Andy Wallace sent us this story from Devon UK…
So many regrettable incidents in my life can be recalled by starting with ‘it seemed like a good idea at the time, but . . .’ and this is one. About 10 years ago I was relaxing on holiday in France when I heard the unmistakable sound of a number of old motorcycles pulling into the village square. I ran up to see what was happening and one of those events happened which changes your life. A small single cylinder red 4-stroke thrummed past, and when it stopped I saw the Moto Morini decal on the tank. Now I’ve owned a 1978 Moto Morini 3 ½ from new but I didn’t know they’d made anything this small. Chatting with the rider it turned out to be a 1960 Corsarino Sport – red paintwork, tiny clip-ons, tiny 50cc 4-stroke motor – a miniature 350! I knew I had to have one. However, over the ensuing years, despite chasing a few leads down, I realised that I was not going to be able to afford one. Again, whilst on holiday in France a few years later, idly browsing eBay, I came across a little motorbike I’d never heard of – an Omer Giramondo 50cc. It was selling cheap, so it seemed a good idea to buy it. When I went to pick it up I discovered it was recently imported from Italy, unrestored, and with the patina of age and neglect a hundred youthful owners had bestowed on it for 40 years. Would I restore it – rebuild the wheels with new rims and spokes, get the frame and cycle parts re-sprayed? I decided not to – after all, this type of machine was built by hundreds of small Italian factories in the sixties, using off-the-shelf parts like headlights and seats, and were built down to a price. How do you not over restore something that when new had the thinnest coat of paint on it, flimsy chrome, basic shocks, matchstick forks and un-lacquered stickers on the tank? Trying to get the machine registered for the road became a nightmare. After three years of trying (there are no factory records, no owners club, and the IMOC could not provide a dating certificate) I turned to North Leicester Motorcycles. Stuart Mayhew agreed to get it up to MoT standard, provide a dating letter and register the machine with an age related plate for a very reasonable sum. As I agreed to it, Stuart looked me in the eye and said, “You know, it’s not worth it.” And he was right – in financial terms it wasn’t – but something about the machine and the challenge it represented made me say, “It is to me.” And it seemed like a good idea at the time. Finally on the road, the Minarelli 2-stroke engine has a hand gear change, three speeds, and a top speed of 24 mph. Friends laughed when I turned up in it and said, “Why not tune it up?” to which I would reply, “The suspension and brakes hardly cope with what little power it’s got, I don’t want any more!” The Omer became a bit of a fun joke as I used it for shopping and gentle bimbles about the Devon countryside. As the annual Welsh National Rally came around this year, which I normally compete in on either my 350 Morini or my Triumph Daytona 675, it seemed like a good idea to do it on the Omer. Certain it would break down, I entered the bike in the Rally. As the date got nearer, I started to think about the reality – big mileages, awful weather, mountains . . . not a good mix with a 50cc bike. However, the Omer took me 200 miles in 10 hours non-stop apart from refuelling, crossing and re-crossing the Brecon Beacons and Black Mountains (at one point I was holding it in first for 20 minutes up a mountain road at a constant 7mph and was overtaken by a cyclist) and the bike not only ran perfectly but also earned a Bronze Award. It also earned my respect and I no longer yearn for a shiny red jewel-like Moto Morini Corsarino – a rusty green unloved 1968 Omer Giramondo will do me very nicely, thank you. At the finish of the Welsh Rally 2010. Note the bottle of 2-stroke oil duct-taped to the rear mudguard – I carried a small bottle of 2-stroke oil in the toolbox but hadn’t realised the mileage I would have to do and had to buy this bottle at the second refuelling stop.