British bike builders The Wardill 4
In a new series looking at British bike builders, an old family photograph has led to a brand new old-style bike being built in Britain – and it’s great!
ALL PROJECTS HAVE their beginnings. In the case of the Wardill 4 it was a small, cardboard Kodak box. Mark Wardill had seen this box as a child and knew it was important to his family, but it was only as an adult that he found it contained a small collection of glass photographic negative plates – and when developed those plates were found to contain a number of photographs of his great-grandfather, Percy Wardill, in the early 1920s; a discovery that uncovered tales of a mysterious motorcycle with the family name on the tank. Research ensued, with ancient and crumbling copies of The Motor Cycle realising some of the scant information about the Wardill. It was enough to encourage Mark, who was at the time more of a custom car petrolhead, to investigate getting the original ‘supercharged’ two-stroke engine built again. “What I wanted to do was make sure that whatever bike I created was, for all intents and purposes, my grandfather’s bike. The same wheelbase, wheels, etc.” Recreating the engine turned out to be a lot trickier than he initially anticipated. “It sounded simple in theory, but it would have cost a fortune. And getting a two-stroke through the emissions regulations was going to be hard,” said Mark. Undeterred, he had a think about whether there was another way to recreate the Wardill. “I decided to look at building a bike with an off-the-shelf modern engine, try to make some for sale, and use the money from those sales to pay to have the original engine made.” Finding a suitable engine wasn’t as easy as you might think. It had to be new and available off the shelf to go into a production bike, for a start. It also needed to use a carburettor to avoid the need for the electronics needed for fuel injection, and it needed to be simple and classic in style. Most big manufacturers won’t sell complete engines off the shelf, but Mark managed to find a source of Suzuki-designed GN250 engines, made for the Pulse Adrenaline trail bike. “I printed out a picture of the bike, 1:1 scale and taped it to a wall in my garage. I then propped the engine up on blocks of wood in front of the picture and stood back and found that the engine would fit,” said Mark. Although the bike has its roots in the 1920s, computer aided design (CAD) takes a big role and a lot of the effort out of producing the prototype. The frame, which uses the engine as a stressed member, was designed on screen, and is manufactured out of T45 aviation strength steel, often used for high strength engineering in equipment to support disabled people. It’s hand formed and TIG welded. Each section is hand cut and placed in forms to exacting standards. These are then brought together to create a bespoke frame around which the motorcycle is assembled.
WARDILL AND THE WARDILL 4
We seek out those brave souls who have decided to take on the modern world with handmade, British motorcycles, years after the industry was said to be finished.
WORDS BY OLI HULME PICS BY GARY CHAPMAN
Designed and built by specialist British bike builder Hollis using precision laser cut steel, the girder forks might look vintage but to comply with the modern regulations the forks had to be both sprung and damped – old style forks would have had a single spring. The compact unit doing the job on the Wardill has adjustable damping. The petrol tank that follows the Wardill of the 1920s was built around a timber former and manufactured from four individual sections of 2mm thick aluminium. These were hand formed using a combination of hand-beating and rolling through an English wheel. It is then hand welded and pressure tested before being sprayed and that lustrous black and gold paint job polished to a mirror finish. Other colours are available on production models. There’s a redesigned vintage seat on an oldfashioned tubular mount similar to that used on a bicycle and this allows the bike to be set up for a rider of any height. The electrical system is as sophisticated as you can get. It uses a digital controller and micro switches. The digital wiring harness uses a small control box on the handlebars, and another control box behind the engine to take over complete control of the bike and ‘talk’ over a fine serial line. The load cables to the bits that need powering are wired from the nearest box. This saves various metres of cable, the load lines to the consumers are shorter and the installation time is drastically reduced when building. On the prototype the switchgear wires go through the handlebars and a slender wiring loom slips under the tank to a compact electrical box at the rear of the engine. The modern regulator/rectifier on the side of the electric box is to be covered in a brass cage.
On the prototype none of the micro switch buttons are labelled and there’s a good reason for this. To pass the MSVA test and get the bike registered, there are rules that have to be followed – and one of the rules is that the typeface of labels on the buttons has to be of a particular size. But in one of those strange bureaucratic anomalies, if there’s no lettering at all, the bike doesn’t need any, so they’ve been left unmarked. A similar challenge came when designing the exhaust system. To get through the regulations the silencer needed to be an original factory fitment. But Mark could use any silencer he wanted, without any official markings beyond a manufacturer’s plate. So, a simple classic style silencer was used with a small brass plate engraved Wardill Motorcycles riveted to the tailpipe. The vast majority of the work putting together the parts that make up the Wardill, from paint to fabrication, has been contracted out to local craftspeople in south Wales with Mark completing the final construction in his own workshop. The large digital speedometer has the Wardill name laser etched into the back cover and written in gold lettering on the face; it was designed and made for Mark by Smiths Instruments in West Wales. The tank was also fabricated in West Wales. The frame is manufactured, and paint applied in a village just a short distance away from Mark’s workshop. The Wardill is the first Welsh road bike to be made since 1958, when the last Bown left nearby Tonypandy. The University of South Wales also had a hand in the project, with its Centre of Excellence in Mobile and Emerging Technologies (CEMET) designing a ground-breaking custom app, which allows potential buyers to configure their own Wardill on a tablet or mobile phone. The university has also created an augmented reality experience that will mean when the bike goes to trade fairs, potential customers can sit on the bike and ride the Wardill4 in virtual reality, complete with engine noises and birdsong simulating a ride along country roads. The most interest in the Wardill has come from the UK and USA so far. Mark’s inspiration when creating the model for the Wardill is borrowed from another British institution, based not far from the Welsh valleys in Malvern. “I want to be the motorcycle equivalent of Morgan Cars,” said Mark. “They are handcrafted and use traditional techniques but also use a lot of modern technology. I want to be like that for bikes.”
A WORK OF EDWARDIAN GENIUS
THE INSPIRATION FOR the modern Wardill stretches back to the Edwardian era. In 1903, Percy Wardill’s brother, Ernest, had opened a garage on Pound Street, Carshalton, with backing from their father Henry. Ernest had started out as a cycle repairer and at the Carshalton garage he dealt with bicycles and cars. In 1923, Percy and Ernest decided they would build their own motorcycle, with an engine designed by Percy.
While most would-be motorcycle makers might have gone a simple route – using a proprietary engine, or something that followed accepted principles –
Percy was one of those remarkable innovators of the early 20th century, and had his own ideas.
He wanted to improve the traditional two-stroke engine using what he described as a supercharger, but not the kind of blower supercharger that became more common, but something similar to the split single, with touches of the sleeve-valve and with a radical difference. The Wardill was a valveless twostroke where the crankcase compression had been eliminated. Two pistons were used; the first, the smaller of the two, being the type used in an ordinary three-port two-stroke engine with a deflector on top. The second piston was an annular design, sitting like a ring doughnut around the smaller piston. This
meant a pumping cylinder was formed around, and concentric with, the working cylinder. This annular piston was mounted on two con rods, one on either side of the central piston and sat in a lower, stepped, cylinder which held the ports. This separate pumping cylinder meant the engine did not rely upon crankcase compression to work. The working piston was fastened to a connecting rod driven from the crankshaft, while the pumping piston was supported by those two rods, each eccentrically mounted from the main shafts on either side of the big-end throw.
The castings for this engine were done in the Great Eastern Railway workshop at Grimsby, and the work was arranged by Percy’s cousin, Bill Spencer, who was the manager at the Great Eastern Hotel in the port.
At the garage in Pound Street, the engine was put into a frame. The resulting arrangement was neat and compact, and the engine performed well under racing conditions. The engine was tested rigorously between 1924 and 1927. The Wardill won several trophies when it competed in a number of public trials, resulting in a lot of press coverage and interest for the invention. The complete machine, on sale in 1927, had a 346cc engine, chain drive and an Albion three-speed gearbox. The first Wardill used a Grigg frame, Grigg being based in nearby Twickenham and Croydon. Grigg was already geared-up to build around 100 bikes a week and used a frame that bore a marked resemblance to the triangulated Cotton frame, for which reason Grigg was nearly sued by Cotton, but went bust before legal action could begin. The later three Wardill models used a frame of Percy’s design instead. In 1927, Percy was set to expand production, and with two potential American backers in the UK, took them to Brooklands to show off the machine. Unfortunately, the Brooklands-employed test rider crashed the bike at speed, the backers got cold feet, and this brought Percy and Ernest’s dreams to an abrupt end. The Wardill Motorcycle Company faded into history, the only evidence of their existence being a handful of magazine articles and those treasured photographic plates; that is until today.
“The castings for this engine were done in the Great Eastern Railway workshop at Grimsby, and the work was arranged by Percy’s cousin, Bill Spencer, who was the manager at the Great Eastern Hotel in the port.”
RIDING A VINTAGE-STYLED FLAT TANKER WITH A MODERN ENGINE
SO, WHAT’S IT like? The answer is that it’s hugely entertaining, with its own challenges and delights. Steering the Wardill prototype was affected by the upside-down handlebars, which give the bike the air of a vintage board tracker and push the rider into forward riding position worthy of a 1960s café racer. Production versions will have their steering custommade to the owner’s requirements.
While the riding position does put a lot of the effort and the riders weight on the wrists and, to a lesser extent, the shoulders, it does mean that you aren’t as affected by the rigid rear frame as you might in a situp-and-beg stance, though in any case the saddle was remarkably comfy.
Mark has a home-brewed saddle in the works based on an original 1920s design, which should be even more forgiving. The lack of rear suspension means the bike is low, which adds to a perception of speed even when you are progressing at relatively low velocities. While at first glance it looks vintage, the use of the Suzuki GN250-derived engine means you don’t have to deal with all the stuff a rider of the 1920s might have had to learn about. There’s no lever throttle, no manual advance mechanism, no hand
oil pump to prime, and no need to take your hand off the bars to change gear. The electrics are taken care of with smart microswitches and a push of the starter button – on the front of the bars and operated by the index finger rather than the thumb, an arrangement that feels so right it makes one wonder why everybody doesn’t do it – brings things to life.
The 250cc ohc engine feels as if it is quite punchy, which is hardly surprising with so little weight to pull along – the Wardill weighs in at about 90 kilos. Although based on an old 1980s engine, its performance is perfectly suited to the 21st century, being smooth and effective, with a gearshift that’s so slick as to be almost imperceptible.
This all adds to the initial strangeness of the ride. You’re piloting something that feels old in every other part of its operation and has got a lot going on in the handling department; and you really need to keep an eye on what’s going on, as riding the Wardill requires your undivided attention.
You need to be watching out for speed bumps, potholes and gravel patches, errant squirrels and horse manure. Mechanically, however, you have nothing to worry about. Now this may or may not be a good thing. If you are a long-standing rider of flat tankers, you might miss all that lever pulling, pump priming and hand changing, which for the experienced vintage rider is part of the fun. But if you aren’t used to such arcane delights then the lack of all this faff makes things a lot easier to cope with.
One thing that does carry over from the 1920s is the way you use the brakes. If you are used to relying on the front brake and dabbing the back only when necessary, you’ll need to give things a rethink on the Wardill. The tiny drum on the front of the Wardill requires you to work the other way round. The Hollis front forks are stiff enough but giving them the job of handling a more powerful modern stopper might have been a challenge for a girder, so a tiny drum was used instead. There’s a decent sized and more than capable bigger drum on the back to take up the slack.
The Wardill is, it is worth remembering, brandnew. There’s no decades-old sloppiness to the feel or crunchiness in the controls and it uses up-to-the-minute materials too, all of which help keep everything taut. You won’t end up covered in 30-weight monograde oil or have to learn about how to make a carbide lamp work, which is just as well as the MSVA regulations require the lights to be on all the time.
With skinny wheels and a frame that is as minimal as you are going to get, don’t expect your knee sliders to make contact with the tarmac, but the stiffness keeps everything pointing in the right direction.
The bar position on the prototype was a challenge but works well enough. With higher bars things would be a little easier to live with and a slightly tighter rake might quicken the steering up a bit. The Wardill is, you will not be surprised to learn, not going to win any drag races or put in a competitive lap time during a track day. It will, though, turn heads. Almost everyone waves at you, as you ride past, and when you park it up, you’ll spend a lot of time explaining to passers-by just what it is and how it works. The first line in any conversation is likely to be “My grandad had one like that….”
The Wardill is, ultimately, deeply unconventional and huge amounts of fun. And if anything, that’s what motorcycling should be all about.