Brough Superior SS100
It’s certainly serious money, but a total laugh to ride…
PEOPLE WANT TO talk to you when you arrive on the Brough Superior SS100. Get used to the what, why, who, where, how fast and how much? But are the smiles on the faces of your inquisitors expressions of joy, or sympathy? Is this a two-wheeled marvel of human ingenuity and artistic expression? Or a £60,000 irrelevance that identifies its owner as no more than a mug? These are the basics; it’s made in France, it’s inspired by the Brough Superior SS100 of the 1920s and ’30s, but is a completely new and modern design. They’re hoping to make around 200 a year, and they’ve already sold over 20 of them in the UK. It’s their own engine, a 997cc dohc liquid-cooled 88° V-twin that is tuned to produce around 100bhp. It’s crisp, and while it’s not especially quick to pick up revs, it does keep spinning. It doesn’t feel like any other bike – it’s less raucous than a Ducati, more sophisticated than a Harley and more visceral than a Japanese V-twin like a V-strom. The clutch action is heavier than some (but is being re-engineered on later versions) but has a smooth action. The gearbox action is sweet. The girder fork design works too, and has the amusing side effect of the headlight and the flyscreen rising and falling with the front wheel. But the combination of the forks, the geometry, and the 18-inch wheels make the steering heavy. It needs pushing to change direction, but the pay-off is solid mid-corner stability. Those front brakes are stupendously powerful. Smaller discs were demanded for aesthetic reasons, so they’ve used a quad disc design by Berringer. The concept is used in aircraft brakes where they need big power from small diameter discs. At speed they’re amazing, but at low speed you need only use one finger. So the technology and the innovations function, but what’s it like to ride? Climb aboard and reach forward to the fat grips on the one-inch diameter stainless ’bars. Fire up the engine using the anachronistic plastic rocker switch on the right hand switchgear cluster that also houses the right indicator button (Harley style, press to indicate, press again to cancel). Listen to the muted burble of the V-twin. Pull in the clutch, the action is reassuringly smooth, and the gearbox engages positively. The riding position is a bit odd, the bike feels tall, long and thin, but it works with the handling. You push yourself back along the seat, grip the tank with your knees, hold onto the fat handle bar grips and ride it like a classic. Tucked in and smooth. It’s ‘only’ got a claimed 100bhp, and it’s not really about outright but our test bike romped up to 95mph pretty briskly. The engine note has a hollow drumming rhythm. It certainly doesn’t rumble like a Harley, or bellow like a Ducati. On a flowing A-road, on a summer day, it makes perfect sense. The Brough has fluid, but stable handling, demon brakes and a good power spread. And the quality of the clutch and gearbox action, the crisp fuelling and fact that it can do a U-turn on a two-lane road make it stand out from most limited production exotica which usually fall down badly in those areas. As it is the only thing that we found worrying was the side-stand. ‘If I was buying a £60,000 bike I’d want to be sure that it wasn’t going to blow over,’ observed Ben. But the riding isn’t the only thing. As an object the Brough is festooned with jewel like details that catch the eye and entertain the brain. The detailing, from the machined from solid handlebar levers with beautifully engineered span adjusters to the handformed alloy tail piece and the titanium subframe that supports it, is an amazing visual feast. The hand-turned indicators, the deep, glossy black finish on the forks and swingarm, the fuel tank all feel like real quality. Only the odd choice of switches, the radiator hoses, the side-stand and the cheap horn are out of place. And it’s been done with a sense of humour. The inspiration might be a 1920s Nottingham built Brough Superior, as ridden by Lawrence of Arabia, but it’s been executed with a light touch. The use of 21st century technology, proper craftsmanship and ingenious design has created a genuinely interesting bike. If you’ve got £60,000 and you want to buy one then I salute you. I took it to see my friend Olly, who rides a Ducati Monster for pleasure and restores Jaguar E-types for a living. After he’d spent ages examining it, he asked how much it cost and then laughed. ‘When I look at how much work there is in that, it actually looks like good value.’
‘When I look at the work involved, it looks like good value’