Four of us young lads received a severe tongue lashing from our local bobby - Sgt Jim Nolan, to the effect that he had received complaints regarding motorcycles leaving the village around midnight making a lot of unnecessary noise, and further more he required of us that we prove our BSA could be ridden in such a manner as to make no more noise than his Francis Barnet when exiting the village - we managed to do just that, so yes they can be ridden sedately.
A nice bloke Jim was, liked bikes and their young riders, kept the law in our village without many folk finding themselves in court, just a few timely words and a stern look.
Only once saw him lose the stern look, when asking a young lad just left school what he was doing in the pub with a pint of beer in his hand,
How old are you Lad? (a question he new the answer to as he new the lad well) 15 Mr Nolan said the lad
and where do you live (also something he new well as the lad lived two doors down from him) in Lowick Mr Nolan
and what do you call your farther lad (again he new damn well ) " Dad" said the lad
Exit Sgt Nolan with black gloved hand covering a grinning moustached mouth
