PROJECT TRIFIELD
After an 18 year layup, the plan was to get the Trifield back on the road in just two months. Here it is – but it hasn’t been easy
Did Rick get the Trifield back on the road in two months...?
My head’s spinning. This month has been hellish – even my insulated workshop is like the Black Hole of Calcutta and just about everything I touched on the Trifield turned into a nightmare. Subconsciously, I must have known it was a much bigger job than it looked – and that’s why I’ve avoided it for so long. Last time I spoke about how easy it would be to get lost in doing cosmetic jobs, when the real priority was getting the bike back on the road. This month I realised it wasn’t so simple; because I thought the bike looked bloody awful it was draining my energy, every problem becoming a miserable grind instead of a healthy challenge.
What’s wrong? Well, the seat was too high, with an ugly gap underneath, and clashes with the line of the tank. Then there’s the BSA oil tank – it’s a good shape for the frame but not at that angle!
OK, I’m talking like an art critic – but art is important in motorcycles. Unlike cars, where smooth bodywork conceals ugly shapes, bike components have to fit together in harmony. Getting that right is what makes a ‘special’ special. Back in the long-hair days, chopper owners would say: ‘I don’t care if you love it or hate it as long as it gets a reaction’ – but in reality probably nobody hated it, it was just badly put together.
It’s my partner Judy’s bike – she was never happy with it either, and it’s not just arty ideas. The oil tank was so close to the tyre that half the mudguard had had to be cut away, allowing road dirt to cake on the tank and electrics, and despite the seat being the height of a minaret it still scrubbed the tyre on full bounce. So, however non-essential, I decided to tackle it.
Firing up the angle grinder, I found that slicing a bit out of the front support tilted the seat attractively to meet the tank while usefully lifting the mudguard further off the tyre. Similar bracket-hacking raised and rotated the oil tank to a neater fit that created space for a better mudguard – I cut down one scrapped in my recent Norvin crash, which was a bit unnerving when I realised the one it replaces came from another Norton I crashed 20 years ago. I’m
hoping the Trifield never needs another mudguard...
Now the bike looked ‘right’ I was keen to crack on - even ordering a new headlamp shell. Sometimes fitting a shiny new part makes all the surrounding bits look worse, but in this case it had a beneficial effect. The original clocks looked OK, but turning the speedo cable slowly sent the needle round to the stop; all the assembly screws had vibrated out, so no wonder. These clocks are cheap (quality, not price) magnetic instruments with a crimped-on bezel, so in theory you can’t get them apart, but I think I’ve fixed it.
Now time was really getting short, with my CB deadline looming. ‘Built not bought’ seems to be the catchphrase of the moment, but frankly I’d love to be able to just buy and fit the bits I need. I can’t even just buy a rev counter cable, I’ll have to shorten one to suit the position of the Triumph drive. Then there’s the exhausts. I’ve replaced the home-made two-into-one pipe with stock Triumph pipes and a pair of reverse-cone meggas – a Far-eastern version of the old 1970s type. Quality seems no worse than the originals, except that they no longer come in different pipe Continues on page 90
‘UNLIKE CARS, MOTORCYCLE COMPONENTS HAVE TO FIT TOGETHER IN HARMONY’
sizes, being supplied instead with reducing sleeves. This and the sliding single-bolt mounting makes solid mounting impossible, so given that wobbly exhausts can damage the port threads I had to make my own mountings. ‘Just’ fitting the silencers took a whole day – and then I had to spend another morning completely revising the rear brake to clear a silencer that hadn’t been there before.
I gained a few hours by reusing the old wire harness; luckily it just needed a few connectors replaced. The front end didn’t need much either, apart from head bearing adjustment, and although the fork gaiters looked awful they’re neoprene originals – far better than rubber, these seem almost everlasting and polished up like new with a bit of WD40. But then, with the end in sight, stupid stuff started happening. I realised I’d given Will the primary drain plug for his Tiger 100, thinking it was a spare. A replacement was only a couple of quid but didn’t fit, so I had to machine one from scratch. Then, setting the tappets, I decided to replace an adjuster but a pushrod slipped out of engagement. Dammit! Then, dangling a bulb through the inspection cap to help fish for it, I stupidly turned the crank... pop! Broken glass is bad for engines, so I had to strip and clean the rockerbox...
But at last I was buckling my helmet and setting off for the first ride. I’m delighted to report that the excessive vibration seems to be cured. Everything seems to work, although there are a few issues as always on a new build – the rev counter drive is leaking and the rearset gear linkage needs adjusting, but overall I’m happy with it. Judy hasn’t ridden it yet, but I think she’ll be pleased. Well, that’s enough for me in this heat! I think I’ll take a wee break next month and tell the story of what I was up to during the lockdown...