Basil, although otherwise a fine fellow, was a Matchless rider. He may also have ridden an AJS, and my glazed memory suggests that he also owned a BMW, but every time I met him, he was riding a Matchless. No-one is perfect. Basil must have been more perfect than most, because he got a trophy named after him, but I digress.

Every year, with the slightest encouragement, Basil would down tools (I'm not entirely certain which tools a professional gent uses, but down them he did) and clear off to the continent. In those days, the continent was further away than it is now, somewhere near Mars if memory serves, and only Real Men™ could get there on a motorcycle which was not a BMW. Basil went au continent by Matchless. But not any old pedestrian workaday Matchless. No. Basil went there aboard a twin-cylinder Matchless. A pre-war twin, too, which narrows the options a bit.

For Basil Chilvers, quiet traveller and witty author (as well as professional gentleman) rode improbable and impressive mileages aboard a Model X. I had only seen a Model X in photographs before I met Basil, and when I met him for the first time, at Oulton Park, where he was racing another Matchless, he impressed the life out of me by offering to let me ride it. Which I did.

I was in love with the motorcycle and packed with admiration for the man. I knew lots of folk who rode Matchlesses - in those days it was hard to be Editor of a club magazine without knowing lots of folk who rode old bikes - and I knew lots of folk who rode them decent distances, but although the club enjoyed lots of debate about the relative merits of single versus twin, all those worthy machines were post-war. Pre-war bikes tended to appear at the annual Jampot Rallies, where we gazed upon them in dutiful admiration, then went back to arguing about the real reason AMC twin cranks snapped…

Did I mention that Basil raced another Matchless? He did. He once confided in me that he was always the slowest person on the racetrack, whichever track that was, but that he didn't care and loved being out there. He loved fettling his racer through the winter, when it was too climatically unkind to take his Model X for lengthy camping tours in the mysterious land across the water. In those strange days, global warming was yet to be invented and it got cold in winter. I doubt that the Model X required much in the way of fettling, being in fact The Perfect Motorcycle.

One day, just to boost my already lofty admiration, Basil sent me a photograph of his newest Matchless. It was another twin. Another pre-war twin, too, and true to type Basil had fallen for the elusive charm of a Silver Arrow. Go look it up.