We were on a wide expanse of concrete at Harringay Arena,

Wal Phillips ex Lacey Cotton/Jap at Brooklands 1928

Duggan's home track. Wal Phillips, the former Brooklands and Stamford Bridge speedway star, is the Harringay team manager and he supervises the preparation of the racing machines. His warning was wise. With just a fraction of throttle opening, the JAP engine would plonk into life in the manner of a docile side-valve. A little more throttle and, as I learned later, the front wheel would rear up well clear of the ground.

In almost alarming contrast to the usual megaphoned road racing machine, the speedway engine produces power early on - harsh, thumping, tearing power immediately the throttle is opened.

The experience is thrilling - and disconcerting. It was fortunate that there is a large stretch of concrete at Harringay. At the slightest twitch of the quick-action throttle grip the exhaust bellowed, and Duggan's model shot forward. Every power impulse could be felt through the unsprung saddle and the wide, bare handlebars. It was a sledgehammer, pneumatic drill-type urge which, it seemed, must rip the transmission to ruins or tear the engine out of the frame.

Within a few seconds the wind was screaming in my ears. I have never felt more unsafe in my life. No footrest on the left, no tank to grip, small tyres, very little front fork movement, no brakes - all I could do was hang on to the dithering handlebars and roll back the throttle grip as smartly as possible!
And then, with only the engine on the over-run, and my feet on the ground, to restrain forward progress, an age seemed to pass before speed was slow enough for my liking.

But you quickly pick up the wrinkles. A few bursts up and down the concrete and I was able to judge when to turn on the heat - and when to turn it off. But as I had to rely almost entirely on grip on the handlebars to stay aboard, there remained a certain precariousness about the experience.

Making his mark: Vic winning the 1947 London Riders Championship at New Cross

This dashing along the concrete was simply a preliminary to get the feel of the JAP speedway power unit, and to appreciate the contrast with a road racing machine. A road racer has comfortable, secure seating, magnificent road holding, plus a pair of good brakes. And four or five thousand rpm are required before poke is on tap. With Duggan's job, the figure must be near four to five hundred.

Speedway machines, too, have no transmission shock-absorber, and the harshness mentioned earlier - felt to some extent even at high rpm - persists as a major contrasting impression between the two types of racing machine.

On a speedway model of his own design, with the engine almost horizontal, Wal Phillips led the way to Harringay's own practice ground, a stretch of cinders large enough for resonably wide-radius sliding. 'Just put your left foot forward, cant the bike over slightly, and turn it up,' said Wal. I did.

With an ease that surprised me, I found myself in a smooth, controllable slide and keeping a fairly accurate, curved line. Full throttle towards the other end of the practice ground, close the throttle, left foot forward and heel the model over at the same time, feed in the throttle and - we're sliding again.

But not so steadly this time. The practice ground is fairly uneven in parts and the cinders are lumpy. The back wheel slides too far out and I over-correct, slide too far again and the whole performance is a bit ragged.

I keep at it. More turns . . . Some I feel are neat and tidy, others not too clever at all. Then, inevitably sooner or later I suppose, we slide to earth in a not ungraceful twirl.

I picked myself up ruefully and awaited the expected scolding from Wal Phillips. Expected, because I knew the model was prepared to the minute for Duggan to thrill the crowds a few hours later at the evening meeting. But no hard words were said: 'Ah, that's nothing,' laughed Wal, 'these bikes are crashproof; you just empty them out and carry on.'

To 'empty them out' is to shake away the cinders from the chains and the clutch. Shorn of every component that does not serve an essential purpose, the speedway machine of today is a mere 200lb of functional potency.

Sliding is a more strenuous excercise than it appears, and while I had a breather, we discussed riding styles.

After the triumph: Vic with his mechanic and Wal Phillips (right) celebrate his championship win at Wembley in 1948.

In brief, the theory is this: the speedway rider wages a constant fight against wheelspin. The major aim is to obtain maximum traction and get as much value as possible from the bhp available. The technique of today is to keep the machine fairly near the vertical on the turn, put the left foot forward and your weight on the inside rather than on the saddle.

Indeed, some riders almost stand on the track and the saddle comes under their right thigh. The day of the foot-trail, of the rearward sitting cinder showerer, was left behind long ago. Yet I think most of us would feel it was natural to ride in the outhmoded style.

Wal's comments were fresh in my mind as I was again pushed off. To keep the machine more upright, and my weight on the inside was not too easy. Duggan favours a lowish saddle and footrest, with handlebars high and wide. I would have preferred a slightly higher footrest, and handlebars with at least a passing resemblance to the orthodox. But I was able to get the drift of the right technique.

Up to a point, the less the rear wheel slides out the more precise the control, and it is surprising how quickly a curve can be taken provided you can muster the guts to start the slide at a speed that seems too fast. Surprising, too, how long you can remain master of the model after a mistake has been made. Most of the weight of a speedway machine is set low, and good controllability results.

An even lower centre of gravity is the theme behind Wal Phillips's latest 'Special'. The JAP engine is inclined and the unit forms part of the frame between the rear seat tube and the front down tube. At the base of the down tube is a fabricated lug which is attached by means of the rocker box bolts.

Call it a cheeky layout if you will, but the machine shows great promise. In the hands of Jimmy Grant, who makes no claim to be a topliner - 1948 was his first in a First Division team - the Wal Phillips Special has put up very good times.

Speaking as a novice I was happier on the Special than on the championship-winning Duggan machine. How much of my preference was due to the more suitable riding position of the Special I cannot say, but I am sure I was faster and less untidy in the slides.

During another breather we discussed Vic Duggan's machine. Most speedway models look very similar, and the championship winner has nothing particularly unusual about its appearance. In general nearly all the top riders have their own views on frames and are trying out new ideas constantly, though the alterations they make are not always easily discernible. Duggan made up his own frame - he is an expert welder - but it does not vary much from what is accepted as

Duggan presented with Speedway Riders Championship Trophy 1948 by Harringay Manager George Kay at Harringay the night after his Wembley win.

standard.

'Nor is there anything special about the engine,' said Wal. 'It has a compression ratio of 14.5 to 1 for methanol fuel, and has standard components. What we do is get all the power we can by careful assembly. Gear ratio is 9 to 1.'

Wal Phillips, it transpired, has spent a good deal of time at the JAP works experimenting on speedway engines. Though much was learned and more power was obtained, it was usually the wrong sort of power - power at high revs. The great attraction of the speedway engine is its remarkabnle high torque at low revs.

In Wal's view it is next to impossible to improve on the standard product if this characteristic is to be retained. Hence there is nothing special about all the engines under his care.

I couldn't resist a few more clutch starts (just to see how easy it must be to lose a race before it has started), and a few more full-throttle bursts along the concrete. The fun had been new and exhilerating.

*THIS article first appeared in the Motor Cycle in December 1948.