And I’m back…..

Winter’s finally over, and I’ve emerged from hibernation like a confused Scottish bear wondering who drank all the good whisky. I’ve been “planning” all winter—which is to say, staring at my bike bits and muttering things like “aye, I’ll get to that soon” while accomplishing absolutely hee‑haw. The Fall Frame hangs still in my garage from when it was painted.. well cured. Likely some slight touchup when the sun hits it soon.

My garage is now so full that if I drop a spanner, I need a search party and possibly a priest. Three other bikes, woodworking tools, and whatever else I’ve hoarded over the years. The basement wasn’t an option either—my wife’s office is down there, and disturbing that would’ve been a tactical error of historic proportions.

But enough excuses. Time to get back at it.

The Spring Swap Sales kicked off May 2nd at the Paris Fair Grounds. As a member of the Ontario BSA Owners Group, we’d planned a noon meetup. The swap itself? Smaller than expected. English motorcycle parts were rarer than a Scotsman turning down free whisky. Even Mario Abela—who can sniff out a BSA part like a bloodhound—found next to nothing. Mostly Harley and Japanese bits, which I suppose are now “vintage,” though that still feels like calling a teenager “wise.”

I saw a set of shocks like my originals (see above), but since I built the special tool to strip mine down, I’m committed to restoring them. They’ll be Version 1.0—functional, slightly rough, and full of character. Just like most of us. Good enough to ride, questionable enough to keep me humble.

I attacked the rust with my 3M wheel, and it chewed through it like a Scotsman through shortbread. Primer’s on, Chrome‑ish paint is coming, and the collets are looking surprisingly respectable. The shocks are primed too and will soon be black like the frame and my mood when someone calls my BSA “cute.”

Not much else for now, but the 2026 journey has begun, and I hope you’ve missed the updates like a Scotsman misses his favourite dram. Swap meets continue, but finding BSA parts these days is like finding a unicorn wearing a sporran. So I’ll be prowling eBay next.

And that’s where I’ll leave it for now—shocks primed, tools scattered, and me standing in the garage like a proud Scottish warrior who’s just survived round one with a rusty chrome beast. The next chapter promises more action, more parts, and probably more swearing.

So grab your favourite dram and stay tuned. The next post might just be the moment where the old BSA roars back to life… or tries to set itself on fire again.

Either way, it’ll be worth the read (me hopes).