THREE BRITISH 750s
There’s an argument which suggests that the old British industry built some of its best motorcycles just before it expired. Bikes like the Triumph Trident, the Norton Commando and the T140 Bonneville. Wouldn’t it be awesome to own all three? Rob Roy does exactly that…
There’s an argument which suggests that the old British industry built some of its best motorcycles just before it expired. Bikes like the Triumph Trident, the Norton Commando and the T140 Bonneville. Wouldn’t it be awesome to own all three? Rob Roy does exactly that…
Isuffer from ED. No, not that one, the other one. The English Disease. This has led to a number of Triumphs (Spitfire, TR6, GT6, T140, T150) and some tribulations (Austin Healey 3000, Norton Commandos, Minis) on my way through a life filled with Joe Lucas, Strombergs, SU carbs, cars and bikes. I make no apologies. No quarter asked.
I’m not a mechanic by training. My classics don’t get treated to full restorations. I’m not interested in 100% originality, if indeed there is such a condition. I don’t believe it’s ‘all original’ anyway if the frame has been powder-coated, or Proud Owner used a Mikuni rather than the Amals it came with; improperly placed tank eyebrows, polished to within an inch of holiness, etc, etc. I believe there’s a place for that but it’s hardly ‘original’. I’m also not brand loyal. My first drive was a Suzuki Titan, followed by a Water Buffalo. All the bikes I’ve ridden have left me with pleasant memories and funny stories to tell.
Although English bikes may break with more frequency, their main selling point is that they are easier to repair by the mechanically inept. Here in Canada they have remarkable parts support; Walridge Motors carries everything you can imagine and parts tend to be much less than an equivalent H-D or Honda part, for instance. Mike is also a wonderful source of information. This has encouraged me to have and hold more than one at the same time of my all-time favourite British motorcycles, produced at the cusp of the Japanese invasion.
So let me introduce you to my three English machines; all matching numbers bikes, used by their previous owners and myself. They are patinated examples.
THE BONNIE BIKE
My 1976 Triumph T140 Bonneville was my first midlife bike crisis, purchased in the middle of nowhere – that would be, Regina, Saskatchewan, about 3000 miles from where I live. I was out there to quality-control some civil engineering works. The city representatives were both bike mad. Mike
had been a rocker, had been to the Isle of Man TT, owned Nortons including an SS, all before removing himself and wife to Canada. He’s now in his mid-eighties. I think he still rides. Barry was so mad he allowed me to ride his GSX-R1100. Both are Canadian Vintage Motorcycle Group members; two really kind, bike-mad souls. Barry ‘knew a guy’ who wanted to sell two Triumphs as a package deal. He took the 650, I took the 750.
This Bonneville was my low-budget entry into the bike restoration world. Acquired for the princely sum of $150, I then spent another $120 to ship it to my home as a collection of bits. As I came to learn, it was the ‘horrid, too-high to-rest-your-feeton-the-ground’ OIF version. Nonsense. It handled well and stopped well. It always started first kick. At 5’10” I had no problem getting my feet on the pavement. This bike was described by my local mechanic friend as ‘the fastest Bonneville he had ever ridden.’ Faint praise? Possibly; he was a ‘connoisseur’ of Hardley Rideables.
A pleasant bike. I enjoyed my times on the road, wandering around, picking up pieces that had vibrated loose. The electrical fire under my precious while at speed one day was also a fun-filled adventure. Oh, how I laughed! Because of those fond remembrances, it has remained with me now for over 35 years. I love looking at it as art. My only cosmetic changes were Hyde bars and a black fuel tank, new mufflers, headers, seat cover, Cheng Shin TT100 style tyres and a Boyer Bransden kit. Oh yes, must not forget a complete wiring harness. The rest of the bike remains stock. I had painted the tank in the original colours but black seems to have
become a recurring theme.
Would I buy a new Bonneville? Nope. I am a confirmed Triumph Luddite. New Triumphs come with too much electrickery. No one works on their bike anymore anyway, so this may be a good thing.
GO! COMMANDO
I bought two Norton 750 Commandos and agree with an esteemed editor that this is the World’s Best Motorcycle. The 1973 bike started life as a Hi Rider. When my brother bought it in the mid-1980s, it still had its FRP tank – at that point leak-free – and a silly, gimpy seat. He sold it to me because he wanted a ‘more reliable’ Harley. His Harley cost him about eight times more than he sold the Norton for. Although possibly more reliable, it required significant outlays of cash during anything maintenance-related. $100 oil changes; two quarts plus filter and 10 minutes possibly, at a time when three cars could be done for the same money, and official factory-trained technicians searching for unrequired work. You get the idea. Best laid plans gang aft a-gley...
When we stopped for fuel, everyone came to visit me and ignored the big bad Street Glide whether we were whale-watching in Baie St Paul after a coastal ride from Quebec City or in Florida in February; cruising the streets of Port Dover for Friday the 13th (summer or winter, rain, snow, only on Friday the 13th. More family friendly than Daytona or Sturgis); or on a ‘horn trip’ to the Fort Kente log blockhouse fortress and Prince Edward County TT, on our way past Fort Henry to Gananoque.
At the time it seemed as though everyone owned a Norton in the deep dark recesses of their imagined pasts. People used to ride behind me just to hear the noises. ‘On Nortons we were Kings. The rest were just peasants’, as Mike observed.
My changes to the 1973 machine included the Hyde bars, a stock seat, Roadster tank and Boyer Bransden kit. I changed brake drum backing plates, longer levers, swinging arm bushes, and have done carburettor rebuilds, replaced coils, gaskets, and finally replaced the carbs. I like the Hi Rider ‘small’ headlight, so it remains. I like all the cables. Makes the bike look ‘busy’. Art again.
It was and remains more fun than a bag of snakes for blatting around on. Planning is required before wicking the throttle, to ensure no drum-brake-and-cables feeble stop embarrassments. It’s now been in the family for almost 40 years and was my daily driver for probably 15 years. Great sounds, great handling. Reliable. It also reliably leaks. The automatic chain oiler works on all other parts as well. My garage floor and driveway will not rust, I have been confidently assured. One kick starts were the norm. It was and remains the most addictive thing I’ve ever owned. I still go to the garage to wonder at the glory and beauty of it all.
Work commitments away from home again had me looking for a bike where I could just
push the button and ride off, rather than submit to the Zen-like ritual of Norton start. This search did not however, prevent my acquisition of a second Commando, of 1971 vintage. (See Star Trek Rules of Acquisition for further advice.)
The seller told me over the phone that it ‘might be an S-type’. After a 200 mile drive to see it, it wasn’t. I bought it anyway because, after all, it is the World’s Best Motorcycle. I maintained the ‘S’ conceit because I think it looks stunning in black. It’s a killer trailie / dirt bike – literally. First gear is the only one you need in this part of the world, with all the trees and rocks you can bounce off. Too heavy by half for the trails though. Stock points and it’s still an easy start. Faux Dunstall mufflers give it a nice sound. The seat has extra padding.
Tank linings have been of particular interest to me, especially FRP tanks. I’ve cut my Hi Rider tank apart to observe the whys of lining failures. I’ve used one Caswell kit, and have tried other products used by the petroleum industry. I think I have an understanding now as to why people have reported lining failures. Flow coating requires a different technique from spray painting. Boring technical details such as appropriate degrees of surface roughness, a suitable acid cleaner, appropriate resin, ‘paint tight seal’, reduced viscosities, more material than supplied in a typical kit, multiple applications and how to coat the inaccessible areas, all are part of the drama. So far I’ve done a couple of steel tanks, FRP Roadster tanks and a five-gallon Dunstall tank. (I have the Dunstall tank, seat and complete exhaust. I just need a project bike cheap enough to hang it all onto...)
Glass mat batteries are a waste of time. The
ones I’ve bought ‘new’ are old stock when sold and don’t last long even using a battery maintainer. They are a false economy and not more eco-friendly.
TRIDENT TIMES
I bought my 1971 T150 out in Long Island in five boxes, while I worked in New York. It was tough getting it all into my old Jeep Wrangler even with the rear seat folded down! A long, slow drive back in to ‘the City’ (that would be New York, in local parlance, on the ‘longest parking lot in the world’ aka Interstate 495). 70 miles of stop and little go, on a hotter than Hades Saturday in July. Almost heaven! No AC. The forks and frame hung out the back window for the trip back. I carried the motor into my office, where it puked oil all over the carpet.
I had convinced myself that, even if I had to throw huge money at it and sub out most of the engine build, it would still cost way less than buying a new Triumph, at that time trading for about $10k. And I always wanted a bike with raygun mufflers. And clip-ons. And rear sets. Cat face rear light. Asbestos wrapped headers. Avon Roadriders. Right foot shift and funny shift lever. Bad ass in semi-gloss black. Cut an inch of foam out of the seat – bad idea. And I’d save $$ by using all the original parts! Original colours were purple and white. A lot of scrapes indicated that it had apparently spent some time on its side in North Carolina, where it had first been registered. I had to re-lace a new rear rim. But I had boxes full of new and used parts…
My original design brief required several re-thinks along the way and I’m still unsatisfied with the current condition – but life moves on. Rebuilt motor by a specialist. Travelled 50 miles before it wouldn’t go further. Looked at by another specialist...
The Trident is a great bike to ride, when
I can get it running. Rides like it’s on rails, as it were. I think it may have more to do with the Avon Roadriders, which seem to be a softer compound than the TT100S. A beautiful ride with awesome noises. Rear brake is surprisingly good. Front brake, not so much. Where the Nortons feel exhilarating and slightly edgy, the Trident is more, erm, Japanese: firmly planted with turbine-like acceleration. Not really push-button reliable so far. Because of work commitments and money better spent on other projects, it’s taken over 10 years to get this far.
The initial purchase price was $450 US. So far I have over $7000 invested, and expectations of more to follow. Finance is not my strong suit...
As well as these three 750s, I own a Harley Sportster too. And a Honda CBR125. Both represent a different kind of fun ride. But the new Enfield 650s look the bees’ knees and appear to be more basic in their electronic sophistication. And no one is trying to convince me they’re made in the land of the Union Jack.
Which of my bikes is ‘better’? I can’t say. As noted at the beginning I suffer from ED. They’re all fun in their own way.