Team Obsolete

It seems that I start many of my postings here, with some sort of apology for it being a while since my previous post. I'll admit that there are websites that I visit, which don't get updated that often, and I'm frustrated by that. Not because I'm angry, but because I'm hungry for good content, compelling stories and inspiring photos. I follow a few people / websites because I find that the things they do with motorbikes, are intriguing to me. I'm always hopeful and forever looking forward to each new post. I'll reflect that same mentality back upon myself, and vow to do a better job in keeping up with fresh material, here in this space. That can be a difficult task at times, because, to be honest, there's not always something great to write about. It takes something special to stir me into putting my thoughts out into the motorcycle ethos, which is already full of white noise. So, while I'll try harder to post more often, I'll also be selective in the material, as to not bore anyone with mundane news.
On a side note, you can also follow along on Instagram, should you choose: @solomotorcycleworks

Now that we've got that out of the way, let's get to it. Team Obsolete...
If you haven't heard of them, I'll take this time to welcome you to what is apparently your first day on the planet. Welcome to Earth. Or at least, welcome to vintage motorcycling and a celebration of those who preserve the importance of it's history.

Each year, Team Obsolete hosts a Holiday Party, which is by invite only and quite top secret. As it should be of course. It's honestly a sort of mythical event, which I only hear about each year, after the event has passed, and those that were in attendance, start to share and circulate stories. I wait, with baited breath each December to hear and see, little snippets of photos from what is obviously a shrine to all things which I hold dear and only dream about. The sort of place that I think about in the hours that it takes me to fall asleep each night. Glorious old racing motorcycles in their original, as raced condition. Cared for, preserved, raced, repaired - repeat. How can such a place exist? How can such a small handful of people, have acquired and saved so many historic and important machines? A complex question, with such a simple answer; because they did, because they do.

Before I get too far down my philosophical rabbit hole, lets get back to the Holiday Party. By some stroke of luck, I was invited this year. Yep, me. Can you believe it? Neither could I. But before I started asking why, I decided that I'd just simply enjoy it. I'd seize the chance to attend and push plans aside and rearrange things, to make this happen. And then life happened. As it always does. A personal tragedy and the loss of my very best friend, required that I attend a memorial in California. And as much as the Team Obsolete collection, has drawn my attention for longer than I can recall, my only thoughts, were with my friend and his family, and I wanted and needed to be there. To celebrate his life, and mourn the loss of someone that is unexplainably important to me. And while this certainly isn't the forum to discuss such a thing, it just speaks to the fact that we're all only here for a short time. I thought about it; what would he want me to do? That's an easy question to ask yourself, but a much more difficult one to act upon. So I did what he'd do. What he'd want me to do. And I decided that I'd do both. I'd take pause and be there for him and his family, but I'd also do something for myself, which I had always wanted to do. So I flew from Boston, to California and joined in the celebration of his life. A life well lived. After just 25 hours in California, I hopped a red eye flight back to Boston and then drove straight to New York for the Holiday Party. This was all shaping up to be one Hell of a story. Just as all good things in life, tend to do.

Upon arrival at a very non descript building in New York, I was greeted by a simple sign, printed on a sheet of paper. It read, "If you're here for the Team Obsolete party, call this number XXX-XXX-XXX". So I called the number, announced myself and waited. Standing there, on this random street in New York, where everything and everyone, can be completely anonymous, I was anxious. Taken back by the fact that this building, housed such great treasures. It's like a million other buildings in New York. They're just buildings. Nothing special about them, right? Well, normally that is the answer, but not in this case. A cold night, December, New York city, and the dull, creaking noise of a freight elevator slowing approaching me. The door opens from the center and with all mood setting techniques, is lit only by the glow of a heat lamp. I'm welcomed inside and and up we start upward. It was only a few floors, but certainly the slowest elevator ride I've ever taken. Partly due to my nervous anxiety and partly due to the fact that the elevator was older than the motorbikes I was about to see. And then, after all that, the door opens to a bustling group of people, all circling round a well lit and perfectly displayed collection of motorcycles. Pure glory...

Thank you for hanging in there so far, and reading these words. I hope you enjoy the photos:

Giacomo Agostini raced this fine machine:

Peg board, cluttered with treasures:

Honda RC165:

A Matchless G50 roller, that also had a tail light:

This is a terrible, zoomed in photo of a very special Manx Norton tank. It's housed on this shelf, way up in the rafters. I simply must have it. It needs a real life, back on a featherbed framed Norton, and not on this shelf.

A machine that I never even knew existed. Built by John Surtees, but sold to the Arter brothers due to a conflict that made it so Surtees couldn't campaign it. Raced by Peter Williams. Does it get any better than that?:

Spare G50 motor on display:

Details - While most in attendance, socialized, ate and drank, I was that guy on the floor, studying every detail and snapping these photos. So many neat details, like the yellow nylon covered clutch cable:

The 3 Arter Matchless':

 Three Matchless G50's that were all ridden by Dick Mann:

The very machine that Dave Roper raced to 1st place at the Isle of Man:

Hand painted stripes on the G50 petrol tank:

If you look close, you'll see that this Amal matchbox float, was cast, and the boss for the fuel line outlet on this side, was never machined. Obviously, it was made only for a single cylinder machine with the need for only one carburetor:

Cooling fins:

I'd like to wrap up this post by expressing my gratitude and thanks to Team Obsolete for their generous invitation. I'll certainly never forget this evening. And I'd be remiss if I didn't also say Thank You for everything that you've done to preserve all these important and glorious machines. The world of motorcycles, needs more people like you.