I have few "heroes" I mean people that you REALLY admire. Amongst the few would be Stirling Moss, I suppose because when I was a lad he was the epitome of a real racing driver. I once sat next to him on a flight from Singapore, and he turned out to be a real nice guy.
Chay Blyth, What a sailor that man was, tough as fuck, the way real Brit sporting heroes used to be.
Next would be Bert Munroe, this is the guy who the film "the worlds fastest indian" was based on. Bert was a New Zealander who didn’t understand the meaning of the word impossible. From the age of 63 he made numerous trips to The Bonniville salt flats with his ancient and well modified Indian motorcyle in the quest for speed at a time of life when most people would be spending the rest of their life in a rocking chair.He virtually hand built this bike over the years chasing greater speeds.
He manufactured his own barrels, flywheels, pistons, cams and followers and lubrication system. In their final form he in effect hand-carved his con-rods from a Caterpillar tractor axle, and hardened and tempered them to 143 tons tensile strength. He built a seventeen plate, thousand pound pressure clutch and used a triple chain drive. He experimented with streamlining and, in its final form, the bike was completely enclosed in a streamlined shell.
The bike that started as a 1915 indian scout of 600cc with a top speed of about 55 MPH, Bert took to over 200 MPH. He held speed records in NZ, Australia and the USA.
He made his own barrels, flywheels, pistons, cams and followers and lubrication system. In their final form he in effect hand-carved his con-rods from a Caterpillar tractor axle, and hardened and tempered them to 143 tons tensile strength. He built a seventeen plate, thousand pound pressure clutch and used a triple chain drive. He experimented with streamlining and, in its final form, the bike was completely enclosed in a streamlined shell.
He had had a iron will and was never daunted by names or fame, when I heard that Mae West was in the same hotel as he he wandered up to her room and knocked on the door expecting a welcome in and a shag. Didn’t get it tho’.
He also went to Washington to see Pres Eisenhower and was rather pissed off that he wasn’t allowed into the white house to see him. On his numerous trips to the USA he had a steady stream of offers from females ready and willing to jump his bones. It is believed he didn’t turn many down.
Bert was a true motorcyclist as evidenced by his reply when a freind admitted to him that he had never ridden a motorcycle.
Berts reply wäs "Golly, you might as well be dead then"