A home-built answer to a real-world problem
Words/ Photos: Rich Orriss @TheGirderClub
We all love a machine that puts a smirk on your face and sends that warm feeling through your bones. It could be something odd, clever, or just beautifully wrong in all the right ways. And if it is motorcycle-related then all the better!
At the 2025 Where is Anna event, and the Oude Klepper Parade in Belgium, there was an unusual little motor that covered all of the above. Amidst the rows of motorcycles, sidecar outfits, and veteran machines appeared a small three-wheeled contraption with an oddly familiar yet entirely unique stance: the Busy Bee.
Low, narrow and purposeful, it looked less like something from a catalogue and more like something that had escaped from a shed – which, of course, is pretty much what it had done.
One Man, One Idea
The Busy Bee was the vision and handiwork of a single man. It was created in 1919 by J. A. Mills of Mansfield in Nottinghamshire. Having served an apprenticeship in the cycle industry, Mills moved on to motorcycles before opening his own garage. With these skills, and in the inventive, make-do spirit of the immediate post-war years, he set about building his own motor car from scratch in his workshop at Larch Farm Crossroads.
Mills was not alone in thinking this way. Britain in the late 1910s and early ’20s was full of mechanically minded men who had returned from the war with practical skills, confidence, and a willingness to improvise. If something didn’t exist – or cost too much – they simply built it themselves.
Built for £120 – and Built to Last
Construction of the Bee began immediately after the First World War and was completed within a year at a total cost of £120 – a significant but not extravagant sum for such an undertaking. What emerged was a single-seat, Morgan-style cyclecar that would go on to serve Mills faithfully for the rest of his motoring life.
Remarkably, Mills is said to have covered over 100,000 miles in the Busy Bee, using it as everyday transport come rain or shine (except for during the dark days of the war where it was laid up). This was no pampered curiosity; it was a working vehicle, expected to start, run, and get its owner home long before anyone spoke of “preservation”.
The frame was fabricated from light but strong tubing, while the body consisted of three interlocking plywood sections secured with just ten bolts. It was not a coach-built automobile, but more a practical motor to get from A to B. It was also pretty simple to dismantle, repair or modify – and it reflected Mills’ background as a cycle engineer rather than a stylist.
More Than a One-Off
Although the Busy Bee is best remembered today as a unique home-built special, it briefly stepped beyond the confines of Mills’ garage. In the early 1920s, the Busy Bee appeared in contemporary motoring literature as a listed make, produced in very small numbers and built to order from Mills’ Mansfield premises.
An October 1922 issue of The Light Car described the Busy Bee as compact, unconventional and comfortable – designed to offer greater cleanliness and weather protection than a motorcycle, while remaining affordable and economical. It was precisely the niche that many cyclecar builders were chasing at the time, even if few survived long enough to establish a lasting name.
Cyclecars: A Practical Answer
The Busy Bee sits squarely within the cyclecar movement, which flourished in Britain and Europe before being swept aside by mass-produced small cars. Cyclecars were not intended as status symbols, they were solutions to allow the gentleman, or gentlewoman to move about.
Full-size cars were expensive to buy, tax and maintain. Motorcycles were cheaper but exposed and impractical for many uses. The cyclecar bridged the gap, using motorcycle engines, chain drive and lightweight construction to keep costs down while offering some degree of comfort and weather protection.
Most were fragile, many were short-lived, and the majority vanished once they wore out. That the Busy Bee did not is a reflection both of its solid construction and of Mills’ continual development of the design over time.
From Stag to AJS – Powering the Bee
The Busy Bee was originally powered by a 4.5hp Stag engine (presumably the 763cc single cylinder also used in the 1914 Stag cyclecar) – adequate for its purpose, but not overly exciting. In 1928, Mills replaced it with a 6hp AJS V-twin, transforming the character of the car and bringing it closer to what we see today.
By this point, AJS had established itself as one of Britain’s most respected motorcycle manufacturers. Founded in Wolverhampton in 1909 by Albert John Stevens, the firm’s V-twin engines were known for their torque, reliability and endurance. They found their way not only into motorcycles, but into cyclecars, light cars and industrial machinery – anywhere a compact, hard-working power unit was required.
For Mills, the AJS engine was an inspired choice: mechanically robust, and more than capable of propelling a lightweight three-wheeler at an entertaining pace. The Busy Bee is said to be good for 50mph with a cruise speed of 35-40mph, and it doesn’t half look sporty with that slender body, bulbous backside, and fishtail exhausts running along the flank.
That spirit was captured when I wrote about the Busy Bee trotting along the road in the 2025 The Girder Club Where is Anna report:
“The riders departed in two waves – the veterans first, followed by the vintage clan. I had to play catch up after capturing shots for the website, but was soon hot on the heels of a funky contraption dubbed the ‘Busy Bee’.”
“This three-wheel automobile was built in 1919 as a one-off and is powered by a 6hp AJS V-Twin. It thumped along the winding country lanes with Kate Clark-Kennedy at the helm, who was not hanging about and took some doing to catch and overtake on my Sunbeam – which I thought was meant to be fast!”
Ingenious Engineering
Power was transmitted in a characteristically inventive fashion: chain drive from the engine to a mid-mounted Sturmey-Archer clutch and three-speed gearbox, and then by a second chain to the single rear wheel. The rear wheel was mounted in forks and suspended on quarter elliptic springs dampened by Hartford shock absorbers. It was compact, efficient and built from proven components – exactly the sort of solution you arrive at when working alone with limited space and resources.
The front end followed motorcycle practice too, with two leading wheels and exposed mechanicals. While its outline echoed the Morgan three-wheelers that were gaining popularity at the time, the Busy Bee remained a singular creation – evolving over the years as Mills refined and improved it.
The layout of the controls is straight forward, with the gear-change lever between the driver’s legs and clutch and brake pedals placed one on each side ot the transmission tunnel, on which is also mounted an independent hand brake. Like the foot brake, this is of the external-contracting type operating on the rear wheel. The advance and retard lever, and carburettor controls are mounted on a short crossbar above the steering wheel, together with a valve lifter for starting. This process in itself is similar to that of bikes of the era, and is done by a kick start pedal which is located on the off side of the body.
A Life Well Travelled
For decades, Mills drove the Busy Bee on a daily basis, no doubt turning heads on the roads of Nottinghamshire and beyond. The abolition of the basic petrol ration however, forced Mills to take the Bee off the road, however unlike many cyclecars that were used up and discarded, the Bee survived. It was then purchased by a Mansfield man, who knew the machine and wanted it for nostalgic reasons. It was later sold to an avid collector, and this is how it looked at the time.
In 2013 it returned to private ownership when its current custodian, Kate Clark-Kennedy, fought off determined bidding to secure it at auction. Her dedication has ensured that the Busy Bee continues to live as it always has – on the road – and despite its petite, almost bashful appearance, it has one hell of a personality. This is Kate, alongside her partner Tony who rode the Oude Klepper on his ABC 400.
On Continental Roads Once Again
At Where is Anna and the Oude Klepper Parade, the Busy Bee was shown, and received a lot of attraction, but it was also driven in anger, keeping pace with factory-built motorcycles and sidecar outfits.
Spectators were treated to the sight of a century-old home-built special chugging confidently along modern roads, its plywood panels, exposed mechanicals and V-twin throb summing up everything people love about early motoring.
A True Survivor
In a world where so many cyclecars have vanished without a trace, the Busy Bee is still here, and one of those small but fascinating oddities in life. Built in a small garage in Mansfield, it is still buzzing along roads more than 100 years later – and that, we like, very much.
It reminds us that the history of motoring is not only written by great factories and famous marques, but by determined individuals like J. A. Mills – men who built their own future, one bolt at a time.
an article by The Girder Club
— the home of vintage motorcycles, tall tales, and machines that refuse to behave —
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