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Pete Patton was born on 13th July 1941 at Woking. He attended New Haw Primary School, then West Byfleet County Secondary and Fulbrook County Secondary; and his gregarious personality meant that he was never short of friends.
By the mid-1950's the 'gang' had expanded, reminisced Pete Patton, who by then was a young teenager. John from Warren Road and Raymond Norris had joined us. Lads of that age (about 14) will always see if they can get a drink and have a crafty fag.
There was a club in Pyrford where, if you went round the back and tapped on a little window, you could buy half a pint of shandy or brown ale, but never more than a pint between us. We would cycle over to Pyrford and one day Ray had got a tandem from somewhere and he took me over to the club on the back.
It was the most horrific ride of my life! It was dark on the back and you couldn't see anything. Ray was laughing, head down shouting 'hold tight' as we swung round the bends. We hurtled down narrow footpaths and back alleys at a fearsome rate (or so it seemed from the back) and I didn't think we would ever get there. But we did and I certainly needed a second drink! I made sure we went back on the roads.
In the early sixties a gang of us would go motor biking together. Barry had a Gold Flash, Jossy had a Triumph 110, Georgy had an Ariel Colt, Jim had a BSA Road Rocket, Smudger had an Ariel Arrow and Brian and an Italian fellow had Triumphs as well. I had a BSA B31.
Jossy had a 'kill' button on his bike that would stop the engine. One of his favourite tricks was to drive down the High Street and if there was a bus stop full of people he would kill the engine on his approach and release the button as he passed the stop - there would be two explosions as the bike backfired through both pots (cylinders) and it would sound like two bombs going off. Women would be screaming and any of us at the bus stop would be laughing like drains!
'Baby Face' McGregor was the scourge of our lives. He was a speed cop and rode a Triumph Speed Twin. He was always on our backs. At one time I was in hospital after an operation on my ankles and Baby Face was in the same ward having come off his bike and broken his leg. All my mates would come and visit me and, as they passed his bed, they would lean on the weights holding his leg up and call 'hello Mr McGregor'. He was not amused!
The Ace of Spades café on the A3 was a favourite haunt for bikers. A girl would put a record on the juke box, point to one of the lads, and he would have to run out to his bike, drive as fast as he could to the roundabout and back before the record stopped. One night the coppers nicked a couple of hundred of us for speeding!
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