MORINI 3½ ..................................................

RealClassic played host to a truly remarkable machine; a Morini 3½. Frank Westworth got carried away

RealClassic played host to a truly remarkable machine; a Morini 3½. Frank Westworth got carried away

Here’s a thing. It’s a small thing, but here it is anyway. For as long as I can remember I have recommended 350 Morinis to riders asking for a decent classic middleweight motorcycle. I’ve ridden several, so the recommendations have been honest enough, but I’ve never actually lived with one, as it were. Now, thanks to the considerable generosity of the Morini Riders’ Club, we had one parked up in The Shed for quite a long time. Rowena of this parish has already told you all about the background and the bike itself (that would be in last month’s magazine, in case you’ve happily forgotten last month already), and she started her story with exactly the same revelation as I just have. Curious, huh?

First things first – because first impressions count for a lot. Although it is perfectly OK to allow increasing experience to correct an unfortunate first impression, it is always better if the bike makes a decent impression in the first place. As here, happily. First off, the stands on a Morini are simple to operate. Both of them. Note this: some other Italian machines have terrible stands, particularly the insane fly-off bike dropping devices beloved of madmen at Ducati and Moto Guzzi. The 3½ has a pair of great stands. This may not be a deal breaker for you, but after the idiocy of the sidestand on our very own Moto Guzzi V35 – the obvious bike for a riding comparison here – I have grown seriously intolerant of useless stands. And of useless design in general, truth be told.

The bike is also impossibly easy to wheel around. The Shed is a fairly crowded place, with all manner of obstructions and impediments to safety and sanity to get in the way of an extra and unfamiliar motorcycle. Not a problem here: it’s not at all top heavy; it’s slim, it has great steering lock. The only extra which would make it perfect would be folding footrests to save the shins from further bruising. A chap can ask, but a chap cannot have everything, we’re told.

A chap can also ask for an electric foot, which this Morini does not have. Instead it boasts a left-foot kickstarter, which is not entirely to my tastes. I’ve lived with a couple of bikes graced with left-foot levers – Matchless, MZ, a Harley and a single Moto Guzzi – but don’t really like them. In fact the reason I sold that kicker-only Matchless was because I hated starting it, wimp that I am. Rather joyously, I can report that in the case of this 3½ the kickstarting is easy. Very easy. Turn on, enrich the mix, kick. No special routine necessary. It starts remarkably easily. If the old Harris G80 had started as easily as this I would still have it. Each carb has a little plastic lever which the rider lifts to enrichen

The first eye-catcher here is possibly the exhaust wrap. It’s there for a very good reason! Second is the left-side kickstarter, and many riders would ignore the daftly-situated ignition key

The clocks were interesting, with the electronic tacho occasionally turning itself off and the speedo may not be the original. Most interesting object here, however, is the middle red light. Can you work out what it does? The answer’s in the story

If you look closely, you can see the little plastic lever atop the carb. This is the enrichment device which makes starting likely. Fiddly to operate wearing gloves, so you rapidly develop a technique

Daily riding duties at RCHQ usually involve another, rather different, V-twin. The big question was whether the Morini would provide the same reliable transport