STAYING THE DISTANCE
‘It’s great fun on the road,’ says owner Roger, in an encouraging tone of voice. There’s an agenda here, I sense, one which involves me perching on the passenger plinth of this Ariel outfit while he pilots the plot around a windswept Davidstow airfield. Long-time readers might recall that the last time I went anywhere near a trials outfit, the escapade ended in tears (and A&E). A main course of caution with a side order of suspicion seems to be the order of the day – confirmed by Roger’s next statement.
‘Mind you, it’s not too comfortable for the passenger, and it’s not a passive ride.’
No kidding?
‘The second person needs to be able to lean and clamber about all over the bike for optimum performance. Screaming is discouraged – even if both driver and passenger have occasion to be in the chair at the same time on left-handers.’
Pardon, sorry, what?
‘I can even ride it on two wheels with the third whirling around of its own free will in the fresh air. Joy!’
I decide that I’m busy today, tomorrow, and possibly for the rest of my lifetime, but my admiration for the men who created and campaigned these machines goes through the ceiling. Who built this bike, and what exactly is it?
THE MAN
Legend has it that a 19 year-old Ron Langston competed in his first novice trials event in the early 1950s – and won it. He rode trials during his time in the army, and joined the Ariel factory works team in 1956. He was an archetypal all-rounder of the old school who campaigned on two and
