If you’ve read ‘The White Hand’ article you will understand my passion for all things cars and motorcycles is rooted in some of my Dad’s motoring life experiences. One of our biggest passions is that for a particular model of British motorcycle, namely the BSA DBD34 Gold Star. The story of this legendary motorcycle is a fascinating one that holds a very special place in my family history.
The Birmingham Small Arms Company Ltd (BSA) was an armaments and engineering firm that was formed at Small Heath, Birmingham UK, in 1861. Initially formed by a number of local specialist gunsmiths, the company was established to embrace the mass-production of arms via mechanisation, lured by the Britain’s War Office with the prospect of huge Government contracts. Said contracts, however, would initially prove slow, sporadic and unreliable, prompting the ambitious company to quickly diversify and expand into a vast array of engineering products that could be manufactured on an industrial scale. Products including armaments, ammunition, sporting guns, cannons, anti-tank guns, tools, bicycles, motorcycles and cars (namely Daimler and Lanchester) were churned out in an ever-changing portfolio of company acquisitions and mergers. Two World Wars inevitably had massive impact upon the productivity of BSA and despite the Luftwaffe bombing the Small Heath works in 1940, the company had continued to expand peaking at an eventual 67 factories. Notable BSA military products that you may have heard of are; the Lee-Enfield Rifle, The Lewis Machine Gun, The Sten Sub-Machine Gun, the Browning 303 Machine Gun, the Daimler Scout Armoured Car and so on.
The BSA Cycle Company Limited was a division of BSA that had been formed in 1910 in part due to the success of their mass bicycle production that had begun in the 1880’s, but soon evolved to incorporate motorcycle manufacture too ….it’s 3.5hp model debuting at London’s Olympia Motor-Show in November of that year. Despite subsequent acquisition of rival motorcycle manufacturers Sunbeam (1943), Ariel (1944), New Hudson (1950) and Triumph (1951), the BSA brand alone continued to experience massive growth prompting the 1953 creation of the name-specific company ‘BSA Motorcycles Limited’ which soon became the largest motorcycle manufacturer in the world, representing 25% of the global motorcycle market. These 1950’s sales figures highlight the huge popularity of BSA’s fashionable designs and their highly respected pre-unit-construction engines that were re-known for their reliable and versatile characteristics, ideally suited as commuter machines.
The only model of BSA that had any competition or race inspiration in its design was that of the Gold Star model series. The naming and faming of this model came about, following 3 times Isle of Man Tourist Trophy (TT) winner Wal Handley’s 1937 record breaking achievement of a 107.5 mph 3-lap average speed at the infamous Brooklands banked circuit in Surrey, England UK. BSA had encouraged Handley to come out of retirement for this feat, but his spectacular winning of the Brooklands Gold Star medal was actually performed on an BSA M23 Empire Star, prompting the company to commemorate and rename its flagship model the following year as the ‘Gold Star’ and thus the legend of a serious sporting machine was born.
The pre-war 1938 and 1939 BSA M24 Gold Star was launched to the general public with great applause, as a genuine lightweight sports machine featuring an all-alloy lightweight single cylinder 350cc engine, Elektron magnesium-alloy cased gearbox and lightweight ‘Reynolds 531’ tubular-steel frame. Only 565 examples were made and found customers before the outbreak of WWII, of which only around 100 are believed to have survived today. After the war ended, BSA did not recommence civilian motorcycle production until 1946, but there was no Gold Star model available until the 1949 unveiling of the ZB32 (350cc) Gold Star with its revolutionary new hydraulic telescopic-fork front suspension which was followed by the release of a 500cc (ZB34) version the following year in 1950. This new Gold Star was soon to show its mettle on the racing scene with a Junior Clubman TT (350cc class) win for Harold Clark in that year. This was the beginning of an incredible 8-year-run of complete Gold Star domination at the TT in both Junior and Senior (500cc class) Clubman events.
As a volume motorcycle manufacturer, BSA clearly understood that race victories were the ultimate tool of brand marketing, so each successive year the flagship Gold Star model was updated with technical innovation to keep it at the cutting edge of sports motorcycling. The important thing to understand here is that the very nature of ‘Clubman’ racing deemed an event where only road-going examples of motorcycles could participate, so this ultimately struck a chord with the motorcycle-buying general public. Evolution from the ZB series Gold Star to the BB series in 1953 saw the introduction of swinging arm rear suspension and a duplex cradle frame. The 1954 CB series saw the first official ‘Clubmans’ model with clip-on handlebars, rear-set foot-pegs, quick release rear wheel and a quick-release headlamp. The pursuit of excellence in power, speed, handling and braking innovation were synonymous with subsequent DB series, which culminated in 1956 with the launch of the pinnacle DBD 34 500cc model, the additional ‘D’ signalling further power development in the enormous finned alloy cylinder head. By 1956, the Clubman’s TT events saw Gold Stars represent 48 of the 50 competing bikes, such was its outright domination of the event where 85mph average lap times of the infamous 37.73mile Isle of Man mountain TT course were achievable.
The public loved the success of the Gold Star as much as the riders who were racing them in earnest. Gold Star dominance in Clubman racing had crowned it the undisputed street-legal road-going performance motorcycle of its time. No other street-legal road machine could compete with the Gold Star. Your road-going Norton, Triumph, Velocette, Matchless or AJS was just not going to cut the mustard. Period. Come 1956, even the IOM TT authorities realised that the very concept of Clubman’s racing with a mixed field of rival manufacturers machines was extinct. The incredible success of the Gold Star pretty much brought an end to Clubman racing events and 1956 was to be the last year of the Clubman TT on the Isle of Man. Furthermore, BSA had also experienced great competition success with the Gold Star on dirt and sand, both at home and overseas with Scrambles and Flat Track versions of the machine. Wins came in the International Six Day Trials, the 200mile Daytona Beach race, and late model DBD Catalina Scrambler’s were so named after Gold Star victories in events on Catalina Island in Southern California. (N.B. I think it’s important to mention at this point, that when comparing great British motorcycles of the 1950’s we have to acknowledge the Gold Star as the ultimate performance road motorcycle. The successes of machines like the Norton Manx, AJS 7R and Matchless G50 are often mentioned in the same context, but these are not comparable with the Gold Star as they were purpose built Grand Prix race machines with over-head-camshaft engines that were never constructed or available for public use on the road).
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The final DBD model of the infamous BSA Gold Star Clubman’s ran from 1956 until 1963 and this is the very model that was to play a big part in my life. Back in 1957, Dad was completing his apprenticeship as a mechanic with Ken Priestly Motorcycles in his home town of Blyth, Northumberland. Here he proved his natural ability for engineering as Priestly’s was both a sales and repair business for British built machines. Today we take for granted that most motorcycles are easily capable of 100,000 miles without major engine failure, but back in 1957 that was most certainly not the case, with engine rebuilds being necessary and commonplace at regular intervals. Indeed, I fondly remember reading Ted Simon’s experiences in his book Jupiter’s Travels on a newer 1973 British Meridian-factory-built Triumph Tiger 100, documenting that it wasn’t capable of 10,000 miles before requiring a new pair of pistons, of which there were many on his epic circumnavigation of the globe! To put things into context, as I mentioned earlier, come the 1950’s it’s important to appreciate that Britain had pretty much been a motorcycling nation for the previous 3 decades. Back then, people used their motorcycles as their main mode of family transport and the motorcycle would also play a big part in recreation time. Motorcycles were a big part of peoples’ lives, as mass car ownership in the UK would not become a thing until the 1960’s. I am always minded of this when I look at a wonderful mono-chrome photograph of my Grandparents George and May proudly sat astride a BSA Empire Star back in the 1930’s. Even as a teenager growing up in the 1980’s, I can fondly remember our next-door neighbours Dave and Terri Mason having a 1958 BSA Golden Flash motorcycle with a huge fully enclosed egg-shaped double-adult-chair ‘Busmar’ sidecar as their family transportation ….children Gemma and Karl snuggly sheltered from the weather with Mum, whilst Dave got dutifully cold ,wet and frozen-stiff piloting the machine in all seasons!
For my Dad, living with British motorcycles and rebuilding motorcycles engines in the 1950’s was an early way of life. As his interest and skills developed, so did the lure of Clubman racing and a nearly new 1959 DBD34 Gold Star Clubman’s sat in Ken Priestley’s showroom was to prove too much of a temptation until my Grandfather George William reluctantly agreed to sign for it as payment guarantor. My Dad had secured his first DBD34 Gold Star. The specification of the Gold Star was awesome for its day. BSA had developed the high-performance push-rod driven engine as far as they could. The mighty short-stroke all alloy single cylinder engine now produced 42hp and breathed through an Amal 1½” GP racing carburettor. Power was delivered to the rear wheel by a close ratio high-geared RRT2 racing transmission which would require the clutch to be engaged gradually upto 28mph in first gear to avoid engine stall. The lightweight duplex Reynolds 531 tubular-steel cradle frame would enable superb handling and the cast alloy 190mm twin leading shoe front brake would pull the bike up quickly. This performance machine could be ridden to work weekdays and then ridden to the track at the weekend. A simple detachment of the quick-release headlamp and the bike would be ready to race at many of Britain’s re-purposed disused WWII airfields that would prove to be perfect venues for short-circuit track racing. Clubman racing at this time was open to public participation with any make of road-going motorcycle, subject to a pre-race safety inspection by a scrutineer. If you raced a Gold Star on the track, you could genuinely be in with a chance of winning. On public roads, the Gold Star had become immortalised as the one to own. It had nothing to prove and was truly the undisputed two-wheel ruler of the road and track. The bike opened up an opportunity for my Dad and of course many other riders to tour the country and compete in the many Clubman’s racing events. The ‘Goldie’ as it endearingly became known, was a unique machine for the job and became a cultural icon in Great Britain. Check out images of the Ton-Up Club, The 59 Club and those wonderful snaps of ‘cafe racer culture’ of the 1950’s and 1960’s and you will always see a Goldie, instantly recognisable with it’s huge alloy cylinder head and swept-back header pipe. Not only was it the good-looking ‘Dominant Male’ of the motorcycle pride, with its chromium plated mudguards and red-lined petrol tank adorning the legendary Gold Star medal, but it was equally respected as the ‘Lion’ of the café racer world due to its unbeatable performance. Indeed, my Dad would often describe the capabilities of the Goldie in the context of popular machines of the day. For those who could master its riding technique, the rewards were great… in standing-start races he would describe pinning the throttle open to its fullest extent and releasing the clutch gradually to accelerate hard, citing the competition as blown-away in rear view by the time he was done with second gear at 75mph. Dad really loved the Clubman racing scene and was recognised as a gifted rider of the Goldie, regularly being singled-out as a rider with most significant promise. He had great times on the bike and told great tales of speeding feats on the machine, but gradually found himself increasingly drawn towards a career in motor-cars. One of my favourite tales was partially re-created by BBC Top Gear Team of Jeremey Clarkson, Richard Hammond and James May who attempted to race the East Coast mainline train from London to Newcastle with classic vehicles. Well, back in 1959, my Dad was working as a steam-locomotive Fireman for the once LNER but by then nationalised British Railways, based at mainline station and hub Peterborough. Come the weekend, he would head North back home to Blyth on his Goldie, frequently betting with the other Driver and Fireman crews that he could beat the mainline train into Newcastle Central Station and he would meet them in the public bar on Platform One. Barely being able to pull off the feat riding at high speeds and skilfully navigating the many roundabouts that used to be part of the old A1 Trunk Road, he would arrive exhausted at the pub, order a pint and ask the bar-tender for an additional empty glass so he could taunt the train crew that he arrived so long ago that he was now on his second pint! What a class act! And a tale that was verified by several people over the years!
Jump forward to the 1970’s. By the time I had arrived in 1969, Dad was fully immersed in the world of exotic cars but his affection for the Goldie had never waned. It also began to form a big part of my life too, as I can remember riding it with him from a very young age. Not as a pillion passenger in the traditional sense of the word, but in Dad’s highly-illegal but improvised safe way of riding a competition motorcycle at speed with a young child on board. Certainly, around the age of 5, I can clearly recall sitting up-front at the leading edge of the seat in an almost foetal position with my chest and abdomen lying pressed against the fuel tank. My elbows tucked into the side of the tank with forearms out-stretched to cradle it, my fingers wrapped around the leading edge, wearing gloves, following instructions not to drop them lower because of the burn risk and heat from the huge cylinder head and exhaust header pipe. My knees touching my elbows and feet tucked-in (right side) above the gearbox and (left side) above the primary-drive side casing. Dad of course in the ‘dropped’ race position with rear-sets and clip-ons, so I’m sandwiched between him and the fuel tank. Here I experienced the thrill of competition riding on a late 1950’s DBD Goldie, being ridden how it was designed to be ridden. No description or photographs can ever reproduce this exhilarating experience. At 5 years old I’m breathing the intoxicating fumes of petrol and Castrol R vegetable racing oil. The intense vibration of the high-compression 500cc single cylinder aluminium engine at high rpm numbs my limbs and torso and shakes me to the point of dizziness. My brain and eyeballs are in tremor. The heat is intense. My right leg is burning hot and I’m scared of the GP carburettor that occasional spits flame onto my inner right thigh. The excitement of powering through corners at gravity-defying lean angles does not scare me at all. As we take the long left-hand bend past The North Farm pub on Cowpen Road at high speed, I am in some kind of ecstasy-like trance, like I am a human that can fly. Then the crushing forces of heavy braking, as I use my hands and arms to grip the tank and try to hold my body-weight from moving forward. This is not helped by a crushing adult man above me, who, to be fair, is physically moving around a lot in a confident battle to pilot the machine, but thankfully raises his head and upper body in the essential effort to catch more air and slow a speeding motorcycle that is only equipped with drum brakes and engine braking from gearbox down-changing. (Fellow racers will understand this!) I have fond memories of Dad wanting to ride each year when the annual Blyth Carnival Parade was in full swing, probably because the bike made a lot of noise and created a lot of attention too. This was a great event run by the local Round Table which often incorporated a fly-past by The Battle of Britain Memorial including multiple low passes by Hurricane and Spitfire fighter aircraft and the amazing Avro Lancaster bomber. Wow!
In the 1980’s the Goldie continued to be a big part of my life, but I had swapped places with Dad and migrated to the rear part of the seat as my body became more teenage in size. It’s a different battle of physics to hang on to the rear of the machine in full-flight and he was frequently annoyed that I was now the one crushing him and pushing him onto the fuel tank under heavy braking! By the time I’m approaching the legal solo riding age of 16, it’s apparent that the world of motorcycles has moved on from 1959. Having ridden a few Japanese motorcycles off-road with my friends by then, Dad had encouraged me to try out a DB350 Gold Star, but it honestly felt like a flimsy bicycle with a wheezy engine in my limited experience. Despite the change of times, Dad was still a big advocate of the Goldie’s capabilities in the right hands and he frequently challenged my friends and neighbours to motorcycle races. Once a competitive rider, always a competitive rider, they say. On one occasion I remember how we laughed when he talked-up the Goldie and the TT bikes of the 1950’s and early 60’s. “But Geordie! Those old clunkers are from Medieval times with no brakes!” our neighbour David Hedley mocked whilst bent-double with laughter. Another neighbour Jeff Hayes had a Suzuki X7 and was shaking his head in embarrassment and disbelief at what Dad was saying. Graeme Moss who was a few years older than me and riding a cutting-edge Yamaha RD250LC at the time, was laughing like a hyena at Dad’s great claims. Graeme had been my best friend for years, a master at egging people on, and I just couldn’t help joining in with the infectious good-spirited hysterics. Confident as ever, Dad reiterated “those 2-strokes are just over-hyped shite and you lot are just a bunch of amateur riders! I tell you what… I’ll race you along Beach Road to Seaton Sluice and back. I’ll give you a head start and I’ll still blow you off the bloody road on the Goldie!” Oh, how we continued to laugh and I’m face-swollen-red with tears rolling down my cheeks. Jeff Hayes accepted the challenge on his X7 but Graeme said (in Geordie) “you can all get lost! I’ve seen yer Fatha ride a bike – he’s a mad man!!” Growing up on a goldfish-bowl cul-de-sac in Blyth, our neighbours were more than familiar with Dad’s crazy lifestyle and often crazy antics. True to form, the race was a noisy spectacle and Dad cruised home the victor minutes ahead of Jeff. “Huh. Chicken feed” Dad insisted. “And I wasn’t even trying!” I’ll never forget Jeff mumbling, “I never saw him after Gordon Road, he was gone. Never seen nowt like it. I think I’m gunna have to eat me words. But he is a mad-man, like!” The laughing resumed and a great evening continued around the garage, taking all-things bikes and racing, with a few cans of McEwans Lager in the mix. Good times.
On a recent trip back to the UK March 2025 in The Woodman Inn pub at Thunderbridge near Huddersfield, Friday night with the lads, I was chatting with local ex-World Superbike rider, friend and much-respected racing commentator James Whitham. Being similar age we both agreed that we felt lucky to have been teenagers in the 1980’s, a brilliant period of motorcycle development where advances in power-output, brakes and suspension made it an exciting time to be alive. History had repeated itself for our generation! So many great bikes hit the market in the 70’s/80’s, but we laughed comparing older 50’s/60’s bikes having no power and no brakes and I recalled some of my Goldie experiences with Dad from my childhood years. James and I both have a real appreciation of racing and older bikes, his curiosity now stirring about early flat-tank and girder fork models from the 1920’s and 1930’s. Personally, my passion generally lies with bikes built from 1950 onward, but my love for the BSA DBD500 Gold Star was an education and knowledge passed down from Father to Son, and the passion has stuck with me ever since. Although my Dad owned hundreds of motorcycles over the years, it was always the Gold Star that captivated his heart and I’m proud to be the custodian of both a 1959 model DBD 500 Clubman’s model today and an end-of-the line 1963 Rocket Gold Star Clubman 650cc. I think they are two of the most beautiful British bikes ever made, but it’s the 500 that holds a special place in the history of motorcycling and in my family history too. These bikes are so impressive to look at it’s a shame to leave them hidden in a garage so I leave them proudly on display in my dining room for all to admire. Although I am a keen motorcyclist who tries to ride each and every day, sadly I do not have much desire to ride the Goldie preferring instead my Clubman-style retro café-racer 2016 model Triumph Thruxton 1200 that combines classic looks with 21st Century technology. But I do have to give it to the Goldie… it is the better looking and sounding of the two machines, albeit, the riding experience does feel like it could be from Medieval times haha! And boy those brakes really are nothing short of terrifying on today’s roads!
