Owning a Velocette KTT had been the object of my desire for many years, having read copious stories about them, and occasionally seen genuine examples. Velocette's production racing model has always been relatively expensive (compared to a road-going Velocette), and only 1000 were built between 1929 and 1950, when the last KTT rolled out of Veloce Ltd's Hall Green, Birmingham factory. The evolution of the KTT is a story in itself, as over its 20-year production run, enormous changes were made from the original 1928 MkI model with its rigid frame, 3-speed gearbox, and all-iron engine, to the last MkVIII models of 1938-49, which pioneered the swingarm rear suspension with shock absorber units, although they kept their girder forks to the end, as they simply steered better! The factory kept building 'works' racers for a few more years with telescopic forks, and took the 1949 and 1950 350cc World Championships.
A 1934 Velocette MkIV KTT, as featured in the Sep. 1937 edition of MotorCycling. The MkIV earned many riders their Gold Star at Brooklands: this is a late version with a bronze cylinder head. Note the front and rear number plates: amateur racing (as at the Manx Grand Prix) required the motorcycle to be road registered. It was also possible to order a KTT with full road equipment, including lights and a generator! Several were delivered thus, especially the early versions. [Dennis Quinlan]The MkIV variant was produced from 1933 to early 1935, with an engine numbering sequence of 'KTT 4xx'. The MkIV was distinguished by a new cylinder head (which became bronze mid-way through its production run), new camshaft, bigger carb, new brakes, and a bolt-on lower frame rail from the crankcase to the rear axle that improved handling. While the MkIV was not a world beater, it was fast and handled beautifully, and was a perfect privateer racer. Many riders earned their Gold Stars at Brooklands with them, for 100+mph laps during a race, which was rare for a 350cc machine. They could be tuned to achieve over 105mph running on gasoline, and even more on alcohol, with an open exhaust pipe and high compression piston. I was timed at 105mph on my own KTT MkIV on a public road in 2000.
Paul d'Orléans with 'The Mule', his 1933 Velocette KTT MkIV, which he has ridden on 10 Velocette Summer Rallies, and in the 2012 Motorcycle Cannonball cross-USA rally! [John Jennings]After years of searching, I was offered two KTTs from the estate for Velocette Club stalwart Eddie Arnold; a 1949 MkVIII (KTT929) and a 1933 MKIV, both of which he had restored and raced. By the time I drove from San Francisco to Pasadena to buy the MkIV, the MkVIII had already been sold to a known 'flipper', so I had arranged to buy the MkIV...and the rest of the contents of Eddie's garage, which included a 1948 Velocette GTP two-stroke in original paint condition, a 1950 LE MkI also in original condition, a large pile of mostly MAC 350cc parts, and a pile of genuine KTT parts. The MkIV cost $15,000, and I can't remember what I paid for the rest of the garage, from which the KTT spares proved invaluable. All else was sold along, after I got the GTP and LE running, which was simple. In hindsight, I should have kept them both, but my garage was overfull with cool old bike already. The KTT had been run on 'bean oil', Castrol R, which is proper for racing, but I intended to run the bike on the road, and Castrol R was already scarce in the late 1990s. I sourced a quart of 'conversion fluid', designed to flush out the Castrol R, and the KTT fired easily on the run-and-bump technique - it had no kickstarter as a proper racer. Thus began a 25 years (and counting) relationship with KTT470.
Only a few weeks after reviving KTT470 I rode her on one of the Velocette Club of North America's annual 1000-mile Summer Rallies. I soon discovered the machine was a revelation, weighing only 275lbs but having 35hp, with an instant power delivery that thrust the rider forward in total smoothness, like a very quick magic carpet. The handling was impeccable and totally intuitive, and I could run rings around brand new motorcycles on the twisty roads favored by the Velocette Club. A week in the saddle might sound torturous on a rigid-framed racer, but I thought it ideal, and fell in love with Eddie Arnold's creation. KTT470 gained the nickname 'The Mule' on a Summer Rally (one of the ten it was used on), which I had organized. A map-making slip-up for the rally included a 'shortcut' in far northern California, through the mountains near Red Bluff, just off the legendary Highway 36. Mule Town Road was not really a road at all, more like a trials course, but as I'd laid out the map, I thought it prudent to take the road! Mule Town Road had no signage, and included several confusing branch routes, one of which I mistakenly took, and managed to kill the motor in the soft dirt. Starting a full-race motorcycle with no kickstarter and high compression requires a run-and-bump technique, pushing the machine with the clutch in and hopping on the saddle to gain traction for the rear wheel. Despite the 100deg F air temperature, KTT470 fired up immediately, we got un-lost, and all was well. After the day's ride, John Jennings, who was visiting from Australia, dubbed my machine 'The Little Mule' for its accomplishment - she's tough!
A filthy little beast! And street legal in California, sans lights, horn, and muffler. [Paul d'Orléans]Here The Mule is pictured on a dirt road in Oregon in July 2005, during another 1000-mile Velocette Summer Rally. The map promised the dirt section would only be 8 miles, but it turned out to be 48 miles! The photos show how filthy the bike became, and because the open cambox sheds a bit of oil on the rear of the machine, dirt sticks well! Not many 75-year old motorcycles are ridden out on the dirt, but The Mule does surprisingly well on rough stuff. In 2012, I chose to ride her in the cross-USA Motorcycle Cannonball Endurance Rally, as she'd already done 12,000 miles of road riding, and another 3600miles seemed a piece of cake. That required a total strip-down of the machine, a change of gearbox as Eddie Arnold's choice of a MAC gearbox proved fragile, and a new camshaft. But as Eddie Arnold noted in the article below, MkIV camshafts are rare things, and my replacement did not arrive in time for the Cannonball, so I rooted through Eddie's spare parts stash for a suitable replacement, and installed what looked good. The story of that journey can be found elsewhere: here's the story on how KTT470 came to be.
KTT470, The Mule, at rest in 2006 during the Legend of the Motorcycle Concours ride. The Mule has no stand so leans where it rests. Visible are the drilled front brake anchor, and evidence of a fall on the fuel tank; fast riding on a light rigid machine on bad California roads... [Paul d'Orléans]
History of KTT 470 - 'The Mule'
KTT470 was originally dispatched from the Veloce factory on May 19th, 1933, and is one of 3 KTTs sold originally to the United States, although it was supplied as an engine only, to Mack’s Motorcycles in Everett, Massachusetts. Only five KTTs were sold new in North America between 1928-49, the others being: KTT53 a very early MKI which I owned in the 2000s; KTT102, another MkI sold originally to ‘Oglasud’ in New York (and still in New York today); KTT 454, a MkIV sold to Otto Ling in NY (where now?), and the MkVIII KTT929, which Eddie Arnold owned. As ‘road racing’ was virtually nonexistent in the USA in the 1920s/30s, racing was on dirt tracks, just as it was in Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa - the largest foreign markets for Velocettes. The European customers (Italy, Germany, Austria, Holland, etc) generally raced on paved roads by the late 1920s, although there were plenty of dirt/pavé combos to race on as well. We English speakers share a ‘backwater’ history as dirt racers, a tradeoff to our wide open spaces and low population density, and long may it remain so!
A photograph owned by Rick Haner, and AMCA club member in Chico CA, showed his father racing a Velocette for Mack’s Motorcycles before WW2, which is undoubtedly KTT470. Mack’s was a motorcycle dealer and race sponsor, and KTT 470 was their ‘tool’ in 30:50cu” racing from 1933, installed in a 1928 KSS chassis, which is how it sits today. While the standard MkIV engine is reasonably fast when on alcohol, as allowed on dirt tracks in the ‘30s, its competition would have been Harley-Davidson ‘Peashooters’, converted Indian Princes, or Rudge/JAP speedway racers. The Velo would have been the equal of any of these, at least in the 350cc capacity. Most speedway racing in the US was 500cc, and so the KTT was at a capacity disadvantage. How the KTT did in East Coast racing is something I’m still investigating.
The Mack's Motors International sign from the 1960s. [The Vintagent Archive]By the 1970s, KTT470 sat in poor condition in a collection on the East Coast, but was rescued by Eddie Arnold of Pasadena, who restored it for vintage racing in California. Eddie Arnold had been a development engineer for Mustang Motorcycles, and built several 100mph Mustangs with their Briggs&Stratton sidevalve motors! Eddie Arnold built KTT470 using MkVIII KTT front forks and magnesium wheel hub/brake, while the rest of the chassis is pure KSS, including the rear wheel. It uses a 1928 KSS fuel tank, which is smaller than a MkIV KTT, and the replica KTT oil tank is fabricated from aluminum. It uses 19" wheels front and rear, instead of the 21" front and 20" rear wheels as standard, as it was not possible to find racing tires for the larger wheel sizes in 1981. With a 9:1 compression ratio and 400ccs, the engine produced 35hp, and the bike weighted 275lbs dry. The bike was geared for a top speed of just over 105mph, which it reaches easily.
Mack's Motorcycles, Everett MA
Clarence A. 'Mack' McConney owned Mack's Motorcycles in the 1930s-70s in Everett Massachusetts, a suburb of Boston, which was a Triumph dealership in the 1930s, among other brands. He was an active supporter of racing and racers, and built KTT470 as a racer in 1933 from the engine supplied from Veloce into a 1928 KSS chassis. It's unknown if he was a Velocette dealer at that early date, or whether he had simply followed the news of the KTT's racing successes in Europe, and wanted a hot motor. The racing history of KTT470 under the sponsorship of Mack's Motors is still being researched; apparently Erwin 'Pop' Haner raced the KTT in the 1930s. Mack was member #1 of the East Coast regional AMA district, and sponsored many races and field events over the years. From his June 5, 1996, obituary in Cycle News:
Mack's Motorcycles was established in 1917 in Everett MA, and was a Triumph dealer by the 1930s, as this advert shows. [The Vintagent Archive]C.A. ‘Mack’ McConney, 99, died in Amesbury, MA, on May 23rd, 45 days before his 100th birthday. McConney was an integral part of early New England road racing in the area and was a member of the original committee that first brought the Laconia races to Belknap Park in 1938. McConney participated in the sport of motorcycle racing on many levels including dirt track, race promotion, as well as sponsoring and tuning for racers through his successful Triumph dealership in Everett, MA.
Eddie Arnold with KTT470 at a CAMA (California Antique Motorcycle Association) rally in 1975, just after he had restored it. [The Vintagent Archive]
Eddie Arnold
A founder member of the Velocette Club of North America, Eddie was a passionate collector of Velocettes and other British motorcycles. He finished restoring KTT470 in the mid-1970s, and only when he attempted to race her did he begin the process of improvement that made her into a winner. Here's Eddie's take on that process from the Jan/Feb 1983 edition of Fishtail West, the Velocette Club of North America's magazine:
"A Vintage Racer the Hard Way
I spent six or seven years getting all the parts together for the ‘32 KTT, both in England and here in the US. Parts were not as hard to find in the early 1970s as now. Add to that another year for restoring it between more important things like cutting the grass, painting windows and all the other crap that comes before one can restore a bike in peace and quiet. I was proud of the finished bike and took it to all the rallies and classic shows. I even took it to riding it around the parking lots, making noises like everyone else. Somehow, the parking lots just didn't get it. I wanted to really race it. You know, turn it on and scare the hell out of myself and anyone riding near me. I joined the ARRA racing club in Southern California along with my friends Paul Adams and Richard Ong. Paul, ‘Mr Norton’, was riding a Velocette and so was Richard. The first vintage race was at the ‘Big O’; Ontario Motor Speedway. Big, fast and very smooth with banked turns, that's Ontario. On the first outing I learned that a lot of things would have to be changed if I wanted to be in the running or even finish a race. Six laps on a two-and-a-half-mile track doesn't sound too far, but following a bunch of Gold Stars and watching the nuts and bolts bouncing along the track, I wondered what was happening to my bike? At least there was no one behind me to see my parts falling off! I remember seeing Paul go past in a turn, wide open with both wheels drifting. I could even hear the valves hitting the piston. Flying fighter planes and getting shot off aircraft carriers by steam catapults has definitely affected his mind.
Another shot showing Eddie Arnold's gleaming craftsmanship on KTT470. [Eddie Arnold]Back to the problem at hand. Being in last place did have some advantages; no one was trying to run over me and I could evaluate the bike, but then everyone in last place says that. I noticed things such as at 5500 RPM the engine started to vibrate and at 6000 the handlebars felt like watermelons. The gearbox was all wrong and the horsepower I had in the parking lots just wasn't there on the long straights. Coming off the banking and into a tight right hander the brakes weren't too good, and by the third lap there weren't any at all. By the 5th lap the revs had dropped to 4000. I found out later that half of the exhaust valve hairpin spring had broken. I ended up asking myself why I was trying to race a 50-year old that you can't even get parts for, and why I hadn't stayed a parking lot racer. About all I can say for that first outing is that it sure was fun.
Eddie Arnold flat out on KTT 470 in 1980, during its unbeaten run of victories. [The Vintagent Archive]Fix time: I took the engine down to the flywheels, which seemed like a reasonable place to start, and checked the balance factor. At 65% it was just right for a tractor. I do remember Jack Connors, ‘the provider of the engine’, saying something to the effect that had been used for a dirt track or Speedway engine in the ‘30s. I changed the balance factor to 71% and took a pound or so off the outside of the wheels. The KTT already has a short rod to help in the midrange. I raised the compression ratio using a mark 8 piston. After cutting the inside drop of the head and some off the cylinder to parallel it, the compression ratio is 9.12: 1. A new manifold was made up for the head, and I ported it to take a 1 3/16th” inlet valve and an Amal 10TT9 carb. Cams were the biggest headache. Racing cams for the MkIV are just not available anywhere. The cams that came in the engine were of the 30-60-60-30 variety; tractor cams. Starting with early MkVIII cams and using a Norton Radiack, I cut the intake from the exhaust and relocated the exhaust to 75 - 45 timing, I then cut a new keyway for it. I now had the MkVIII timing but with less overlap. The MkIV rockers have 1/8 inch less cam-side length, giving the effect of ‘ratioed rockers’ which give too much of everything, overstressing the valve springs. I made up new rockers from billet, leaving just a little ratio in them. I used MkVIII hairpin valve springs, setting them at 125 pounds seating pressure. I changed the gearbox to close ratios and laced a 19” front wheel to a MkVIII hub for better stopping power. On the back I used Richard Ong racing brake lining, it won't lock and won't fade either. I won't go into all the changes I made to keep the oil in the engine oil off the rear tire.
Velocette importer from the 1960s, Lou Branch (right) and Ellis Taylor at a CAMA rally in 1975, with KTT470. [The Vintagent Archive]Next race, Willow springs, 1979. Fast uphill, downhill 100mph turns for them that got it. A very unforgiving track; leave it and you get 100 yards of rock of all sizes. If the rocks don't get you, the things that live under them will. When you get older you think about things that way. In practice the bike ran beautifully at 7400rpm with no vibration. Braking was excellent and the gearbox felt just right. In the six-lap race that followed the little ‘33 ran perfectly. Paul still passed me in the turns but I could zap him on the straight. It's easy to win when the bike does all the work. I ran the 1980 season and won all the races entered. For the ‘81 season they changed the rules and let Triumph 3s, Commandos, Hondas and just about anything else compete. So I retired the bike from racing. It's not right to expect a 50-year old machine compete with stuff like that. Besides who needs 100 yards of rock... So the next time you ride your bike around the parking lot and wonder what it would be feel like to race it, give it a try. It's a lot of fun and there's nothing like old bikes and good friends. Racing does improve the breed."
Paul d'Orléans crossing Sonora Pass on a Velocette rally in 1999. [John Jennings]For a Road Test of The Mule, read John Jennings' report after a 250-mile ride on a Velocette Rally.
Paul d'Orléans is the founder of TheVintagent.com. He is an author, photographer, filmmaker, museum curator, event organizer, and public speaker. Check out his Author Page, Instagram, and Facebook.
Ephedra, the buzzy essence of the Ma Huangbush, was a Chinese stimulant for 5 milennia before being chemically isolated in 1881 by Nagai Nagayashi in Japan, while amphetamine, a related synthetic compound, was created the same year in Berlin. Cocaine was rampant in ‘medicines’ of the day, so the new stimulants seemed redundant, and they lay quietly in a drawer for 40 years. The great wave of early 20th Century chemical bounty hunters boosted amphetamine’s fortunes, as drug giants like Boroughs (family of William S.) and Smith, Kline and French (SKF) sidled away from alcohol, heroin, or cocaine-rich Patent concoctions (72% of the drug market in 1910), to more ‘scientific’ remedies. Freelance pharmaceutical researchers (test-tube cowboys) were cut in on industry profits of new ‘cures’, so got busy adding molecules to the skeletons of naturally effective compounds, self-testing for results, and hawking new drugs to the public, with zero oversight.
Ephedrine was first synthesized in 1881 by Nagai Nagayashi in Japan. In 1893 Nagai using ephedrine to synthesize amphetamine. In 1919 a protégé of Nagai - Akira Ogata - synthesized crystal methamphetamine. [Wikipedia]Gordon Alles was amphetamine’s shepherd, spending remarkably focused years tinkering with the adrenaline molecule, injecting himself and keeping dry notes while high on his creations – amphetamine, MDA, and MDMA (yes, he discovered Ecstasy). His 1927 results for amphetamine included ‘dry nasal passages, bronchial relaxation’, reason enough for SKF to manufacture asthma inhalers using ‘Benzedrine’ strips in 1933, which clever folks like Jean Paul Sartre soaked in their coffee, each 160mg strip equaling 32 amphetamine tablets – a serious morning kick. Soon SKF were touting other uses – diet aids, wakey tabs, attention focusers – distributing one million pills/day by 1940 for asthma; the same number for dieting.
Gordon Alles, the man who popularized amphetamines, making them their production the enormous business it remains today. [Wikipedia]The international teeth-gritting before WW2 wasn’t diplomatic, but pharmacological, with rapid dissemination of amphetamines (in the case of Britain and the US) or methedrine tabs (Germany and Japan) to swelling armies for Modern warfare. The Blitzkreig was fuelled by speed-laced ‘choko’ for air and tank crews, but with reports of abuse, paranoia, aggression, friendly fire deaths, and serious errors in judgement (complaints which echo in today’s military), the Germans cut back by 1941, although Hitler received 8 daily shots of meth for three years, until he shot himself. [2.]
Pass the salt, Adolf. Germany passed out methamphetamine as literal candy to fuel the Blitz. [Wikipedia]On testing, no army found an advantage of speed over caffeine in any area save one – morale. 10mg snapped men to attention, made them order-friendly, and more willing to kill; the military had discovered the perfect soldier drug. Controversy raged within Axis and Allied commands, but the mood-altering effects of speed won over its dark side, and ‘amphetamines won the Battle of Britain’. 72 Million pills swirled in the bloodstream of the RAF, and as many as 500 Million pills in the US military. The Japanese were up-front about speed, naming it Senryoku zoko zai (‘drug to inspire the fighting spirits’), and kamikaze pilots were cranked out of their hachimaki’d skulls, before smashing same into battleship steel plating.
'Drug to inspire the fighting spirit': amphetamine was a perfect military tool, until it wasn't. It's still handed out in strips in the US military for missions... [Wikipedia]Postwar Japan surveyed nuclear devastation, then distributed, free, 20 million ampules of meth to crank up an ‘economic miracle’, with thousands of psychotic casualties an acceptable cost. Elsewhere, writers, truckers, pilots, soldiers, bikers - any group needing concentrated attention - had a percentage of hyped-up devotees. Former airmen, above all in SoCal, fought the drudge of citizen life with new thrills - wingless flight, an escape from sprawling suburban boredom on cheap surplus motorcycles; their bike clubs became gangs with militaristic hierarchy, and bikers with leftover military habits loved speed. ‘The Wild One’ missed this chemical plot point in ‘53, but ten years later Kenneth Anger’s ‘Scorpio Rising’ flourished a moto-hero sniffing ‘salt’ from a tabletop shaker as prelude to a Satanic binge…a point echo’d in 1980 when LeVille in Kathryn Bigelow’s ‘The Loveless’ divvies salt on a diner’s formica before white-knuckle plunging his stiletto in a vinyl banquette, as Willem Dafoe warns ‘Go easy on the vitamins’; always good advice.
Advertising amphetamines: diet pills have been big business since the 1930s. [Private Collection]Curiously, the RAF’s pill-mountain didn’t linger with English bikers; they preferred tea. Joan Vollmer (later shot by William Burroughs in Mexico) introduced the Beats to Benzedrine inhalers, and Jack Kerouak hand-filled a 120-foot roll of paper during a week-long wakey binge, the ‘Road’ he was on dusted with amphetamine salts1. The Modernists, children of the Beats, ‘kept sharp’ with ‘purple hearts’, slick Italian tailoring and chic buzzing scooters, ‘into it not out of it’. Mods hated drunken discos and retro (already!) Rockers for beery sloppiness, preferring animated conversation, a fine edge of style, and dancing to the latest soul discs. Meanwhile in Vietnam, US troops popped fistfuls of Dexedrine, 4 times as much as WW2 – with drug hospitalizations four times those for war wounds. As Soviet missiles parked in Cuba, JFK (and Jackie too!) took shots of vita-meth cocktails from ‘Dr.Feelgood’ on the run-up to total nuclear annihilation. Massacres of civilians at My Lai, as in Iraq and Afghanistan today, are sometimes blamed on amphetamine psychosis, but the perfect military drug soldiers on.
Speed is for kids! And if you have college-age children, you know how popular Adderall remains for students without prescriptions... [New York Times]Drug companies found another rich target while raking in military billions during the 1960s; children. Amphetamine compounds like Ritalin and Adderal are now the most prescribed ‘medications’ in the US, curing nothing but keeping kids focused. Scary toothless meth-heads are modern bogeymen, lurking under beds as worst-case parent nightmares, but we love popping candy-colored uppers to our little darlings daily, making speed the biggest blockbuster drug in history.
Bikers and speed: it's a long story. Many suggest it was former airmen returning to civilian life and taking up motorcycling for thrills that permanently imbued biker culture with a taste for speed. There's certainly a story to be told about the rise of organized crime in '1%' clubs after amphetamines were made Schedule 2 drugs in 1970, and thus available only by prescription (to children, mostly). [Telegraph and Argus]Our relationship with the fruits of the Ma Huang tree is deeply complex, so it's fitting the Chinese supply our poetic muse; the syllables ‘am phe ta min’ can be translated as ‘Is this not his fate?’
Pass the salt, Scorpio. A scene from Kenneth Anger's amazing 'Scorpio Rising': Scorpio's powder stash is hiden in a salt shaker. [Kenneth Anger][This essay was originally published in Men's File magazine in 2012.]
Curious on the subject? Here's some essential Reading:
Pass the salt, Davis. 'Sportster Debbie' (novelist Tina L'Hotsky) and Davis (rockabilly legend Robert Gordon) at a diner, gritting their teeth through breakfast in Florida in a scene from 'The Loveless' (1981) by two-time Oscar winner Kathryn Bigelow. [Screen shot from the film]
Paul d'Orléans is the founder of TheVintagent.com. He is an author, photographer, filmmaker, museum curator, event organizer, and public speaker. Check out his Author Page, Instagram, and Facebook.
Cell phones don’t work in rural New Hampshire, which is fine with Walt Siegl after 20 years of living and working in New York City. He’s nearly off the grid, and out of the hubbub where he founded Walt Siegl Motorcycles (WSM), but hardly out of the limelight. His career arc is definitely unique, from art-school dropout in Austria, to part-time endurance racer in France, to toolmaking engineer in Germany, to project manager in the Soviet Union, to Austrian cultural attaché in NYC, finally landing on two wheels as a career, after decades of building bikes for fun. His was a long journey from the center of the world to a quiet 18th Century mill complex, and his life story makes Siegl a fascinating and worldly character, carrying a lifetime of experience into his work designing motorcycles.
Walt Siegl at work at his New Hampshire mill/workshop. [Yve Assad / Cycle World]Growing up in Austria, both his father and grandfather were daily riders on Puchs, Horexes, NSUs, and H-D flatheads. Young Walt absorbed their talk about how bikes looked, and how they made them feel; “When I was 6, a local chimney sweep bought a purple Triumph 500 with polished aluminum fenders. I was completely blown away, it killed me. I would run across a bridge to see the him after school - I knew his schedule.” By 14 he rode a Puch dirt bike, and started art school, but his schoolmates scorned his interest in bikes; “They thought I was not a real artist because I had motorcycles. I couldn’t see a conflict.” But there was conflict at home, as his father, an electronics engineer, pressured him to think about making a living. He left home 6 months before graduating, rode his Honda 550 to Marseille, and took a job loading trains at the port. “I was a skinny longhair artist, my co-workers were North Africans, and my boss was a Legionnaire. It was tough!”
A simple Ducati frame on the workbench, but triangulated frames are most capable of handling serious horsepower. [Yve Assad / Cycle World]There were bright spots in Marseille; he raced time trials on weekends, and caught the eye of a privateer endurance racing team. “I did 18 months of racing with a Swiss guy, on a bus with room for 2 bikes. It was really fun, but we were not very competitive.” A crash in Belgium ended Siegl’s race career, and he took an apprenticeship with a German toolmaker, who taught him everything from how to hold a file to running a milling machine. “That knowledge allows me to do what I do now; there’s nothing I don’t know about machining, how to work a lathe, welding etc.” A job as an industrial welder in Padua, Italy, led to a gig in 1980 with an Austrian firm managing a huge project in the Soviet Union. Siegl was fascinated with the changes happening in the USSR, “it was all very volatile and exciting, and sometimes really scary.” When his office was suddenly shut down, Siegl stayed in Moscow. “The country under Andropov was really interesting, we all knew – even the Soviets – that the end was near. I got a job in the Austrian consulate, and watched as Perestroika started, and the Soviet system dissolved.”
The same type of Ducati frame, now with a motor and bodywork attached: what a difference a little machinery makes. [Anthony Blasko / Cycle World]New York City seemed the next logical, exciting place for Siegl, after watching the world shift on its axis. A friend mentioned a job at the Austrian Cultural Institute, and 2 weeks later he was in NYC with a job and an apartment. He embraced “everything American”, which of course meant buying a Harley-Davidson. “I saw a Sportster sitting on a milk crate on Lafayette Ave, and asked this guy smoking pot on his porch if he’d sell it.” $600 later he was a real American with a Harley, and discovered the world of aftermarket parts. Working in his carriage house studio, he transformed the bike into ‘my version of a Sportster.’ After riding a ’69 Shovelhead for years in all weathers, he “got a little bored with the performance,” and bought a GSXR. But when the Ducati 916 came out in 1994, it blew him away.
A stunning WSM Leggero; 'better than factory' is typical of Walt Siegl's design work. [WSM]“I started building bikes in NYC in 1985, but it wasn’t a business until 10 years ago. I worked 2 jobs, going into Manhattan every day to promote Austrian art, then cycling back to my studio in Long Island City. I’d pick up my girlfriend (now wife) Laura after her job as a waitress, we’d stay up a while, then I’d wake up at 6am to go to work. I did this for 20 years every day, even on weekends.” Fate, the politics of Foreign Service work, and the NYC real estate boom of the 2000s changed everything. “Ten years ago I was ‘offered’ a transfer to Rome - someone else wanted my job. Laura was pregnant with our son, and my workshop space was sold.” With increasing demand for his custom motorcycles, he jumped, leaving a secure position with the Austrian embassy, and his life in NYC. “Laura’s family had a place in New Hampshire, and every time we’d visit I’d see this old mill outside town, and said ‘if we lose our space in Long Island City, I’m going to knock on the door.’ That’s exactly what happened; our son was born in NYC and a week later we moved to Harrisville!”
In the workshop with a finished WSM Bol d'Or. [Yve Assad / Cycle World]That was 2006, and he’s adapted well to country life. “Not having access to toolshops is a problem, but the country keeps my head clean. At the end of the day we have dinner, I go to bed with work in my head, and wake up the same. I look out at the lake, and tidy things up in my mind. It really works for me.” Despite its rural locale, Walt Siegl Motorcycles was quickly recognized as a top-tier custom shop, with a super-clean, sophisticated design aesthetic worthy of an art gallery. Which is where I first saw a WSM bike, in the window of BDDW on Crosby St in Manhattan’s SoHo district - it was exciting to see a beautiful Ducati hotrod in a swank design store. The bodywork, stance, quality of workmanship, and perfect paint scheme were streets ahead of the custom scene as I knew it, and I’ve been following Walt Siegl ever since.
The same MV Agusta Bol d'Or model as modified by WSM. [Yve Assad / Cycle World]That dramatic bodywork and distinctive paint/graphics are visible signature of a WSM machine, but actually the last item on their agenda. Siegl considers the whole package; “I prefer to pick geometries for what the bike is intended to do – road or racing, but of course the bodywork is important.” He experiments with shape using signmaker’s foam, carving away with bodymaker’s files, then honing in with 40grit sandpaper, and finishing off with Bondo to fix the fine details. That buck becomes a mold for the first fiberglass ‘splash’, and if WSM is making multiples, they 3D-scan it and make CNC-machined molds. “We use jigs in the shop for our chassis, so a perfect, consistent fit is essential.”
The essential road test: the roads of rural New Hampshire make a perfect testing ground for half the years. [Yve Assad / Cycle World]What’s also essential for WSM is Siegl’s control over the process. “I’ve been doing all the design, it all comes out of me, I simply can’t allow it to be touched by anyone else, otherwise I couldn’t live with it. I’m not an easy person and I admit that.” He doesn’t work alone though; “I’ve got a really good guy, Aaron, we think alike in the shop, and that makes my life so much easier.” Siegl’s wife Laura is also a critical part of the team. Besides managing the business side, she keeps WSM projects grounded with practical feedback. “She’s my ‘outside eye.’ Sometimes I’m so entrenched in the process after 6 or 7 weeks, it becomes too much a part of me.” Laura provides real-world critique on stance, colors, handlebar height, and reminds Walt who his clients are; “I sometimes get too adventurous, and she calms me down, ‘Don’t forget - he’s not that person!”
A WSM Leggero built for Brad Pitt. [Daniela Maria / Cycle World]Walt Siegl Motorcycles is nearly finished developing a new chassis for Ducati engines, with the capacity to house both 4-valve and 2-valve motors, everything from a 916 to a 1098. It’s a bold move, to presume you can design a better chassis than the acknowledged masters of the art, but small shops like WSM have the freedom to specialize even further than factory-built, limited-production superbikes. OEM factories have strict design limitations, especially around noise – anything smaller than 5 liters for both airbox and exhaust volume makes the music too loud. While not particularly sexy, a new airbox was the motivation behind Siegl’s new frame. “My previous design was limited on horsepower, as there simply wasn’t enough room for an airbox. We use pods, but you can only get so much air into a charging system, that’s the reason behind the new chassis.”
The man. Walt Siegl is simply the most talented motorcycle stylist working in the industry today. [Yve Assad / Cycle World]WSM is digging a new composite steel, Docol, from Sweden. It’s only been available 4 years, and like most exotic materials, hails from the aircraft industry. Docol has a higher shear and tensile strength than chromoly, and it’s also more flexible – a critical quality for trestle frames. “It’s difficult to weld, but great stuff. Chromoly is fairly stiff, and you need to leave enough flex in the chassis so the tires don’t have to do all the work. With some flex engineered into the frame, the rider gets better feedback; when you hit the brakes coming into a corner you feel it in the handlebars. If the frame is too stiff, you find yourself on the ground with no warning.”
In 2018, Walt Siegl collaborated with Mike Mayberry (Ronin Motorworks) on a custom Alta Redshift, creating the WSM PACT, a stunning eBike design that sent ripples through the EV world. This example with carbon-chip bodywork is currently on display (2022) at the Petersen Museum in our Electric Revolutionaries exhibit. [WSM]Since Walt Siegl didn’t walk the engineer’s path to chassis design, his process is to pick and choose contemporary chassis geometries for the handling characteristics he wants. “There are only certain numbers you can work with. I start out with a 24-degree rake on the frame; by using different forks you can increase or decrease the trail significantly.” The swingarm length and location of the pivot point create options for geometry adjustments too; “Let’s say we start with ‘corsa’ numbers, then add 15-20mm to the swingarm. That gives us room to degree the handling to our liking, to give a more stable bike at speed.” For example, if WSM uses a Superbike fork dropped 10mm, it alters the rake to 23.5degrees. He’s also fond of the new TTX Ohlins forks, which are designed with an adjustable ride height, making frame geometry changes “fairly simple”.
One of eight PACTs built; this was the actual machineIt built for our Electric Revolution exhibit at the Petersen Museum in 2019.[Ted7]With the motivation for the new frame inspired by better breathing, clearly WSM is interested in gaining power, but max HP isn’t the goal; it’s all about the power-to-weight ratio. “We’ve designed the frame for 120-140hp, there’s enough chassis bracing to handle that easily. We are working on more power for our race bike, and our goal is a maximum weight of 300lbs complete with all fluids. With our street Leggero and mag wheels, we’re at 310 – 335lbs depending on equipment, with the 2-valve engine producing 110-115hp. Tuning the 2V motor shortens its lifespan, but over 100hp in a 310lb package makes a lot of fun.”
The WSM Rontu, commissioned by the Haas Museum, and currently on view at Electric Revolutionaries at the Petersen Museum. [Haas Motorcycle and Design Museum]WSM steers clients away from the inevitable HP conversation, preferring to discuss how handling affects the rider’s relationship to the machine. “If you have a good handling bike from the get go, it shows your potential. If you feel safe you can hold momentum in the corners, there’s plenty of feedback, and you think ‘OMG I can do this’.” Siegl feels neutral-handling bikes with “lots of digital stuff” like traction control and ABS don’t foster better riding skills, but high-performance machines with attention paid to suspension and geometry do make better riders. “That’s what I’m after with my bikes, and trying to convey to my clients. If you have more fun, you feel like a better rider. I’m lucky; most my clients have had several sport bikes before they arrive at my door, they’re not your average rich guy who wants another toy. They’re already motorcyclists. It’s much easier for me to build them a bike that makes them happy.” Which makes for a few lucky owners – the rest of us can be happy just looking at his gorgeous bikes.
The WSM PACT as currently installed in Electric Revolutionaries at the Petersen Museum. [Motor/Cycle Arts Foundation][This article originally appeared in the Sept 2017 edition of Cycle World magazine. Walt Siegl's motorcycles have been featured in two of the Motor/Cycle Arts Foundation's Petersen Museum exhibits, curated by Paul d'Orléans: Electric Revolution (2019) and Electric Revolutionaries (2022)]
Paul d'Orléans is the founder of TheVintagent.com. He is an author, photographer, filmmaker, museum curator, event organizer, and public speaker. Check out his Author Page, Instagram, and Facebook.
Now on view at the Petersen Automotive Museum in LA is our latest moto-centric exhibit: Electric Revolutionaries. Curated and concepted by Paul d'Orléans, the exhibit focusses on 11 designers making an impact on the electric mobility scene, each in very different ways; from top speed to accessible mobility, from aesthetic perfection to hand-cobbled and crude, from luxury to mass market to one-off. Each of these designers is tackling a different set of issues, illustrating the wide-open nature of EV design at this early stage of the industry. Our 11 designers are brave pioneers, embracing what could be the future of mobility, digging in on what design features make EVs unique, and challenging our ideas of 'what is a car or motorcycle?'
Electric Revolutionaires was produced by the Motor/Cycle Arts Foundation and Sasha Tcherevkoff, was assembled by the team at Vintagent Lab, laid out by Ian Barry, and presented with generous support from Livewire, and additional support from Damon Motorcycles. The exhibit opened April 9th 2022, with an opening reception April 14th that was a huge success, and according to Kahn Media, has already received over 3 Billion media impressions. It's a hot subject, and these are hot designers! It's proving to be a popular exhibit with museum-goers, and if you have a chance to visit, tickets are available at the Petersen Museum website.
Our Electric Revolutionaries:
Derek Dorresteyn
[Damon Motorcycles]
Derek Dorresteyn is a technical visionary who has designed the heart of two radical e-Moto designs: the Alta Redshift and Damon Hyperfighter/Hyperdrive. Derek grew up in a motorcycle racing family in Northern California, and was a professional speedway racer from 1983-1987. At the same time, he studied industrial design and mechanical engineering, and founded Moss Machine in 1989, a specialty CNC machine shop and consulting design house for Silicon Valley tech companies. Derek was an adjunct professor at CCA, lecturing on design and manufacturing technology. In 2007 he observed Tesla gaining traction, and pondered the creation of an electric racing motorcycle. He created a set of performance goals with his riding buddy, industrial designer Jeff Sand, and quickly found that no suitable components existed to meet their specifications. So they designed their own.
At the Petersen: the Alta Redshift used by Josh Hill to win the Red Bull Straight Rhythm; a Redshift Flat Tracker by Dale Lineaweaver; a Damon Hyperfighter, all part of Derek Dorresteyn's portfolio.
In 2010 Derek Dorresteyn, Jeff Sand, and Marc Fenigstein founded Alta Motors. Derek led the technical development as Chief Technical Officer (CTO), and with Jeff Sand and a small team designed the Alta Redshift motorcycle with a new high-performance electric drivetrain. The Redshift went into serial production at a factory in Brisbane CA in 2016. The Alta Redshift was notable as the first production electric motorcycle to challenge and beat internal-combustion motorcycles in professional competition. In 2019 Derek joined Canadian firm Damon Motors (founded 2017 by Dom Qwong and Jay Giraud) as CTO. He led development of the Damon Hyperdrive powertrain, and the motorcycles using it. At Damon, Derek and the team are commercializing new technologies while pushing the boundaries of motorcycle performance and safety, with a family of high-performance electric motorcycles. [Read our feature on Derek 'Alta in the Family' here]
Eva Häkansson
[Eva Häkansson]
Eva Häkansson was born in Sweden to a family of engineers, mechanics, and motorcycle racers, her father Sven was the 50cc racing champion of Sweden, and her mother Lena was his mechanic: both are mechanical engineers, and her brothers are electrical engineers. In 2007 Eva built the first road-registered electric motorcycle in Sweden, the ElectroCat, with her father. While writing a book about electric motorcycle design that year, she corresponded with Bill Dubé about his KillaCycle drag racer, and soon joined his team in Colorado: they were married 18 months later. She was the last in her family to gain an engineering degree, taking a PhD at the University of Denver in 2016.
At the Petersen: the KillaJoule dragster built by Bill Dubé with help from Eva, and KillaJoule, designed and built by Eva Häkansson.
In the midst of her PhD studies, Eva designed and built the KillaJoule streamliner, mostly by herself. In 2014, she piloted KillaJoule on the Bonneville Salt Flats, making her the fastest female motorcyclist in the world, in the fastest electric motorcycle in the world. In 2017 at Bonneville she achieved a two-way average speed of 255.122mph, but her ambition is to take the absolute motorcycle world speed record. For that, she designed Green Envy, a streamliner with over 1000hp, while working as a lecturer at the University of Auckland, New Zealand. Rain has twice halted her planned record runs at Lake Gairdner in Australia, but she hopes to demonstrate Green Envy’s potential soon. [Read our feature on Green Envy here]
Hugo Eccles
[Simone Mancini]
Hugo Eccles is British industrial and product designer, who founded Untitled Motorcycles to build custom motorcycles for private clients and brands. Hugo studied at the Royal College of Art in London, starting at global design consultancy IDEO, and later with superstar designer Ross Lovegrove. He emigrated to the USA in 2003 to become Global Director of Product Design at Fitch, then headed the Arnell Group’s Innovation Lab in New York City. He returned to London in 2010 to work with Sir Terence Conran as managing director of Studio Conran.
At the Petersen: Hugo Eccles' XP Zero
In 2014 Hugo founded Untitled Motorcycles in San Francisco, California. He rapidly gained attention for his forward-thinking designs, winning several awards. Zero Motorcycles approached him to build a special version of their SR/F sports motorcycle before it was launched, lending support with electronics and making prototypes available. The result was the XP Zero, which gained worldwide acclaim for its futuristic lines and solid design pedigree. The XP Zero is available as a limited-production model intended for road use, and Hugo is following the EV thread with the XR Zero, a racing version of the XP Zero, and the SuperMerica, using the LiveWire platform. [Read our interview with Hugo here]
Joey Ruiter
[Motor/Cycle Arts Foundation]
Joey Ruiter is a Michigan native who is rooted to his home state physically, but his design language is purely conceptual. After studies at Kendall College of Art and Design, he established a career as an industrial designer with J.RUITER Studio, working on a broad spectrum of objects: boats, office furniture for Herman Miller, the reboot of Buell motorcycles, etc. But it’s his conceptual vehicle designs that have brought broad acclaim, as they are incomparable in their radical simplicity. Joey’s vehicles on roads, snow, and water challenge the very definition of ‘car’, ‘motorcycle’, and ‘boat’ in their rigorous geometry.
At the Petersen: Joey Ruiter's Moto Undone, NOMOTO, and Another Sedan
Joey Ruiter’s refusal to cater to accepted design priorities - ergonomics and user interface – in favor of a purity of shape and concept, can make his vehicles challenging, or even threatening to a viewer. They do not need a driver or rider to be complete, they simply exist, aloof and perfect. His commitment to this conceptual practice makes him nearly unique in the world of vehicle design. Such startling rigor might be impossible for actual production, but as thought-provoking statements they are unparalleled.
JT Nesbitt
[Motor/Cycle Arts Foundation]
New Orleans native JT Nesbitt received his Master of Fine Arts degree from Louisiana Tech University’s School of Design. His career has encompassed reportage for Iron Horse magazine, a stint as lead designer of Bienville Studios in New Orleans, and two stints working with Matt Chambers, founder of both Confederate Motorcycles and the Curtiss Motorcycle Co. His motorcycle design language is distinctive and unforgettable, and includes the radical Confederate Wraith and second-generation Confederate Hellcat models.
At the Petersen; Curtiss Motorcycles' The One by JT Nesbitt
When Matt Chambers changed course on his bespoke motorcycle business to focus on electric vehicles as the Curtiss Motorcycle Co., JT Nesbitt returned to design The Curtiss One. While JT’s earlier designs flexed with aggressive, exposed structures, the One is an entirely different animal: elegant in an old-world way, with Art Nouveau lines and a joie de vivre surely reflecting his New Orleans roots. [Read our writeup of Curtiss Motors here]
LiveWire
[LiveWire]
LiveWire is the electric vehicle (EV) spinoff brand founded by Harley-Davidson in 2021. With an eye to the future, Harley-Davidson began investigating EV motorcycles in 2010, working with San Francisco-based startups Mission Motors and Alta Motorcycles to jump-start their R&D into this new territory. The result was the LiveWire, publicly introduced in 2014 with a tour of their dealerships across the USA, where interested riders could test this all-new EV design, from the oldest continually-operating motorcycle company in the world.
At the Petersen; the LiveWire One Carbon Fiber and Suicide Machine Co. custom
When Harley-Davidson announced the LiveWire would be available to consumers in 2019, they became the first major motorcycle manufacturer to offer a large-capacity electric motorcycle. In 2021, Harley-Davidson announced that LiveWire would become a stand-alone brand on the New York stock exchange (LVW), with a majority interest retained by H-D, and major investments from KYMCO and ABIC, a SPAC created to take LiveWire public in June 2022. It’s an exciting project.
Samuel Aboagye
[Efo Selasi]
While he is still a student in Accra, Ghana, 17-year old Samuel Aboagye has made a big impact in Africa with his personal initiative and self-reliant designs. As early as junior high school, Samuel began cobbling together a series of useful battery-powered objects for the home, built entirely from scrap and recycled materials. The first was a solar-powered fan that doubled as a phone charger. He also built a Bluetooth speaker set, a vacuum cleaner, and a portable washing machine known in Africa as a Veronica bucket.
At the Petersen: Samuel Aboagye's remarkable Solar Scooter and Solar Rickshaw.
In high school, working with his mentor/teacher Sam Hagan, he assembled his Solar Scooter. Efo Selassi’s excited video of Samuel’s scooter in action was broadcast to hundreds of thousands of viewers around the world, and brought him to the attention of the Motor/Cycle Arts Foundation (MAF). The MAF has forwarded donations to Samuel for developing new projects, and hopes to further the education opportunities for this extraordinary young man. [Read our interview with Samuel here]
Stefan Ytterborn
[CAKE]
Swedish design entrepreneur Stefan Ytterborn has a long track record of successful business development. He founded the winter sports gear company POC in 2004, which was oriented towards safety and reducing the consequences of accidents for skiers and gravity sports athletes. Stefan’s strategic development of POC made him responsible for over 2000 consumer products, as POC was sold at the retail level in 45 countries. In 2012 he sold his interest in POC.
At the Petersen: CAKE Kalk AP, Ösa :work, Makka :work.
In 2016, Stefan founded CAKE, an electric motorcycle company. Their first model, the Kalk off-road bike, debuted in early 2018 and was immediately hailed as an extraordinary design, winning many design awards. With a motto of ‘explore with respect’, CAKE’s aim was to bring positive changes to the motorcycle industry and the world, inspiring movement towards a ‘zero-emission society.’ CAKE now has three base models and many variants and options, including the Kalk AP, sent to African nature preserves to support anti-poaching efforts, the Ösa utility motorcycle, and the lightweight Makka moped. Their recent :work series of bikes and accessories emphasizes the unique capabilities of e-Motos for utilitarian purposes. [Read our 2018 CAKE profile here]
Storm Sondors
[Sondors]
Born in Latvia, Ivars ‘Storm’ Sondors showed great promise as a sculptor, graduation high school at 14 to attend art school. By his early 20s, he was living in Chicago building wooden prototype models for toys with big players like Mattel and Fisher-Price. He founded his own toy company to build radio-controlled cars, helicopters, and planes, and was very successful, but unhappy. A diagnosis of Asperger’s syndrome helped him change course in life, which included selling his company, moving to Malibu, and taking up surfing.
At the Petersen: the Sondors Metacycle, and MadMods.
While recovering from a sports injury, Storm showed interest in a friend’s electric bicycle, but was shocked to learn it cost $4000. He set himself the task of building an affordable e-Bike, and used a crowd-funding website to kickstart the project: it proved the second-most successful Indiegogo fundraiser, exceeding its goal by 7000%. SONDORS is now one of the largest e-Bike manufacturers in the USA, and is distributed in 42 countries. More recently, he turned his attention to disrupting the e-Moto scene by revealing the dramatic Metacycle, with a futuristic cast-aluminum chassis and an industry-beating low price tag.
Walt Siegl
[WSM]
Walt Siegl is an Austrian-born designer and fabricator of motorcycles internationally recognized for their timeless design, expert craftsmanship, and forward-thinking technology. At 14 Walt left home for art school in Graz, Austria to study metal sculpture and jewelry making. At 18 he joined an endurance motorcycle racing team. An accident stopped his racing career, so he worked in Marseilles as a shunter in a train yard, a toolmaker in Austria, and a welder in Italy. A job in Moscow for an Austrian steel company inspired him to join the Austrian Foreign Service.
At the Petersen; Walt Siegl's Rontu and PACT Carbon
In 1985 he transferred to New York City to promote Austrian art and culture, and spent 22 years there. In his free time he customized motorcycles, and demand for his work led him to move with his family into an old mill in New Hampshire to build motorcycles full-time. Famous for his high-performance, limited-edition internal-combustion sports motorcycles, he has recently turned to styling electric motorcycles, earning great acclaim for their superb design. [Read our feature on Walt Siegl here]
Yves Béhar
[fuseproject]
Born in Lausanne, Switzerland, Yves Béhar is a superstar industrial designer and founder of the branding firm Fuseproject in San Francisco. He studied design in Europe before attending the Art Center College of Design, and in the 1990s worked in Silicon Valley on design/technology projects for clients like Apple. He broadened his design interests to include furniture and clothing, and funded Fuseproject in 1999 to explore the integral relationship of brands with products. His client list is enormous, and his soft, minimalist style has earned him global acclaim.
At the Petersen; the Mission One mockup and only Mission One motorcycle
In 2007, San Francisco startup Hum Cycles, later known as Mission Motors, approached Fuseproject to design the world’s first electric sportbike. The team of ex-Tesla employees had the technical skills to meet the 150+mph expected in the sports motorcycle category, but wanted a stunning design to emphasize that a new generation of motorcycles was approaching. Béhar’s sophisticated and elegant Mission One was revealed in Feb. 2009. He has recently returned to the EV space, designing the Unagi Model 11, a folding standup scooter with adaptive safety features made of unique materials for lightness and strength. [See our 2009 feature on the Mission One here]
The Team:
The Motor/Cycle Arts Foundation and Vintagent Lab team: Competitions Director Dan Green, MAF co-founder Sasha Tcherevkoff, Curator Paul d'Orléans, MAF Director Kim Lohstroh Young, Electric Revolution COO George Tortarolo, MAF Education Director Nadia Amer, MAF Development Director John Lewis. [MAF]
Professional surf photographer Bernard Testemale began his career with analogue photography, honing his skills in the darkroom and working with large format Polaroid film, before adapting to digital photography as the industry changed. But his focus on digital only lasted 10 years, as he became obsessed with the 'wet plate' (collodion humide en Français) technique in 2013, learning from master chemist Jacques Cousin, and diving into old books on the subject. After a year of trial and error with this notoriously difficult and wholly artisanal process, his long experience with cameras began to shine through, and spectacular results followed. He brought his wet plate équipe to Wheels&Waves Biarritz in 2014, and began shooting the motorcycle scene as well as his water world of surfers. We covered his moto-photography exhibit from 2018 in our 'Art of Ride' article.
Racers Dimitri Coste and Frank Chatoukhine with one of their flat track Triumphs. [Bernard Testemale]Bernard currently has on exhibit 'The Roads Less Traveled', at RAW Culture Art Gallery in Barrio Alto, Lisbon, Portugal. Subtitled 'From Haleiwa to Biarritz: A Visual Journey' and curated by João Vilela Geraldo, the show documents Bernard's travels across the globe to document surf and moto cultures. Surf fanatics will no doubt recognize many of his subjects, as will anyone who follows the Wheels&Waves events in Biarritz.
Not for the faint of heart: wild boar hunting in Hawai'i with a bow and arrow. [Bernard Testemale]The wet plate process has a peculiar effect on portraiture; as the medium is only sensitive to blue-spectrum light (UV), any pigmentation of skin damage from the sun will darken in the image. It's why 19th Century photographs of Native Americans make them look like their skin is leather; their skin is not actually shiny black, but the pigmentation in their skin blocks UV light, and appears darker in a wet plate. Also, the process emphasizes skin damage, including wrinkles, which gives a face more character - a happy accident for men, and generally an unpleasant surprise when taking a wet plate portrait of women! Some of these effects can be mitigated by using a flash in a portrait studio (the most common use of wet plate today), but natural light photographers like Bernard (and my own MotoTintype series) embrace the skin's character highlighted by the process. If it was good enough for Abraham Lincoln, it's good enough for you.
Despite a 1-2 second exposure time, there's still room for fun with a wet plate photo. What's notable here is the detail in the photo (the silver molecules embedded in collodion are 1000x finer than in film media), and the slight solarization above the subject's shoulder. This may be the first wet plate photo taken during a haircut! [Bernard Testemala]Bernard generally shoots in an 8"x10" format using a 19th Century portrait lens, which gives a beautiful 'bokeh' around the subject - a ring of swirly blur that lends a fascinating energy to the photo, and focusses the eye on the center of the image. The wet plate technique uses a sticky collodion poured over a glass or metal plate that becomes 'film' when soaked in a light-sensitive silver nitrate solution. The molecular grains in silver nitrate solution are 1000x finer than any film media, thus the level of detail in a well-focussed 8x10" original photo is extraordinary. Basically, they can be blown up to the size of a billboard without a loss of sharpness, which is why professional architectural photography remained faithful to glass negatives through the 1940s.
[RAW Culture]From the Raw Culture press release: "Some call it the adventure of a lifetime. The ability to see and experience the world with your own eyes, and at your own pace. Your terms, your rules, the way you rock. But many people have walked that line, and many more have drawn those mountains and beaches, those dusty flats and those muddy roads. Many will also talk about it, write about it, dream about it. So it's up to those who choose to show the roads less travelled to be extra careful about what they deliver and discover. The doors they open into the daily routines and questions, the doubts and desires of those they meet along the way.
[RAW Culture]Bernard Testemale brought his camera not to register, record, or to run things over. It was his way of remembering. Thos he met, those he missed. Those he loved, those he learned to lose. Those he listened to, and those who got loud. That is the power of Photography. Not to register, record, run over. To remember.
[Bernard Testemale]The race cars and those who build them from scrap pieces like puzzles. Those who believe that engines are rine hearts that needs special care. The artists of the speed tracks, the racers, the riots at the finishing line where red flags rule. The winner and loser. The oil which fees motors and motions. The tools that twitch and turn, the screwdrivers that mend. And also the ones who choose other ways to move. By standing still first, and by sliding afterwards.
[RAW Culture]The Surfer, riders of waves and of the wild. Those who rise early to fee wet and frozen, most of the times fearless. Those looking to the swells and swirls, the foam of days. Those who live in water and sand. Those who look up, not down. These were the ones he met along the way. Through peaks and potholes, through dunes and deserts, willow palm trees and late barbecues by twinkling lights. The many moons watched from sleeping outside. The many hours spent going somewhere, somehow. Some stories are made to be shared. This is one of them."
[Bernard Testemale]
Paul d'Orléans is the founder of TheVintagent.com. He is an author, photographer, filmmaker, museum curator, event organizer, and public speaker. Check out his Author Page, Instagram, and Facebook.
You can almost smell the castor oil burning off the hot motor of Cecil Ashby's 1925 Zenith 'Championship' racer at Brooklands after winning the 200-mile race in 1926. C.T. Ashby had a rapid rise in his racing career, appearing like a meteor in 1924, and promptly winning both long-distance track events and road races in the UK and Europe. As a former fighter pilot in WW1 with the RAF, he considered motorcycle racing relatively tame, and enjoyed riding big machines like the 1000cc Zenith below, which made smaller road racers (more typically 350cc and 500cc) seem like child's play by comparison. "If one is used to to holding a machine capable of 100mph...the 500cc machine used for road racing feels ridiculously easy to manage" (from an interview in Motor Sports, Nov. 1926)
C.T. Ashby was a professional racer in an era dominated by amateurs. His racing Zenith Championship with 976cc J.A.P. KTOR engine racer is a very special machine, and the fastest motorcycle one could buy in the late 1920s. [The Vintagent Archive]Cecil Ashby was an interesting fellow, who took up racing seriously only in 1922, a mere three years before the epic header shot of this article was taken. He joined the Royal Air Force immediately after graduating from Grays College in Essex, and spent two years in relatively safe transport duty, before taking a pilot's license and indulging in two more years of 'cloud scraps' (dogfights) over Belgium, experiencing a few crashes and 'nasty moments', as he put it. After the war he set up in London as an import/export merchant, and in 1921 he bought an Indian V-twin with a sidecar, then a Rudge Multi. He raced neither machine, but purchased a 500cc N.U.T. V-twin, a nearly forgotten make today but one that had won the Isle of Man TT before WW1, and continued briefly after the war as a racing contender. Ashby's first races, while not winners, certainly gave him the bug, and led to a shift of careers.
The 1923 Wooler flat twin sports machine. Note the front suspension by twin plunger spring units on the front axle; a recipe for poor handling on the limit. [The Vintagent Archive]In 1923 Ashby took a job as sales manager for the Wooler Engineering Company, makers of the famous 'Flying Banana' motorcycles using flat-twin motors that could be totally dismantled using a single wrench. Woolers were not known for speed and were generally not raced, but in November that year Ashby took one to Brooklands, where it recorded a 67mph lap from a standing start, which astonished everyone! Sadly the Wooler was not used to such treatment, and expired, as did the Wooler Engineering Company soon afterwards. Ashby was undeterred, and joined Coventry-Eagle as their southern sales and competition manager. He used a 500cc sidevalve model in various reliability trials, but soon switched allegiance to the W.J. Montgomery Co, holding the same job titles. In the summer of 1924 he rode a 350cc Montgomery with J.A.P. OHV motor in the Isle of Man Junior TT, in which he finished a creditable fourth place.
C.T. Ashby's innovation for performance on a J.A.P. engined Montgomery TT racer: using one cylinder from the KTOR racing v-twin motor. It worked, and Montgomery offered a TT Replica model - seen here, a 1925 model. [The Vintagent Archive]In the search for more power, Ashby convinced J.A.P. (meaning their competition manager, Bert LeVack) to provide him with a 500cc engine using one cylinder from their new KTOR V-twin engines. Installed in the Junior TT Montgomery chassis, and took 3rd place in the Brooklands 200-mile race (lapping at 90mph), and won the 1924 BMCRC racing championship. At the big Olympia Show in 1924, Ashby once again took a new employment, this time from Phelon & Moore (P&M), better known as the makers of Panther motorcycles. While looking after sales in London and racing activities in the south of England, his work agreement stipulated he could also race other makes when not racing a P&M - a very unusual contract! Thus he was free to purchase and race the big Zenith Championship 976cc model pictured above, which was as fast a motorcycle as one could find anywhere in the world at that date.
From the 1925 Zenith Motorcycles catalogue: the Championship racing model. [The Vintagent Archive]Zenith motorcycles held more over-100mph lap times at the Brooklands speed bowl than any other make, and the construction of the competition machines were personally supervised by Freddie Barnes, the Managing Director of Zenith from 1907-1930. The Championship model was new for 1925, and Zenith expert Gerhard Schaukal estimates only six were built through 1930, using 1000cc OHV J.A.P. KTOR racing V-twin engines. Very few road-going or track motorcycles were built using these motors, and all were strictly limited-production models, like the Brough Superior SS100, Zenith Super 8 and Championship, Coventry-Eagle Super 8, MacEvoy, and a few other small makes. They remain the rarest and most coveted of all British V-twins, and rank highest among our list of Top 100 Most Expensive Motorcycles in the World today. Ashby's Zenith is a pure track racer, stripped down to the essentials. Note the big pillow strapped atop the tank for rider comfort on the notoriously bumpy concrete Brooklands speed bowl. The crucial components of the Zenith include the big 1000cc J.A.P. KTOR racing engine (probably tuned by Bert LeVack), the Harley-Davidson forks with an Andre friction damper out from, a 'square' ML magneto driven by chain at the front of the engine, two big 'Brooklands can' fishtail mufflers poking beyond the rear wheel, 21" wheels front and rear, and a a dummy rim rear brake. Ashby, always a practical rider, is wearing a turtleneck sweater under his collarless leather tunic, and a kidney belt to help with the pounding he must have received while doing 110mph with very little suspension.
Ashby on his 500cc P&M racer at the Isle of Man. The bike was fast, and lay 3rd for most of the race, but ultimately failed. [The Vintagent Archive]
Ashby's career blossomed with P&M, and he won numerous trials, plus a win in the German TT at Swinemünd, and a third in the Belgian Grand Prix at Spa. He also won the 250cc event at the inaugural German Grand Prix at the Avus circuit on a Zenith-J.A.P., and took 3rd on the P&M in the 500cc race. In 1926 he won a Gold Medal in the 1926 ISDT on the P&M, although an Isle of Man TT win eluded him, and though the P&M TT racer was fast, and lay for most of his races in the top 3, mechanical failures dogged the team. His best result at the TT was in 1927, after he left P&M in favor of OK Supreme, when he took 3rd place in the Lightweight TT. Later that summer, the European Championship - at that time decided with a single race - was held on the newly opened Nürburgring circuit, and Ashby beat the two-stroke DKW and Puch racers of of Winkler and Höbel to win with his OK-Supreme, making him the Lightweight Champion of Europe. In the 500cc event, he rode a Rudge to 3rd place behind Graham Walker (Sunbeam) and Stanley Woods (Norton).
Cecil Thomas Ashby, 1896-1929. He was 32 years old and at the top of his racing career when a crash at the TT ended his run. [The Vintagent archive]Ashby defended his 250cc European Championship title again in 1928, winning the Swiss GP at the Circuit de Meyrin in Geneva with his OK-Supreme, as well as the Austrian GP at Vösendorf. He won the 500cc Belgian Grand Prix race at Spa on an Ardie that year as well. Sadly, Cecil Ashby luck ran out in 1929 at the Isle of Man Junior TT, and he crashed his New Imperial racer heavily at Ballacraine, sustaining head injuries, from which he died in the night at Noble's Hospital in Douglas. He'd survived dogfights in WW1, 110mph laps at Brooklands, and two European Championships, but a small road racer proved his undoing, as did the lack of proper safety equipment for racers in the 1920s.
Paul d'Orléans is the founder of TheVintagent.com. He is an author, photographer, filmmaker, museum curator, event organizer, and public speaker. Check out his Author Page, Instagram, and Facebook.
The BMW R63 was the top of BMWs range in 1928; they had never offered a 750cc OHV motorcycle before. The R63 was an expensive machine when new, and cost about the same as a Brough Superior in the UK, due to import taxes, and I doubt many - if any at all - were imported to the USA. They remain coveted and expensive machines today, as the technical specification is impressive; 750cc OHV motorcycles for the street were rare in 1928, and none were offered in the USA at the time, and only a handful of luxury or super-sports machines in the UK or Europe were available with such a motor. The styling is another contributing factor to their continued demand; with spare, light lines, the 'flat tank' nestling between the frame rails, and the sporty motor, the R63 is a true Bauhaus beauty. BMW changed course in 1930 with pressed-steel frames that were also lovely, and gave an Art Deco flair to their lineup, but the R63 has a very different vibe, appearing much lighter and more sporting than its descendants.
A youthful Paul d'Orléans in 2006, giving his BMW R63 a ride in Golden Gate Park for an article by Andy Saunders in City Bike magazine. I was 'into' period riding gear at the time, although the death of a dear friend wearing an identical Davida helmet inspired me to put useless 'safety' gear on a shelf, and ditch nostalgia riding. [Andy Saunders]
I came across the R63 after selling a Brough Superior SS100 (and several other machines) in order to buy a house in San Francisco in 2001. The SS100 left me with enough cash to buy a restored 1928 BMW R63, which looked amazing via photos. The bike was restored in Germany, but was clearly not re-built for actual riding, only for display. I've never been so disappointed in a purchase! The mechanical noise was awful; it sounded like a cement mixer, handled like a cart, had terrible brakes which dragged and howled while riding, and a gearbox which whined like a dog with attachment issues. I returned it to the vendor, who had warned me I should give it a test ride before buying, but he was 3000 miles away, so I rolled the dice. He re-sold it immediately, such is demand for even poorly restored R63s.
What a beauty! The BMW R63 is from the 'flat tank' era of BMW design, with the fuel tank nestled beneath the top frame rails. A spare, Bauhaus-style design, with a 750cc OHV motor that was the most powerful machine available from BMW. [Andy Saunders]
Of course, my R63 wasn't representative of BMWs from the 1920's. I've since ridden some real peaches from the era (see this Road Test of an R16)...but after asking around for opinions on the R63, I found that although mine was mechanically suspect, they're all slightly crude compared to the later models I was more familiar with, starting with the R5 in 1936. The chassis specs are interesting; up front is a leaf-spring front fork with a generous 7" brake, although the rear brake is via a finned clamp over the shaft drive coupling, and does little good, especially when wet. The gearbox has three speeds, and shifting can be graunchy, but that's a problem BMW didn't solve until the turn of the Century. The 24hp motor has plenty of torque, as you might expect, and spun up well to a satisfying if not thrilling top speed of around 75mph. If you think I'm expecting too much for the period, my 1928 AJS K7 350cc had the same top speed, my 1928 Sunbeam Model 90TT would romp to over 90mph, and my tuned '26 Norton Model 18 was timed at 96mph. The handling with the leaf-sprung front fork was not up to British standards of the era, but probably equivalent of an American machine of the era. Which is why the dominant racing machines of the 1920s were Nortons and Sunbeams, which handle superbly and are much lighter, quicker motorcycles. In sum, the R63 is not a road-burner, but a beautiful grand touring machine, which is a fine thing to be.
Lest we forget: Ernst Henne in September 1929 on a BMW WR750 supercharged for record-breaking: he reached 134.67mph on the Ingolstadt autobahn. Read our 'Absolute Speed, Absolute Power' article. [The Vintagent Archive]
Would I give another R63 a try in my stable? Of course! What a beauty. I met a mechanic/restorer in Germany who regularly rides his R63 from Munich to Turkey for his summer holidays; now that's a relationship worth envying. And it should be remembered that the R63 formed the foundation of BMW's WR750 racers and record-breakers, that would record 135mph with a supercharger and streamlined bodywork. A very different animal indeed...
Paul d'Orléans is the founder of TheVintagent.com. He is an author, photographer, filmmaker, museum curator, event organizer, and public speaker. Check out his Author Page, Instagram, and Facebook.
When one ponders the English gentleman racer of the Vintage era, this square-jawed charmer is perhaps the apex example of the genre, for his visage in this case foretells a great career lasting decades. Meet the 30-year old Kaye Don at the Brooklands speed bowl in 1921, who has just set a speed record on a delicate but all-business Diamond motorcycle. And while some might think an athlete aged 30 might be at the peak of their racing prowess, at the moment captured he was only beginning an illustrious career that would earn him global fame. For while Kaye Don raced motorcycles for a few years in the early 1920s, it was when he abandoned two wheels for four, and wheels altogether, that he won his greatest success.
The youthful Kaye Don photographed on April 16, 1921 at Brooklands. He would earn legend status racing Sunbeams and Bugattis from the mid-1920s to mid-'30s, and for holding both land and water World Speed Records simultaneously. [The Vintagent Archive]
Karl Ernest Donajowsky (or Donsky) was born in Dublin in 1891 of Polish parentage, and adopted 'Kaye Don' as his nom de course. He began entering road trials on motorcycles in 1912, and worked as a tester for Avon Tyres, but the advent of WW1 in 1914 put a pause on his competition career. He joined the Royal Flying Corps as a pilot, eventually serving as an artillery observer in an R.E.8 reconnaissance plane over the Belgian front. When racing resumed in 1919, he raced motorcycles, and lived in Kingston-Upon-Thames as a man of means, employing Charles Cooper as his full-time racing tuner/mechanic. 'Charlie' Cooper went on to found the Cooper Car Co. after WW2, taking two F1 World Championships with his then-radical mid-engine monoposto designs. For a time Don and Cooper lived together at Don's address, before Cooper was married in 1923 and moved a short distance away. Cooper earned his mechanical apprenticeship at Napier just before WW1, and gained tremendous mechanical experience during an immediately after the war, repairing and reconditioning a wide variety of vehicles. Cooper would remain as chief engineer of Kaye Don's racing equipe through 1934.
Another Diamond 250cc OHV road racer from 1921, with Bert Houlding aboard, who later founded Matador motorcycles. Note the differences between Kaye Don's radical track racer and this better-equipped road racer. Road registration was a typical requirement for road trials and even the Isle of Man TT at the time, hence the full road equipment, including a horn and parcel rack with toolboxes...but no muffler. [The Vintagent Archive]
The top photograph is dated April 16, 1921, with Kaye Don aboard a pretty little Diamond 250cc OHV track racer with a 2-speed Sturmey-Archer gearbox. On that day the Diamond set a flying kilometer speed record of 69.62mph, impressively fast for such a small machine. Note the details of the Diamond: it has no brakes whatsoever, Druid racing forks, no chainguards on the primary or final drives, and no mechanical oil pump. Don would have pressed the manual oil pump atop the fuel tank every mile or so, and squeezed the 'front brake' lever for an extra shot of oil direct to the crankshaft's big end. The right handlebar also carried the combined throttle and air slide levers (there were few 'automatic' carbs at that time), to fine-tune the mix of fuel and air: a level of rider control no longer possible today. Kaye Don's outfit includes the typical woolen racing gear of the day (jodhpurs and an Oxford sweater), with his detachable-collar shirt, necktie with tiebar, high wool socks and street shoes. Hardly protective gear! All the chains were exposed on his Diamond, and considerable oil has been flung onto on the engine. Plus of course, there are no mudguards to keep down weight, but without any protection from road grit or oil, it's a wonder how his sweater remains clean! Regardless, a dashing portrait of an apex racing gentleman. The photo deserves additional scrutiny for the details in the background: note a Morgan Grand Prix parked along a safety rail with several open touring cars. The white horizontal strip in the far distance is the Byfleet Banking of the Brooklands racing circuit, which was nearly vertical at the top and appears as a wall here. Just behind the Diamond is a fantastic racing combination with an alloy-body sidecar, with giant dropped handlebars and a painted number roundel on the nose of the 'chair'. I can't discern the make of the bike, but it looks like a big v-twin, possibly a Zenith.
The magnificent monster - the Wolseley Viper built from a Hispano-Suiza aero engine and Napier chassis, driven by Kaye Don at Brooklands here. [The Vintagent Archive]
Kaye Don switched from racing motorcycles to racing cars later in 1921, after purchasing Harry Hawker's remarkable A.C. monoposto racer, after Hawker's death in an aero accident. Hawker had lived near Don, and he purchased the car presumably from his widow. The A.C. had an OHC 4-cylinder 1.5L motor on a long chassis and an alloy body built by Hawker himself: the engine was well-developed, and was the first 1.5L car to exceed 100mph, reaching 105.14mph over a measured half-mile at Brooklands with Hawker driving. After Kaye Don purchased the car, he recorded 100.4mph over a flying kilometer, but it was a year before a full mile at over 100mph was reached. The second care he raced was the famous Wolseley Viper, which was not really a Wolseley at all, but an aero-engined 'monster' assembled after WW1 and raced with some success by various drivers, until such machines were banned at Brooklands in 1930. After that, the Viper continued to serve, employed as a high-speed mobile test-bed for Avon Tyres, as it could reliably circulate the Brooklands track at over 100mph. The Viper used a Hispano-Suiza Type 34 200hp 11.7L OHC V-8 motor, built by Wolseley Motors Ltd. under license during WW1, and a pre-WW1 Napier shooting brake chassis owned by King George V, and surreptitiously borrowed by the Prince of Wales for the creation of the Viper by Alaister Miller, competition manager at Wolseley.
The Harry Hawker A.C. monoposto racer that Kaye Don campaigned with great success. [The Vintagent Archive]
After making a name for himself with race wins and 100mph laps, Kaye Don was offered a works driver position for Sunbeam in 1925. He drove three cars; the Cub, the Tiger and the Tigress, all of which were winners. 'The Cub' used an inline 6-cylinder OHC 1,988cc supercharged engine, and won the Gold Vase at Brooklands in 1927, lapping at over 118mph. The motor produced 145hp and its best laps at Brooklands were over 126mph in Kaye Don's hands. In 1925 he raced a remarkable 12-cylinder OHC 3,978c.c. supercharged Sunbeam, built to take a Land Speed Record, but also raced at Brooklands by Don, who set the Outer Circuit lap record several times, at 131.76, 134.24 and eventually 137.58 mph. He was the only driver at Brooklands to make a 130mph lap in the 1920s, which earned him the first 'triple Gold Star'.
Kaye Don in his 1928 Lea Francis Hyper TT racer, winner of the Ulster TT that year. [Coventry Transport Museum]
Kaye Don seemed happy driving any vehicle at speed, including the Jappic cyclecar, with which he set a 65mph 10-mile record in 1925, with a 495cc J.A.P. motor - the inspiration for the future Cooper racing cars? Don also raced on various various road circuits, proving he was a skilled road racer as well as a brave top speed driver. He won the 1928 Ulster TT driving a Lea-Francis, and competed at the Isle of Man TT using an MG Magnette. He was British Motor Racing Champion in 1928 and 1929. In 1930, Charles Cooper travelled to Molsheim to assemble the 4.9-litre, straight-eight Bugatti that Kaye Don is most famous for driving, among several Bugattis he campaigned.
Kaye Don piloting the Miss England III in 1928 on Loch Lomond, where he reached 120.5mph, a Water Speed Record. [The Vintagent Archive]
Don held many World Water Speed Records, which most would agree are far more dangerous undertakings than Land Speed Record breaking; in fact, many famous record holders on land lost their lives attempting the same in boats. The list of Kaye Don's records in boats is impressive, and he travelled extensively to the U.S.A., South America, Australia, South Africa and Europe to race. Don held the World Water Speed Record four times: 1931 Buenos Aires: 104 mph. 1931 Italy: 110 mph. 1932, Loch Lomond: 119 mph. He was awarded an International Motor Yachting Union Medal in 1931. He left boat racing in 1932, after famously reaching 120.5mph with the potent ‘Miss England III’.
Tragedy occurred at during practice for the 1934 IoM TT motor race, with an MG Magnette racer. Don had complained to MG about the steering and brakes of his racer, and asked his racing mechanic Frank Tayler to improve them. Tayler joined Don in the evening for a test run on public roads that were no longer closed for race practice. Of course, Don tried the MG at racing speeds, but sideswiped another car coming the opposite direction, and crashed. While none of the 5 occupants of the other car were injured, Frank Tayler was badly injured and soon died. As he had been driving at illegal speeds in a race car on open roads at the time of the accident, Kaye Don was charged with manslaughter, and despite the efforts of the motoring press, who testified that Tayler knew the risks of the situation, Don was convicted. After spending 5 months in prison, Don was released in Dec. 1934.
The 1959 Ambassador Super S model with deeply valanced fenders and a 250cc Villiers 2T twin-cylinder two-stroke engine. An attractive motorcycle - I had one! [The Vintagent Archive]
Kaye Don attempted a comeback in 1936 on four wheels, but this proved difficult, and he returned to working for Avon Tyres, testing new compounds for high-speed driving, sometimes using his old Wolseley Viper racer. In 1946, he founded U.S. Concessionaires with the intention of importing American cars, but the British gov't would only allow exports of British goods, due to the extreme national debt incurred during the War. Don pivoted to founding Ambassador brand motorcycles in 1946, which proved successful, using mostly Villiers two-stroke engines in well-built chassis (I had a 1959 Ambassador Super S with 250cc Villiers twin engine - a lovely machine). He sold Ambassador to DMW in 1961, and retired, aged 70. He lived from 1891 to 1981.
Paul d'Orléans is the founder of TheVintagent.com. He is an author, photographer, filmmaker, museum curator, event organizer, and public speaker. Check out his Author Page, Instagram, and Facebook.
After a two-year hiatus, the The Quail Motorcycle Gathering will return to Quail Lodge & Golf Club in Carmel, California, on Saturday, May 14, 2022. The 12th annual event will include five featured classes, announced as The Harley-Davidson XR-750, Two-Stroke “Braaaps,” Mini bikes | BIG FUN, and the BMW /5 Series. Additionally, one brand-new non-motorcycle class featuring hot rods and classic cars has joined this year’s line-up.
Where can you see a lineup of amazing road, race, and custom motorcycles in such a beautiful setting? Gotta hit the Quail, peeps. [Paolo Rosas]The featured class of the iconic Harley-Davidson XR-750 will certainly attract interest. The XR-750 is among the most successful racing motorcycles in history, and is still winning flat track races today, 50 years after its introduction! Among its most famous riders are Mert Lawwill, Cal Rayborn and Jay Springsteen, who took their National Championship titles on the distinctive all-alloy V-twin that everyone wanted for the street. Even Evil Knievel got in the act, giving up his Triumph and XL Sportster jump bikes for a proper XR-750, by far the most airborne of all Harley-Davidsons.
The Two-Stroke “Braaaps” display of on- and off-road bikes will fuel nostalgia for those who miss ring-a-dings and a trail of smoke. The “Braaaps” display will include a swath of pre-mixed motorcycle history from the 1960's and ‘70s, right into the early ‘80s, after which the species disappeared in the USA. Motocross bikes like the Yamaha YZ490 and the Honda CR500 will be alongside their road going counterparts like the Yamaha RD350 and even MotoGP Two-Stroke 500cc race bikes of the era.
The Rollie Free 'bathing suit' record-breaker makes semi-regular appearances at the Quail: what a stunner. [Quail]The BMW /5 class will include 'toaster tanks,' long- and short-wheelbase versions, and every option conceivable of this popular classic. The R75/5 series were the first motorcycles made entirely in Berlin (jokingly referred to as 'Berlin Motor Works') from 1970 to 1973. They were the first BMW to featured electric starters, and while some derided their handling as the 'rubber cow,' they were beautifully built and very reliable, and injected a sporting quality into what had been a staid lineup of Earles-fork /2 models.
Our buddy Roland Sands will be featured as the Quail's 2022 Legend of the Sport, and will present the Arlen Ness Memorial Award to a custom motorcycle builder in honor of the late Arlen Ness. Don't give yourself the award, Roland.
JK, go ahead.
The 100th anniversary of Brough Superior was celebrated in 2019, the most recent Quail event: it was an amazing lineup. [Tosh Monday]Hosted on the pristine lawns of the Quail Lodge & Golf Club in Carmel Valley, the Quail Motorcycle Gathering prides itself on being 'the premier motorcycle lifestyle event in the world.' It is certainly the finest motorcycle-only concours d'elegance in the world, and the machinery on display has improved year on year, a strategy that founder Gordon McCall applied to keep the growth of the event organic for long-term success. It has certainly paid off, and despite the pandemic event gap, the Quail continues to develop as an awesome event, with great food and drink, a stunning venue, and a very relaxed vibe. Plus, I'll be the emcee once again!
New to 2022, The Quail Motorcycle Gathering is offering General Public Admission Only tickets at $55, which include parking and gear valet service for those riding a motorcycle to the event. This year, The Quail is partnering with local food trucks providing a wide selection of food and beverages in the new concessions pavilion. General Public Admission + Hospitality tickets are $90 and include a lunch in a private seating area, including a buffet of culinary delights and non-alcoholic beverages. Tickets are available online at www.quaillodgeevents.com. Learn more about the event at www.peninsula.com/en/signature-events and follow the action on Facebook and Instagram, @TheQuailEvents.
If you've never done the Quail Ride on the Friday before the Quail Motorcycle Gathering, you're missing something extra-special: laps around Laguna Seca raceway! [Paolo Rosas]Feature image: Ian Barry of Falcon Motorcycles takes the Cycle World Custom & Style Award at the 2009 Quail Motorcycle Gathering, with his amazing Triumph-based Falcon Kestrel. Read my Road Test of the Kestrel here: we did the only road test of any media outlet of this extraordinary machine.
Ian Barry accepts the Cycle World Custom & Style Award for his Falcon Kestrel in 2009. [Paul d'Orléans]
Paul d'Orléans is the founder of TheVintagent.com. He is an author, photographer, filmmaker, museum curator, event organizer, and public speaker. Check out his Author Page, Instagram, and Facebook.
Dr Robin Tuluie’s meteoric career on two and four wheels
Full disclosure: due to an unpredictable path through life, I have rubbed elbows with, hung out with, ridden motorcycles with, done work with a lot of very famous individuals. Major rock stars, huge television personalities, film stars, and ravishing beauties men tuck themselves into bathrooms to privately celebrate. All have been interesting in one way or another, mostly for highlighting the strange separation of an actual human being with a famous simulacra the world adores. From all these meetings with remarkable men and women, there is only one who consistently astonishes me with a combination of genius, enthusiasm, accomplishment, and humility: Dr. Robin Tuluie. He also happens to be the one I’ve known the longest, as indeed I knew him when, having stenciled the logo of our long-defunct café racer motorcycle club on his leather jacket in 1987. Back then he was Rob the Roadholder, the egghead kid doing undergraduate studies at UC Berkeley, who rode the same Norton Commando on club runs that he campaigned at our local track, Sears Point. He was the same fellow then as now, being enthusiastic with a goofy humor and shy humility, and the ability to dig two layers deeper in a technical conversation than the rest of us, all of whom happened to be fellow alumni of the UC system, and no dummies, regardless our relatively harmless shenanigans aboard obsolete British motorcycles on the late-night streets of our sleepy city by the bay.
Rob the Roadholder in 1988, somewhere in Mexico on his full-race daily rider Norton Commando. [Dr. Robin Tuluie]Robin hid motorcycle racing from his parents in fear of losing financial support at University, and slipped through his years at Berkeley undetected. He’d moved to the USA from Germany in 1982, but had visited the campus before that with his Persian father, and happened across John Gallivan’s legendary TT Motors, the café racer hub of the Bay Area. “I saw all these amazing café racers and custom bikes, and asked ‘you can ride those on the road?’ After that, I said I’m moving there!” California has yet to reach the bureaucratic pinnacle of the TÜV, and Robin had been nicked multiple times for hot-rodding his moped in Germany. A native-born American might not comprehend the breath of fresh air such freedom provides, and in many ways Robin’s tale is a classic American immigrant saga: taking full advantage of our laxity, and joining the culture of mavericks that flourishes in our peculiar soil. At first, this expression was limited to the happy hooliganism of fast motorcycling and a no-money racing effort with an aging classic. “I started racing at Sears Point, the best and worst track to learn racing, every corner is so difficult. At Laguna Seca, all the Roadholders came, and I managed to get on the podium, and we had one hell of a party! I was the only racer sleeping in a tent on the infield - just a student working at a parking garage. I loved that time, it was simple and fun. Vintage car racing is still like that.” But a few podium places and even victories in vintage racing over the years gave no hint of what was to come.
30+ years later, Dr. Robin Tuluie still has his Roadholders MC jacket - and it still fits. [Paul d'Orléans]After graduating UCB, he moved to UT Austin for doctoral studies in Astrophysics, and carried on racing not just the Norton, but also an AJS 7R and a Yamaha TZ750, the fearsome two-stroke beast that defined ‘wickedly narrow powerband.’ After earning his Doctorate, the now Dr. Robin Tuluie pursued post-doc studies at U Penn, and applied new methodologies to his racing machinery. The result was the Tul-Da Eccentric 500 built in 1993, his first attempt at total chassis design. Tul-Da’s frame is shockingly simple; a robust triangulated girder fork connecting steering head to swingarm pivot. The ‘Eccentric’ was an all-empirical design feature, mounting both the fork stem and swingarm pivot on adjustable mounts, to alter the handling characteristics. Hung between straight chromoly tubes was a Honda CR500 MX-racing two-stroke engine, on which Robin worked black magic to produce an astonishing 75hp. The all-up weight of the Tul-Da was 197lbs (89.4kg) - a fighting man’s razor one could “just think through the corners.” It won 13 of 16 race starts and two Grand National Championships, as well as taking first at Daytona in the 1995 AHRMA Sound of Singles race.
Your author Paul d'Orléans on his Norton Atlas road/racer in 1989, two years after he founded the Roadholders MC with Adam Fisher and Mark Merat. [Paul d'Orléans]All of this occurred, mind you, in the middle of post-doctoral research on gravitation at Penn. But Robin would soon abandon the cosmos for Polaris, as his racing prowess attracted an inquiry from legendary moto-technical journalist Kevin Cameron: what did he know about snowmobiles? Kevin introduced him to Polaris, the USA’s largest wintersports manufacturer, and his first real job, designing the chassis for a new motorcycle project called Victory. Sales of ‘cruiser’ motorcycles were robust enough in 1996 for the giant snowmobile company to leap into the shark-filled waters of moto manufacture, which proved generally profitable, although the Victory line was dropped in 2017 to favor their acquisition and development of the Indian brand, which they reckoned had longer legs (‘1901’ and all that). And so it has proved.
Dr. Robin Tuluie with his Tul-Da racer, with a racing Honda CR500 MX motor tuned for 75hp, and a chassis built by Rob, with eccentric adjustments of the swingarm pivot and steering head. It weighed 192lbs dry. [Dr. Robin Tuluie]Proximity to racing snowmobile engines at Polaris led to the inevitable. In 1998 Robin designed a new racing motorcycle – the Tul-Aris - around a 700cc two-stroke snowmobile motor, pumped to 780cc and tuned to suit. It was the first motorcycle designed totally by computer, and the subject of his first SAE paper. Of all Robin’s racing motorcycles, the Tul-Aris is the best remembered, a featherweight beauty with gorilla performance. “I built the Tul-Aris as I’d always wanted to ride a GP bike, but quickly found out I wasn’t good enough! The power was absolutely terrifying – the bike still makes more torque than any MotoGP bike, and it only weighs 270lbs!” The Tul-Aris was a handful, a 120kg machine pushed by 183hp that wheelied right through fourth gear and gained 50hp within a 500rpm rocket-boost zone. In the hands of professional riders it collected enough wins and lap records to earn their living, and has the distinction of being the first home-built motorcycle to win a Grand Prix. It was also Robin’s first experience building a racer with a team of talented enthusiasts, a skill that would prove immediately useful when the Tul-Aris racer was abruptly packed away in 2000 for a move to the F1 ghetto of Oxfordshire.
A remote dirt campground, a little clutch trouble, and a lot of paper towels. From the Mexican adventure by Commando. [Dr Robin Tuluie]But we’re getting ahead of the story. After the launch of the Victory, Robin made a career shift more in line with his research into fluid dynamics at Penn, to work with Materials Testing Systems (MTS) in Minnesota. MTS is the sexiest engineering company you’ve never heard of, providing dynamic testing services to the automotive, construction, aircraft, and space industries. If you want to be sure your space shuttle won’t crack up from the stresses of atmospheric re-entry, call MTS. Or, if your 110-storey skyscraper needs certification that a 100mph wind won’t topple it, call MTS. Or, if the seven-post hydraulic ram testing platform for your F1 chassis needs tweaking, call the company who built it, and they’ll send their man out for a look. For a time that man was Dr. Robin Tuluie, who brought a physicist’s toolkit to the thinking behind hydraulic testing devices and computerized stress models, for structures large and small. It was a life-changing job, with world-class mentors like Neil Petersen, “who was so cool. If I had a question and he’d say, let’s sit down and figure it out, and he’d work it out all the calculations on paper with me.” Around 1980, Petersen adapted the tuned mass damper to stabilize skyscrapers in the wind: in a building, that’s a 400-ton chunk of concrete sliding around on the 59th floor, counteracting lateral forces via inertia. Automotive crankshaft dampers work on the same principle. “I have a 1930s Alvis with an aftermarket tuned mass damper on the bumper. On old cars you can get axle tramp - left/right/left/right - and you mount this on the bumper, connected to the axle, so if the axle started twisting, it counteracts the twist.” The past, as they say, points to the future.
A Roadholders club ride in 1988: Rob the Roadholder talking with Adam Fisher on the left. [Paul d'Orléans]The amazing 7-post hydraulic ram simulators at MTS are used to replicate real-world stresses on automobiles and trucks, and the auto industry relies heavily on their feedback. They can also replicate an entire F1 race using data retrieved from sensors, and can accurately predict lap time changes to the hundredth of a second from minor chassis adjustments. MTS is where Robin mastered the art of chassis design through data and simulation. “I started in the vehicle dynamics group, which is where I learned my craft.” Among the industry heavyweights he met at MTS was Bob Bell, who leveraged a doctorate in Aeronautical Engineering at QUB to become the man making F1 cars slippery in the wind, first at McLaren, then Jordan F1, then, around the time he met Robin, at Renault F1. “Bob is really good, we got along well, and he ended up as technical director at Renault F1. I visited Renault in the UK to improve a 7-post simulator, and Bob asked how I was doing. I said, ‘I’m getting a bit bored of hydraulic oil.’ He said, ‘that’s good - I think I have a job for you.’ ‘What job?’ ‘I was thinking Head of R&D.’ ‘Yeah, that would be great!’ That was it: I moved to England.”
The Menasco Pirate, using an aero engine manufactured by Albert Menasco in a period chassis and bodywork to match, here being raced by Robin at the VSCC Silverston races in 2018. [The Automobile]Kudos to Mr. Bell for recognizing talent. While Robin had never designed an F1 car, he already had extensive experience modeling, testing, and making them faster at MTS. The most significant idea he carried to England was an adaptation of the tuned mass damper. “Neil Petersen re-invented the idea for buildings, and I re-invented it for F1. It took off 3/10sec per lap, and it helped us win the World Championship.” Twice. His F1 system was essentially a mass and spring counteracting unwanted chassis movement. For example, when the tires grow lighter as the chassis bounces upwards, the mass pushes down on the chassis, providing more grip. The device was compact but heavy: Renault used 5, 7.5, and 10kg masses depending on the track. But F1 cars also carry tungsten ballast to bring them to the regulation minimum weight, so the damper simply meant less ballast. “It’s worth it” is Rob’s typical understatement: his tuned mass damper brought the under-funded Renault team the World Championship in 2005 and 2006, when the system was banned. While every other F1 team immediately copied his device (there are only temporary secrets in F1), they didn’t have someone with Tuluie’s background designing them.
The Tul-Aris was Robin's second major home-made race bike, using a Polaris snowmobile engine in his own chassis, designed entirely on computer. It has a better power-to-weight ratio than any current GP bike, and more torque too. [Dr Robin Tuluie]After winning two World Championships for Renault, Mercedes-Benz F1 called. “I moved to Mercedes because if they get involved, they’ll win.” Several F1 teams are located near Oxford, so the job swap was simply a new commute. With the mass damper outlawed, Rob invented a wildly complex, but passive, ride-height regulator. A typical F1 car has about 6000 parts, and his passive ride height system had a further 2000 parts, connecting the front and rear of the car to keep it level under all conditions: full acceleration, deep braking, and hard cornering. “You don’t want to dip the nose too much in braking, as instability comes when the weight is too light on the rear, it’s instant, even with a 15mm dip. That doesn’t seem like a lot, but negating that 15mm gained half a second per lap! At every point on the track the body was within a millimeter of where we wanted it. It was a flying hydraulic computer, with dozens of passages and jets and pistons and shafts and seals, with elements in the front and back. We also invented a fully tunable air spring, so there were no coil springs, no torsion springs - all air.”
The gorgeous Alvis Speed 20 SA, a weekend driver full of appeal. [Paul d'Orléans]While in Oxford, he fell into the vintage car scene with an original-paint 1932 Alvis Speed 20 SA with a Vanden Plas body. It’s a near-daily driver with enough room for the whole family, including an old friend from the States, whom Robin insisted should drive the car, despite an active load of un-belted ladies and children in the back seat. I can report that years of experience with 1920s motorcycles using manual throttle/spark advance/shift were of little help with the Alvis’ peculiarities. I found myself approaching a left turn with more speed than desired: Robin noted the fluff, and casually yanked the steering wheel around, slewing the whole (screaming) family sideways around the bend. “Old cars are so forgiving, the tires squirm and scrub off speed!” Indeed, nothing was harmed but my pride. The Alvis is an elegant old girl, spacious and relaxed in proportion yet still sporting enough to excite, an utterly classic British open sports car of the early ‘30s, with timeless lines. A car full of appeal, in short.
TLC for Robin's Kellison sports racer, while the Menasco Pirate lurks behind. [Paul d'Orléans]In the thick of a wildly successful F1 career, Robin decided to build his own race car, using none of the technology he’d developed at his day job. A rising tide of very cool aero-engine specials in the 2000s spoke to his years of combining unrelated powerplants and chassis into potent racers, so his search began for a suitable donor. He found it in a Menasco Pirate engine from the USA. Albert Menasco was a fascinating character, who mechanic’d for pioneer barnstormer ‘Birdboy’ Art Smith in the early ‘Teens, racing midget cars at the 1915 Panama Pacific Int’l Expo (see, ‘Race Around the Rainbow Scintillator’), and taking the whole equipe to Korea and Japan for expositions. Menasco was a wing-walker, then a flight instructor in WW1, and turned to aero engine manufacture in the 1926 as Menasco Motors. His inverted four- and six-cylinder engine design of 1929 became the most successful American race-plane motor of the 1930s. Ever the engineer, Robin found the engine’s architecture superior, “I thought wow this is neat, it’s a lot better than a Gypsy or Cirrus engine.” As Menasco’s engine design was certified in 1929, Tuluie thought it a perfect match for a ’29 Riley chassis. He mated it to a Rolls Royce 20hp gearbox and a locked Ford Model A rear rend. “The gearbox blew up almost instantly, so I had new internals made with a different tooth shape, and stronger.
The four Amal TT racing carbs feeding the Menasco Pirate aero engine. [Paul d'Orléans]With a bare chassis complete, he turned to Richard Scaldwell for an appropriate body. “He has a sculptor’s feel for how the car should look. I needed to make it look like an old car, learning how to use my eye to judge when something is cool and interesting and age appropriate.” The Pirate was finished in 2008 after an 18-month build, and first raced in 2009. “When you follow your own path you don’t waste a lot of time asking people. From an engineering perspective it was not that difficult, it’s not like modeling a modern race car at all. I did use computer simulation because I can’t help myself, so that’s modern, but the bits are mostly old. I wanted the car to say ‘aero engine car’ without putting a sticker or a propeller on it. I’d seen the instruments of a zeppelin at the London Science Museum, they’re all hanging from skimpy little brackets that scream ‘airship!’, so that was my inspiration for the dash.” As one might expect, a man who’s won the Daytona 200 four times can handle a car. The Pirate can be seen slinging itself sideways in various hillclimbs and VSCC events, and it had a win at Spa in 2019, the last time Robin could race it.
The Tul-Aris currently sits in Robin's hallway at his home near Oxford, England. [Paul d'Orléans]You’ll no doubt have noticed another, very black and very sexy racer in these photos: a 1957 Kellison. It is in fact the very first Kellison racer, serial #1, the one Jim Kellison called ‘the grandaddy’ in his 1959 advertising, because ‘our new car is so much better looking.’ A debatable point, as Serial #1 could pass for ten years younger. An open two-seat sports racer, it’s the only Kellison with dual headrest cowls matching the rear wheel arches. It’s a Frankenbeast of a car, with Chrysler bones and heart, and is pretty crude beneath that sexy fiberglass body. “Jim Kellison was an engineer with the Air Force, so the design isn’t stupid, but the suspension geometry isn’t ideal. The rear end has a solid axle on vertical coil springs – how stable is that going to be at 140mph?” Air Force experience informed Kellison’s famously sleek bodies, but Kellisons aren’t the best handling machines, as noted in period tests. “I raced it once and it needs to be improved to be safe. It’s very fast and weighs only 2000lbs, but I want a bit more shakedown time. I raced it on a hillclmb and didn’t get out of 2nd gear - I was slower than with the Pirate!” So, expect more from Robin’s Kellison, which will surely inherit a period-correct yet computer-modeled rear end in the near future.
Robin racing the Kellison at Impney in 2019. [The Automobile]Fast forwarding through Robin’s CV, after four F1 World Championships with two teams, he was ready for something new. “I get bored easily.” As a side gig, he’d been helping out with the Ducati MotoGP team, arranged by the CEO of Bentley, Wolfgang Dürheimer. That led to a new gig at Bentley, doing totally new kinds of simulation, “We were simulating audio systems for great sound, and the climate control system, to make it an amazing driver experience…it’s nice because these are simulations for making people happy!” Robin had 1000 engineers at his disposal for any project he wanted, including for Ducati/Porsche/VW/Audi but also jet and yacht design, Indycars, and more. And while all that was fun and new and interesting, he still had to answer to The Man, “stuck having to justify everything by expense and ROI.”
Dr. Robin Tuluie at his home in 2019. [Paul d'Orléans]In 2019 Dr. Robin Tuluie bailed out the window of the corporate jet to start his own business, PhysicsX. “I’ve got a great team that’s mostly younger than me, and we have offices in Bicester Heritage as we don’t want to be in a grey office park. We’re under the radar, with the benefit we can smell the old cars.” Not that old cars is the business of PhysicsX, “It’s going gangbusters now, we have 8 clients, and they’re big, like an F1 team, McKinsey, Ducati, and a medical company to develop a new type of mechanical heart.” Wait, what? Yes, it all makes sense: a genius at modeling fluid dynamics taking on the most important pump in the animal kingdom, a human heart. “We’ve looked at the field to see what people are doing, like modeling he human circulatory systems, they’re modeling like they’re circuits. I think ‘this is ridiculous’, these are hydraulic systems - we are hydraulic systems. It took me over Christmas to model the human circulatory system.” How does it feel to shift from relatively frivolous pursuits like racing to working on human beings? “There’s a bit of deep swallowing, but we keep following the physics. I feel 20-something years old again.”
[Note: this article originally appeared in The Automobile magazine in April 2021, with photos by Any Shore. It's definitely worth checking out the print version, but Rob's photos (and mine) tell another story...]
Paul d'Orléans founded TheVintagent.com in 2006. He is an author, photographer, museum curator, event organizer, and public speaker. Check out his Author Page, Instagram, and Facebook.
In 2013 The Vintagent had the pleasure of introducing the work of photographer and custom bike builder Valen Zhou of Chengdu, China to a wide audience ('A Truly Global Custom Scene'). His work on the 'Monstub' custom soon appeared in BikeExif and subsequently all over the Internet. The Monstub was his first customized motorcycle, and indicated considerable talent in Valen's hands. We're happy to share his second custom motorcycle, which he calls the 'ER' as an homage to his grandfather, a railway engineer, who helped raise Valen. His absorption of the tools of his grandfather's trade into the very body of his latest motorcycle is a beautiful statement of Valen's sincerity as a moto-artisan.
Valen Zhou in the wee morning hours under a freeway in Chengdu, China, with the ER. [Valen Zhou]Valen updated us on his story: "In October 2013 I built my first custom motorcycle. The story of the motorcycle was published in The Vintagent shortly after. A lot of people wanted to know what I would do next. I've finally finished my second motorcycle, which is to honor my grandfather, which I call 'ER' —the engineer of the railway. I lost my grandfather (who was 86 years old) in 2012; I grew up with him, and was proud I had such a cool grandfather. He was a railway and mechanical fuel technology engineer, working in the early 1950s, forming a new nation of Chinese industry. In those hard times, he was the one of engineers who built the four important railways in China. When he retired in 1986, I liked to sit next to my grandfather and watch him make toys. I still remember that time. I liked bicycles so much, my grandfather said: “If you want one, just build it yourself,” and perhaps that’s why I like doing things all by myself.
A dramatic shot revealing a few of the eccentric details of the ER. [Valen Zhou]After my grandfather passed away, my grandmother gave me a box, and told me it was my grandfather’s treasure. My grandfather treated that box just like his own life. When I opened the box there were so many tools in it, some of them I was familiar with, but some of them I had never seen before. All of those tools were used by my grandfather when he worked on railways. I incorporated these tools on my new motorcycle to show respect to my grandfather, and felt my grandfather would be there with me when he rode this new motorcycle."
Steam fittings and specialized (obsolete) tools used by his grandfather were incorporated into the ER. [Valen Zhou]Valen Zhou totally rebuilt a 1987 Kawasaki 250 in a very different manner from his previous machine, the Monstub. His intention was for it to be more efficient and practical, while integrating his grandfather’s tools to make the motorcycle special. He used one of his grandfather’s screwdrivers instead of a gear lever, and he bent a wrench to use for the kickstand. He cut two fire extinguishers apart and reassembled them to make the oil tank. The handlebars were angled for riding comfort. Valen obsessed over these details, and spent whole nights sewing his seat and polishing his rear wheel hub, to create a motorcycle capturing the spirit of the railway. Or at least, a memory of the railway as lived by his grandfather.
A hose tap, a screwdriver, spanners and hammers all made their way into the build. [Valen Zhou]Valen projected his second hand-made motorcycle would take three or four weeks to build, which of course proved impossible. There were many solutions required to problems of construction and unique design, and at times he struggled expressing his inspiration in metal. "I am so new to the world of motorcycles. Nevertheless, I finished it." After the Chinese New Year in 2014, Valen moved to Milan, which "is like a paradise to me. There are a lot of Italian classic motorcycles on the road, and I can find any type of motorcycle that I want. I will learn more skills about how to rebuild motorcycles, to make my work better."
The overall aesthetic of the ER was vexing for many readers in 2014! [Valen Zhou]Since this story first appeared in The Vintagent in 2014, Valen did indeed move permanently to Milan, where he's found work as a professional photographer. Sadly, he hasn't followed up with the 3rd custom build yet, but we're still hoping to see more, someday. His photography is featured regularly on The Vintagent, especially on our social media channels: Instagram and Facebook.
The stance is unique, but retains the standard chassis geometry of the Kawasaki 250. [Valen Zhou]Valen Zhou's photography is his primary calling, and his current profession in Milan. [Valen Zhou]
Paul d'Orléans founded TheVintagent.com in 2006. He is an author, photographer, museum curator, event organizer, and public speaker. Check out his Author Page, Instagram, and Facebook.
I was cruising the bike displays during the Northwest Thunder weekend at Portland's Expo Center, and spotted a motorcycle that brought on the memories. It was a 1962 BSA DBD34 Gold Star. That's a single-cylinder 500c.c. British bike produced by Birmingham Small Arms. It had an authentic blue tank and chrome fenders, and every detail appeared to be just as I remembered; it was THE bike to have in the late 1950's and early '60's. You see, I bought one just like it in 1958. Nothing remarkable in that, except that it was 1958 and I was - and still am - a girl. I was 18, having just graduated from high school, and knowing that the Fall would bring my enrollment in an all-womens' college, and with it the rapid onset of adult responsibilities ... which in 1958 spelled marriage/kids/dog/station wagon (or the only other alternative: becoming a librarian). This was my last chance for freedom.
A 1958 photo of Diane Brandon from her High School yearbook. Sadly, no photos of her with the BSA Gold Star, for the reasons outlined below. [Diane Brandon]The bike was new, the bike was blue, and I was a very inexperienced rider. I had occasionally gone for a putt by myself on a boyfriend's AJS and another boyfriend's Triumph TR6, but this was a new adventure. My considerable experience showing horses aided balance and coordination, my love for all things mechanical provided the enthusiasm, and my lack of years provided the ignorance I must have possessed to just get on the thing and go. There were no motorcycle safety classes or license endorsement requirements in Kansas City, Missouri, circa 1958. My dad wouldn't speak to me. My mother spoke to me of her horror that I would be killed in a terrible accident, but she was even more horrified that one of her friends might see me. My boyfriend at the time, who also had a BSA, was pretty silent on the subject, but I think he liked the extra attention it reflected onto him. No other woman I had ever known rode her own motorcycle. My girl friends were pretty indifferent to the whole idea as well. I learned then for the first time what we now see on the tee shirts, "If I have to explain, you wouldn't understand."Learning to ride well on the Gold Star taught me two things: courage and patience. I learned that if I possessed the passion for something, had the courage to make the necessary sacrifice and follow through, I could do just about anything. I also learned patience... waiting on the side of the road for the engine to cool enough for me to change the fouled KLG spark plug, or patience when a tiny oil leak would escalate to a steady drip, and I couldn't afford the repair until the next payday. These were good lessons to learn at the age of 18. By the end of the summer, with about 5,000 miles on the clock, I was riding pretty well, and hadn't dumped it yet. Well, maybe once or twice, but no one saw me and nothing or no one was hurt, so it didn't really count. It was time to stretch my skills and enter a widely-publicized upcoming race. It was to be a two and a half mile "road race" in Dodge City, Kansas on Labor Day. I sent in the entry form, and when the week-end arrived, I fibbed to my mother: something about staying overnight with a girlfriend. I strapped a borrowed Bell helmet and a denim jacket to the back of the seat, crammed a five dollar bill into my jeans (gasoline was 17 cents a gallon that summer) and rode that thing all night the 350 miles to Dodge City, stopping only for gas and a bottle of Nehi orange soda.
The BSA Gold Star was the factory's premier model, and could be ordered for any type of competition: scrambles, road racing, trials, or normal road use. [The Vintagent Archive]Morning found me at the hot and dusty race site which was the dirt runway of an old airport. The course had been defined by hay bales (hey, this was Kansas, remember.) My bike was checked over, everything was stock, so the headlight was taped, and I was told to go to the pits (and they were the pits) to wait. I munched on a tepid hot dog and waited for my race to be announced, mentally ticking over my personal check list in preparation for my time on the track: long hair tucked up under the too-loose helmet to help anchor it to my head a bit, cowboy boots, 501's tight as a second skin on my 5'9" 100 pound frame, topped off by one of my dad's white dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up and the tails flapping. This ensemble comprised my protective race gear. No goggles, no leathers, no gloves, no brains. The other 20 or so entrants in the novice class were similarly attired (except they wore tee shirts, not their dad's Arrows) and were riding an assortment of stock 500 and 650 c.c. bikes, mostly British; Triumph, AJS, Matchless, Ariel, Norton and of course, BSA. The race was of the cold start variety: wheel the bike to the assigned starting position and at the drop of the green flag, start the bike and begin the laps. That was it. The first six finishers would receive a trophy. Piece of cake! My race was announced, and along with the other inexperienced riders; I donned that miserably uncomfortable helmet (some things never change), wheeled my thumper to its designated spot, swung a leg over its stock bolster-style seat and waited for the flag to drop. As it dropped I acted on my mental list...I knew the bike was in neutral since I had just pushed the damn thing 100 yards in the 90degree midday heat. Stay calm, just reach down and tickle the carburetor, retard the spark advance lever over the left grip, pull in the compression release lever under the left grip, open the throttle halfway, place right boot's arch on the kicker and kick down while simultaneously releasing the compression lever. Started first kick, thank goodness. Advance the spark a bit, pull in the clutch lever, lift the right cowboy-boot under the gear lever and snick it into first and get outta there. Rev'it 'til it screams, kick down through the next three gears, and stay close to, but don't hook, one of the hay bales with a peg. Low gears up, high gears down, and with the right foot. British bike... I remember very little of the race itself except that in about ten seconds I was screamin' past the checkered flag. Hey, I placed fourth!
There were definitely women riding in the Midwest in the 1950s, and in every era, but sadly Diane didn't know any of them. [Pinterest]There were two more heats to watch and then the awards ceremony. The race organizers had built a clumsy wooden platform in the center of the hay bale course as a stage and over the screeching mike feedback, I listened carefully to each trophy recipient's name being called. When my name was heard, I trotted proudly up the steps to the platform, finally remembering to remove the helmet and when my long brown hair fell down below my shoulders, the announcer took another look at me, mumbled something about a mix-up, and the fourth place trophy I expected to receive was handed to the fifth place rider. I can still feel the humiliation and the accompanying hot red flush coloring my face, but cannot recall how I must have hurriedly stumbled off the stage, made my way back to my bike, nor do I remember much about the 350 mile ride home in the late summer evening's oppressive heat. I was disqualified because I was female!From that moment on, every time I looked at that sweet bike, I felt sick. My thrill in placing fourth in my first race had been replaced by embarrassment. My enjoyment in riding was gone. I put the bike and the memory of that afternoon away for the winter and the next spring, I just couldn't face riding again. Another boyfriend suggested I buy a different bike so I wouldn't associate that disappointment with riding. Good idea! I traded the BSA in on a 1960 Triumph Bonneville, a 650 c.c. vertical twin configuration and if I recall correctly, this was the first year of the dual carburetor. It had dual carbs anyway, the left one leaked, the right one didn't work much at all. As gorgeous as this new bike was, my heart just wasn't in it. I even tried some drag-racing since there weren't any rules forbidding women on the drag strip. But, for me, it was all over and within a few months, I had sold the Bonnie, and bought an MGA roadster. I didn't look back for thirty-five years.
The Dyna that brought back that two-wheel feeling. Diane Brandon out on a road run. [Diane Brandon]Fast forward...It's 1995 and after selling my car and waiting more than a few months, I took delivery of my '95 Harley-Davidson Dyna Wide Glide. I've put thousands of miles on it, mostly riding weekends alongside my husband on one of his stable of bikes. The passion and the thrill of riding is back. Now it's a giggle to pull off my helmet revealing my silver hair (my husband, Paul, says, "It's chrome, not gray.") and watch the reactions of those who seem to be amazed that an older woman is riding a Harley, and who still think riding a bike is akin to being a convicted felon. I've also noticed that on many of the rides we participate in with our HOG group, that often more than half of the riders are women! It's a whole new world out there, and it only took thirty-five years!
That obscure object of desire...a blue 1958 BSA DBD34 Gold Star. Still the hottest big single around! [Mecum][Ed- Diane notes that the Kansas City dealership where she purchased her 1958 BSA Gold Star is still in business - Engle Motors. It's ironic that the BSA Gold Star is named for a pin given to riders who had lapped the Brooklands speed bowl at over 100mph in a race. Women were banned from riding or driving there between 1908 and 1928, and were finally allowed to race against men from 1932. Three women won Gold Stars on motorcycles; Beatrice Shilling, Frances Blenkiron, and Theresa Wallach. We tip our cap to them, and to Diane - a badass before her time.]
Diane Brandon has been a judge of Rolls-Royce and Bentley at the Pebble Beach Concours d'Elegance since 1984. She currently resides in Tualatin, Oregon.
Like meditation, the art of modeling is a kind of prayer, and the ultimate homage to an object. We've featured models on The Vintagent before, but nothing quite so extraordinary as this wildly detailed Suzuki GAX1300R Hayabusa - made entirely from scrap paper by 'Yoshiwo Models'. There aren't words to describe the process and result of Yoshiwo's work, it is simply mind-blowing. Not in the model's veracity or trompe l'oeil realness, but in the thoroughness of his pursuit, and the sheer otherness of the result. The finished model is cool on first glance, but as this film demonstrates, what's inside makes it truly special.
Perhaps that's sufficient metaphor for Yoshiwo, who explains: "Do you like the Hayabusa? Of course I love it. I'll never forget the acceleration when I got on. Paper craft is my hobby. I'm making a motorcycle. When I was a high school student, I started my hobby because I wanted to get rid of a bad habit, so I started making models while looking at motorcycle parts catalogs. As an aside, my lover is depressed and is hospitalized in a psychiatric department."
The completed paper model of a Suzuki GAX1300R Hayabusa. Cool, a little lumpy, but wait... [Yoshiwo Models]'Paper Modeling - 隼 - SUZUKI HAYABUSA 2021 How I made bike with paper' runs 23:40, and is an appropriately thorough document of Yoshiwo's process. It's abundantly clear how they made this extraordinary model, which in no way diminishes its magic. Scaled-down blueprints and parts catalogs found online were the plans, and non-recyclable paper and cardboard the materials; notebook covers, printed paper, and heat-transfer receipts. The process is basic: an impromptu lightbox is used to transfer the outlines onto pieces of paper, layer by layer, part by part. The tools used were equally basic; a scalpel, hole punches, tweezers, and starch glue - because it's natural and non-toxic.
The beginning: tracing online blueprints and specs at scale, directly onto waste paper. [Yoshiwo Models]There are paper-sculpture traditions in Japan, origami (folded paper) and kirigami (cut and folded paper), but neither uses glue, and this model falls outside of their Venn diagram. If anything, the paper Hayabusa is a masterpiece of Outsider Art, from a presumably self-taught artisan, constructed with an attention to laborious detail that is less concerned with exactitude than obsessive thoroughness. Yoshiwo's paper sculpture is simultaneously humble, and humbling.
The gearbox...it was the gearteeth that blew my mind, and the connecting rods. [Yoshiwo Models]From the video: "Light boxes are very useful. When I didn’t have this, I pasted a paper on a bright object and copied it. PC monitors, daytime windowpanes, etc. I also covered my smartphone with transparent paper to copy [images].... I started using starch glue. There are two reasons. The first is to think about micro-plastics, it’s a very fine plastic waste, and its said that it may have an adverse effect. I usually use an adhesive made of vinyl acetate, so I changed to something which is not harmful to the environment. The second is that paper and [starch glue] are good friends. Both are made from plants, so even if the humidity changes, both will expand and contract in the same way."
The Hayabusa uses and extruded aluminum beam chassis, which adapts well to a paper translation. [Yoshiwo Models]"Making the details are a special time for me. Because, it makes me think of the people who made [the Hayabusa]. I think, one day the gasoline engine will be gone to prevent global warming. But at that time, I also think that it should not be remembered as a symbol of global warming. Because I don’t think a good future will come without accepting the past. It would be nice to remember that it was a development process, necessary for the world to unite and develop through environmental issues. And I hope that the engineers who contributed to the development of vehicles today will be better remembered by people."
The Hayabusa model sans bodywork, which is somehow more impressive than with the bodywork attached. [Yoshiwo Models]The piece de resistance is the kanji Hayabusa script. Note the rough contours of the vented front fender...slickness was never the intent. [Yoshiwo Models]
Every detail attended, including seat and subframe construction. [Yoshiwo Models]The finished engine is all the convincing required for this extraordinary work of art. [Yoshiwo Models]
Paul d'Orléans is the founder of TheVintagent.com. He is an author, photographer, filmmaker, museum curator, event organizer, and public speaker. Check out his Author Page, Instagram, and Facebook.
On July 9 1895 the Chicago Times-Herald took a cue from the French to announce a race for motor vehicles, the first in the USA, "A Prize for Motors". The world's first motor vehicle race had been held only a year prior, running from Paris to Rouen, and imports of the first production automobiles had only reached the USA in 1893. Motorized carriages were considered a passing fad, but H.H. Hohlsaat, publisher of the Times-Herald, was a far-sighted fellow, and wanted to promote the nascent industry of motoring. He lured entrants to his contest with a $5000 prize for “inventors who can construct practicable, self-propelling road carriages.” The course was a 54-mile route from Chicago to Evanston, and back.
A handsome photo of the Duryea car, hand-built by J. Frank Duryea, who wears a baseball cap (of the period) and is driving. It is perhaps the most recognizable 'car' among the entrants. [Detroit Public Library]The promotion of the race quickly revealed a linguistic inadequacy: there was as yet no agreed-upon word for motor vehicles in English. Once again, the Times-Herald stepped into the breach, inviting its readers to invent a new term for a new technology. You've heard some of the names offered: Horseless Carriage, Vehicle Motor, Automobile, Automobile Carriage, and Moto Cycle, or motocycle as it was thereafter printed. Motocycle isn't a term much remembered these days (unless you're a fan of early Indians), but before 1900 it did become the blanket term for anything roving the public roads with a motor and wheels, as you will read anon in the Scientific American article reporting on the Time-Herald race.
E.J. Pennington's motocycle was among the first gasoline-powered two-wheelers in the USA, and was patented the next year (1896). Steam cycles had been built since 1867, first by Sylvester H. Roper, and then by others, and the invention of the Otto engine (using gasoline) spurred new designs like this. Pennington was a con artist of the first order, and fleeced wealthy patrons in the USA and England with sky-high promises for his motorcycles and cars, which could not deliver. But, he did coin the term 'motorcycle' in 1893. Note the three seats, balloon tires, and the twin-cylinder engine out back. [Detroit Public Library]The race was originally planned for November 9th, but most of the 80-odd builders who expressed interest in competing had not yet finished their vehicles. Playing for time, Hohlsaat announced there would be a preliminary contest between the two cars that were ready on Nov. 2: a Gottlieb Benz driven by Oscar Mueller, and a Duryea, constructed by J. Frank Duryea, who also drove it. The Benz won that race after the Duryea struck a horse carriage and broke its steering arm. Both cars were under-powered, and had trouble crossing even the mild rise of railroad tracks, over which they had to be pushed; spectators on bicycles proved far quicker than any of the motocycles. It was not an auspicious start to a new industry, which most considered of interest only to the very wealthy. It was bicycles that people got excited in 1895, and all the social changes they allowed (especially for women), with new opportunities for socializing. Motocycles seemed an expensive pain in the ass, and the 1895 race did little to dispel that notion.
Pennington's four-wheel motocycle looked reasonable, but did not get far. Concealed under the bodywork is a laid-down V4 engine. [Detroit Public Library]America's first motor race was held in miserable conditions after an unseasonable blizzard, with 6" of fresh snow on the ground, and the temperature hovering at 30degrees F. The roads were mostly unpaved and slushy with icy mud, and for the new-fangled motocycles, the race was a daunting if not impossible situation. Of the nearly 80 entrants that signed up for the race, perhaps a dozen appeared, but half were deemed un-roadworthy after a quick test in Holstaat's barn; only six vehicles lined up to race on the day, all cars. The vehicles entered were an amazing mixed bag, reflecting the state of the motoring industry in the day, on the cusp of modernity, but unclear whether it would be electricity, gasoline, or steam power that would emerge victorious. The entrants included an interesting steam car built by A.C. Ames, using two bicycle frames holding a sleigh body, with the steam engine out back. It was immediately disqualified as it could only run for 100 yards before running out of steam. Two electric vehicles were entered: the Sturges Electric Car, built by Harold Sturges, did not have enough power to battle the built-up slush on the roads, and soon ran out of juice. The Electrobat had a promising name, but also struggled with a lack of energy on the rough roads, and failed sooner than the Sturges. Still, the Electrobat was given a Gold Medal award for efficiency.
"We think that this new means of transportation is destined to play an important part in the question of city traffic," - Scientific American
The notorious flim-flam man E.J. Pennington arrived with two vehicles: the two-wheeled 'motorcycle' (as he called his motorized two-wheelers, becoming the first to do so, in 1893) with which he eventually fleeced investors, and a larger vehicle made by doubling up his motorcycle. Interestingly, the Pennington machines were one of only two vehicles using rubber balloon tires recently invented by John Dunlop (1888), which everyone admired for their greater ability to handle the slush, and the smooth ride they provided compared to the solid tires of every other vehicle.
The doubled-up Safety bicycle chassis of A.C. Ames. [Detroit Public Library]Max Hertel and G.W. Lewis both built motor vehicles for the race: Hertel's did not start the race, and Lewis' did not finish. Jerry O'Connor drove a Benz sponsored by Macy's department store that crashed three times. It should be noted that none of the vehicles entered had brakes, and although they typically averaged 4-7mph, horse-drawn carriages were still an obstacle. The cold was a serious issue, as all the vehicles left the drivers exposed, and vulnerable to the frequent snowballs thrown by jeering children. Mueller actually passed out from exposure while driving his Benz; luckily each vehicle had an umpire from the race seated beside its driver, and Charles King simply shoved Mueller aside, supporting him on his shoulder, and carried on driving so the car would complete the race.
The second Benz sponsored by Macy's...their first Thanksgiving Day Parade? [Detroit Public Library]Only two vehicles completed the course: the Benz imported by Hieronymus Mueller & Co. of Decatur IL, driven by Oscar Mueller, and the Duryea, constructed by J. Frank Duryea, who also drove it. The Duryea was the winner of the race, making 54.36 miles in 7 hours and 53 minutes, averaging 7 miles per hour, and burning 3.5 gallons of gasoline. Every one of the competitors dealt with mechanical calamities en route, and Duryea had to dash into a tinsmith's shop (after rousing the owner at home) to straighten his steering arm after a collision with a carriage. Jerry O'Connor, in the Macy's Benz, had three accidents, all with horse-drawn carriages: a streetcar, a towing rig carrying another race competitor that had failed, and a hack (single horse with light two-wheeled carriage), which broke his spokes and his steering arm, after which he gave up the competition. After 8 hours and three accidents in the freezing, windy conditions, that was understandable. Still, the race planted a flag for motoring competitions in the USA, and only time stood between this first, feeble attempt at a proper motor race, and the popularity of motor vehicles as everyman transportation.
Max Hertel's entry used a small motor that proved inadequate on the day. [Detroit Public Library]
From Scientific American, Dec. 7 1895:
"It was extremely unfortunate that the weather should have interfered so seriously with the Chicago Times-Herald motocycle contest, which came off at that city on Thanksgiving Day. The recent storm had left the roads heavy with snow and mud. We are told that for miles on the west side the boulevards were unbroken fields of snowbanks and slush. Six machines lined up for the start : The Duryea, of Springfield, Mass.; the Morris & Salom Electrobat, of Philadelphia; the H. Mueller motocycle, of Decatur, Ill, the R. H. Macy, of New York; the De la Vergne. of New York ; and the Sturges electric motocycle, of Chicago. The Roger motocycle, with a view to giving it a long distance test. was started from New York to Chicago by road on November 15; but it was stalled by snow when it reached Schenectady.
The Sturges Electric vehicle. These construction detail photos (taken on glass 'dry plates'), show the curiosity this new technology aroused, and the many ways builders addressed issues of steering and translating a power source to the wheels. [Detroit Public library]Two of the machines covered the distance fixed for the race ; the first being the design of an American inventor, Charles E. Duryea, of Springfield, MA. His vehicle, a gasoline motocycle, covered the fifty-four miles in 10 hours and 23 minutes ; a really creditable feat, when we consider the wretched state of the roads. The H. Mueller, also an American machine, was second, making the journey in 1 hour 35 minutes longer time. The De la Vergne, the Morris & Salom, and the Sturges electrical machine made no effort to cover any great part of the course. The R. H. Macy had to retire after covering half the distance on account of broken running gear.
The Columbia Perambulator 3-wheeled electric coach, built by an old coachworks branching out into new turf: Columbia became a proper manufacturer not long after this race. Not the driver sat above and behind the passengers, with a tiller steering arm. [Detroit Public Library]Although it is to be regretted that the recent storm should have spoiled this most interesting contest as regards the number of contestants and the rapidity with which the course was covered, we must bear in mind that the great severity of the test speaks all the more favorably for the excellence of the vehicles which completed the journey. The storm of a day or two previous had completely paralyzed vehicular transportation in the very district where the Duryea motocycle completed a fifty-four mile journey at a five-mile gait, and came in to the winning post none the worse for the trying ordeal. No better proof could be given of the all-round excellence of this vehicle. The greatest care must have been exercised in the proportioning of parts, and the general setting up, both of the motor and carriage, to enable it to battle for ten hours against the combined obstacles of mud and snow. It is, moreover, greatly to the credit of the manufacturers that all this strength should have been obtained without the sacrifice of general appearance. As shown in the illustration, the Duryea motocycle is certainly an elegant turnout, and for looks it could hold its own with the average horse carriage of today. Undoubtedly the motocycle has come to stay.
The Electrobat built by Morris and Salon gets my vote for the best name! It's clear from this photo it uses front wheel drive, with larger wheels up front than the rear. It's not the first front-wheel drive motor vehicle - that credit goes back to Cugnot's 'fardier a vapeur' of 1770! [Detroit Public Library]For private use, as compared with the horse carriage, it has many points in its favor. The space required for stabling would be merely that occupied by its own bulk; and its running expenses would be limited to the fuel consumed and such repairs as might occasionally be required. We think that this new means of transportation is destined to play an important part in the question of city traffic. In the main thoroughfares of the larger cities traffic is badly congested. The adoption of the motocycle will largely relieve this, for the reason that it occupies only about one-half the space of the horse carriage; moreover, it turns in a much smaller circle, and is in every way more flexible in a crowded thoroughfare. The metaphorical allusion to a flow of water in speaking of city traffic is well chosen. The stream of traffic is subject to the same laws as any fluid moving in a fixed channel. The more easily the particles adjust themselves to each other, the more rapid will be the flow, other things being equal. Nothing hinders the flow of traffic so much as a line of vehicles moving on a fixed track and having the right of way over ot her traffic. If such a thoroughfare as Broadway, in New York City, were asphalted from end to end, and its vehicular traffic carried on by various forms of the motocycle, its capacity would be largely increased.
A rare close-up of the Pennington four-wheeler, with exposed connecting rods and large flywheel for its horizontal V-4 motor. As with all Pennington motors, it had no cooling fins, and soon seized. The certainty of dirt entering the exposed cylinder bores also guaranteed a short life. The motor used train technology to transmit engine rotation to the rear wheels, using the wheels or in this case a flywheel, via the connecting rods. That branch of motor vehicle development was popular in the pioneering years, including with the first production motorcycle, the Hildebrand&Wolfmuller of 1896. [Detroit Public Library]The force of this statement will be realized by any one who has watched the ease with which the bicycle can thread it way through a crowded thoroughfare. Making allowance for its larger bulk, the motocycle shows an equal facility of control. The general adoption of this vehicle, and the consequent removal of many thousands of horses from the streets of our cities, would result in greatly improved sanitary conditions. The introduction of the trolley and the cable car removed the nuisance in part, it is true, but it still exists. A gusty wind will raise at any time in dry weather a cloud of dust, which is composed more than anything else of pulverized manure. The gravity of this nuisance, viewed from a sanitary standpoint, is not generally appreciated. The adoption of any device, such as the motocycle, which will abolish the horse from a city’s streets, would be welcomed by its sanitary officers as largely conducive to public health."
The steamer in all its confusing jumble of pipes and fittings. [Detroit Public Library]Paul d'Orléans is the founder of TheVintagent.com. He is an author, photographer, filmmaker, museum curator, event organizer, and public speaker. Check out his Author Page, Instagram, and Facebook.
"P[/dropcapeople just seem to hate their money right now." That was the explanation from Sam Murtaugh, COO of Mecum Auctions, on why prices for collector vehicles are going crazy in 2022, as evidenced by their amazing run of successful auctions over the past two months. Mecum's January collector car auction in Kissimmee Florida was the highest-grossing motor vehicle auction in history, with over $200M in sales. Let that sink in a moment. Much like their just-concluded Las Vegas motorcycle auction (which brought in ~12% of that figure), well over 1000 vehicles rolled across the podium, making each auction the biggest in the world by volume alone. This year just hit different, though, and the Mecum crew were riding high on Kissimmee juice when they set up their auction in the South Point Hotel & Casino, well off the Las Vegas strip.
This 1973 Honda CL450 Scrambler with Flying Dragon bodywork fetched $58,300, a world record for the model. [Mecum]While Mecum's motorcycle auction, held Jan 25-29, did not set a world record for sales, the prices reached were consistently high, and many world records for individual machines were realized. Perhaps the premier example was a 1972 Honda CL450 Scrambler with 'Flying Dragon' bodywork, the psychedelic hand-applied water-dip paint scheme available as a swap-out from Honda dealers, that fetched an astounding, world-record $58,300. If you've ever wondered at the beauty of marbled book endpapers, the Flying Dragon bodywork kits used the same process: drip paint colors onto a still water tank, swirl them around a bit, dip your part into the water, and let it dry. It's unknown how many of these bodywork kits were made in 1972/3, but four color combinations were offered: gold/purple, silver/purple, green/purple and blue/dark blue. About 650,000 CL350s were built from 1968-73, so this machine can hardly be called rare. But, the Flying Dragon bodywork is: former owner Bob Kelly says it's the last of the bodywork kits he's dug up NOS from old Honda dealers, and estimates there may be 20 examples left...including the one he sold at Mecum in 2021, that fetched 'only' $13,200.
American four-cylinder motorcycles were always rare and expensive, as opposed to the V-twins making up the mainstay of most manufacturers' sales. Big twins were relatively inexpensive and fast, whereas their four-cylinder counterparts took the title of 'fastest production motorcycle in the world' many times. This last-year Henderson KJ is a rarity, as Igaz Schwinn, who owned both the Excelsior and Henderson brands under his mighty bicycle empire, decided that the Depression wasn't going anywhere soon from the perspective of 1931, and just like that, he announced 'today we quit' to his Board of Directors, and pulled the plug on all motorcycle manufacturing that year. Too bad: the KJ was designed by Arthur Constantine, and had nothing to do with William Henderson's original four-cylinder design that Schwinn had purchased in 1917. The KJ was a superbike of the era, actually capable of pulling from 10mph to 100mph in top gear, and looking like a sleek freight train in its 'streamliner' bodywork. This machine was from the esteemed collection of Dr. J. Craig Venter, which meant no surprises for the buyer.
Such a beauty: the 1940 Indian 440 Four was the first year of Briggs Weaver's iconic styling. [Mecum]
The Indian Four was the last American four-cylinder motorcycle produced until 2014, when Motus debuted its V4 sports machine. And this is almost the last of the Indian Fours, a 440 model built in 1940, the first year with Briggs Weaver's iconic deep-fender styling and plunger rear suspension. It's a stunning machine from the collection of Bob Mitchell (more on him later), which I had the pleasure of judging at a Fort Sutter AMCA meet in the 2000s, at which it earned an almost-impossible 99.5-point score. The problem? A washer on the points condenser was nickel instead of zinc plated...and who knew that? Not me - ask the AMCA chief judge from the era, he really knew his stuff. That was typical for Mitchell's restorations, and any machine passing through his hands was definitely deserving some extra cash.
So much motorcycle for 1932: the Indian 432 was the jewel in Indian's headdress. This one sold for $154,000. [Mecum]
The 1932 Indian 432 was among the first all-Indian fours, shedding its vestigial origins as a rebadged Ace, and joining the Indian family with an all-new chassis and bodywork, and plenty of engine upgrades. Indian joined the four-cylinder game the easy way - they bought the defunct brand Ace from its previous owner in 1927. Ace justifiably laid claim to being the fastest production motorcycle in the world when introduced in 1919, and was the love child of William Henderson. Henderson sold his eponymous brand to Ignaz Schwinn in 1917 after 5 years of no profits, and worked briefly under the giant Schwinn enterprise. Henderson was pissed that Arthur O. Lemon, Excelsior-Henderson's chief engineer under Schwinn, suggested changes to the Ace design for more reliability, and quit to form a new company, with a new design that infringed none of his previous designs sold to Schwinn. When Indian bought the brand, they hired - you guessed it - Arthur O. Lemon to improve the design, but first they assembled the stock at hand for the Indian-Ace of 1927/8, basically a red Ace. Lemon gradually improved the design with a 5-bearing crankshaft and a heavier chassis, and this beautiful 1932 432 is the result. And yes, three American four-cylinder bikes each sold for $154k; did someone promise their partner they'd 'only' spend $154k on a bike, then do it thrice?
A military machine to its core, Harley-Davidson's TA featured automobile tires and a 38hp motor. It was say too fun for the Army, apparently. [Mecum]
You're forgiven wondering what the big deal about a Knucklehead-engined Servi-Car might be, but this is not really a modified production trike: it's one of 18 prototypes built for the US Army to evaluate as a General Purpose (GP) vehicle capable of carrying 4 soldiers plus their guns and ammunition just about anywhere. It was one answer to BMW's R75M military bike with a driven sidecar wheel, and is a far better vehicle for the North African campaign that inspired its creation than the legendary WLA military flathead soldiers were stuck with. With a detuned EL motor giving 38hp, and twin shaft-driven rear wheels, the TA, as it was labelled, was a potent tractor, with better ground clearance than the R75M. It coulda been a contender, but another GP vehicle took the contract, becoming known by that label, phonetically, as the Jeep. I bet the power-to-weight ratio on the TA made it much more fun than any Jeep! Anyway, only 7 are known to survive, unlike the thousands of WLAs out there, which made it one valuable military machine.
Perfection in line and décor, the 1939 Indian 439 was from the last year of the 'open fender' Indians, which are the prettiest of all. [Mecum]
If you aren't a little weak in the knees looking at this stunning Art Deco masterpiece, I'm not sure you really love motorcycles. In my opinion, it's among the prettiest things on wheels, especially in World's Fair colors provided by Indian's owner DuPont, whose paint technology (and gunpowder) made the DuPont family very rich indeed. Luckily for Indian, E. Paul Dupont (read our full story of the DuPont family here) really loved motorcycles, and had $100,000 or so invested in Indian; when the company was foundering after the Wall St crash of 1929, he stepped in and bought the company. DuPont turned Indian's fortunes around, and their period of ownership (1930-45) were Indian's most profitable years of all. The gorgeous silver-over-blue paint job was all about the 1939 New York World's Fair, and combined with the flowing, almost feminine lines of the Indian, make for an all-time beauty, and one of my favorite motorcycles.
OK, I admit being a little perplexed with this one. I reckon the $165k spent on this machine is at least $100k over its comparables of that year and model, so what gives? Is a secret map to El Dorado etched inside the gas tank? Auctions are funny things: sometimes you get bargains, sometimes you get two people in a room who want THAT bike, and are willing to spend what it takes to get it. My father once bought me a BMX bike at a police auction, spending way too much because there was another dad bidding against him, with His son egging him on too. Anyway, the Model J was Harley-Davidson's mainstay for almost 15 years, a solid, reliable, and robust motorcycle that cemented the Motor Co's reputation as builder of exactly that. This bike was part of the Harley-Davidson Heritage Collection, which fetched a little over $4M for the 98 bikes at the Mecum sale.
Prewar Knuckleheads have been strong sellers for the past six years, so a $200k sale price for a beautifully restored, fully documented first-year EL is on par. The Knucklehead, as it became known for the shape of its rocker covers, was a game-changer for Harley-Davidson, setting the stylistic tone forevermore for a V-twin cruiser. It was H-D's first OHV V-twin roadster, although they'd built racing OHVs since 1915, and OHV singles since 1925. Still, the jump from big sidevalve motors to OHV roadsters in the hands of Joe Public held terrors for the conservative boys from Milwaukee, who feared calamity from such exotic technology in the ham-fisted garages of Americans. They needn't have worried, the EL was a big hit, eventually, but for 1936 it appeared in no factory advertising or catalogs; as such, sales were small for '36, and first-year Knucks are rare indeed, and correctly restoring one is not at all easy, as many parts were one-year-only. I had the luxury of riding an immaculate '36 over the 11,000' Independence Pass in Colorado on the 2014 Cannonball: I found the power turbine-smooth and the ride comfortable, but the handling left much to be desired. But, I'd been riding a 1933 Brough Superior 11.50, so was spoiled!
The original Hendersons, under the watchful eye of William Henderson himself, are known as the 'Duesenberg of motorcycles' for good reason: they're long, beautifully finished, and surprisingly reliable. So much so that a first-year production Henderson Four (1912) became the first motorcycle to ride around the world under Carl Stearns Clancy. William Henderson was obsessed with four-cylinder motorcycles as a boy, and sketched out notional designs of a four that his father - chief engineer of the Winton car company - would give feedback on. Eventually young William's design was beyond criticism, so his father sponsored the building of a prototype in 1911. It was good enough to inspire a major investment from the family's car-building friends, and the Henderson Motor Co was on its way. It's reckoned the company lost money on every Henderson sold, despite already being the most expensive motorcycle made in the USA, and by 1917 the company was looking for a buyer. They found one in Ignaz Schwinn, the Chicago bicycle manufacturing giant who had bought the Excelsior motorcycle co. in 1911. Things changed with the newly badged Excelsior-Henderson Fours, and collectors reckon the 1912-17 models are the ones to buy.
Let's drop some knowledge here: the Vincent Black Shadow is not especially rare, nor is it faster half a Century after its production than its Rapide stablemate. But, the power of a good name endures, and the Black Shadow is the #1 target for most beginner collectors with a wad to spend and not enough confidence in their motorcycle education to branch out to other, more genuinely rare machines. As a result, the Black Shadow is the canary in a coalmine for collectable motorcycle prices: I've watched Shadow prices seesaw wildly since the 1980s, and lose 80% of their value at times. A good Shadow is an $80k bike these days (and a couple sold for that at Mecum this year), which is way down from 4 years ago, when $150k+ was the norm. Still, nobody can fault a nut-and-bolt perfect restoration with a bunch of show wins under its belt. This machine is the most expensive Black Shadow ever sold at auction, and is probably the best, too. There are more expensive Vincents, like White Shadows and pre-war Series A Rapides (check our Top 100 for details) , but this bike is the ultimate Series C Black Shadow, which is saying something.
Top price of the auction went to my old 1938 Brough Superior SS100, which fetched $236,500. The price would have been higher had the engine and chassis numbers matched: read the story below. This machine joins our Top 100 Most Expensive Motorcycles list. [Mecum]The top price made for the week was actually a machine I once owned: a 1938 Brough Superior SS100 with Matchless MX motor. I found the motor of this bike in the early 1990s via a print ad in a motorcycle magazine, showing a pile of four SS100 motors at an Argentine dealer. I already owned a 1938 11.50 model (since 1989), but presented with the chance of owning an SS100 was too much temptation: I contacted Hector Mendizabal by fax, and he assured me the motor was "the most virginal, fresh, and unmolested SS100 in the world." With desire overtaking common sense, I wired $7500 to a bank account in Florida, and hoped for the best. Then I waited, and waited, and faxed, and called, and Mendizabal reassured me the motor would be sent 'soon,' but soon turned into 18 months, and I despaired of ever seeing the motor or my money again.
If you had seen this photo in 1992, what would you have done? That's 3 of the 300 MX-engine Brough Superior SS100 motors ever built, in one place, near Buenos Aires. I only bought one, as that was all I could afford. [Paul d'Orléans]A chance conversation about an early Parilla racer for sale in Florida changed my fate. On discovering its owner, Dr. Ruben Nasio, was from Argentina, I inquired if he knew Mendizabal? "Oh yes, I know him well...he is, how you say, difficult to hold." "You mean slippery?" I asked. "Yes, exactly." Mr. Nasio gave me succinct instructions on how he would help resolve the situation: "You tell Mendizabal that I will be traveling to see my mother in Buenos Aires in one week, and that if the engine is not in your hands at SFO before then, I will pay him a visit." I was most grateful for the help, and faxed those very words to Mendizabal. 72 hours later I was contacted by United Air Freight that I had a package waiting at SFO. I rushed over the find a stout wooden crate that had clearly been sitting for a long time, and opened it right in the parking lot to find, amazingly, the most unmolested SS100 motor on the planet. And several really big cockroaches, which I quickly dispatched with my hammer, not wanting to introduce an invasive species.
No cockroaches inside! Investigating the inside of the 1938 Brough Superior SS100 engine - in pretty good shape, actually. [Paul d'Orléans]Dr Nasio had performed a miracle, although I had to wait a few weeks for him to return to the USA and explain himself. I wondered - was he a 'doctor' for the Argentine military junta with a feared reputation? Not quite; when I finally reached him back in Florida, he laughed at my query. "The explanation is simple. I had a problem very much like yours with Mendizabal, and he was very late delivering a rare motorcycle. So I brought my friends, and they quickly resolved the situation." "Who were your friends?" "Ah, the Misters Smith & Wesson, they solve many problems in Argentina! I never had a problem with Mendizabal again." Nor did I, actually, and later he brokered the sale of a complete rolling chassis for a Brough Superior 11.50 model discovered in Uruguay, in which I hoped to house the SS100 motor. In the early 2000s I decided it was time to buy a house in San Francisco, so I sold the project to Bob Mitchell, the NASA engineer who was head of the Cassini space probe project, whose restorations are legendary for their no-expense-spared perfection. My only regret was not being able to afford the SS100 once Bob had finished it!
She used to be mine! But she was a wreck when I loved her, and I didn't have the time to fix her. Now she's a supermodel, the star of the show, and way out of my league. [Paul d'Orléans]
Paul d'Orléans is the founder of TheVintagent.com. He is an author, photographer, filmmaker, museum curator, event organizer, and public speaker. Check out his Author Page, Instagram, and Facebook.
When Winnifred Wells was 11 years old, she stood tall in her mother's kitchen and declared she wanted a motorcycle. That was in 1939, and it should be noted her father George was an ardent motorcyclist, despite his day job as owner of a furniture factory in Perth (GF Wells), and that Winnie was the third of his four daughters. It took her 5 years to age up to a motorcycle license and buy a BSA 250, with which she upset the local motorcycle club by attempting to join their ranks. She simply wanted to improve her riding skills after a spill, and thought more experienced riders might instruct her, but they balked at the prospect. That was 'typical male chauvinism' she said, but it didn't deter her; not much did. She pushed her way into their ranks, practiced scrambles riding on a Triumph 350, and soon realized she had a lot more gumption than her club mates. For example, when she declared her intention in 1950 to ride solo across the south of Australia to Sydney (and back), she was roundly discouraged - certainly none of them had attempted it, and crossing the Nullarbor Plain alone on a motorcycle was considered suicidal. The Nullarbor Plain, part of the Great Australian Bight, stretches for nearly 700 miles, with no water, few animals, and even fewer humans. It was described in 1865 as a "hideous anomaly, a blot on the face of Nature, the sort of place one gets into in bad dreams." Still, her father George was encouraging; "Nothing short of a major breakdown will stop her accomplishing this trip."
Plucky! Winifred Wells and her abbreviated riding kit for a 21-day ride across the Great Australian Bight, solo. [State Library of Western Australia]Winnie's plan was to ride a new 1950 Royal Enfield Bullet 350, but she didn't have the ready cash, so approached the local dealer - Carlyle & Co - for sponsorship. Owner Carl Cohen took a gamble on her plan, no doubt because she seemed determined, and was very attractive, and it would be great publicity for his agency. He sponsored Winnie's trip with the princely sum of £25, and sorted a financing plan for a new Bullet through IAG...who had to give her permission to take the bike across state borders. She set out on Boxing Day (Dec. 26) 1950, and it was 105degrees in Perth. Her riding kit was very simple, with two leather pannier bags and a canvas gym bag strapped to the Enfield's carrier. She wore a simple riding kit of a light zipped leather riding jacket, khaki jodhpurs, high boots, a scarf and sweater, and a peaked cap under which she tucked her hair. She carried a single spare set of clothes, a groundsheet but no tent, and £25, which she reckoned would be enough for her planned 3-week round trip of 5504miles. "I was full of myself, as you are at 22."
After her original 5500 mile journey, Winnie was road-worn but shone like a star. [State Library of Western Australia]She found accommodation her first night in the hamlet of Southern Cross, from which she entered the Nullarbor, and sleeping in the rough. She'd had a spill on loose gravel (the route was entirely unpaved) that day, and that first night was dismal. Her third day was no better, as she crashed again; “I was haring down these terrible corrugations and had the biggest spill you could imagine, a full locker and high side that sent me sprawling.” She found a small mining settlement, at which she was encouraged to ride right back to Perth, as she'd scraped up the side of her face, and bent her bike. Local bush mechanics helped her straighten things out, and she carried on, reaching Sydney in ten days, where she spent the weekend taking in the sights. Then she turned right back around and crossed the Nullarbor again, for a 21-day round trip. Back in Perth, she was celebrated by the Lord Mayor, interviewed for the press, and presented with a silver trophy by the Australian Royal Enfield importers, at a ceremony on the local speedway track.
A silver vase was awarded by the Australian Royal Enfield importers to Winifred Wells after her successful solo journey. [State Library of Western Australia]She was the first woman to ride solo across Australia, but that hadn't cured her desire to break new boundaries. A year after her first trip, she upped the ante, planning a ride around all of Australia. At this point her father George stepped in, telling her "you're not going alone." He was 59 years old, had once worked in the north of the country on the Kimberly Coast, and had experienced the issues with driving in the area, especially the Great Sandy Desert. Another new Royal Enfield Bullet joined their équipe, which Winnie rode, while her father rode the original Bullet, saddled with the bulk of their luggage. This time they set out northward from Perth, on Sep. 23 1952, in the hopes of missing the monsoon season, and the large number of heavy trucks expected to supply Australia's nuclear weapons tests on Monte Bello. The dirt roads were well packed and the going relatively easy, until they reached Pardoo Sands. Winnie reckoned that was the most difficult part of the trip, as the Enfields weren't powerful enough to fly over the sands, and they struggled mightily, paddling along with no traction or balance for 200 miles. On the other hand, when the road was smooth, Winnie had a habit of crossing her legs atop the Enfield's tank, and rolling along at 60mph; she reckoned the top speed reached on her Enfield was 78mph.
Winnie and George Wells on the start of their round-Australia journey on Royal Enfields in 1952. [Wikipedia]As Winifred Wells was already famous from her first trip, their journey was slowed by obligatory press opportunities in every proper town they passed through. In Sydney, Winnie and George were celebrated with a street fair in front of George Bolton's Royal Enfield showroom, and press stops and celebrations en route added 10 days to Winnie's original 9-day journey between Sydney and Perth. The entire journey took just over two months, and the pair reached Perth on Nov 26, 1952. They had averaged 300km/day for their 10,000 mile journey, their bikes sipped fuel at 90mpg, and while they had plenty of flat tires, their Enfields had no major breakdowns. There were more celebrations at home in Perth, and Carl Cohen purchased Winnie's first Enfield for display at his showrooms. She kept the new Enfield as her daily rider, and while both bikes seem to be lost to history, Winnie's story is evergreen, as are the photos of this plucky young woman. At 23, she was 5'5" and 110lbs, but made of strong stuff, with the heart of a lion.
Winifred Wells celebrated in Perth after her first journey at the local Royal Enfield dealer. [State Library of Western Australia]Winifred Wells and her 1950 Royal Enfield Bullet would have been a perfect addition to our ADV:Overland exhibit at the Petersen Automotive Museum! Unfortunately, the whereabouts of both her Bullets is currently unknown, but we celebrate her remarkable story with these terrific photos from the State Library of Western Australia.
Winnie awarded a silver platter inscribed with a map of her round-Australia journey in 1952. [State Library of Western Australia][Thanks to the many articles used to source this information, including the UK Mirror, Old Bike Australasia, and especially the State Library of Western Australia]
Paul d'Orléans is the founder of TheVintagent.com. He is an author, photographer, filmmaker, museum curator, event organizer, and public speaker. Check out his Author Page, Instagram, and Facebook.
Nearly 100 Exceptional Motorcycles Covering 60 Years of History
Complete. Thorough. Representative. Connoisseurs might possess such goals when building a collection, but in truth most vehicles are purchased with desire, emotion, and impulse rather than single-mindedness. The Harley-Davidson Heritage Collection is exceptional, though, in the sheer breadth of the timeline it represents, from the earliest years of H-D production to the end of the company’s classic era. They’re all heading to Mecum’s blockbuster Las Vegas auction in January 2022, and will surely be the center of attention in the arena, with nearly 100 beautifully restored models covering every year of the Motor Co.’s history from 1910 to 1969. That timeline includes two World Wars and several ‘difficult’ years when production was extremely limited, and rare models that have nearly been forgotten to history. And as most of the collection’s motorcycles were restored by one person to an extremely high standard, it’s remarkably consistent in quality and universal appeal: they’re all beauties, even the military bikes.
Parsing out digestible segments from the Heritage Collection is made easier by the interruptions of military service over its 60-year timeline. Before WW1, Harley-Davidson offered a Fordian choice of color options: you could have any color you liked, as long as it was Renault Grey. Those early machine are discretely lovely with their blue pinstripes, but everything changed as it became clear the USA was headed to war in Europe. At least, it was clear to the William Harley and the Davidson brothers, who were men of great ambition, but whose factory was far from being #1 in the marketplace, that spot had being held by rival Indian. Indian expected that, as the top manufacturer in the country, they would naturally be chosen first for military contracts in the event of war.
While most of the H-D Heritage Collection is accurately restored, a few are barn find original, like this remarkably complete 1914 Model F. [Mecum]The clever gents at Harley-Davidson had in mind to leapfrog their way to the top, and indeed they did, by offering free rider training and repair schools to the military, plus guarantees for a robust spares supply. Thus H-D’s representatives were literally on base with soldiers all over the USA, developing relationships that would last for years after the war, regardless repair instructions covered all motorcycles in the military arsenal. The generosity of the Harley-Davidson offer was not lost on the military, and the success of Harley-Davidson’s strategy was the beginning of the company’s long focus on military, police, and institutional clients as a stable source of revenue. And in case anyone missed the message that H-D were 100% behind the US military, they changed their monochromatic color scheme from Renault Grey to a military Olive Green in 1917, for all models, and for the next decade.
The 1920 Harley-Davidson WF Sport Twin was their first flat-twin and their first sidevalve motorcycle. There would be more of both! This one is rare and what a restoration! [Mecum]The pre-WW1 1910-1916 Harley-Davidsons in the Heritage Collection include both the original single-cylinder models, and the later V-twins that would become the hallmark of the company for the next 100+ years. The single-cylinder models include both belt drive and chain drive examples, of the type that have recently won the cross-USA Motorcycle Cannonball Endurance Rally, twice. Clearly, the original H-D single was a robust machine, and set the pattern for all models to come.
A mainstay of the 1920s, a 1923 H-D JD in Brewster Green, a two-year color option, and a break from 14 years of Olive Green! [Mecum]The Collection’s inter-war models from 1919-1941 include a multitude of interesting and rare machines from a period of experimentation by the factory. After WW1, Harley-Davidson had few rivals, but Indian and Excelsior built popular motorcycles in a variety of configurations and capacities, which forced H-D to respond. Indian’s small-capacity Scout V-twins were big sellers, and Excelsior also built a 750cc (45ci) model, the Super X, that opened up a whole new sales category. Harley-Davidson responded with new single-cylinder models for the road, and the Collection includes several, including a very rare overhead valve 1929 Model B with lights and fenders. The Collection also includes one of only two flat-twin models in H-D history, the 1920 Sport Twin Model 20WF, which was proven be sporting indeed, but was not popular, and quickly dropped. The Sport Twin is thus scarce, and increasingly collectible for its technical fascination and obscurity. The rest of the 1920s was dominated by the J series V-twin, which had a 15-year production run in various iterations, and proved a very reliable and robust motorcycle with good performance. The Collection includes 16 examples of the J series, from the prototypical 1915 Model 11F with the factory’s first 3-speed gearbox, to a 1929 JD model, the mainstay of the decade, with full electrics and classic lines.
The Art Deco style of mid-1930s H-Ds is undeniably elegant: this hot 1936 VLH looks superb in it two-tone paint. [Mecum]Everything changed for Harley-Davidson in 1930, which was unrelated to the Depression: radical model changes for that year had been in development for years. The factory foresaw the end of the line for the F-head engine configuration, which Count DeDion had popularized in 1898, which established the motorcycle industry worldwide. The F-head was less reliable than the sidevalve engine both on the road and in racing, so from 1930-36 H-D made the switch for all its roadsters. The Heritage Collection includes many examples from the era. Two examples of the original 45ci Model D series from 1930/31 are important rarities, being the factory’s answer to the Indian Scout and Super X, which became the foundation of their future racing program all the way through 1968! There are also several classic, beautifully restored Big Twin sidevalve models from the era, including several from the V and U series, which were produced all the way up to 1948, and are increasingly sought after for their clean lines and stone reliability.
The 'Liberator' as it was known, the prosaic 1943 WLA sidevalve, with 80,000 or so built, and few original survivors. [Mecum]Of course, the big news in 1936 was the introduction of Harley-Davidson’s first overhead valve Big Twin, the EL ‘Knucklehead’, with an all-new chassis and 4-speed gearbox, adopted across the whole range. Pre-War Knuckleheads are among the most hotly collected Harley-Davidsons, and the Heritage Collection includes beautiful examples from 1937, ’38, ’39, and ’40. Moving to the war years, several military machines in the Collection are real standouts for rarity: a Model XA, one of only 1000 produced in response to a War Dep’t request for a machine suitable for North African desert fighting, much like a BMW R71. A captured BMW was sent to Milwaukee, and voilá, the XA was born, incidentally with the Motor Co’s first use of rear suspension, and shaft drive. Other WW2-era rarities in the Collection include an unusual military UL Big Twin, and a beautiful civilian Model 44F Knucklehead from 1944, when ‘no’ civilian models were produced. The bulk of the War years in the Collection are classic WLA military machines as supplied in their tens of thousands, which became known as ‘the Liberator’ for their role in winning WW2. All six of the Collection’s WLAs are perfectly restored and include decommissioned Thompson sub-machine guns in their leather scabbards.
Post-war Big Daddy: a 1948 FL Panhead, a first-year model with springer forks, and the most collectible Panhead of all. [Mecum]Postwar treasures include an ultra-collectable, first-year 1948 FL ‘Panhead’ model with springer forks and a rigid frame, plus every significant iteration of the Panhead afterwards, with the transition to full suspension from the first-year Hydra-Glide telescopic forks and a rigid rear end, to the Duo-Glide with rear shocks, and finally the Electra Glide with an electric start. A few Sprint, Topper, and Sportster models are interspersed with the full 22 years of the Panhead represented, plus ten years’ worth of the new Shovelhead after that model was introduced in 1968.
Rare in original condition, this 1972 FX Super Glide Night Train was Willie G. Davidson's answer to the chopper craze of the 1960s and 70s. [Mecum]If you have any interest in owning a true classic, the Harley-Davidson Heritage Collection represents a veritable supermarket of delectable, appropriately restored machines. It is truly a remarkable collection, and will make for sensational viewing in Las Vegas, as such a display of Harley history has never been seen in such a complete and expansive timeline. Buy one, or buy them all to make an instant museum!
A masterpiece of design, marred by an ordinary motor, the 1978 XLCR was H-D's first cafe racer, and a bold step to answer a global challenge in the 1970s. [Mecum]
Paul d'Orléans is the founder of TheVintagent.com. He is an author, photographer, filmmaker, museum curator, event organizer, and public speaker. Check out his Author Page, Instagram, and Facebook.
It is said no plans survive first contact with reality, and for me things started to go wrong from day one. It was the 90th birthday of my Brough Superior SS80 and I planned to celebrate with a 2,000 mile trip around Portugal and Italy. I’ve got to know the foibles of this bike after 15 years of ownership and thought I’d been pretty thorough, having rebuilt the mag, replaced tyres and chains, checked and greased suspension, replaced cables, etc. I’d put around 300 miles on her around my home town of Hay in the Welsh borders without a hitch and even the dynamo seemed to be generating a feeble but optimistic glow.
David Jackson's 1931 Brough Superior SS80 is a very hi-spec model, with JAP KTC motor, Bentley&Draper rear suspension and Castle forks - rare options for the SS80 model that provide a very comfortable ride and excellent roadholding, but limited ground clearance. [David Jackson]I was cheating a bit – my friend Russell seems to enjoy driving and had taken the bike, together with 8 others, to Porto in a truck. We only had to jump on an Easyjet and meet him there. What I didn’t know was that Portugal did not accept the NHS Covid certificate and I was turned away at the gate. An uncomfortable night in the van at Bristol Airport followed, after which I got tested, and another flight to Lisbon the following day. I had to try to figure out how I could get to Porto, find my bike and catch up with the rest of the group. It had been left at a farm house just outside the city, so after an anxious journey by taxi, tram, tube and train I finally got started by late afternoon, about 8 hours behind the pack.
A clever idea that didn't work: wedging the valve cap in place with pieces of wood. Even the low compression of the sidevalve engine was enough to blow them out. [David Jackson]My head was pounding without sleep, but I thought I’d try to get two hours riding in before dark. The other riders I figured were about 150 miles north over the border with Spain. There was no way I’d get there that night, but decided the next day to head 200 miles straight to the north eastern town of Chaves where they were due the following night and I could stage a surprise interception. After all that hassle perhaps I would only lose a day’s riding. I found a hostel and feeling relieved to be finally making progress, crashed into bed. It was so deep a sleep I was oblivious to the pounding of the overnight rain and the next day saw the place enveloped in cloud and drizzle, every bit as cold as home. One of the features of my Lucas mag is a mysterious short to the frame in bad weather, and Vaseline in great dollops around the pickup is the only cure. I'm still nervous about the magneto in the rain, and I must have slathered on half a tub before I set off that morning. Despite all I was feeling rested and very positive, determined to make the hero’s entrance at the hotel that night. All the same, alone and abroad on an old bike in the cold and wet with no phone reception, every squeak and rattle begins to sound ominously threatening.
Riding a vintage V-twin through the mountains is an experience one remembers for a lifetime. [David Jackson]The north of Portugal is not the Algarve; it is mountainous, thickly forested with spruce trees and has some excellent motorcycling roads which are largely free from traffic. Roads climb and plunge through steep valleys as high as 1000metres and I could really feel the engine richening up, losing power it really couldn’t afford. Throughout the day the rain continued and at times visibility fell to just a couple of hundred yards, but the Brough plodded along happily and I began to feel like I was on holiday. The JAP SS80 engine was already obsolete by 1931. It is a 1000 cc side valve total loss design generating something like 25hp, which consumes about a pint of oil every 100 miles depending how you set the pilgrim pump. The bike itself is a handsome but long slow steering machine of about 220 kgs, with very poor ground clearance. First to ground is the nut securing the footrest, which I’ve learned to use as a kind of skid providing feedback in a corner. They rarely last longer than a day so I always keep a handful in my pocket. Such an underpowered heavy bike with a hand change Sturmey-Archer three-speed gearbox makes the Brough a handful in mountainous terrain. Steep descents depend heavily on engine braking in second. Regular dabbing of the back brake helps, but over use quickly leads to fade and the effects of the front brake are barely discernible. The only thing to do is to plan far ahead, hope the unexpected doesn’t happen and if things get out of hand look for somewhere soft to bail out.
The replacement valve cap in situ, also showing the external shift mechanism of the Sturmey-Archer 3-speed gearbox (an 'ankle shifter'). [David Jackson]The knack of getting the best out of the engine is not to overfeed it with fuel, but to aid its digestion by regular use of the advance retard lever. A hill start for instance means a burst in first at full advance, followed by a panicky hand shift to second, then full retard for a slow pick up gradually advancing the spark as the engine begins to speed up. Missing second is easily done, after which you just grind to a halt and repeat. Uphill switchbacks and hairpins offer a unique challenge; swing it around in second with as much speed as you dare, move to full retard, try to keep momentum and hang off the bike to minimise lean angle whilst trailing a shower of sparks from the unfortunate footrest nut. None of this would have featured in George Brough’s promotional material, but then neither do I ride in with a tie, a Fair Isle sweater and a pipe. With only 20 miles to go, disaster struck. A sharp crack from the engine halfway around a corner and I immediately lost power. Pulling over I noticed a hole in the top of the cylinder - one of the “fir cone” valve coolers had blown off. This was bad news – even if I managed to find the thing it was most likely to have stripped its alloy threads which screw into the harder cast iron head. After a short search by the roadside I found it and sure enough only a couple of threads were intact. I screwed the cooler back in as best I could knowing it wouldn’t last long, and within a mile sure enough it blew again, this time ripping off what remained of the threads. Being so close I was determined to make it to the hotel under my own steam, nursing the bike along at 20-30 mph on one pot. One cylinder pulled okay without it having to fight the compression of the other but with a hole to atmosphere downstream of the carb I was very wary of it offering too weak a mixture and potentially damaging the front pot too.
Repaired an under way! Testing the Brough Superior's road-holding around mountain corners on the MotoGiro. [David Jackson]I arrived in a haze of smoke and oil, relieved to be amongst friends and we set about thinking about how to repair the cooler. It’s not a complicated thing – a large 2 inch diameter alloy nut with 16 tpi threads would do the trick – something which could easily be knocked up in 30 minutes on a lathe. The best idea came from Nick, a carpenter by trade, who thought he could hold the old cooler in place with wooden wedges placed between it and the bottom of the tank. The hotel staff kindly obliged and we set to work in their workshop. By 10pm that night Nick had quite skilfully put together a series of interlocking blocks holding the cone in place and I tightened the tank down to increase the pressure on the top of the cone. It was a crackpot idea but the best we had. I took a tentative swing on the kickstart. Suffice to say an explosion at 6 bar of compression smashed the whole lot to pieces and I was lucky not to ruin my fuel tank. It was not to be. Accepting defeat we loaded the broken Brough on the truck and I joined a couple of other casualties in a hired Fiat Panda. Stewart had fried the ignition on his 1960s MV Augusta and Clive had seized the engine on his Triumph Terrier. We had a pleasant couple of days touring the spectacular Douro Valley in our Panda jealously watching the other riders enjoying themselves.
MotoGiro particpants: combined age 260 years for a pair of Rudge Ulsters and the 1931 Brough Superior SS80. Vintage motorcycling at its best. [David Jackson]My thoughts were turning to the next leg: the Motogiro Rally of Italy which was beginning just over a week later. I really wanted to take the Brough – it would be its third completed Motogiro and it had become a bit of a celebrity there. Most Italians have heard of Lawrence of Arabia and it always seems to attract attention. I spoke to Mark Upham in Austria and he agreed to send a couple of fir cones out straight away, but you can never tell with post Brexit customs and I wasn’t sure I’d get them in time. I decided to get one made anyway and I watched fascinated as my local machine shop knocked one up in about 20 minutes. It was big and ugly, but it did the job and a week later, thanks again to Russell and his truck, there I was in Rimini on the Adriatic coast ready to start stage two. The Motogiro d’Italia has been an annual fixture since the 1950s, originally established to race small capacity Italian machines over 1000 miles of the toughest terrain in Italy. It is still a big deal: the organisers select different courses each year and carefully signpost the route ahead. There are stops organised roughly every hour, and local people come out in force to spoil us with pizza, cakes and sandwiches, often in beautiful medieval squares otherwise closed to traffic. Oh and wine, from 10 am throughout the day. A few mounted Carabinieri police accompany us, often shepherding us through traffic with sirens blazing. It all makes you feel very special.
Wild in the streets: the Brough leads a Rudge Ulster through a town on the MotoGiro. [David Jackson]Nowadays bikes of all ages are welcomed but its heart is still old 1950s Italian tiddlers, and the winner must come from a prescribed list of machines. Around 20-30 Brits made it this year out of, I guess, about 120 riders from all over Europe and the US. A special “vintage” pre-war category had been created for me and Jeremy, also from Hay, who rides a 1936 Rudge Ulster. Jeremy and I tend to ride together but are fiercely competitive and up to this year had each won it once. Another Brit joined us in the vintage category also on a Rudge together with a nice old Italian on an a Moto Guzzi Falcone. By the end of the first day the Italian was way ahead of us on points and we guessed this year he was pre-destined to win. It’s a mystery, but it often seems to work that way. With apologies to George again I have to say a 1936 Rudge Ulster is streets ahead of a 1931 Brough Superior both in design and quality. A drip free alloy cast primary drive, four overhead valves, a four speed foot change box, a circulating oil system, interlinked brakes which work, a light short wheelbase flickable frame, about 10hp more from half the capacity and a bike you could buy for a fifth of the price. I could go on. But as Richard Thomson says it doesn’t have the soul of a Brough 31.
A Triumph Terrier under a punishing rally schedule and torturous roads? Only for the brave (ie, Clive). [David Jackson]The first day was a wash out. It rained torrentially and got worse the higher we climbed. Off the main highways the roads were in dreadful condition, with large land slips to the sides, strange undulating ripples and huge nut crunching potholes often lurking around blind bends. Choose your line and speed on the Brough and you must stick to it, whatever lies ahead. A dry afternoon spell brightened things up until - wham! - the front end washed out and I found myself sliding across the oncoming lane at 20 mph towards the Armco. The brunt of the damage was to my dignity and the poor old footrest, but looking at the road, my speed and impact point I can honestly say there seemed no reason why it happened. I don’t mind falling off due to my own idiocy but its unsettling when you suddenly find yourself on your arse and don’t know why. A lorry was labouring uphill and 20 seconds later I would have been under its wheels. On the first day too – but either I was going to spend the next six days worrying myself into a neurotic mess or I was going to pretend it never happened. I banned Jeremy from laughing about it until after the trip and we carried on.
An impressive Doric facade dwarfs a legion of riders, but that's Italy - the architecture is amazing. This is likely a pagan temple converted to a church perhaps 1800 years ago. [David Jackson]Who else should be at the start line by the way but Clive on his Terrier, who had found an equally knackered spare engine on his shed shelf and hastily installed it for Italy. Whatever my woes, I always consoled myself that Clive’s lot was infinitely worse. A big man, he was always to be found in the 121st position of the pack, hunched mournfully over his machine labouring up yet another mountain billowing smoke. Each night found him spannering in the car park, head and piston akimbo and surrounded by helpful advice. A sheared rocker feed and lost cover ended with him directly injecting oil into the exposed valve springs by syringe every ten miles or so. I’m surprised that wasn’t a feature of JAPs. The next six days blended into a whirlwind of magnificent countryside, good weather and ancient but seldom visited Italian towns. Some days were as long as 8-9 hours riding, with little time to grab a sandwich en-route. The condition of the roads, together with the fact that you are always busy on a Brough, left little chance to look up and enjoy the scenery. The relentless pace of the event is perhaps its only drawback, but the compensation is that you don’t have to map read and are led through some marvellous country which few visitors know exist. We criss-crossed the Apennines numerous times, from the Adriatic to the Med, back and forth, up and down, at one time through the snowline with the temperature falling to 3 degrees. Altitude stretched the Brough’s slender reserves of power to its limit, and at one stage it refused to pull in top gear at all.
Twisting roads though the Italian hills are the norm on the Motogiro. [David Jackson]No day was entirely incident free. I snapped my rear brake cable twice, one of the things I’d carefully made up in my shed before the trip. The bike is hair raising enough with a rear brake, but losing it adds entirely new layers of excitement. Without brakes you have to time your entry onto an Italian roundabout between vehicles, as if you were shuffling a deck of cards. A mountainous descent felt like a dance with death. I kept thinking about pilots on the western front, fluttering to earth in a spinning string bag and how much worse life was for them. Jeremy and I tried our best to make another cable, only for it to fail again. I don’t know the reason why, the frayed soldered thistle just pulled its way out of the nipple on both occasions. Perhaps I’d been using softer electrical solder, it’s something I will look into. At one stage we were concerned that Nawal, the other guy with a Rudge and aged in his 70s, had failed to appear by 9pm. It had got dark three hours earlier, he had lost the course, fallen off and smashed his helmet visor. His eyes streaming with cold he had navigated home on mountain tracks using the light from his phone. We had to laugh. There is a special bond which develops between people on the Giro and by the end of it you feel you have been in a bubble of kind, funny, adventurous, like-minded people you are sad to see go.
In the end, it's all about the connections you make with people that make international travel rewarding. [David Jackson]Finally the last day came, my rear brake cable snapped once more and it was with relief and exhaustion that the bike and I plodded over the finish line back at Rimini. The poor old girl had completed 1100 miles in 6 days on terrible roads, was starting to oil its plugs and misfire, was burning a lot more oil than usual and was generally ready to give up. It felt like I’d been bullying an elderly dowager through an assault course and she seemed not to appreciate her birthday treat. I myself may never walk normally again. But the prize for sheer British pluck must go to the indefatigable Clive and his Terrier, whose arrival in that tell-tale cloud of blue smoke was heralded by applause and back slapping from all nationalities. He looked ready to throw the bloody thing in a skip. The best bit? I beat Jeremy on points.
