Classic Bike Guide

Your guide to: Triumph Speed Twin

- Words by Oli Hulme Photograph­y by Owen Howells

We look at the Grandaddy of all British twins, Triumph’s Speed Twin. A bike that would show everyone how bikes would be for the next 30 years. And guess what – they’re still wonderful to ride

WHAT IS IT?

The first modern British motorcycle.

GOOD POINTS?

The timeless lines, the performanc­e.

BAD POINTS?

The ride is possibly a little firm.

COST?

Project:

“Just needs putting together mate, everything’s there, couple of day’s work.” £3000-plus Oily rag runner:

“It runs fine; I’m just not into polishing.” £5000-£6000 Concours:

“Don’t touch!” A good, restored, sprung preunit Speed Twin will cost you £7000-£8500. Rigid and Sprung Hub models are £12,000-plus.

The Oxford English Dictionary describes symbiosis as “an interactio­n between two different organisms living in close physical associatio­n.” Some motorcycle­s are like that. They feel like living things and become an extension of the rider. And the rider can feel as if they have become a part of the machine, to create a single collective being.

With a lot of 1950s and 1960s British motorcycle­s, the relationsh­ip between the rider and the machine follows a pattern. “Here I am,” say these motorcycle­s, “sit on me, start me, and I will try to take you to your destinatio­n.”

On the Triumph Speed Twin, things don't work like that. The relationsh­ip between the pre-unit Triumph and the rider is symbiotic. “Here I am,” says the Triumph. “Do you want to go and have some fun?” And you quickly become a part of a whole; a single organic beast. Each move of the body in the saddle, each lean into a bend, every tiny noise is part of a shared experience. There's a joyous feeling of life affirmatio­n. If it could, the Speed Twin would wink at you.

It is an undeniably attractive motorcycle, the

Speed Twin – proportion­ally perfect in every way. The Triumph that Pembrokesh­ire Classics have kindly let us have a go on had acquired a single mile to add to the 69,000 already on the clock since a full engine rebuild. As such, it was very much in the runningin phase. Owner Alistair pushed the bike into the sunlight, turned the fuel on, gave the carb a tickle, and applied a firm prod to the kickstart. It started unfussily straight away and quickly settled down to a gentle tickover. ‘It started first kick' is a bit of a cliché when dealing with bikes from this era, and often fails to mention that before that first kick there's a lot of faffing about to do. But with the Speed Twin there was none of that setting the manual/advance retard, finding TDC, pulling on the decompress­or, giving it a long swinging kick kind of nonsense. On the Triumph you just kick it and off you go. It must have been a revelation back in 1957 to climb on your bike and just start it. You can see why the Metropolit­an Police bought so many. You don't want a traffic officer sweating away in his gauntlets and greatcoat trying to

“The relationsh­ip between the pre-unit Triumph and the rider is symbiotic. “Here I am,” says the Triumph. “Do you want to go and have some fun?” And you quickly become a part of a whole; a single organic beast.”

start a recalcitra­nt machine while a miscreant powers their speeding Jaguar over the horizon.

The Speed Twin was a small bike for a 1950s

500, which adds to its charm. This sparseness of constructi­on helps these compact machines look eager and ready for action.

The engine rustled away, the cast iron barrels and head contributi­ng to the lack of engine noise, though this could be down to the superb job done on the engine. I've had mechanical­ly noisier water-cooled Suzukis.

Before engaging first, I took a moment to acquaint myself with the machine. Sitting in the saddle, the Triumph doesn't feel that far away from a modern bike. The right-foot change goes the modern way – one-down-three-up, Triumph-style. A modern rider with no experience of a British classic could get on the Triumph and, apart from a moment to get used to the gear shift, would feel at home straight away.

The Speed Twin's instrument­ation is basic, with the usual Smiths Chronometr­ic speedo, ammeter and on switch, a dip switch and a horn. It even has an ignition key, something less common than you might think. So, with the engine started, just pull in the clutch, engage first and off you go. Unlike some older Triumphs, there was no crunch from the gearbox; rather, it snicked silently into gear. This is, one suspects, down to the recent rebuild. One of the main reasons Triumph gearboxes crunch is the tendency for clutch plates to stick together if the bike is left standing.

There is not a lot going on to distract you from the ride – and the ride is the thing with a Triumph. A short run gave the little Triumph a chance to stretch its legs and wag its tail a bit, but in deference to the recent engine work, the journey was gentle. Getting rough on a first acquaintan­ce is never appropriat­e. The riding position was one of the most comfortabl­e I've come across. The low seat height was a boon to weary bones that have atrophied a little over the winter, and it was a comfortabl­e fit. The Speed Twin has 19-inch wheels front and rear, which makes the low profile quite an achievemen­t. The twin seat on the sprung frame was also used on the sprung hub models; first as an option and later as standard equipment. It was surprising­ly comfy and sloped downwards to give a great riding position. Handlebars are flattish and the footrests are more forward than most, making for a relaxed riding position. For the first time in an age, the combinatio­n of seat height and bar height gave me a low profile that allowed me to turn my head and look behind. I quickly saw why the Speed Twin was popular with tourers and those police officers who were in the saddle all day.

The forks are forks. They go up and down and are primitive but functional. Edward Turner's obsession with low weight gives the Triumph the ability to accelerate at a rate that makes it more than capable of keeping

up with modern traffic, if you must – though let's be honest, who wants to do that? That's not what the experience is all about.

‘Everybody' knows that, apparently, Triumphs from the late 1950s have a reputation for poor or at least unpredicta­ble handling, but it didn't seem to apply here. One wonders if back in the day the reason people complained about the handling was that they were used to solid and ponderous steeds, which is something the Speed Twin definitely isn't. Perhaps inexperien­ced riders on worn-out twins ragging them furiously down a by-pass in the 1960s might have found it a bit skittish, but that's not what a Speed Twin is for today. Down deserted back roads, the Speed Twin chuckled onwards. The brakes were astonishin­g – 1950s stoppers, like Triumph frames, don't have the best reputation. On this bike, with the larger front brake and its air scoop on the front, which was an option normally seen on T100 production racers, the Speed Twin could be quickly brought to a halt. Combine it with a dab on the back brake and the brakes curtailed forward movement in an impressive fashion. Great in the countrysid­e, the brakes would be usable round town, even where the modern rivals for road use are all ABS equipped.

After a ride of charm and distinctio­n, like all good things it had to come to an end, but this was one of those motorcycle­s that the rider was reluctant to return to the shed. Just one more blast, please.

If anyone offers you a ride on a pre-unit Speed Twin, seize the opportunit­y. It's not something you will regret.

THE SPEED TWIN – BREAKING THE MOULD

The Original Triumph Speed Twin of 1937 was what commentato­rs today would call a game changer. Arguably, the Speed Twin was the first modern massproduc­ed British motorcycle. There had been parallel twin engines before it, not least Val Page's Triumph 6/1 sidecar hauler, but never one as stylish as what Edward Turner designed for the new 500.

He came up with a powerplant some claim to have been derived from a Riley car design, which also featured hemispheri­cal cylinder heads, valve timing set at 90º, short rockers and twin camshafts situated fore and aft. With the Speed Twin, Turner created a concept for a motorcycle engine that was to be the backbone of Triumph's production for the following five decades, and looks that have lasted well into the 21st century.

Turner's genius for marketing as well as design saw the creation of a machine that, at a quick glance, looked more like a compact twin-port single than a twin so as not to frighten the traditiona­list buyers, and he designed the original engine to be built on the same production lines as the company's singles, too. His marketing nous allowed him to recognise that to sell more motorcycle­s, his new twin didn't just have to be fast – it needed to look good doing it, even if this was at the expense of handling.

Turner's philosophy was: “Using the minimum amount of metal for the maximum amount of work.” This made his bikes a little more fragile, but also lighter and faster; a trade-off that has been part of motorcycle design ever since. The Speed Twin was also cheap, costing just £5 more than the aging single cylinder Tiger 90.

Stylistica­lly the twin changed as the years passed, as you might expect. The chrome tank panels on the early rigids and sprung hub models gave way to all-over Amaranth Red, a colour selected by Turner's wife, who grew Amaranthus Love Lies Bleeding flowers in their garden. It lost its tank topping instrument panel in the late 1940s, gaining instead the small tank parcel rack, the design of which was popular with some but also put fears of vehicular castration into the heads of some male riders. In

1949 the Speed Twin gained Triumph's signature headlamp nacelle, a large steel pressing that held the instrument­s, horn, and headlamp that became a signature part of the design into the mid-1960s. In the process it lost the oil pressure gauge, which was replaced by a small mushroom-shaped plunger that stuck out of the pressure relief valve.

THE ENGINE

The original Speed Twin engine had a one-piece cast iron cylinder block with a six-stud base flange, later made thicker and changed to eight stud fastenings. The head was a single iron casting. The cranks, one on either side, ran in ball main bearings and were flanged at their inner ends for bolting to the central flywheel. The con rods were made of aluminium alloy. The gear-driven camshafts sat in bronze bushed tunnels at the front and rear of the crankshaft mouth and actuated large radius followers in cast iron guides. Chrome-plated tubes encased the pushrods, operating the rockers in two bolted-on alloy rocker boxes. Oil from the rocker spindles drained into the valve wells, and these in turn were drained by two external pipes connected to the pushrod tubes to help lubricate the tappets and cams.

This all helped the engine turn out 26bhp and the first models could manage 90mph. Or 94mph. Or 100mph, depending on the journalist's imaginatio­n and who had prepared it at the Meriden factory.

The bottom end was so well-designed that Triumph was able to punch the engine out to 649cc without much issue.

In 1953, the Speed Twin engine's electrical arrangemen­t was one of the first fitted to a British motorcycle to reject a generator and magneto in favour of an alternator, battery and coil set-up. The distributo­r was behind the cylinder block in the place where the magneto had been located, with the coil mounted on top of it, which made it hard to get to the contact breakers. The alternator was on the lefthand end of the crankshaft under the primary drive casing rather than being stuck on the front of the engine like the previous dynamo, which required a change in the design of the clutch to accommodat­e a shock absorber. The gearbox was attached to the frame by a bolt through the lower lug on the frame, with an adjuster bolt above the gearbox.

THE CHASSIS

The Speed Twin had been given telescopic forks in 1946. These were designed during the Second World War and gave a more than reasonable six inches-plus of travel. With two-way hydraulic damping, two oil-soaked felt rings kept the stanchions lubricated. The Speed Twin was offered with Triumph's rear sprung hub in 1947, being an attempt to provide rear suspension without changing the original frame.

In 1954 it was sold for the first time with a swinging arm frame, Triumph being a little late to that party. As the bikes got older, some riders felt it had issues and it was criticised for being not terribly stiff. The design featured a new bolted-on rear subframe holding the seat and rear suspension rather than a single chassis. Full-width aluminium brake hubs arrived in 1957. While often derided, Triumph persevered with the bolt-on subframe and the same basic design concept, strengthen­ed and updated over the decades, was used into the early 1970s, ending its life on the Triumph Trident T150.

 ??  ??
 ??  ??
 ??  ??
 ??  ??
 ??  ??
 ??  ??
 ??  ??
 ??  ??
 ??  ??

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from United Kingdom