Whilst the purists would hang you from the nearest tree, I wouldn’t as long as that brass rod is a tickler. You can’t possibly ride an old BSA (Ba5tard’s Stopped Again) without the constant, headache inducing smell of unburnt petrol surrounding you at all times. The quaint old tradition of washing the bike in hydrocarbons before starting is as traditional as setting the points with a fagpaper. Along with the feeble lights, cr4p brakes, iffy handling and oil leaks it’s what made British bikes the envy of the world.