I remember in the mid sixties my ex father-in-law expressed a desire to "have a go" on my Vincent Rapide, he had been a keen motorcyclist after the war, I believe his last bike was a BSA Gold Flash. As I was courting his daughter I could hardly refuse, so off he went, with a big handful of throttle, sans helmet, or any other protective clothing, and returned after an anxious wait by me, with a huge smile on his face, as I remember it, his first comment whilst dismounting was "BLOODY HELL" he had never ridden a Vincent before.