Nuovo Nuovo Falcone Cafe
Just when you thought all Custom shows were tail-chasing exercises in better-bobberism, Don Cronin delivers a Moto Guzzi Nuovo Falcone updated for the 21st Century. Don's custom shop in Ireland - Medaza - focusses on Italian powerplants for his creations; Ducati, Moto Morini, Moto Guzzi.
While plenty of customizers have messed around with the Moto Guzzi v-twin engine, few have worked around the far more venerable flat-single design with which Guzzi established its name back in 1921, and was the mainstay of their business until the introduction of their transverse 750cc v-twin in 1967, the 'V7' - a hilarious designation from the company which famously built a racing V-8!
Cronin's 'Rondine' ('Swallow' in Italian) just won the top prize at the AMD World Championship of Custom Bike Building in Essen, Germany, which is as good as it gets in the world of modified bikes. A close inspection of the machine reveals H-D V-Rod wheels and swingarm (modified), rim disc brakes, and a very café-inspired look; a Nuovo Falcone hotted up for the present, using the old workhorse engine originally pressed into service as a police and military mule, and never a sports machine. A few people have upgraded their Falcones to café style, but never quite like this! Congratulations to Don Cronin and Michael O'Shea for their build, and their win.
A Visit to Verralls
I don't often get the chance to stop in Verralls in Handcross, just south of London, but it's a venerable place with a great selection of older motorcycles, and a great pleasure to visit. Ian Hatton, who took over the business when Brian Verrall died a few years ago, has been a pal since 1987, when he was a lowly mechanic on Brian's machines (and about 19 years old, while I was a lofty 25). Ian liked my painted-up Velocette jacket, and I purchased an MZ 250 from his father, which I then rode to the Soviet border and back in a great loop around Western and Eastern Europe, a trip of many thousands of miles - all on back roads, with zero mechanical trouble. That's another story, but we've since remained friends, and I've long been a fan of the business. Ian has continued Brian's policy of looking after machines they've sold - if there's a problem, they'll deal with it, usually for free (unless you run the bike without oil). Enjoy this brief tour!
Prouvé, Ennui, and the Problem of Cash
I have a friend in Paris – Yves - with a lovely Jean Prouvé dining table he found cheap at the flea market (les Puces!) years ago, when Prouvé was iconic to connoisseurs, but not especially valuable. That changed; Prouvé is dead, his work is brilliant, and greed-panic is symptomatic of our 21st Century consciousness, so Yves’ dining table is worth well north of a Million, in whatever currency you care to calculate. Yet he still uses that table, every day.
Susan has an unusual old chest (slap your wayward mind!), painted with a strange mashup of 18th Century American folk art collided with 60s Pop Art patterns. The piece is insanely cool, and when it was appraised for insurance recently, it too rung the carnival bell above 7 figures. Susan is no fool, and knew the thing was rare, but she likes it where it sits, holding the guest linens, and has sensibly decided to carry on using a family heirloom, which she’ll pass on to her children. Her attitude is completely at odds with the ‘Roadshow/Pickers’ mindset, the modern game shows where 'Box #3' is your own damn garage. Susan is a responsible steward of the antique in question, just as were the past 15 generations of its owners.
‘Stewardship’ is a word tossed around Christian think-tanks and techno-hippie chat rooms, but rarely mentioned over the oil-stained concrete on which our old motorbikes typically rest. But the term is cropping up at bike shows, in specialist media (Classic Bike Guide, Oily Rag, The Vintagent), and even at auctions, as motorcycle collecting - for many decades the purview of eccentric obsessives – slouches inexorably toward the Mainstream. A very uncomfortable shift for some, especially the Volunteers, who created a network of old bike enthusiasts, and obsessively searched the countryside for motorbikes, hoarding parts and machines beyond the point of rationality, at a time when bikes were worth sod-all.
They may have had larcenous hearts, greedily selling an SS100 for £15 back in 1949, but we laugh at their naivéte, just as our kids will laugh at us in 20 years when that same Brough tops £1M. Let us praise the Volunteers, whether their pants are secured by rope or alligator belts – I’ve met them all, and they share a common heart of gold, at least for motorcycles; they may well dislike You, as competition! While an imperfect lot, they’ve done their best to keep motorcycles out of the scrap-merchant’s destroying clutches, when they were basically worthless.
Rising values, a dearth of really good unrestored machines, and a growing consciousness of the beauty of an ‘Oily Rag’ original finish, have all fertilized the understanding of Stewardship in the bike world. For whatever reason, the Magpies – hoarders of shiny things – still dominate the Automotive collecting world, which has everything to do with the Car’s social function as self-perceived penis enlarger. Strange, given that a passing Ferrari is more likely to elicit sins of covetousness and avarice, but not envy of the owner, in whom we see said member, actual size.
Motorbikes can make us feel superhuman (a necessary illusion perhaps, given their danger), and we feel pride while riding, yet we’re also aware the general population greets us with open indifference, or at worst, complete invisibility. With motorcycles Out as a symbol of social status, what’s left is a cadre of enthusiasts willing – to put it bluntly – to risk life and limb for the sheer pleasure of two-wheeling. That’s a different sort of passion than the standard Collector’s obsessions; those motivations are present too, but it’s a richer mix with bikers, who were generally seen as cranks until the 'Art of the Motorcycle' exhibit at the Guggenheim Museum. That’s probably why we’re far ahead of our four-wheeled brethren in the Stewardship stakes.
The trend at auction houses is clear; we are increasingly demanding machines bearing their original manufacturer’s paint job. A case in point; two identical ca.1910 Pierce single-cylinder motorcycles went for auction in Las Vegas last January, one dans son jus, the other restored, which failed to meet its $42,000 reserve. The heavily patinated Pierce, by contrast, fetched over $110,000. What Susan and Yves and the new 1910 Pierce owner understand is that the real treasure is not from the restorer’s hands, but from the maker’s workshop, unmolested. In this, they are in accord with art and furniture collectors, who are a century or two ahead of us in this game.
The reluctance of some motorcyclists to actually Use their treasures, as our examples above continue to do, is, one hopes, merely a symptom of a sudden rise in prices. We haven’t gained proper ennui at all this money talk, which is horrifically boring. After all, we’re in this game to Ride; if we wanted to throw money around, we’d have become bankers or rappers. But you can’t ride a pile of cash down the road, and a MacEvoy Anzani 8-valve shares the greatest thing with a Honda CB72 – they’re both really fun.
Biker Chic
It just keeps coming back, like Herpes, and now Biker Chic is stronger than ever! Every major fashion house has re-discovered the magnetic sexual pull of the black-clad motorcyclist, and cargo ships from China and Pakistan are foundering under the weight of thousands of cheap leather jackets headed to our shores.
It doesn't matter that the leather is under 1mm thick, as these jackets will never be used 'in anger', not even on a moped, because let's face it, ACTUAL motorcycling is dead as a doornail. Kids today could give a hoot about escaping their schools, parents, or towns using two wheels; they're not interested in Anything but playing with their little screens.
A few oddball youngsters will pick up motorcycling like a foreign language, because they're strange, or their parents ride, but in general, motorcycling has lost its mojo. The skills, fresh air, danger, and freedom granted by riding matters nought, and new bike sales graphs skid downhill like ski slopes.
But the 'Look' of motorcycling is HOT! Who needs to ride when HandM and Zara are selling such cool 'bikerish' leather? When every model is stretched across an old bike, but are never photographed handling a 500lb motorcycle...or are fakey-photographed on a 'moving' bike, while perched on a trailer!
[While this article hews close to the truth, it's really about April Fool's, folks!]
Denis Sire; 'Baron d'Holbach'
Galerie Jean-Marc Thévenet in Paris exhibited (thru Dec.5, 2012) the work of legendary motoring artist Denis Sire, champion of inserting fantastical pinup girls into historical situations. Sire was born in 1953 at Saint Nazaire on the Atlantic coast of France, and studied art in Paris at ‘L’Ecole des Arts Appliqués. His work is most familiar to 1980s readers of Playboy and Heavy Metal magazines, and I've had a copy of his Velocette Thruxton sketch on the wall of my office for decades, admiring his outrageous mix of scantily clad femininity with hot rods, record breakers, fighter planes, and motorcycles. Meeting Sire in person last February at Rétromobile in Paris, I discovered he also possesses a unique sense of style, befitting his outré artistic ouevre.
Roughly translated from the Thévenet Gallery website: 'Denis Sire has since 1980 drawn an idealized geography, whose contours include the Isle of Man, Brooklands, Indianapolis, Goodwood, Berlin, LeMans ... The exhibition presents works by Denis Sire covering the period to 1910s to the 1950s, each drawing creating legends where the artist, genius that he is, plays with context, where each element belongs, as long as Sire is wielding the pencil. A number of drawings are available on vintage paper with texts that are reinterpretations of those moments where art and machines meet historical truth.'
3 Days in Paris: Retromobile 2012
Retromobile's star has faded in the past two years for motorcyclists and vintage car enthusiasts, as the show's management has effectively nixed two-wheel participation in favor of more space for new car manufacturers. The increases in per-square-metre cost (previously, a lower rate applied to bike booths) have begun to squeeze out the smaller autojumble traders who previously made up a healthy proportion of the floor space at the Parc des Expositions, while the show was shortened to 5 days from the previous luxury of 10.
The show still boasts some amazing four-wheeled machinery, although there is now only a single motorcycle-related stand (Motos Antiquas H-D), plus a few scattered bikes at stalwart BMW (who can always be relied upon to share a few factory treasures), and Skoda, who showed a 1919 Slavia made same factory back in the day. A few clubs and businesses also included a bike or two, and Artcurial Auctions had a much-improved selection of two-wheelers on offer...so all was not lost, although the Bernard Salvat-curated bike displays of past years are very much missed.
As always, the biggest benefit for visitors is meeting like-minded people from other countries, and it was great to see Alain de Cadanet, Malcolm Clube, Julian Balme (who laid out the Fisken stand, and covered Salon Privé for The Vintagent in Sep 2011), Conrad Leach, the editors of The Automobile, PrewarCar.com, The Dandy, Café Racers (Fr), Octane, Retro Passion, etc, etc...
For a vintage motorcyclist, you'd need a healthy dose of car-appreciation to justify a trip to Paris for Retromobile, but the Bonhams sale and other moto-spots (see my accompanying posts) in the City of Light make a long weekend worthwhile. And, always and always, the city itself is the premier attraction, whatever the season...one can never get enough of Paris.
Grayson Perry at the British Museum
To the pantheon of gender-bending motorcyclists - the infamous, notorious, or hidden - we must add Grayson Perry, multi-talented artist, transvestite, Turner Prize winner, and dedicated biker. I was lucky to catch Perry's show at the British Museum in London last week, 'Tomb of the Unknown Craftsman', and began smiling the moment I spotted the 'Kenilworth AM1', his custom Harley-Davidson Knucklehead, at the head of the grand curved staircase in the museum's atrium.
The smile never left; Perry's exhibit of selected Museum artifacts beside his sculptures, paintings, and quilts, weaves a thread of humor and unexpected meaning between the old and new artworks, as if all art ever created were, in his words, "the material culture of a bohemian diaspora, a global tribe whose merchants and witch doctors bartered with a wider population by selling artifacts invested with a special quality; the quality of art."
The 'Kenilworth AM1' is Perry's two-wheeled 'popemobile', a performance-art prop created to carry Alan Measles (Perry's 50-year old teddy bear/muse/alter ego/totem) on a pilgrimage to Germany, in a glass-sided reliquary mounted, naturally, on the 'sissy bar' of his custom Harley. The AM1 is built and painted up much like Perry's trademark 'drag' outfits, using highly saturated colors and shapes reminiscent of 'Outsider' art. The elongated pink-and-blue petrol tank is painted either side with 'humility' and 'patience', which Perry notes are the "opposite of rocker lifestyle texts."
With a matched riding suit of bright yellow boots, an outrageous lavender Peter-Pan-collar jumpsuit, and spring-green helmet, Perry's riding ensemble creates a motorcycling image which borrows nothing from anyone or anything...there's simply nobody else on the road with the cojones to wear THAT outfit while riding THAT bike. While custom shops, tattoo parlors, and clothing outlets are busy selling 'individuality', Perry has taken a brave and lonely path, to BE an individual.
"One fact that every transvestite has to come to terms with is that a person dressed up in the clothes of the opposite sex is somehow inherently funny. I feel it has profoundly shaped my own outlook on life. I regard humour as an important and necessary aspect of art." Grayson Perry explores, via humor and an 'innocent' surrogate, a whole range of difficult subjects; religion, violence, sexual politics, poverty, and the encroaching i-vapidity of our gadget-dominated culture.
Perry began as an art-world 'outsider' himself, as a self-described 'transvestite potter' and unlikely candidate for the prestigious Turner Prize; ceramics have rarely been considered worthy of inclusion in major museums, and like motorcycles, are dismissed as 'craft'. While Perry honed his skills as a ceramicist, he explored deliberately provocative imagery with his glazes, and gained a following for the brilliance of this juxtaposition - difficult subject matter with masterful craftsmanship.
Grayson Perry has always been a motorcyclist; "I’ve never owned a car. I love motorbikes. I’ve got a Harley, which is perfect for summer when you want to go slow, pose and enjoy the scenery, and a KTM, which is brilliant for getting from A to B fast when it’s wet and cold and you want to feel safe. In 1989 my wife Philippa bought me a set of motorbike leathers – the first thing I ever had made for me. I designed them to be like the Cerne Abbas giant. I used to wear them to art openings so I could go there on the bike but still feel dressed up.... Motorbikes aren’t manly. Look at mine. If a bloke has to prove his machismo with a motorbike, then he isn’t very macho.”
Motorcycling, masculinity, and a therapeutic exploration of his childhood (Perry's wife Philippa is, incidentally, a psychotherapist) are clues to Perry's art at the British Museum. His father, who left while Perry was very young, was an engineer and masculine amateur wrestler, and a biker. After he left, young Perry's teddy bear - Alan Measles, a gift on his first birthday - became a complex and psychologically loaded fantasy figure, the centerpiece of his play, the hero all his masculine fantasies; undefeated race car driver, fighter pilot, war hero. The tour de force of Perry's new art is the elevation of Measles to the status of a God-in-the-Making, the centerpiece of a new cult, a future Deity to an uncreated religion. The childhood stories of the bear's battles, injuries, and ultimate triumphs, have been transformed into a narrative arc of a fictional Prophet Hero, an immediately sympathetic character (who doesn't love a teddy bear?) imbued with the magical realism of childhood - that combination of keen observation with fantastic invention.
The 'Kenilworth AM1' was sketched out by Perry, and built by 'chopper shop' Battistini's UK (who, curiously, don't claim credit for their work online, but do link to the exhibit in their blog); the project builders were Nigel Green, Anthony Foy, Adam Smith, Alan Smith, Dan Smith, and Tom Fuller. Nice work, gents: bet your other builds aren't in the British Museum!
The relationship of the arts and motorcycling is a keen interest of The Vintagent, and we are ecstatic when motorcycles appear in museums, from the Guggenheim's 'Art of the Motorcycle' exhibit to the occasional, unexpected artwork featuring motorcycles, from Billy Al Bengston to Boris Anrep's tile floor murals in the National Portrait Gallery in London. Follow along on The Vintagent for content you'll find nowhere else!
A Short History of Wankel Motorcycles
The revolutionary rotary engine designed by Dr. Felix Wankel, henceforth known as the Wankel engine, is a design of tremendous promise, and expensive vexation. It seemed the wonder motor of the future in the 1960s, and many automobile manufacturers took a out a license on the design, from General Motors to Rolls Royce, as did many aircraft and
motorcycle manufacturers. The difficulties of making a Wankel engine suitable for a road vehicle are legendary, but can be summed up simply: the gas-sealing tips of the rotors were prone to rapid wear, the engine is very thirsty, and as the rotor tips must be lubricated, it's a 'dirty' engine as measured by emissions, much like a two-stroke. Most manufacturers quickly realized these difficulties with their prototypes, and abandoned the Wankel motor after a few hundred test miles. A few manufacturers doubled down on the idea, developing clever methods of solving the Wankel's inherent problems via high technology (as in the Suzuki RE5) or excellent engineering (Norton and Mazda).
Dr. Felix Wankel (born 1902 in Lahr, Germany) had the vision for his remarkable rotary engine at the age of 17, began working on prototypes 5 years later, and gained his first patent for this remarkable engine in 1929. His work on the motor was slow in the following two decades as he developed rotary-valve applications for piston engines. By 1957, working in conjunction with NSU, he had a fully functional rotary engine prototype, and immediately began licensing the engine, which had many theoretical advantages over a typical piston motor. First to take up this new design was aircraft engine builder Curtiss-Wright, who licensed the design on Oct.21, 1958. Curtiss-Wright has a long and deep motorcycle connection, via founder Glenn Curtiss, but their Wankel engines were mostly used in aircraft. The first motorcycle applications for this promising engine appeared shortly after the first rotary-powered automobiles, the Mazda Cosmo and NSU Spider of 1964. The first motorcycle prototypes appeared earlier, in 1960, which is the start of our survey of this remarkable design.
Motorrad Zschopau (MZ)/ IFA
The first motorcycle application of the Wankel engine emerged from the IFA/MZ factory, from 1960. MZ took out a license from NSU in 1960, to develop Wankel engines as possible replacements for their two-stroke engines in both motorcycles and the 'Trabant' 3-cylinder two-stroke car. Within 3 months, a single-rotor, watercooled engine (using the thermosyphon principle rather than a water pump?) of 175cc, was installed in an IFA chassis (the 'BK 351' of 1959) which formerly housed a flat-twin two-stroke engine. The development team included engineer Anton Lupei, designer Erich Machus, research engineer Roland Schuster, plus machinists Hans Hofer and Walter Ehnert, who deserve credit as the first to build a Wankel motorcycle.
The Wankel motor is neatly mated to the existing IFA gearbox (with shaft drive - similar to the BMW R25 gearbox), and developed 24hp, twice that of the comparable 175cc MZ two-stroke engine. The prototype appears to have been extensively tested, and currently has over 38,000km on the odometer. It lay in obscurity for years, before a 1994 exhibit of MZ history at Neckarsulm brought it back to light.
A second prototype was built in 1965, using a new 175cc air-cooled, single-rotor engine, also producing 25hp, considerably more than the ES250 'Trophy' engine normally installed in this chassis. This engine appears very much based on the Fitchel and Sachs engine, which was well-developed by 1965 and being sold under license worldwide. Despite the success of both MZ engines, inevitable problems with rotor tip seal failure and high engine/exhaust temperatures meant lots of development money would have been required to replace their reliable two-strokes... money which MZ didn't have. Their incredibly successful race program (all two-strokes, designed by the genius engineer Walter Kaaden) was practically created out from the factory scrapheap, with little help from the Socialist functionaries controlling industry in the GDR.
The idea of a simple, robust, and compact rotary engine was very appealing in the early days of Wankel development, but the dream proved unrealistic, as it became clear production machines required terrible complexity for acceptable road use. East German engineers created several prototype engines for the Trabant and Wartburg autos, but none were developed beyond the prototype stage, and the NSU license was allowed to expire in 1969.
Yamaha
Yamaha licensed the Wankel design in 1972 and quickly built a prototype, showing the 'RZ201' at that year's Tokyo Motor Show. With a 660cc twin-rotor water-cooled engine, it gave a respectable 66hp @6,000rpm, and weighed 220kg. While the prototype looks clean and tidy, the lack of heat shielding on the exhaust reveals the Yamaha was nowhere near production-ready, given the searing heat of the Wankel exhaust gases, and subsequent huge, double-skinned, and shielded exhaust systems on production rotaries.
During this period, Yamaha was looking for alternatives to its small-capacity two-strokes, developing large rotary, two-stroke, and four-stroke engines. With 'shades of George Brough' (ie, showing prototypes to 'wow' show-goers), another never-manufactured Yamaha design was shown in 1972, a 4-cylinder two-stroke - the TL750.
Suzuki
One year after Yamaha introduced, but never manufactured, their rotary, Suzuki introduced the RE5 Rotary at the 1973 Tokyo Motor Show. Suzuki licensed the Wankel engine on Nov.24, 1970, and spent 3 years developing their own 497cc single-rotor, water-cooled engine, which pumped out 62hp @ 6500rpm. Styling of the machine was reportedly entrusted to Giorgietto Guigiaro, a celebrated automotive stylist and advocate of the 'wedge' trend in cars, who leaked into the motorcycle world via several projects, notoriously the 1975 Ducati 860GT. Guigiaro's touch extended only to the cylindrical taillamp and special instrument binnacle for the RE5; a cylindrical case with novel sliding cover, meant to echo the futuristic rotary engine... the rest of the machine looked nearly the same as Suzuki's GT750 'Water Buffalo'.
The modest power output of the engine, combined with the 550lb wet weight, meant performance wasn't exciting, with a top speed of 110mph; no better than the two-stroke T500 series it was meant to displace, and far more complex, heavy, and expensive. Unfortunately, the release of the RE5 coincided with the Oil Crisis of '73, and customers suddenly became wary of the rotary's reputation for poor fuel economy. This combined with motorcyclists' typical skepticism of anything too new, meant sales of the RE5 were far lower than required to recoup their investment. With millions at stake in the project, Suzuki were determined to carry on production. Blaming Giugiaro's binnacle, in 1975 the styling was more conventional, but sales didn't improve, and by 1976 Suzuki had swallowed their losses, and shut production. Around 6,300 were built.
Hercules / DKW
Fitchel and Sachs were the second licensee of the Wankel engine, on Dec 29, 1960, and the first with a motorcycle connection, with 'Sachs' the largest European maker of two-stroke engines. Sachs built their rotary as a small, light accessory motor for applications as diverse as lawnmowers, chainsaws, and personal watercraft.
The first two-wheeled mass-production of the Wankel engine was the 'Hercules' W-2000 of 1974, with a 294cc/20hp (later 32hp) air-cooled engine, with a single-rotor, which had previously been used in a snowmobile. The prototype machine used a BMW R26 gearbox and shaft drive, but production W-2000s used a 5-speed gearbox and chain final drive.
The Hercules was good for 82mph (later 94mph), and was the first production motorcycle using a Wankel motor. The first models used a two-stroke mix in the petrol to lubricate the engine, which was later upgraded to an oil injector; smoky in either case! About 1800 were sold under both Hercules and DKW badges between 1974-76. In 1977 they sold all their production tooling to Norton.
Hercules also built a few off-road Wankel-engined motocrosser, for the ISDT and for their US importer Penton Motors. A few of these showed up in the USA, and vex the experts on MX history, as they're very rare. The crankshaft was mounted nearly vertical, presumably to give a shorter wheelbase and better cooling, and while the engine might look like a two-stroke, a close look reveals the truth about the Hercules MX Wankels.
BSA / Norton
BSA felt, in common with most of the automotive industry, that the Wankel was the engine of the future, and in 1969, hired David Garside, a gifted young engineer, to begin exploration of Wankel engines for a motorcycle. Market research indicated the motorcycling public would accept the Wankel engine on fast sports machines, and Garside's small team began experimenting with a Fitchel and Sachs single-rotor engine, and with significant changes to the intake system, gained a staggering 85% more power, to 32hp. Suddenly the experimental engine looked appealing.
Economic catastrophe at BSA meant development was immediately stalled. 1973 was the end of BSA, as the British gov't formed NVT - Norton-Villiers-Triumph...BSA was dropped from the title, even though it had owned Triumph since 1951! Still, under Dennis Poore's thoughtful leadership, the rotary project continued, and it was Norton who licensed the Wankel design on July 25, 1972.
David Garside and his team began physical research with the installation of a Sachs fan-cooled single-rotor motor in a BSA 'Starfire' chassis; this was the first of a long line which led to the famous Norton rotaries. The 294cc engine gave 32hp at 5500rpm, and evidenced significant problems with heat - with twice the combustion events per revolution compared with a piston engine, and a physically much smaller engine unit, heat is a significant issue with Wankels. Sachs dealt with heat by routing the incoming air through the rotor itself, but this heated up the incoming mix, which reduces power. Garside redesigned the intake route, so that it still cooled the rotor, but then passed into a plenum chamber to cool off again. Air passing through the engine entered the plenum at 100ºC, but was cooled to 50º by the chamber and atomized petrol.
In this work, Garside was helped by Bert Hopwood, retired BSA and Triumph designer (a protogé of Edward Turner, and author of the excellent 'Whatever Happened to the British Motorcycle Industry'), and the pair added a second rotor to the Sachs engine (giving 588cc), with many times the original finning area, plus that redesigned intake. The engine was installed in several chassis over the years, from a Triumph 'Bandit' to a Norton Commando, but eventually an entirely new chassis was developed, as the engine showed considerable promise during development.
The first twin-rotor engine was installed in a Triumph 'Bandit' chassis in 1973, which was never shown to the public. With nearly 70hp, about twice the 'spec' of the original dohc Bandit twin-cylinder piston engine, this prototype must have been a lively ride!
It was clear a new chassis was needed, and later in 1973 the Wankel appeared in a new frame, with a large spine tube which held oil; various iterations can be seen with Norton or Triumph tanks, as the engine was developed, in 1973/4: these were code named the 'P39'.
After the merger of Norton and BSA/Triumph in 1973, another chassis was created for the rotary Norton, with box-section frame tubes - still holding oil - and an integrated airbox; the 1978 'P42'. With a Triumph T140 5-speed gearbox, this wholly new Norton was intended for production, and enough material collected for a first batch of 25 machines, but the project was halted suddenly, even after brochures were printed and journalists (notoriously, Cook Nielsen of Cycle World) invited to test it.
It took until 1984 for Norton to gear up production, but the 'P42' model was never sold to the public; it became the 'Interpol II', a police motorcycle; Norton had a long history of supplying the police, with the original Interpol Commando built from 1970-77. The Interpol II used Norton's well-developed 588cc air-cooled twin-rotor engine gave 85hp, and was in production from 1984-89, with around 350 built.
The first Norton civilian rotary was the 'Classic', built as a limited edition of around 100 machines in 1987, which sold out quickly. It was essentially an Interpol II in civilian garb, with a traditional Norton silver-and-black paint scheme. With all the bodywork removed, the 85hp engine gave sporting and smooth performance, very reliably, having been de-bugged using feedback from police agencies. The engine weight was low, making for easy handling.
As Norton continued to develop their rotary, water-cooling was a natural next step to deal with heat issues, and in 1988, an Interpol II with a radiator was introduced, the 'P52'. The civilian version, essentially a re-painted Interpol, was the p53 'Commander', produced from 1989, with 85hp on tap. Norton hoped to repeat the success of the Classic, but the machine was criticized for using merely adequate Yamaha wheels and suspension, and not the sporting items one might expect of the Norton marque. Around 300 Commanders were built.
Such disappointments were rectified in 1990, when Norton finally lived up to its heritage and introduced the lovely 'F1' ('P55'), based on their RC588 racers, then in the midst of a terrific run of success on the racetrack; in 1989 they won the British F1 championship. Only one color scheme was offered, in race sponsor 'John Player' livery of black and gold. Power was bumped to 95hp@9500rpm, from the water-cooled engine. The F1 had issues with heat buildup, as the bodywork almost sealed the engine unit within plastic, and lost quite a few hp when ridden hard. Around 145 F1s were built. Built with a Spondon aluminum twin-spar frame, White Power upside-down forks, a Yamaha 5-speed gearbox, and stainless exhaust, the F1 sold for an expensive £12,000.
In 1991, Norton rectified the heat issues by introducing the F1 Sport ('P55B'), which was effectively a F1 Replica, using the same bodywork as the racers, with more air flow possible around an open fairing, which resulted, curiously, in a less expensive sportsbike. Some consider the F1 Sport the finest of all the rotary Nortons. 66 were built, before Norton's eternal financial troubles put an end to rotary production...for now.
Van Veen
In 1976, Henk vanVeen, the Dutch Kriedler importer, saw potential in the new rotary Comotor engines, which were compact and developed good power. Comotor was a joint venture of NSU and Citroen, who invested huge sums developing a new Wankel engine for the Citroen GS Birotor. The prototype of this engine had been extensively tested between 1969 and '71 in the Citroen M35, which was never officially sold, but 267 were given to loyal customers for beta-testing. The M35 engine used a single rotor rated at 47hp, whereas the later GS engine had two rotors, and produced 107hp from a 1,000cc. Van Veen saw this powerful and compact engine as the basis of a new superbike, and created the VanVeen OCR 1000.
The OCR was a heavy machine at over 320kg, but had good performance, with a top speed of over 135mph, and could hit 125mph in under 16 seconds. The water-cooled engine was housed in a Moto Guzzi chassis, used a gearbox designed by Porsche, and sold for $15,000, the same price as a Lotus Elite! 38 VanVeen OCRs were built before Comotor went into liquidation, as the GS Birotor was an utter flop, a gas-guzzler appearing exactly during the 1973 oil crisis, and worse, it was more expensive than the venerable Citroen DS, and slower. Citroen even tried to recall and destroy all examples, but a few survive. The VanVeen OCR, on the other hand, has always been a coveted and expensive collector's motorcycle.
Honda
Honda's engineers did investigate the Wankel craze of the mid-1970s, although they never produced or even licensed the Wankel design. Housed in a nearly stock CB125, this test-bed project was clearly intended to see if Honda was missing out on the Next Big Thing. This prototype looks to have been built around 1973, given the paint job and spec of the CB125 'mule'.
The little Honda rotary is an unlicensed experiment, strangely grafted atop a CB125 crankcase, with a single rotor that was air-cooled, although an oil cooler was added to keep the temperature down from the notoriously hot-running Wankel design. The actual engine was connected to the standard Honda crankcases via a chain to the primary drive, while the crankshaft area was simply empty. The single tor chamber had a capacity of 124.7cc and a compression ratio of 8.5:1, giving 13.5hp @ 8000rpm. A 28mm Keihin carb was used, with twin spark plugs and a petroil mix at 100:1.
By the time the Honda A16 was finished, the Suzuki RE5 would have already been in production, and the tepid response to this radical new model was noted. Honda, by waiting out the early Wankel craze, saved itself considerable development and production expense.
Kawasaki
Kawasaki joined the fray later than its Japanese rivals. The 'X99' prototype had a twin-rotor engine, water-cooled, which purportedly developed 85hp. Kawasaki Heavy Industries, Ltd, purchased a license to built Wankels on Oct. 4, 1971; the chassis of the X99 appears to be based on Kawasaki's Z650, introduced in 1976, which suggests the date of this prototype.
VNII-Motoprom
The city of Serpukhov, 100km from Moscow, was one of many 'secret' towns in the Soviet Union, where research into new technology was conducted (plus manufacture of the AK-47), far from prying eyes. VNII-Motoprom was an auto and motorcycle research institute, which created quite a few interesting machines, most notably Soviet racers such as the Vostok-4, and a few Wankel-engined bikes, completely unlicensed. The story of the Soviet motorcycle industry is little known in the West (and the East!), and deserves exploration...
In 1974, the RD501B used the ubiquitous BMW R71-based chassis (from a Dnepr MT-9), with a fan-cooled engine, clearly a copy of the Sachs rotary. With 495cc, it developed 38hp @6300rpm, and used shaft drive. It is claimed two were built.
The RD-660 prototype was built in 1985, using a 660cc air-cooled twin-rotor engine, with chain drive. The engine is very similar to the BSA/Triumph/Norton prototypes built since 1973...a little Cold War industrial espionage not doubt, but methinks the Soviets bit off more than they could chew with the Wankel motor, as none were produced in series, in cars or motorcycles.
The RD-515, RD-517, and Rotor V-500 prototypes of 1987 used a water-cooled twin-rotor engine, driving through a Dnepr gearbox and shaft drive. Power was claimed close to 50hp, with great mid-range torque, and while the prototypes had modern cast-alloy wheels (still with drum brakes), these proved inadequate for Russian roads, and apparently tended to break. This was the last Motoprom Wankel exploration.
IZH
Little-known outside the Eastern Bloc, Izh is the oldest Soviet/Russian motorcycle manufacturer, founded in 1929 in Izhevsk (on the banks of the Izh river) as part of Stalin's enforced industrialization of the agrarian economy, begun in 1927 with the rejection of Lenin's 'New Economic Policy', which allowed producers of grain or goods to sell their surplus at a profit - very similar to China's first moves toward Capitalism in the 1990s. Stalin's successful effort at creating an industrial power, where none existed previously, actually decreased the standard of living, caused widespread famine, and meant imprisonment or death for millions...although it did create an automotive and motorcycle industry. Not that 95% of Soviet citizens could afford it in those early days, although Izh sold something like 11 Million motorcycles before 1990.
One of the last hurrahs for Soviet-era Izh was this Wankel-engined prototype of surprisingly contemporary, if clunky, aesthetics. The 'Rotor Super' was under development at the end of the Soviet era, and shown just after the fall of the Berlin wall in 1989, when the Russian economy was in relative chaos. Suddenly without the state business subsidies and guaranteed incomes of potential customers, all Soviet-era businesses were suddenly faced with the need to make a profit, and rash ventures such as Wankel superbikes were out of the question. Izh is still in business, making inexpensive small-capacity motorcycles.
Crighton Racing
Brian Crighton joined Norton Motors in 1986, as a service engineer working on their Wankel models. He was promoted to their R&D department, and began developing a scrap 588cc air-cooled Norton engine, raising output from 85hp to 120hp. The engine was installed in a prototype racer in 1987, which hit 170mph on tests, and scored a victory on its second outing. Realizing they had a winner, Norton found sponsorship with JPS, and in 1989 Steve Spray won the British F1 and SuperCup championships. Crighton split from the Norton team in 1990, and teamed with Colin Seeley as Crighton Norton Racing, competing against factory GP two-strokes of the era. Their swansong was the British SuperCup Championship in 1994, after which the Wankel engines were banned from competition.
Crighton still believed in the possibility of lightweight, simple, and ultra-powerful Wankel engines for high-performance motorcycle work. In 2006 the 'new' Norton announced the NRV588, Crighton's latest version of the Wankel racer, with 200hp and 300lbs, but the project was abandoned as Norton moved towards producing their vertical twin machines based on the Kenny Dreer prototypes. In 2017, Crighton announced a partnership with Rotron to build the CR700P, a limited-edition version of the NRV588, a 200hp lightning bolt weighing a mere 399lbs (136kg), with 100ft-lbs of torque at 9500rpm, which is a GP-level mix of high performance and ultra light weight. The CR700P was announced as both a street and a road model, although passing Euro4 environmental and safety regulations seems all but impossible for the road for such a machine, barring a significant infusion of capital. Brian Crighton is a true keeper of the flame for the Wankel engine in motorcycles.
'Paradise Lost': Conrad Leach
The exhibition 'Paradise Lost’ is an exploration of the enduring appeal of Speed, Danger, British identity, and a time when men exploring physical boundaries were knighted to the acclaim of millions. This show evolved from conversations between Conrad Leach and Richard Gauntlett, as they discussed their mutual passion for the charismatic imagery and objects from the 20th Century. Not nostalgic, but a response to fascinating people, machines, and events from the near past, whose character transcends the period, and remains equally compelling today.
Leach explains, ‘So much is evocative from the interwar era! The Supermarine Schneider Trophy racer, Malcolm Campbell’s Bluebird, the Brough Superior ‘Works Scrapper’, are nearly forgotten today, but the aesthetics of the era are so pure and functional. This was pretty radical stuff back then, but my work has to be relevant now, as I’m not interested in recreating the past. My painting technique is contemporary, even Pop, and attempts to create resonance between images of the era and a viewer today. To me, an enormous bespoke object like the Bluebird, taken onto Daytona Beach in an attempt to go faster than any human, remains a charismatic and physically relevant object.
‘Paradise Lost’ uses visual language to muse on the era before Health and Safety concerns regulated ambitions and passions. When an entire nation would sit as ghosts on the shoulders of a young man breaking speed records for England, then laud his return, thronging the streets of London by the hundreds of thousands. When it was possible to be a hero for doing something which had never been done, and which might have cost his life.
Conrad Leach was born in Canterbury, Kent, in 1965, and attended the Ravensbourne College of Art and Design. After 15 successful years in the fashion industry, Leach began painting full time in 1997. His first solo show, ‘Players’, at the APART gallery in London, brought him great acclaim, and he was subsequently artist in residence for Louis Vuitton/Celux gallery in Japan for 5 years. In 2005, he painted a portrait series of Norwegian cultural icons for the Grand Hotel in Oslo; his portrait of Henrik Ibsen is now used as visual identity by the Ibsen Museum. In 2008, he showed a series of large-scale motorcycle related paintings for the Legend of the Motorcycle Concours in Half Moon Bay, CA. In 2009, the Gauntlett Gallery became his UK representative, and in 2010, Richard Gauntlett commissioned Leach to design the ‘BS1’, a vintage-inspired custom motorcycle. ‘Paradise Lost’ is his first solo show in London in 9 years.
'Paradise Lost' is on show now through Nov.12, 2011, at the Gauntlett Gallery, 90-92 Pimlico Rd, London +44(0)207 824 8000
The Universal Racing Motorcycle
You need four different motorcycles to road race, motocross, trials, flat-track, and hillclimb...right? There was a time, not so long ago, when it was possible to have just one motorcycle, and race in any event with a chance of success in all of them. Those days have passed in the world of serious competition, but with Vintage events cropping up all over the world, it's still possible to have serious fun - with a chance of winning - in every category, with a single bike.
That's the vision of photographer Dimitri Coste, who is gradually traveling eastward in the US with his Triumph special, competing in events along the way, in his own version of 'Then Came Bronson' (a 70s TV show in which Bronson's HD Sportster magically became a Husqvarna when it touched dirt!). Dimitri has already won first in his class at the Catalina Grand Prix last year, and today, he's in Colorado, competing in the Pike's Peak International Hillclimb.
The organizers of Pike's Peak made a special exemption for Dimitri to ride, not because of his bike, but apparently the Vintage class refers to the riders! As he is under 50 years old, it took a bit of string-pulling to get an entry, but he's already there, and had practice blasting up to the 14,110' peak, which is still covered in snow.
The first Pike's Peak Hillclimb was a bid for publicity, after the first highway to the top opened in August 1916; a race was staged for cars and motorcycles over the tortuous, snaking dirt track with dramatic views and vertiginous dropoffs in many areas - the race is not for the faint of heart. The road is 12.42 miles long, partially paved (at the bottom), with graded gravel and dirt towards the top, and the weather can change dramatically from the 9400' start, over the 156 turns and 4700' climb.
Dimitri's gear is worth noting; as his brother Jérome Coste is the designer of Les Ateliers Ruby, most of his riding gear is a Ruby prototype; they will shortly launch a line of leather jackets, and 'I spy' a Ruby badge on that full-face helmet...something they will release next year.
Ralph Lauren at the Louvre
When does an object cease to be 'mine', and become the property of History? The question has ignited a virtual bonfire, over which arrows are slung between detractors of Ralph Lauren's deliberate tweaking of his stunning auto collection, and those who feel RL has the right to do as he pleases with his property. The occasion for such debate is the 'L'Art de L'Auto Mobile' exhibit at the Musée des Arts Décoratifs in Paris, in the western wing of the Louvre, better known as the home of design brilliance manifested as jewelry, furniture, fashion, interior design, and objets d'art.
With heavy-hitting media hype befitting the display of a significant automotive collection in a major museum, the news has been mixed about Ralph's idiosyncratic handling of his amazing cars. Unabashedly prone to altering the original color schemes of his Ferraris, Bugattis, and Bentleys, Mr Lauren feels he can do one better than the factory colorists and fabric designers, and paints his cars to his preference; his Ferrari red being a little less orangey than Maranello thought proper, the Alfa 8C a little more burgundy-red, the Bugatti black warmed up with a little brown in the mix. Fabric or hides are of higher quality than the originals, everything non-mechanical on these machines being, well, an Upgrade, darling, not from Coach to First, but for the man who travels in his own damn jet, thank you very much.
Purists are crying 'Murder! Sacrilege!', but in truth, the customization of RL's cars is a natural outgrowth of PebbleBeachism, the tendency to labor over the 'restoration' of a car or motorcycle to far beyond their original specification, in the relentless competition for tin pots at Concours d'Elegance, and the perfect mirror of ego and well-tanned hides between owner and machine. In the broad scheme of history, the demands of the rich to individualize their automobiles started when they were new, with special orders to Bugatti or Bentley or Ferrari for that little something extra, with price no object. Now that the RL's cars have become Historic, the battle has begun between the Curators and the Collectors for control of that history.
But at what point does Utility end, and History begin? When is a car or motorcycle magically transformed from a beautiful vehicle into a white-gloves display, the subject of preservation, study, and historic accuracy? This is not an abstract question; at this very moment, the 'Charter of Turin' created by FIVA, (an international historic vehicle association) is being debated for adoption by UNESCO (the international cultural heritage watchdog, creator of 'World Heritage Sites', etc). Thomas Kohler, last seen in The Vintagent as chief judge at the Villa d'Este motorcycle Concours, began the Turin Charter in order to 'separate the wheat from the chaff and make the whole system of historic vehicles more transparent.'
To dive a little deeper into the Charter, and the implications for an international 'code' for vehicle preservation, the following is taken from the FIVA press release:
"Thomas Kohler, the initiator of the Charter, explained: 'You have to understand the amount of lying, past and present, in the historic vehicles community, how often people try to bring fakes into circulation as “veterans”. The practice of converting stately town cars or saloons into racing cars by shortening the chassis is not in line with FIVA rules. Article 4.2 [of the FIVA statutes] “...To support and encourage the restoration, preservation, use and documentation of historic vehicles of all kind...” spells out this objective.’ ... Fakes or vehicles that suffered extensive changes to their engineering and appearance that their historic reference is lost would not stand any chance of being registered as historic vehicles...The purpose of the Charter is to preserve the historic substance of historic vehicles unaltered and ensure through their active use, maintenance, conservation, restoration and repair that future generations can enjoy these cultural treasures....As defined in the Turin Charter; the collective term historic vehicles includes automobiles, motorcycles, utilitarian vehicles, trailers, bicycles und other mechanically operated vehicles... On a diplomatic level, the FIVA hopes to achieve this with reference to the UNESCO Convention on the Means of Prohibiting and Preventing the Illicit Import, Export and Transfer of Ownership of Cultural Property of 14 November 1970, which is enforced by 120 signatory states."
And a relevant passage from the draft Charter: "However, in order to use them, historic vehicles should not be modified more than strictly necessary. Such modifications should interfere as little as possible with the historic substance of the vehicles, they should not alter the vehicle’s appearance and they should be completely reversible."
Thus, Ralph Lauren's modifications to his cars satisfy half of FIVA's criteria, for while they alter the vehicle's appearance, they are reversible with a little re-paint and upholstery work. Unless, of course, as a result of the talented, famous, and powerful Mr Lauren's input, the modified cars are now Historic in their own right, as 'Ralph Lauren-modified cars'. Could not RL be considered a worthy 'coach-builder', much as the esteemed houses of Saoutchik or Ghia or Bertone?
Regular readers of The Vintagent know where this is heading... directly to the workshops of the most talented moto-artisans working today, busily modifying precious MV Agustas, Vincents, and even Brough Superiors into new statements of two-wheeled Art [and if Shinya's and Falcon's incredible re-imagining of 'what is a motorcycle' isn't Art, then I've read Duchamp's urinal all wrong]. The Turin Charter would exclude any significantly modified vehicle from protection as Historic, exposing a deep bias against the $13Billion/year industry called Custom Motorcycles. Of course motorcyclists, being generally inclined toward personal liberty, are far more likely to raise the middle finger than the white flag to FIVA or UNESCO. Still, the most significant protection for 'historic' vehicles under the Turin Charter is the absolute right to use our old cars and motorbikes on public roads, a right which should also extend to choppers, bobbers, café racers, customs, oddballs, and perfectly standard machines...in other words, this is all about Us.
If FIVA is proposing global legislation on Historic vehicles, then certainly, its time to drop the 'grumpy old fart' attitudes, and take a more nuanced view of History, which must include an understanding of the vital, living place of historic vehicles within contemporary Culture. Do we put them in a glass box? Do we risk destroying them with historic racing? Do we prevent them from being modified in the name of History?
2011 Concorso Villa d'Este
The Concorso d'Eleganze di Villa d'Este is well known, and well loved, as perhaps the most elegant automotive celebration anywhere, a rare combination of the perfect landscape (lake Como), the perfect Villa, and a curated selection of 50 truly exceptional vehicles. With entry to Saturday's Concorso strictly limited to entrants and invited guests, seeing the show at the Villa remains a rose-hued dream to millions of car enthusiasts. Put bluntly, this is a private party for elite swells, some regularly in the press, some obscure, all on their best behavior and most beautiful attire at Lago di Como.
Festivities began Friday evening, with a cocktail party on the expansive gravel terrace under a mighty Plane tree, overlooking the lake, the hotel's two wings, the extraordinary 16th-century grotto, and tree-lined grounds which retain their Renaissance layout. The soft music, chatter, and clinking of glasses was interrupted by the sound of a stunning Alfa Romeo 6C 2500 coupé, out of which stepped Karl Baumer, Concorso chief and head of BMW Group Classic. This gesture - to a rival car company - was typical of BMW's generosity and openness in handling the event, as many rivals manufacturers were invited to show their latest prototypes, some of which will battle their host in the press, on race tracks, and in customer's wallets.
BMW have acquired the habit of revealing their latest prototype car at the Villa, and in this 75th anniversary of the legendary 328 series, the latest work of designer Adrian van Hooydonk was inspired by BMW's original sporting, open two-seater. The car did not disappoint, being a tasteful blend of cutting-edge sportscar cues (carbon fiber body, wide stance, mighty engine), with touches of retro luxury (leather bonnet straps, rally-inspired dash clocks). As the crowd gathered, a vintage 328 driven by the BMW museum's Ralf Rodepeter took its place beside the proto, and all eyes turned to his passenger, the outrageous redhead with whom I had flirted, unwitting, a few moments prior; Christina Hendricks of Mad Men. I suppose some things are worth watching on the telly...
The Swells disappeared into the Villa for a grand dinner, while we journos and BMW functionaries were shunted off to eat an incredible Italian meal of 'trained octopus and talking deer' as one wag put it, on a terrace overlooking the mountain-ringed Lake, beneath a glowing canopy of stars. The Villa may be old and grand, but mother nature's cloak trumps any painted finery.
On Saturday, change snuck in like a gatto nero on the grass of Villa Erba, the 'overflow' real estate at which the public can view Este's cars on Sunday, for a small fee, and on which an RM auction was held Saturday night. Concorso sponsor BMW, builders of cars And motorcycles (in rare company with Honda, Suzuki, and Peugeot), did the logical thing, and joined the global trend towards including motorcycles within traditionally automotive Concours, such as Pebble Beach and Salon Privé.
BMW chose a very conservative strategy to introduce the Concorso di Moto this year, with almost no information published in print or web (barring in The Vintagent, last April) mentioning the additional judged show on the grounds of Villa Erba. BMW's quiet approach was perhaps justified, given their adherence to a 'since 1929' history of the Concorso d'Eleganza at Villa d'Este, which has never included motorcycles, and it might have appeared self-serving that a manufacturer of bikes would break tradition to showcase their 'other' product.
They needn't have worried. The display was clean and modern, on a raised wooden hexagonal platform - for the six judged classes - with a clear overarching canopy marking that Here was Something Special. And indeed, the curated selection of 30 motorcycles was very special, and incredibly eclectic, from the humble fiberglass Velocette Vogue to Willhelm Noll's 1955 BMW World Land Speed Record streamlined sidecar. The judged categories relate to the Villa's ethos, a refreshing disregard of chronology and nationality, and a focus on type: Pioneers, Design and Technics, Glamour, Racing and Records, Production Icons, and Prototypes.
The Motorcycle Judging committee included Hugo Wilson of Classic Bike, David Robb (BMW's motorcycle designer), legendary Italian moto-journo Carlo Perelli of Motociclismo d'Epoca, and Thomas Kohler, director of motorcycles for FIVA. Their choice of Best in Show was most interesting, reflecting their support for historic preservation, excellent design, and owners with that special relationship which comes from actually riding the motorcycle in question. The winning 1910 Pierce 4-cylinder was a brave choice, being an obscure make from such an early era, with faded 100-year-old paint, and not a 'wow'-styled machine. The judges chose well and cannily, especially as the Pierce has a big four-wheeled brother, a fact which surely rang a bell for the automotive connoisseurs; an 'aha' moment.
Reaction from the public, car entrants, and the press corps was 100% positive in my ears, with typical quotes including 'a natural fit', 'the mechanical variety is fascinating', 'this is really fantastic', and my favorite, 'it's about time!' All agreed that BMW, whose motorcycle bloodline predates their auto history by 6 years (the Dixi of 1929), was completely justified in adding a second Concorso for two-wheelers. The fortuitous location of the show - in Italy - was emphasized by a local security guard, who explained, 'you Germans have done us Italians a huge favor. We are all of us, men and women, rich and poor, absolutely crazy about motorcycles.' Well, so are the readers of The Vintagent, so it seems we are in agreement; any excuse to bring so many truly exceptional motos together for our viewing pleasure is to be encouraged. Attendance at the 'open to the public' Sunday on the grass of Villa Erba was a record high, and thousands saw the best, rarest, and most beautiful cars and motorbikes ever created, displayed in one of the most beautiful places on earth.
Many thanks to the owners of these fine machines for bringing them to Italy, and sharing them with us. And many, many thanks to BMW for their generosity, gracious hosting of the event, and making possible The Vintagent's participation.
Steam Cycles and History
While we think of History as immutable and as reliably solid as the configuration of hydrogen atoms, the 'truth' of our past is constantly shifting, as our individual or collective attitudes move from established belief sets to new paradigms, in which the interpretation of history, and indeed the very 'facts' of events, are seen in totally a new light, and our historic priorities are re-ordered. [For more on that, try Thomas Kuhn's 'The Structure of Scientific Revolutions]
A paradigm shift in our view of motorcycle history is imminent, as alternatives to the internal combustion engine come to the forefront of technology, grow into general use, and are understood as the logical, even moral alternative to the vast political/economic/military structure hardened around the discovery, ownership, and distribution of fossil fuels. History may well view our current troubles in oil-producing lands the economic equivalent of the Crusades, with oil the motivating 'religion'; it is inconceivable to oil-hungry nations that unfriendly hands control the source... regime change and war are thus justified.
As electric and alternative energy vehicles -including motorcycles- come into general usage, the importance of their historic forbears is greatly magnified, and the first attempts at powered travel are seen in a new light. Thus it is with the Steam Cycle. Dismissed as a vestigial dead-end and thus irrelevant to the history of Motorcycling, the very first powered two-wheelers in history have not been give their proper place in the family tree. Indeed, my copy of the Oxford English Dictionary defines Motorcycle as having 'an internal combustion engine', which is simply ridiculous, given the great strides in electric motorcycling the past few years, and the TTXGP highlighting the viability of sporting battery power. Even Cycle World's esteemed technical writer Kevin Cameron has argued that only the internal combustion engine counts as the true root of modern motorcycling, as "History follows things that succeed, not things that fail" (a debatable claim on History - failure being relative, and often temporary), while LJK Setright preferred to use the term 'heat engines', which includes steam, but excludes electric motoring. Recent and online versions of the OED use 'two wheels and a motor, without pedals' - which excludes most motorcycles of the 1900s-10s, which HAD pedals!
Using a more generous definition of Motorcycle: 'two wheels with a motor', the very first motorcycles (then called Steam Velocipedes) were built, it appears, in 1869 and 1871. Two steam-engine two-wheelers were built totally independently of one another: one in the USA by Sylvester H. Roper, the other in France by Louis-Guillame Perreaux. [3] The two machines were both built around contemporary-pattern 'bone shaker' chassis, although each machine appears to have used a purpose-built frame between the wheels to adapt the engine. The Perreaux used a Michaux bicycle chassis with the engine above the rear wheel, while the Roper used a forged iron frame, with the engine suspended beneath. These are the true forbears of every motorcycle, and each is a remarkable testament not only to the ingenuity of their inventors (these small, portable steam engines were among the very first of their kind), but as well, the impulse, as yet unnamed, to ride a motorcycle. They knew it was going to be good, and they were absolutely right. The thrill of fast downhill gliding on early velocipedes, sans motor, gave a novel thrill to riders then, as shown in this 1860s essay on the joys of bicycling, 'A Two-Wheeled Steed.'
While the 1871 Perreaux appears to be unique as a two-wheeler (he did, in 1884, build a 3-wheel version), Sylvester Roper went on to build another Steam Velocipede, developing and refining the concept, perfecting his portable steam engine, making changes to his chassis. His last design of 1895, was originally commissioned by the Pope Manufacturing Co., and used a modified 'Columbia' safety-bicycle frame, the old 'bone-shaker' bicycle design having been modernized with steel tubes and rubber tires - and wheels of equal size were far safer than the previous Ordinary bicycle. This last Roper Steam Velocipede survives, remarkably, in private hands.
The Perreaux appeared on the floor of the Guggenheim Museum for the seminal 'Art of the Motorcycle' exhibit, and was the first motorcycle confronting viewers as they entered. To the show's 300,000 visitors, this charming little vehicle was complete news. Kudos to the curators for bringing this machine to light, to New York, and to the public consciousness as the First Motorcycle. It's my understanding the Roper was also meant to occupy the entrance, but the Smithsonian wanted a very substantial cash bond ($1M) for the loan of what it rightly considers a priceless artifact of human history... thus the Perreaux stole the floor show, and now occupies a greater part of popular opinion as The First. Such is the whim of chance, altering History...again.
Chanel, Ducati, Revisited
Arch-tastemaker Karl Lagerfeld fully understands the erotic power of old motorcycles, making them essential characters in his short films for Chanel (see the previous film here). At the pinnacle of his long career as a fashion designer and photographer, Lagerfeld frequently uses motorcycle gear - boots, jackets, pants, helmets, and motorcycles themselves - as source material for his edgiest Chanel clothing. His latest film features a buff-colored 1970s Ducati 'square case' 750S, and Keira Knightley. While Ms.Knightley only rides the Ducati while sitting on a trailer, her stunt double certainly looks good in a fawn suede jumpsuit, jumping the Ducati over stairs!
https://youtu.be/aRV-2_Un-kk
The entire color palette for Knightley's jumpsuit, boots, and the Ducati itself, was created to match an off-the-shelf Ruby 'Belvedere' helmet. Jérome Coste, Ruby's designer, has Karl's literal blessing (see below); revolving the art direction for this film around a non-Chanel product is quite a compliment. For a bit more look at the Ducati, the Ruby, and Keira, here's a 'Making Of' video. Interesting that Keira herself doesn't realize the erotic charge of seeing a woman in a catsuit riding a motorcycle, until she sees her stunt double riding the bike, when she is "almost embarrassed"!
1911: Indians Sweep Isle of Man TT
The Hendee Moto-Cycle corporation is over half a century gone, but 100 years ago, they were the largest motorcycle manufacturer in the world (lo, how the mighty do fall...), and originators of many 'firsts' in the business. The first to create a 'works' professional racing team, with the first professional team rider (Jake deRosier), and certainly the first factory racing team sent abroad. In 1910 Oscar Hedstrom (designer of the Indian) sailed to England to supervise the factory effort. An Indian had placed 2nd in the twin-cylinder class in 1909 (Lee Evans aboard), and Hedstrom, mindful of potential export sales, subsidized Billy Wells' London dealership, and racing exploits at Brooklands and the Isle of Man TT.
Success eluded Indian in 1910 as well, as their team was plagued with a batch of rotten innertubes, which spat riders off like watermelon seeds. Two riders were injured in spills, and the rest were exhausted from constantly re-inflating their tires. The best Indian could manage was Jake Alexander's lowly 14th place.
1911 was a different matter. Hedstrom brought his own mechanics (3!) and Jake deRosier on a steamer from New York, determined to have a better result. The ACU had changed the route of the TT to the 'Mountain' course (over Snaefell, a 1400' climb), in an effort to force English manufacturers to adopt gears and clutches. The whole 'point' of the TT was to 'improve the breed', and in this, the ACU showed much foresight...if you want to win races, you had better develop your product line.
Indian was immediately at an advantage, as their machines already had two-speed gears, clutches, and all-chain drive as standard. English makers scrambled to attach epicyclic rear hubs and bolt-on clutches to their belt-drive machines. Only the Scott two-stroke twin had a two-speed chain drive as standard, and this revolutionary little machine was certainly a threat, being very quick and with excellent handling. The capacity limit of the twin-cylinder class had been reduced to 580cc, so Indian sleeved-down a few examples of their 'little twin' for the races.
The result of their efforts could not have been better; Oliver Godfrey rode the first non-English motorcycle to win the TT, and after Charlie Collier (who had been 2nd) was disqualified for an illegal re-fueling, Indians took the top 3 spots - a clean sweep! The delicate Scott twin had taken the fastest lap, but couldn't keep the pace. Jake deRosier's velodrome tactical skills proved little use on the Island's goat-path circuit, and he fell many times. Still, he did very well at paved venues, and in a battle of Titans, beat Matchless' Charlie Collier, England's top racer, in a 2 out of 3 race at Brooklands, just after the TT.
Indian sent factory racers to England until 1923, when Freddie Dixon placed 3rd on a single-cylinder model, and after that, silence. No American-sponsored, American-made racers appeared in Europe for nearly 50 years, until the Trans-Atlantic Match Races began in the early 1970s, which saw the likes of Dick Mann, Cal Rayborn, Dave Aldana, Gene Romero, Don Emde, etc, battling it out on H-Ds against Norton Commandos and Triumph Tridents. A worthy subject for another article!
Building a Norton Four
In the mid 1960s an overhead-camshaft four cylinder motorcycle was the object of fantasy and an ideal of red-blooded motorcyclists everywhere. No fast Fours had been available commercially since 1942, when the last Indian 4 rolled out of Springfield, and only the rare (and ugly) MV Agusta 600 was theoretically available for the street. The MV was prohibitively expensive, and wasn't what riders wanted, which was a roadster version of their all-conquering World Championship racing bikes. Four-cylinder bikes had been around since the first FN Four of 1905, but after WW2, only Nimbus offered a four pot bike, and it was a strictly utilitarian holdover from the 1930s, with exposed rocker gear and a strip-steel frame. Creative motorcyclists responded to this void as they always had - by making their own, lashing together a pair of twin-cylinder engines, or fabricating home-designed 'cammy' fours (from Nougier, Marsh, etc), which cropped up in bike magazines like exotic flowers.
Another route to a 'four' was to stuff a small car engine into a motorcycle frame; that was the route of Friedl Münch, who series produced his 'Mammut' - see our test ride here. The most capacious frame in the 1960s was the Norton Featherbed, which had been in production since 1952, meaning plenty of 'loose' frames were available in salvage yards by the 1960s. A four-cylinder car engine with the right 'spec' was hard to find, as most automotive 'fours' were both water-cooled and made of cast iron - guaranteeing a very heavy motorcycle. A few small engines were of more advanced spec, and the two most likely candidates (in Europe at least) had deep motorcycle connections built into their DNA.
The Hillman 'Imp' had a powerful watercooled engine, designed by the unsung Norton hero Leo Kusmicki, the man who touched the 'Manx' with his magic wand and kept it competitive for 10 years after its 'sell-by' date. Kusmicki worked for the automotive industry after Norton shuttered its race shop, and the overhead-camshaft 'Imp' engine he designed was strong and tunable. Its water cooling dissuaded many solo motorcyclists, although plenty of racing sidecar outfits found the need to carry water a small price to pay, given the cheap power an Imp provided. Who needed the money of Count Agusta when a wrecked Hillman provided a readymade power unit?
Another likely donor came from venerable motorcycle manufacturer NSU. The engine from their 'Prinz' automobile, which served long years as a rally competitor, was tuned over the years to ever sportier iterations, with the '1200 TTS' the ultimate mode. The NSU engine was air-cooled and all-aluminum, with handsome finning, and few awkward casting shapes to spoil its looks. The Prinz engine fit into the Norton frame without cutting metal, although a new bolt-on sump needed to be designed to fit a Norton frame. It looked simple, but the reality of mating the NSU engine with a motorcycle gearbox, plus sorting a primary chain, and clutch, and a functioning oil sump, required skilled fabrication. Everything needed to line up and function smoothly, and only a talented stylist could make the result look like a proper motorcycle.
Mick King, owner of Superformance Motorcycles in Vancouver (one of the first performance/custom bike shops in Western Canada) built an interesting special in the late 1960s, using a Norton Featherbed frame and a salvaged NSU car engine. Mick was kind enough to share his process, in photos, of taking a rustbucket NSU Prinz and a 1967 Norton Atlas chassis, to build a successful hybrid. The photos hint at the measuring, drawing, and fabrication time required to bring the elements together; the magic of a successful job is making it easy! The Italians call this 'Sprezzatura' - making the difficult look effortless; the mark of mastery. Mick's build took long enough that both the Honda 'CB750' and the Norton 'Commando' emerged on the market in the meantime, but as his machine was never meant as a production exercise, the Commando contributed useful bits to his Norton/NSU: the front forks and disc brake, mufflers, seat, and clutch.
"In the 1960s, there were no NSU dealers in Vancouver, and the car owners couldn't get them repaired... I had a motorcycle shop, and would fix a few NSU cars because I had managed an NSU dealership in the UK. They were so simple to work on, it was a good revenue source and sideline to my motorcycle business, which was one of the first on BCs west coast. I took in a trade an NSU 1200 TT car for two hundred bucks; due to rat infestation and rust the car was gutted and the wheels and sundry items sold off. I kept looking at the engine thinking it might look good in one of my Norton Featherbed frames, which owed me nothing... I had a couple gathering dust in the attic!"
"As winter started in, the bike work stopped; I had just brought over an apprentice from the UK, and a new 9-1/2" South Bend lathe for our custom bike division, and decided to see if we could fit the NSU motor into the Norton frame. This gave the new arrival some valuable turning experience. We wanted the engine to fit the existing Norton engine mounts, as I did not want to mess up the frame for the sake of the NSU engine; I had no input or feedback as to how it may perform. When the Münch showed up in Cycle Canada magazine I thought, "Great timing! Maybe I can find some encouragement from the article!" But there was no data -no speed or bhp- as I recollect, the mag people were not allowed to ride it? So we plodded on, and after a few weeks the engine was roughed-in, and we took it for a ride. I could see why there was no data available - it was a gutless wonder, despite major engine work! I considered buying a twin-cam Japanese car engine but they were all snapped up for mini flat track race cars, as they are today!"
"Trying to draw a comparison with the Münch would be a waste of time in my opinion, considering the amount of money he invested, plus his engineering facilities and so on. Nevertheless I think from the get-go the Münch Mammut was doomed, mainly because D.O.H.C. motorcycle engines [such as Kawasaki Z-1] were already making their debut, and strapping an antiquated and gutless S.O.H.C NSU car engine into such an enormous and costly project baffled me and my mechanics from the get go. Then there was the price... ridiculous!"
The two 'big' jobs in translating the engine from car to bike were the sump, which Mick cast in shapely aluminum to fit between the Norton frame rails, and the clutch/transmission interface, which he solved via an extended, demountable coupling between the gearbox and clutch, using a 'simple' steel box attached to the engine plates, which holds an outrigger bearing for the extended clutch shaft. This also meant installing the Norton gearbox backwards! Yes, it works fine both ways, but Mick had to reverse the 'pawl' on the kickstart shaft. The photographs should explain his thinking, which seems sound enough - the clutch no longer runs on the gearbox mainshaft but its own stub shaft, connected to the gearbox via a mated pair of pegged plates, similar to BMW shaft-drive practice. All very clever and relatively simple.
The donor NSU model was the 'Prinz 1000', and had Mick King read the specifications for this model, he might have thought twice about the engine! While an impressive 'spec' the standard Prinz only produced 40hp @ 5500rpm, which is about 10hp less than the Norton Atlas engine which he abandoned to make his 'special'... no wonder then that he was shocked to find his finished hybrid a 'gutless wonder'. If Mick had access to the latest model (1968) NSU TTS, he would have found a 70hp engine, using 10.5:1 compression pistons (not much room for increase there!) and sporting camshaft. But Mick set to work tuning his the motor, and his Norton/NSU was capable of 125mph, so it seems he equaled the NSU factory in hotting up the engine.
The finished machine did well on the 'show bike' circuit in the early 1970s, garnering Mick many 'Best of Show' wins, and that snapshot with the 1973 Penthouse Pet of the Year, Patricia Barrett. Mick's Norton/NSU special now lives in the Trev Deeley Museum in Vancouver, Canada.
Before the Bandit
After legendary Triumph boss Edward Turner retired from his motorcycle factory in 1963, he holed up in a BSA subsidiary, CarBodies Ltd of Coventry, but simply couldn't keep his hand off his original passion, two wheels. Having entered the hallowed pantheon of Motorcycle Greats with his popular, stylish, and sometimes avant-garde machines from the 1920s onwards, he is best remembered as the man who made a parallel-twin engine look like a twin-exhaust-port single cylinder machine (the 500cc Speed Twin of 1938), which fit snugly into the existing 'Tiger 90' single-cylinder chassis. This new combination had magic in name, looks, and performance, and set the tone for the British motorcycle industry for the nearly 50 years.
Edward Turner visited Japan in 1960, and was devastated to see firsthand the technical superiority of both the motorcycles and production methods of the Japanese industry, regardless the bikes built at that time were of small capacity (250cc and under), or clones of larger foreign machines (eg, the Kawasaki 'W1' copy of the BSA A10, and the Rikuo H-D clone). Turner came home to sound the alarm, but was unable to rouse his Board of Directors to make the necessary investment (during their years of greatest profitability, when they conceivably could have invested) to produce a modern motorcycle design in England. Frustrated, Turner chose to retire, unhappy with the direction of the British industry as a whole. Still, he had always done interesting work as a freelancer, having come up with an advanced overhead-camshaft single-cylinder bike in 1925, and penned the foundation for what became the overhead-camshaft Ariel 'Square Four' in 1928 - which got him a job at Ariel under Valentine Page, and his radical design developed into metal by 1930.
From the sidelines in 1967, Turner sketched out a direct challenge to the Honda CB450 'Black Bomber', whose performance nearly equaled his beloved but aging line of 650cc Triumph twins... the Honda rubbing salt in the wound with an electric starter and leak-free, reliable running. Turner poached a few Triumph employees to build up a running prototype of his double-overhead-camshaft, twin-cylinder 350cc bike with a short-stroke, 180degree crankshaft - exactly the spec of the Honda, but with 100cc less capacity. Turner was confident his decades of experience squeezing power from his twins would yield excellent performance from this smaller engine, and so it proved to be. The little bike hit 112mph in tests, about 7mph faster than the Honda. The styling was clearly inspired by the contemporary Ducati Monza, which wasn't the first or last time the English took a leaf from the book of Italian bodywork.
While an advanced machine on paper, with a mechanical disc brake, those cams up top, and excellent performance, the reality was, Turner had designed a hand grenade. The Triumph brass, including new Triumph Chairman Eric Turner (no relation) instructed chief engineer Bert Hopwood to ready the experimental machine for production. Hopwood, performing an autopsy on the little machine after it broke its crankshaft on test, considered the design "fundamentally unsafe", and set about, with Doug Hele, designing a wholly new motorcycle, with enough of the 'ghost' of Turner's idea clearly visible to satisfy the Board.
Hopwood's version of the DOHC twin, called the 'Bandit', had a stronger crankshaft, a chain primary drive instead of expensive gears, a 5-speed gearbox, electric starter, and a frame based on Percy Tait's 500cc grand prix racer, designed by Ken Sprayson of Reynolds Tube. The Bandit was a real winner, with the same performance as Turner's machine, but promised reliability, excellent handling, and truly modern specification. BSA shifted its mighty girth and tooled up for production in 1971, but less than 30 machines were built before the plug was pulled on the whole enterprise, as BSA declared bankruptcy, and the British motorcycle industry began a period of free fall.
Turner's prototype has been restored to running condition by John Woodward, on staff at the National Motorcycle Museum in Birmingham. Many thanks to Mick Duckworth for forwarding these photos and information about the prototype!
Shinya Kimura: 'I Am A Coachbuilder'
In a tradition which predates the internal combustion engine by several hundred years, a 'coachbuilder' was delivered a wheeled chassis without a body, and worked his artistry for the pleasure of a few customers who appreciated, and could afford, a completely bespoke conveyance, or an expression of the particular artistic vision of that builder. When motorized 'coaches' arrived, some of the same carriage builders worked their magic on the chassis of a Cadillac or Rolls Royce, making an already fine automobile just that bit more special.
In an important sense, the coachbuilt auto was an expression of respect for the original design of the car, a paradoxical situation, but the resultant vehicle was never known simply as a 'Saoutchik' or 'Ghia' or 'Fleetwood', it was always a Delahaye with Saoutchik body, or an Alfa Romeo Ghia, or a Cadillac Fleetwood. The coachbuilder seemed to find another possibility for a respected design, perhaps one too flamboyant for general consumption, or simply too expensive for all but a very special customer.
That Shinya Kimura prefers to call himself a Coachbuilder rather than a 'customizer' speaks to his profound love of motorcycles and appreciation for production bikes. The breadth of his interests are evident in the variety of makes which pass through his workshop, Chabott Engineering. Excelsior, Ducati, Triumph, Indian, Harley Davidson, Honda, MV Agusta, Kawasaki, Suzuki, have all been 'Shinyized' in his inimitable style.
His working process is accretive and completely hands-on; Shinya makes no drawings, preferring to embrace a bike with distinctive lumps of aluminum, steel, brass, iron. A sculptor of motorcycles. While he has an 'English wheel', the usual tool for hand-forming smooth metal body panels, it's only used "twice a year, as I prefer to use a mallet to shape metal." As a result the tanks, seats, fairings, and beaten parts are clearly handmade, artisanal, with character on the surface - ripples, dings, asymmetries, tiny voids - exactly the sort of 'mistakes' a journeyman panel expert would avoid, but which on Shinya's machines are evidence of the maker's hand; a signature, a fingerprint.
When he was 15, his first motorcycle was a Honda Cub, but it wasn't until his second motorcycle, a Suzuki OR50 two-stroke, that he began making changes, adding a larger tank from a DT1 and smaller seat, plus low handlebars for a café racer look. He wasn't able to move the footpegs; an awkward riding position was the result. He kept making changes over the years to his motorcycles, eventually founding Zero Engineering in Japan, where he customized around 300 Harley Davidsons with a very distinctive look.
Wishing to branch further into his art, and work with other kinds of motorcycles, he moved to Southern California and founded Chabott Engineering, where the shop is minded by his partner, Ayu. He hoped his move "would make me more accessible to people, as it can be difficult to communicate with Japanese businesses from America and Europe. Now about 60% of my customers are American, the rest in Europe and Japan. The client is very important to me, as there would be no bike without them; I don't make bikes for myself."
Shinya interviews those who commission his machines, finding what music they enjoy, what they wear, what they eat, but takes no input regarding the direction of his labor. After finding a donor motorcycle and necessary parts, he may ask a client if the particular marque is an acceptable base for their machine, as happened when a friend offered Shinya an MV Agusta 750 to modify. Would that I could have been on the other end of that phone call - 'I have a four-cylinder MV - can I make you a bike from this?' Mind boggling.
Of his working process, Shinya says, "I don't always know what the bike will look like; I don't imagine the finished design when I begin. I would get bored if I knew what I was going to make. Every time I'm surprised..."