As pictures of Classic Legends’ Jawa motorcycles appear on the Internet, owners of the original Czech-branded machines, including myself, cannot help but recall the staccato exhaust note of the 250 cc machines in the days gone by.

Of course, it roared only after the mandatory pumping of the kick-starter lever, repeatedly, before delivering the sharp kick that brings the engine to life. Self-starters were only for cars!

More often, starting a cold engine involved the ritual of tapping or ‘tickling’ the carburettor float needle. This was the choke, and was followed by the kick and a well-timed twist of the throttle for the motorcycle to start.

For me, the first motorcycle was at that time a 15-year-old, olive green 1969 vintage Jawa with the registration number MSL 3675. It was a gift from intensely-badgered parents who had given in and got one for their college-going son.

The surprise and thrill of seeing it standing outside the house, delivered by ‘Jawa’ John, a local mechanic, is still fresh in my memory even after so many decades. Those were happier days before emission standards and noise pollution concerns made things so much more complicated.

To me, the first and immediate job with this prized possession was to pull out the core from the muffler. That multiplied the volume of the exhaust note and made it deeper. This was followed by the mandatory ride around the locality with friends, being the perfect pest to residents and a hazard to other road users.

Looking back, motorcyclists then had it good with a lot less traffic on the roads. Evenings were spent with other riders. Life was a lot simpler. So were the machines.

As a college student, with lots of spare time at hand, many afternoons were spent with the mechanics as they serviced the machines. You picked up a lot about the motorcycle as they worked on it. The bike was entirely mechanical, and what you saw was what it was, period. None of the present day electronic stuff while the sensors were effectively the seat of your pants. You just sensed it when the motorcycle did not feel or sound right and a visit to the mechanic was the solution.

If something had broken, it showed. Then you had the choice to buy a new part or take it to the welder or tinker who would put it together for you. Someone with enough know-how to wield a screw driver and spanner could take most of the machine apart and put it back together. After years of fun, Jawa had become Yezdi and in the early 1990s, a Yezdi Classic replaced my faithful Jawa, which had been my companion for years. Essentially, it was the same fun machine but with a more streamlined look and indicator lights.

Today, as reports talk of the reincarnated Jawa set to compete with the legendary Bullet 350 cc, I recall how it was different back then when each had its own niche. But now, with both the brands reinvented, maybe they will once again carve out a slot for themselves. And am I going to buy the new Jawa? Perhaps I will to relive those glorious days all over again!