Applebee, both on twin Rexes and hard on each other’s heels, did much the same thing, and only saved themselves by superlative skill. It was noticeable that neither of them switched off, but wrenched themselves back on to the course and disappeared round the corner towards Glen Helen as if they had only been carrying out their usual itinerary…Moorhouse spent a long time at the bridge, a victim of the tyre trouble which dogged all his confreres. The manner in which Philipp and Myers on their Scotts negotiated the bridge was an eye-opener to everyone, for whereas if all the machines did not actually come over with both wheels off the ground, all but the Scotts had at least the front wheel in the air. Quite the fastest over the bridge in the second lap was Jones, on a twin Premier, who in one lap had passed no fewer than thirty-two competitors, and was going in magni- ficent style…
Bowen brought off quite the most hair-raising waltz that this year’s race and practice have yet brought forth. This was particularly unfortunate, as he had been doing some most remarkable times, and was undoubtedly prime favourite for the race if one may judge from the amount of money which was placed upon his chance. Ten minutes before he came to grief an amateur bookie did brisk business with an offer of ‘fours’ against Bowen, business which proved highly profitable, with remarkably quick returns. Lust for speed and the consciousness that he was rapidly overhauling everybody else evidently proved too much for the famous Bat rider, for he rode at the corner at a pace which was much too high. The moment he realised his mistake he switched off and crammed on his brakes. By this time he was already close against the wall, so that he was forced to make a sharp turn, with the result that he cut a complicated figure involving at least one and a half complete turns and fell backwards into the wall with the machine on the top of him. A great burst of cheering arose when Bowen pluckily got up, picked his machine up, and started punching and thumping the handle-bars back into position. In less than a couple of minutes he was off again going apparently as well as ever, but alas, fated to come to grief with a broken, frame a short distance further on…

F Philipp with the 5hp Scott that took him to ninth place.

Observations at Kirk Michael Replenishment Depot.
OSCAR HEDSTROM and Wells soon had cause to look glum at the disappearance of some of their cracks, and ere long Bentley walked disconsolately in with a mangled sample of the special American inner tubes, which were responsible for the Indian debacle. These tubes had been over vulcanised at the lapped joint, and ripped like blotting-paper in patches. Bentley’s tube had split for ten inches when he was possibly toucliirg 70mph in the swoop down from Creg Willey summit, and he had the most strenuous half minute of his life in fighting the machine as it bucketed to and fro across the road…Lee Evans hunted Collier round the V only a yard astern, and Jack Marshall was hanging on to them like a terrier. The shuffling of positions corresponded in the main with those at other points of observation, and the special interest here lay rather in many duels for precedence round the bend, and in the varying dexterity with which the riders replenished their tanks at the depot…
On the first lap Franklin pulled up and changed the tube in his back wheel, thus losing a lap. When restarting he jammed his coaster hub at the V. WH Bashall was second man round in the second lap, having done a very fast time, while Jones on the twin Premier was also travelling superbly. On the third round 58 and 69 both came up too fast in close company, and had to shoot down the safety road. Creyton and Newsome were not a machine’s length apart, having raced 38 miles side by side.
On the fourth lap HA Collier stopped to fill with petrol, and was off again in 27sec, His tank had a huge Davison filler, and his attendant slapped in spirit in record time from an ordinary two-gallon can, which had been provided with an air vent in the bottom by the simple process of banging a cold chisel through it. Bowen shot ahead just as Collier was starting away again, Marshall tore down the hill, just leading Clarke’s Indian, which shot ahead as Jack stopped for petrol. The small screwed filler caps on the Triumph tanks wasted a lot of time by comparison with the Davison bungs. The Indians similarly wasted time in filling their oil tanks, but Wells had a good thing in half a dozen huge squirts. These were kept ready filled with lubricant from a bucket, a cork stopping up the nozzle. One and a half squirts would fill the tanks in five or six seconds… Creyton nearly sacrificed his chances after refilling in this lap. He was just starting off when his machine burst into flames, and he paused in dismay, but with a roar of ” Get on!” from the attendants he leapt into the saddle, and the wind extinguished the flames within fifty yards. Franklin came down the hill at a truly frightful speed in this lap, but Sproston, whose luck is usually bad, had to stop for tyres and petrol…By the sixth lap a twin-cylinder victory seemed a moral certainty, and now occurred the sensation of the day, six riders descending from the heights above so close together that a large blanket would have covered them. Luckily, four of them funked rounding the V in such close company, and they tailed out into a string ere the dangerous angle was attained…On the seventh round, Oberländer, who had raced with temarkable consistency, parted with his chance. His belt pulled through and damaged the clip of his stand just as he applied his brakes tor the V. In his anxiety he made an error of judgment and tried to remove the stand instead of strapping it up. He broke the crossbar and it took him a long while to secure the legs separately. By the time he had further fitted his spare belt he had lost about a lap, and went on very disconsolately, reappearing two or three laps later in hopeless trouble with his exhaust valve. The poor fellow sat on a bench in the garden at the depot, the picture of disappointment. Mackay presently walked his machine down the hill, the joint of his second butt-ender having collapsed after repeated repairs. He reported a very narrow escape. He was chasing Bowen down Creg Willey at a furious speed when the latter’s frame broke. The Bat went one way, its rider the other, and Mackay shaved in between them by an inch or two.
On the eighth lap Scriven made a very clever restart after a petrol stop. He had previously broken his valve lifter, but managed to push off his racer while half lying across the top tube to hold up a tappet on the far side. Considering that this must have hampered him, his position in the race was excellent…

1910 TT WOOD
FC Wood gets his NSU airborne over Ballig Bridge. Wood’s bike is clear of the bridge and Wood is clear of the bike.

The Race as seen from Knocksharry.
THE DUST WAS appalling; several times bunches of competitors were tearing along in a cloud, and so thick was the dust that at times it was difficult to discern the numbers. How the hindermost were able to steer at such tremendous speeds is a puzzler. It was clear that Bowen and Bashall were the fastest over the stretch of road near Knocksbarry. The Colliers appeared to be taking matters easily the first round or two. It was a fine sight as over sixty competitors filed past at speeds varying from 50 to 70mph. Sometimes there would be a gap then a constant stream, the hinder men fighting their hardest to gain the lead to avoid the dust… Then a competitor was observed pushing his machine by the roadside. It proved to be JT Bashall, who was very disconsolate, for he said his Bat was running as well as it had ever done when the outer pulley flange broke in pieces—the result of drilling too many holes on the belt line. The next incident was an exciting duel between F Philipp and J Lang. It was a very even race, and both were lost to view still side by side. The two-stroke Scott machines excited the keenest admiration, the beautifully healthy purr of the engines being a pleasant change from the crisp bark of the majority of the other machines… JL Norton was another of the unfortunates, for an inlet valve rocker broke, delaying him some time. He contrived to make his engine run up to 30mph by fitting a weak spring to the inlet valve so that it would work automatically; as he could effect no further improvement in speed he gave up…A favourite with the Manxmen who were dotted here and there around the course was DM Brown, a Douglas rider of a Humber. As he appeared lap after lap with clocklike regularity he was cheered again and again… [Sadly the race lacked a competitor from the Humber on a Douglas].

Post TT
Interview with the Winner.

No one, including Charlie Collier, was surprised when he won another TT. He called it “an easy affair”.

AFTER HAVING TEA at Peel and hearing Martin, Dayrell, Evans, and Bentley fight their battles over again, we set out for Douglas, and at St John’s were lucky enough to meet CR Collier walking back from the post office. Here was an opportunity not to be missed. Beckoning to the happy victor, whose face was wreathed in smiles of recognition and happiness, and who looked wonderfully fresh and fit after his splendid ride, we warmly congratulated him, and asked, him for his views of the race.
“A very easy affair,” he replied. “I had no trouble, and my machine carried me through in excellent form.”
“Did you find the dust very trying?” we ventured, knowing that dust was one of the enemies the competitors feared most. “No,” he answered, “it worried me very little, as I saw very few competitors.”
This is quite extraordinary, but it is nevertheless a fact that the leaders in these races see very few of the other men, despite the number on the course. We feared at first that the mist would hamper the men on the higher ground; but this Collier assured us was not the case.
“It has been an ideal day,” he said. “Everything was in our favour, but the race has been harder each year.”
We asked Collier how he liked his new short-stroke engine: “It runs a good deal faster, but does not give quite the same power. Still, it has enough, as you can see, but as it has a high compression it knocked somewhat on the hills, but all the others did, didn’t they?”
Not wishing to keep our victim longer from his well-earned rest, we renewed our congratulations, and wished him equal success next year. Thus ended a glorious day in the annals of motor cycling.

OF THE FOUR Tourist Trophy Races which have been held, CR Collier won the first and fourth, whilst his brother won the third, and in 1908, when Marshall won, CR Collier was second. The 1910 race will always be remembered for the fine weather which prevailed before and during the time when it was held. All will admit it was a glorious success, and the finest motor cycling road race which has ever been held. The public are inclined to look upon racing as useless, but it must be remembered that the TT is a reliability trial, inasmuch as the competing machines are within a very little of being perfect touring mounts. Now, while motor bicycles will run through a trial at a legal limit average for 1,000 miles, and seventy or eighty per cent, will finish, this is not the case if the machines are hurried, and occasionally motor cyclists do drive at over twenty miles per hour. Consequently the TT is of inestimable value, and by its means margins of safety which tend to make the modern machine more reliable are discovered. The necessity of these races is shown by the fact that out of seventy-two starters only twenty-nine completed the course, and though numerous failures are due to accidents…mechanical troubles are more prevalent than they should be. Again, the Marrxmen and all other good sportsmen are keen to see another race in the island, which we trust will receive the support it deserves.

Presentation of the Trophy,
THE PRESENTATION of the trophy was made at the Douglas Palace on Thursday evening in the presence of a huge crowd by Mr CTW Hughes Games, Chairman of the Manx Highway Board, who congratulated the ACU on the organisation of the race.
Mr CR Collier, in replying, acknowledged the courtesy and hospitality shown to the motor cyclists by the inhabitants of the island.
A special gold medal was presented by Mr Cowell, of Douglas, to Mr DM Brown (Humber), who is a Manx resident, and completed the course. By the way, Creyton, who rode the first single-cylinder, hails from Ramsey.
Mr JR Nisbet announced that the motor cyclists visiting the island had contributed £50 to the Noble Hospital, Douglas, where poor Woodman is still lying [AlanWoodman was the first New Zealander to ride in the TT. He had arrived on The Island via Brooklands where he took a second and third on his V-Twin Indian. While practising on the 15-mile St Johns Course with its mostly gravel surface he crashed, breaking his leg, which later had to be amputated, but he was back the next year.
Most of the competitors and officials in the race returned home by the King Orry on Saturday morning. A further collection in aid of the hospital realised £5 11s 9d, £4 7s of this amount being collected by Mrs WG Aston, and £1 4s 9d by a jovial party of singers.
From The Bicycling World of America, in the issue preceding the TT: “In fear of the further success of the American machine, which has made them sit up and take so much notice, it is understood that several of the British manufacturers have discarded belts and adapted their machines to chain transmission for the occasion.” The first eight machines to finish were belt driven.

“Machines stacked on the foredeck of the Kinj Orry on the return journey from Douglas last Saturday morning. There were 85 motor cycles on the boat.”

IXION WROTE: Quite the best achievement in the annals of the TT Race was registered by the Triumph machine, which got all its starters through, including five private owners, and obtained the third, fourth, sixth, seventh, eighth, eleventh, thirteenth, and fifteenth places. This spells magnificent construction, thorough practical foresight, and fine riding. Creyton, Marshall, and Newsome, we all know (condolences to Marshall, by the way, on his tyre troubles; next year his luck may be in again). The amateurs are indeed a team of cracks. Adamson hails from Perth, and can take comers better than any rider I have seen. Cooper was one of the first Triumph enthusiasts, and has as much experience as anyone. Murphy trains in Ireland, and after the bumps of the Green Isle regards the Manx course as a billiard table. Howard Smith will be a lot faster next year, and McMinnies is acquainted with speed of old, and probably rode more cautiously because he was out to report the race from a competitor’s standpoint.

From the same source, a blow-by-blow account of a TT lap in 1910…
NOBODY WHO HAS yet to visit the Isle of Man can conceive how exacting is the task which faces the racing man who would win a TT Race. Nobody who has not ‘blinded’ round it in the early morning when the roads are free can understand what address and dash are required to register even a twenty-minute lap, though this year Charlie Collier’s slowest lap was reeled off in 19.34 minutes.
Ask Hedstrom, the veteran designer of the Red Indians, what he thinks of the course. In case you don’t know him, I will try to paint its difficulties. St John’s, the official starting point, is a hamlet on a broad road, less than a mile from the south-east corner of the triangle, and a broad, straight, pot-holey highway conducts you to the ill-famed right-angle of Ballacraine. Here a large, square, white-walled public house shrouds the corner from you. You cannot estimate its severity; you cannot see whether Bowen or some other daring rider is recumbent in mid-track behind the wall with his machine pummelling him. You jam on your brakes, lift your valve and twist round. Can you ever do it? The kindly wooden banking seems too far round the bend to help you—straight ahead is a cruel, gnarled wall, the bloodstains scarce washed off. By an effort you twist your front wheel, and with a bump you are up the banking a couple of feet. Lying well over, you swirl off it and, hey presto! you find the decptive road is strongly on the rise and your engine knocks–it was here the Colliers’ automatic AMAC carburetters came in very handy. You jab your air lever back a notch or so, and with clanking piston gather pace up the ascent.

Privateer Jack Scriven (4hp twin Rex) was placed fifth in illustrious company, having anaged to push start his racer while half lying across the top tube to hold up a tappet.

Just as you rejoice to hear your exhausts merge again in indistinguishable roar, Ballig Bridge leaps up under you—loathly little hump set on the skew—it hurls you five yards forward and across the road, over paving stones set at the cottage doors, and now, as your jumping heart slows down a few rpm, you face a particularly nasty patch of going; The road is narrow, hemmed in with ruthless walls, and has lost all sense of rectitude. It is an elongated spiral. Arm Hackenschmidt and Sandow each with a huge pair of gas pliers and let them pull out a giant exhaust valve spring till it has something of straightness—such is the road to Glen Helen. There are no genuine corners, but you are shaving stonewalled curves all the time. One or two wheel tracks in the race go within four inches of the low walls; were you squatted there to watch with dangling heels you would spill Collier and Jack Marshall and two or three more.
So to Glen Helen, where the capricious road gives a sharp breathless twist to the left, then right again, then back left, then with the last and sharpest wrench to the right. Close on your back wheel thunder five or six more projectiles, breathing flame—take an inch more room than you can claim and they will smash into you. Then the grades straightens up, and a lower geared machine nips past you at 45: over the undulating plateau you bound, losing yards on him at every explosion, till the mad swoop down to Kirk Michael drops away beneath you twenty-five feet wide, fenced by high hedges, curling down in long gentle wreaths. 50—you are pulling back the man who passed you on the hill–60–you have him–70–you leave him standing, but with a rush and a thunderous roar Charlie Collier’s front wheel is up with you.
Aha! the bottom-two tiny rises, which betoken that Kirk Michael is near you; you signal “Next lap” you will stop for petrol; Collier, with consummate nerve, delays slowing till the bend is almost under his wheel, and leaves you for ever; you slide cautiously round with several others in a crackling, spluttering string, as cramped wrists refuse wholly to lift the valve against its 40lb spring. Steady here—this was where poor Alan Woodman met his terrible fall—then six miles of broad hedgerows going, up and down in little undulating dips, with only one corner, and that the terrible Devil’s Elbow, too dangerous to be dangerous at all, until after another three miles of winding road The Very Nastiest Piece of the Whole Course is reached, the wicked one, two, three corners in the streets of Peel–a regular beast one of them; across a street into another street a trifle out of register with the first; though the gutters are filled with hard stamped metal, the slightest error means mounting the kerb, with a sickening jolt and long odds on a skid over the flags. Then a lovely mile—broad, dead straight, and not too bumpy—till you pass under the railway bridge and strike two bunkers you would never have called bunkers till you tried to snatch seconds through them—the first another skew bridge with stiff stone parapets, the second a corner, heaven save the mark, up into St John’s. Why, the road looked straight here last night, so long and gentle is the bend, but as you tear up on full throttle you scrape the bank on the extreme right, and should you fall that roar behind you means you will be knocked into mincemeat before you realise you are over.
This is no sport for cowards or fools, gentlemen!

The Manx Hillclimb
The hillclimb that ended TT week ran just over five miles from Ramsey up Snaefell to a point halt a mile on the Ramsey side of the Bungalow Hotel. There were 83 entries, divided into eight classes. most of the competitors travelled very cautiously at the Hairpin. Here are some highlights from the contemporary report…

“The hairpin bend near the commencement of the hill-climb from Ramsey to the Bungalow at the summit of Snaefeil. FW Chase (3½hp Centaur) is seen rounding the curve.”

THE ACU OFFICIALS got the competitors away very smartly, and interest never flagged. There were a number of failures—JL Norton (Norton) failed to negotiate the severe bend, and in trying to remount missed his footrest and fell over the machine. He again pluckily started, and completed the climb at a rattling pace. Godfrey (Rex) suffered a bad fall after completing the most severe part of the climb, Fenn (Indian) failed owing to an error of judgment, Marshall (Triumph) was again dogged by ill luck, for this time his front tyre burst, and Bowen (Bat-JAP) was too anxious to travel at full speed before he had accounted for the bends…

Freddy Barnes (3½hp Zenith-Gradua) “who derived much benefit from the use of his variable gear”.

Barnes smartly lowered his gear on the corner, and, picking up well, got away in grand style. Norton tickled his carburetter as he wrenched his machine round, and the longstroke engine ate up the gradient in response. Slaughter handled his machine better than any of his predecessors. The Triumph trio were magnificent, Jack Marshall being a shade the neatest and fastest. Turvey showed great respect for the bend, Chase was neat but slow, and the remainder mostly set their hot engines knocking…
Fenn, as usual, provided the chief sensation. He tore up to the corner at a perfectly crazy speed, though he stopped his engine lower down than anybody else. In the centre of the bend he performed a gigantic skid, rolling over and over in a cloud of dust. Picking himself up, he made a most plucky effort to restart, but the heavy machine was too much for him, and he fell gasping into the gorse at the roadside. Franklin picked up more smoothly than the other Indians, but the twins, on the whole, showed no superiority over the singles in this respect, probably owing to their gear ratios being high in view of the speed stretches higher up…

WF Newsome (3½hp Triumph) surprised everyone, excepy possibly himself, by making fastest time in the Snaefell hill climb, beating all the multis.

Jack Slaughter rode his 482cc Ariel to 17th place in the TT, “Slaughter handled his machine better than any of his predecessors” in the hillclimb.