MAICO TAIFUN
Continental motorcycle philosophy, design and engineering in the 1950s were rather different to UK homegrown varieties. Alan Cathcart tries out a Taifun…
Continental motorcycle philosophy, design and engineering in the 1950s were rather different to UK home-grown varieties. Alan Cathcart tries out a Taifun…
The British formula for establishing a motorcycle company frequently entailed family ties. Take Matchless, Velocette, AJS or Greeves, for example, all with two or more siblings running the show – whereas in Germany it was invariably large corporations which owned the twowheeled marketplace, firms like BMW, NSU, DKW or Zündapp. But one German concern was a standout family affair: Maico.
For fans of 1970s off-road racing, when ‘Maico-maniacs’ like Adolf Weil, Åke Jonsson and Willy Bauer gave Husqvarna, CZ and the Japanese factories the hurry-up in winning GP races and peopling Motocross World Championship rostrums, it’s often a surprise to learn that the West German company was also a successful road bike manufacturer in its own right, always with two-stroke motors of its own design.
Founded in 1920s Germany by the Maisch brothers, Wilhelm and Otto, as a spinoff from their father Ulrich’s car repair workshop in Poltringen, 30 miles south of Stuttgart, Maisch & Company originally produced cycle accessories, but in 1931 began making complete bicycles, too. From there to attaching a proprietary 98cc or 118cc ILO two-stroke engine from 1934 onwards was a logical step. However, despite healthy growth the brothers were later forced to change direction to support Germany’s war effort by supplying aviation components for the Luftwaffe. This underwrote the move to a much larger factory 45km further south at Pfäffingen-tubingen, also in the Swabia region. Remarkably, given its proximity to Stuttgart, the Maico factory emerged from the war with very little bomb damage, and also fortunately found itself in the section of occupied Germany under Allied administration, rather than subject to Russian control, like DKW.
However, this didn’t stop the French occupying forces ransacking the Maico factory and removing all its best machine tools, and moreover denying them permission to make even bicycles again, let alone powered two-wheelers. Undaunted,
the Maisch brothers started off making children’s toys, though Otto Maisch now ran Maico, as a consequence of brother Wilhelm’s previous Nazi party membership. This meant he was disqualified from owning a controlling interest in a West German firm, leaving Otto with 60% ownership of Maico, against Wilhelm’s 40%.
They then found space in the American zone just 10km away at Herrenberg to set up a factory where, in 1947, they were authorised by US forces to restart building motorcycles. Instead of the bought-in engines used in the ’30s, Maico began building the first of its own power units which would equip the company’s products from then on, until its demise in 1986. Piston-port twostrokes from first to last, these began with the 125cc single designed by Willy Tetzlaff, which powered the M125 debuting in 1947, followed in 1949 by the longer-legged twin-port M150 and, in 1952, M175 versions.
As the Fifties dawned, Maico thrived in playing its part in making West Germans mobile again, with production rising from 5600 motorcycles in 1950 to almost 17,000 in 1952. 1950 saw the introduction of the Maico-mobil, a highly innovative model sold until 1958 which combined the convenience of a scooter with the handling of a motorcycle, and was marketed by Maico as a ‘car on two wheels’. More scurrilously nicknamed ‘The Dustbin’, it had all-enveloping aluminium bodywork over a tubular steel frame which enclosed the drivetrain, and mostly protected its rider from the elements, with integral luggage space and a rear-mounted spare tyre.
For those requiring something more conventional, in 1955 chief engineer Ulrich Pohl and his team produced the comfortable Maicoletta, a much more substantial scooter than the smaller 125cc Italian models from Vespa and Lambretta. Fitted with a 247cc motor, the Maicoletta would cruise comfortably at 70mph all day long, an important
attribute for autobahn use, even if it had been primarily designed as a city runaround. It stayed in production until 1966.
Despite a record sales year in 1954, with over 20,000 units sold, the Maisch brothers nonetheless detected the first signs of the collapse in the hitherto booming powered two-wheeler market which would shortly come as affluence returned to post-war West Germany, and people began buying small cars instead of motorcycles. Maico thus decided to enter the automotive sector by purchasing the Champion company, whose stylish four-seater 400cc minicar was given a larger 500cc Heinkel four-stroke engine in 1956, and renamed the Maico 500. Sales were good, and the company initially had trouble keeping up with demand, but by mid1957 the Maico 500 had many competitors, and with Heinkel unable, or unwilling, to provide further engines, and the Maico factory not having the space or resources to invest in its own, with almost 4000 examples built the decision was made to get out of the car business, and to concentrate on motorcycles.
With West Germany readmitted to international competition in 1950, Maico began to develop a reputation for welldesigned, capable off-road motorcycles, with Ulrich Pohl himself making a lone foray in the 1951 ISDT with a prototype M175 roadster. This exploratory debut led in the 1952 event to two gold medals for Pohl and teammate Hans Danger as part of the German team, with only the poor showing of their NSU Fox-mounted teammates preventing a German win. But four other Maico riders earned gold, too, resulting in Maico defeating 31 other teams to win the International Club Trophy.
In 1953 globetrotting Dutchman Wim Dassel covered 80,000km on a world tour aboard a heavily laden Maico-mobil, and in the same year the M200 motorcycle was introduced, with twin-shock swinging arm rear suspension and an oil-damped tele fork.
At the 1953 ISDT in Czechoslovakia Maico blitzed the medals, with no less than eight golds for riders
on the West German two-strokes, while it also began developing a 250cc off-road MX racer which took Karl Wustenhagen to the 1954 West German Motocross Championship title. The M250 derived from that was a rugged and reliable machine which so impressed the German Armed Forces that in 1959 Maico received a government order for no less than 10,000 units.
Its MX products led to Maico entering the US market in 1956, via an unlikely importer – the Whizzer Company in Pontiac, Michigan, builders of the closest thing to a moped ever made in the USA, which nevertheless did a great job of establishing Maico in the American consciousness. By the 1970s Maico was a major force in the US Enduro and Motocross markets as the dirt bike to have if you wanted to win, and it also experienced success in Grand Prix road racing, with Maico-mounted Swedish rider Börje Jansson winning three 125 GP races in 1972-73, after finishing 3rd in the 1971 125cc World Championship.
Faced by ever greater competition from all four Japanese companies, while lacking the financial resources and big-money race support, in 1983 Maico Werke AG entered administration, despite by 1981 exporting 80% of the 8500 motorcycles it built that year, mainly to the USA. In 1986 the firm still owned by the Maisch family went out of business, and while there’ve been many attempts since then to revive it, none has lasted the distance.
Throughout its life Maico was a company which focused on innovation coupled with quality of manufacture, and no other model better represented that than the parallel-twin Taifun (‘Typhoon’) introduced at the giant Frankfurt Motorcycle Show in October 1953. This was the largest such exhibition ever staged at the peak of West German demand for powered 2-wheeler products, with 387 stands spread around eight halls. Available in both 350cc and 400cc capacities – the latter torquier version mainly targeted at sidecar use – the Maico Taifun was acclaimed by many as the star of the Show, a motorcycle built with the elegance of an expensive car, which overshadowed rival models from larger manufacturers. Its aircooled parallel-twin piston-port two-stroke engine measured 61 x 59.5mm in 348cc guise, delivered 19.5bhp at 5100rpm (22.5bhp for the 65mm-bore 395cc version) and was fed 25:1 premix from the 16.6-litre fuel tank by a single 26mm Bing carburettor.
This, with its air cleaner, was completely enclosed within the monocoque frame unit which also acted as an airbox. 65 years on, Ducati’s Desmosedici Motogp engine and its street Panigale spinoff have adopted a similar format, which on the Maico also muffled the usual intake roar that particularly affects two-strokes.
Standard piston clearance was an extremely close 0.0016 inch/ 0.04064mm – very tight for an air-cooled motor – while the generous finning of both the cast iron cylinders and alloy heads kept temperatures down, though the factory recommended a long runningin period of 4000km. The 180° crankshaft ran in four ball bearings lubricated from the gearbox, with high quality seals at each end to provide maximum and consistent crankcase compression. Two ignition coils with separate points supplied the sparks, while the battery was carried in a compartment inside the rightside engine crankcase cover, with a top cover fastened by Allen-head screws. Generator capacity was 60 watts.
The Taifun’s four-speed unit-construction transmission featured duplex chain final drive – all the better for sidecars – which was fully enclosed in a cast aluminium oil-bath housing, which also acted as one half of the dual-sided swinging arm. Primary drive was by helical gears, which although expensive to produce, ran virtually silently. Within the gearbox, a reduction gear helped keep the rear wheel sprocket as small as possible, and since the Taifun’s gearbox sprocket was in-line with the swinging arm pivot, chain tension was constant, a recipe for longer life. Chain adjustment was via a jockey wheel inside the case.
Its horizontally-split engine acted as a fully stressed member of the Taifun’s light but sturdy abbreviated spine frame, with a zinc-covered front malleable iron casting comprising the steering head. This was joined to a single large diameter V-shaped tubular steel forging bolted
to the front of the crankcase and another, larger aluminium casting which embraced the carb. Besides acting as a mount for the rear suspension, this monocoque casting was mated to a deep inverted U-shaped steel pressing comprising the rear bodywork, including the mudguard, tool box and mounting point for the slightly stepped dual seat. The fold-out passenger’s footrests were cleverly incorporated into the aluminium outer engine castings.
In keeping with the Taifun’s innovative overall chassis layout, its front suspension featured an Earles-type fork offering 100mm of wheel travel. Its swinging arm pivoted in Silentbloc bushes on the lower end of the malleable iron casting, operating twin hydraulic shocks mounted on the same casting, which must thus have been very robust. The heavily valanced deep-section front mudguard bolted to the underside of the front chassis casting, while the large alloy hub castings camouflaged the Earles fork so well it looked almost like a conventional set of teles.
The rear suspension was almost as unconventional, with the swinging arm also pivoting in Silentbloc bushes, operating two sets of dual helical coil springs and a single separate hydraulic damper on the right, offering 80mm of rear wheel travel in solo use. When carrying a passenger, the rider could twist the lever sprouting from the bodywork behind his right leg to engage the second spring in each concentric spring assembly, thus effectively stiffening the spring preload to accommodate the extra weight.
Despite the Taifun’s undeniably substantial appearance, with its very-’50s Streamline styling delivering a real presence, dry weight was just 164kg, thanks to extensive use of aluminium. 18-inch wheels, delivering a 1400mm wheelbase, at a time when these were by no means yet commonplace, were fitted front and rear with 3.50-section tyres, with braking provided by Maico’s own full-width 200mm-diameter single leading-shoe drums at either end. Top speed for the 350cc version
was quoted as 130kmh / 80mph, though a 400 Taifun lapped the banked Montlhéry circuit outside Paris at 135kmh / 84mph while on test by a French bike magazine.
Neat touches included a hand-pump affixed to the underside of the rear-hinged seat, which had spacious storage beneath, and a speedometer incorporating a gear selected counter – over 60 years ago! This was cleverly made more readable by having differentcoloured numerals for each gear, so bottom gear was red, neutral white, second gear blue, etc.
After selling well initially from 1954 onwards – Maico’s No.1 best-selling year – just 1500 examples of the Taifun were built before production ended in 1958. The West German motorcycle market was at a low ebb, thanks to local customers deserting them in favour of the small cars which increased affluence made more widely accessible. The Taifun 350 was however exported all over the world, including to the UK, where the unrestored example with matching engine and frame numbers on display in the Sammy Miller Museum was first registered on November 1st, 1957, and now has an apparently genuine 4676 miles on the odometer.
‘We bought it late in 2018 from a gentleman who was reducing his collection of German bikes,’ says Sammy. ‘At that stage I was already planning the museum’s extension, and I wanted to have a German Corner in it, because I’ve always admired the excellent quality and high engineering standards of the bikes they’ve made there down the years, and we have examples of all the most significant models from over a dozen manufacturers up to around 1975. So when I saw the Maico, I couldn’t resist it!
‘From its futuristic styling and leading-link forks, to the cowlings on the front brake, and the engine / gearbox side castings – it’s all quite phenomenal design, and the build quality is very high, too. My colleague Jim Devereux and I had to do very little to recommission it, though having had the wheels out to fit new tyres, I can tell you that you wouldn’t want to be having a puncture on the side of the road on this! Because of the valanced rear mudguard, the rear wheel is very inaccessible.’
Invited by Sammy to take the Maico for a spin around the leafy lanes surrounding the Museum on the edge of the New Forest, I
found after folding out the left-side kickstarter that it sits very high. It’s better to stick the Taifun on the easy-on/off centre stand, and stand beside it while you kick its twostroke motor into life with the aid of the choke lever on the right handlebar. The two separate bars, each clamped into the top fork crown beneath the large knurled steering damper knob, are actually adjustable for rake, though the seat feels quite high relative to the rest of the bike. You feel you’re sitting atop it and reaching down to the bars, with the footrests
positioned quite rearwards, albeit leaving your knees to snuggle tightly into the fuel tank rubbers. The stance was quite comfortable, if a little strange.
Once warm, the Taifun twin starts first time, albeit initially with plumes of blue smoke which soon disappear, leaving it to idle quietly with minimal vibration and a gentle phutphut through the twin chromed exhausts. Compared to contemporary British or Italian norms the Maico’s gearchange is very esoteric. The heel / toe lever is mounted on the left, while neutral is right at the bottom, so you must kick down with your heel to find bottom gear, then second, etc.
Once under way the Maico accelerates quite smartly. Cruising at 60mph is smooth and relaxing, although there’s an audible whine from the reduction gear in the transmission, which you only notice because the rest of the bike is so quiet. Riding it in traffic is very untiring, partly because the Taifun is set so low on the 18-inch wheels that it’s easy to poke out a foot to the floor when you come to a rest, but mainly because the clutch action is so light, making it no hardship to ride in towns. However, under acceleration it’s better not to use the clutch for smoother upwards changes, because if you do you risk letting the revs fall away. If this happens you may then have to slip the clutch again to coax it back on song, since the ratios are quite noticeably spaced out, and there’s not a lot of flywheel effect from the two-stroke motor.
There’s no rev-counter, instead you must just rev it until it feels like it’s starting to run out of breath before an upward shift, then you’ll be in the fat part of the powerband in the next higher gear. Really, this is a bike you soon learn to ride intuitively, though it’s particularly important to really rev it out in third since fourth gear (top) is quite long – presumably for
autobahn use – so if you don’t do that you risk falling off the pipe when you do hit top gear.
With minimal engine braking on a twostroke it’s important that the brakes work well, and the Maico drums’ 40mm wide brake shoes have sufficient swept area to do so, despite having only a single leading-shoe each – though the rear brake of the pair worked better than the front.
Within the limitations of the Mitas H-03 tyres the Taifun handled quite well, though like most Earles-forked bikes there’s not a lot of feedback from the front tyre. It felt stable in fast sweepers, while nimble and adept in tighter turns, with excellent steering lock despite the substantial front mudguard that you half expect will foul the frame – but doesn’t. The front suspension felt quite bouncy, as if whatever damping there is in the twin front shocks wasn’t working very well. I tried adjusting the rear springs’ preload via the handle inside my right leg, but to be honest I couldn’t notice any difference. I obviously needed a portly passenger for a proper test!
I must admit that until Sammy insisted I should take it for a ride, I knew nothing at all about the 350 Taifun. Like most people, I suspect, I thought Maico only made dirt bikes, with a spinoff sideline in single-cylinder road racers. But as I now know that’s quite wrong. The outstanding quality of manufacture of the Taifun, as well as its innovative and imaginative engineering which makes it stand out from any of its contemporaries, can only be compared to another, later, two-stroke sports tourer; the Suzuki GT750J triple I bought new in 1973, and relished for its smooth, effortless performance and good long-distance manners. I suspect that its 1950s customers would have had a similar opinion of the Maico Taifun, as being so unexpectedly luxurious and opulently styled by two-stroke standards.
It has a level of excellence that’s improbably high for a humble stroker, which almost inevitably was reflected in quite a high price – the same money it cost in 1957 Britain would have bought you a 500cc BSA A7 Shooting Star. After riding Sammy Miller’s Maico, though, I know which of those two I’d have preferred to own…
The Sammy Miller Museum in New Milton, Hampshire, UK is crammed full of interesting machines – including one of the biggest collections of exotic racing bikes in the world, and all are runners! These include the V8 Moto Guzzi, AJS Porcupine, Mondial 250 with dustbin fairing, Nortons, Ducatis, Suzukis, Hondas, Velocettes and many more! The Road Bike Hall includes a huge collection of factory prototypes and exotic designs from all over the world, and of course there are plenty of dirtbikes and trials icons, too – over 400 bikes in total.
The Museum is open to visitors daily from 10am every day.
Contact: Sammy Miller Museum, Bashley, New Milton, Hampshire B25 5SZ, U.K.
For further information and details tel. 01425 620777 or 616644 or visit www.sammymiller.co.uk