I was a reluctant recruit to British biking. It just so happened that a 1972 Triumph 650 Tiger was on offer. The owner was a close acquaintance, quite open about the machine's 80,000 plus miles, regularly rebuilt engine and stack of modifications. The frame, with the oil in the top tube, had been rewelded where it had fractured. The whole bike was rewired after dud insulation caused it to catch fire. At one point the main bearings had gone, writing off the crankshaft. The owner was amazingly sanguine about the machine's problems but assured me that there was not much left to go wrong with it.
I had the Tiger for a day, an extended test ride to see whether or not I could live with the machine after a decade's worth of Japanese hacks. Immediate worries were the gearchange and back brake pedals on the wrong side, a heavy, abrupt clutch and a seat that sagged on to the frame rails. The Tiger is the mild brother to the Bonnie, with a single carb cylinder head, although the cams and compression ratio were the same. I initially scoffed at its 43hp at a mere 6500rpm, but was pleasantly surprised by the gutsy nature of the engine from tickover onwards.
Doubtless, weighing in at only 380lbs helps with the heady dollop of torque, the Triumph quite happily powering off in top gear (fourth) from as little as 25mph. With a 0 to 60mph time of around seven seconds (at least when new), the Tiger proved no slouch against most other vehicles. I soon found myself able to power up to 90mph in third, although at those kind of revs the machine was blitzed by vibes and relieved when booted up to top. A brief sortie on the motorway revealed top speed around 105mph, and relatively vibration free cruising at 75 to 80mph.
In that first day I did about 200 miles, was impressed with the general usability of the Tiger and even more pleased when I worked out the fuel economy at 65mpg! The chassis has a light but taut feel, although the apparently original shocks did let the back end twitch slightly over bumpy going. The engine had been assembled with modern liquid gasket so there were only a few smears of oil, rather than the puddle that used to be par for the course for British bikes.
Thanks to the electronic ignition fitted by the owner, starting was less difficult that I had expected. The kickstart lever was perfectly matched to my inside leg and the 9:1 compression ratio did not cause any hassle. The carb had to be tickled but the choke could be ignored. It was also necessary to free the clutch, by sticking the machine in gear and kicking the engine over with the clutch pulled in (before starting the bike). Failure to do this meant clutch drag would cause the machine to leap forward a couple of yards and stall the engine. I usually managed to light the fires on the first or second kick.
The bike had been painted quite well in black and, er, black, looking rather neat in its stripped down and cleaned up way. Nearly as much street cred as a Harley, I thought, after handing over 600 sovs. The owner had warned me that the valves needed doing every 500 miles, the oil changed every 1000 miles and that the TLS front drum brake worked either brilliantly or diabolically, depending on how well it was set up.
The Tiger has those conical hub brakes that look so pretty but the front used the cable as part of the operating system (the outer being compressed), and there is an adjuster in the hub that needs tweaking every few hundred miles. The shoes don't last much more than 5000 miles. When well set up they are very powerful stoppers yet extremely sensitive, you can haul ass with the front brake just short of locking up the wheel. Fade hasn't been a problem and they have saved me from a dose of tarmac rash on too many occasions to note.
The brakes are part of the surprisingly integrated feel that the 650 possesses.....or perhaps it isn't so surprising given the long period of evolution that went into these Triumph twins. The huge 19" front wheel gives the machine reasonable stability for the straight road circus, whilst the relatively low mass and centre of gravity (from the narrow engine aspect) ensures it can still be flicked through the corners as easily as most Japanese 250 twins.
I did find the centre-stand scraped through the more outrageous bends, but the solution was easy - tear it off. The stand was, anyway, difficult to use. The bike came with Dunlop tyres, which wore well (over 12000 miles at either end) and provided no cause for concern even in the most vile of weather. Although the bike had caused many problems for its past owner he had gone out of his way to ensure they did not reoccur - for instance, the coils and exposed ignition wiring were covered in a thick layer of black bitumen-like substance that insured the bike did not falter when drenched.
Other minor mods abounded - extra rubber mounting to the lights, hugely powerful horn, wired in bolts and nuts just about everywhere, etc. I know a lot of people have a great deal of trouble from Triumph twins, especially when they have been rebuilt a few times, but my bike did over 20,000 miles in less than two years, breaking through the 100,000 mile barrier in the process, with the kind of reliability that you'd expect from a newish Honda Superdream (no, that was a compliment not an insult).
It wasn't perfect. At this kind of price and age level nothing ever is. Oil started weeping out of the frame, rather than doing a welding job I bought a new frame - yes, they are still available. It was a weekend's work to rebuild the bike. Then the back wheel's spokes started breaking up, which did really weird things to the handling. I had both wheels rebuilt with alloy rims and stainless spokes - with polished hubs a significant improvement in appearance, but putting tyres on alloy rims is a horrible business.
Third gear also decided it did not like working any more, which means I have to spin the motor up to 60mph in second before bumping the box up two gears to top, if I really want to make waves. Probably my own fault as I did not realise the gearbox had its own oil supply until it was about to run dry! Prior to this the change was surprisingly precise, although of a firmness to demand heavyweight footwear.
The new seat I proudly fitted to the machine, days after purchase, fell to pieces after about 2000 miles, so I made up my own using a GRP kit to make a new base and raiding an old sofa for foam. It's more comfortable than it looks. Other bits affected by the vibes, always present to some degree even in this most mild of vertical twins, were the ignition switch (in the side-panel), an exhaust downpipe (which fractured) and the front mudguard which spat off at high velocity!
The nature of the vibration is rather strange and not at all like that produced by Japanese machines. The engine is always grumbling away to itself but after a while the vibes produced by the long stroke motor fade into the background, unless you do something silly like try to spin the motor past 6500rpm in the lower gears. I have gone wild in the country a few times, but high revs (in Triumph terms) leads to excessive consumption of both oil and fuel (40mpg!), as well as a petrol tank that feels like it's ready to leap off the frame. I soon dropped my, Japanese inspired, rev it until it dies philosophy in favour of a more laid back approach - Zen and the art of riding a Triumph, Man!
With good fuel consumption, minimal wear of consumables and more than enough power for even modern roads, the Tiger copes with just about everything I've thrown at it. From the daily commute through a congested city centre to 500 miles a day touring on the Continent. My friends are continuously amazed at the way the motor keeps on running. But be warned, one was so impressed that he went out and bought a T140V, but sold it after three months as it broke down every time he used it. I've evidently got a good one and I intend to hang on to it!
H.K.
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I first saw the Triumph parked in the street. Only five years and 15000 miles old, the big twin shone in the bright sunlight. None of that crap Jap alloy, plastic or chrome. Here was the real thing in all its black and red glory. The first time I saw the Triumph I wanted it with almost sexual lust. I couldn't stop myself swinging a leg over her!
'Here, mate, what the f..k do ya think yer doing!?' The owner, all worn leathers and denim, had to take that exact moment to come out of whatever sewer he was lodging in. Well, it seemed like he just popped up out of nowhere and the smell was more disturbing than his appearance. I muttered an abject apology and asked if he wanted to sell the bike. He did. A brief if terrifying blast on the back convinced me that all was well and a day later 1500 notes changed hands.
Being a trusting kind of chap I didn't test the bike again before handing over the money and didn't suspect that the name in the logbook bore no relationship to the person I bought the bike off! What I think had happened was that overnight he'd taken all the good parts out of the engine and replaced them with near wrecked bits. That's the only way I can explain the churning vibes and lethargic performance. On the test ride I'd been impressed with the way the bike had hit 90mph, now it didn't want to do more than 60mph!
After a five mile ride I came back home with shaking hands and wrecked vision. When I put the Tiger on its sidestand the stand broke off at its mounting and the bike bounced on my driveway. Putting it on its centrestand was a back breaking affair and it felt rather precarious, as if that stand was going to break off as well. Huge gobs of oil dropped on to the drive, sending my wife into a frenzy of abuse. I was close to breaking point by then, but kicking the cat had to suffice as the wife was bigger than me!
I played around with the ignition and the plugs, pulled the fuel pipe, ever hopeful of an easy solution. I tightened up the engine bolts as they were loose but two bolts snapped off and one stripped its threads. By the time I'd found some replacements the drive was covered in an oil slick!
The Triumph uses a large diameter frame member running from the headstock down to the swinging arm, curving gracefully over the engine. It's a neat bit of design that even survives in the new Triumph triples and fours. However, in the twins it contains the engine oil and under the influence of the chronic primary vibes from the big vertical twin engine it can crack up.
After I'd taken off the cycle parts and removed the engine, some very nasty looking cracks were revealed in the frame. Things turned even more ominous when I stripped down the engine - cracked cylinder head, burn out exhaust valves, bent pushrods, ruined bores, loose big-ends, elastic primary chain, wrecked clutch and a few other minor things. In effect, the bike was close to being a complete write-off!
The wife had a grand old time abusing me for being a total sucker, so I sold off her Mini for 500 notes and started visiting autojumbles. It's surprising what you can find here. One chap wanted to sell me a 'new' frame, still wrapped in cardboard. When I pulled some of this off it revealed even more cracks than my own frame. I was determined not to be ripped off twice and over three months I managed to buy most of the parts secondhand at lowish prices.
The rebuild took just a week. I'd paid for a rebore to match used pistons and rings, and bought a pattern gasket set. Total cost was £525 which included a good secondhand frame. Tigers in immaculate condition do fetch over £2000 so I wasn't yet too much out of pocket.
Of course, the engine refused to start for the first five days. The Tiger, despite its mild tune, needs one hell of a kick and more than twenty attempts left me knackered. Brand new plugs, heated to near melting point over the gas-stove, did the trick and left me with bandaged hands from handling them - the things we do for wheels!
I feared that the bad starting was the result of a poor rebuild, but the bike had plenty of guts up to 90mph, would even put 115mph on the clock. Alas, using more than 5000 revs brought in incredible levels of vibes. A taste of this was seen in the way the Triumph shuffled across the tarmac when at tickover on the centrestand. The front guard also twitched away in rhythm with the buzzing.
The seat was remote from the vibes and was very comfortable, almost armchair-like. Just as well, because the stiff suspension only had a couple of inches of travel that did little to remove the bumps and potholes. The steering was steady and on Roadrunners the chassis was secure. At around 400lbs it was quite flickable but always heavy going. It was the kind of bike you could grow into and learn to love.
If it wasn't for the engine. Okay, the components weren't brand, spanking new and I'm not the best mechanic in the whole world (but the motors are supposed to be easy to work on, aren't they) but it took less than 800 miles for some major traumas to turn up.
It happened at the beginning of the winter, just as I was congratulating myself on my choice of machine - the Tiger felt really secure on the slimy road surfaces. Crunching noises started to come from the engine, sounding like metal was breaking up. The primary chain had broken up, mangling the tensioner and then wrapping itself around the crankshaft.
That was bad enough but the sudden loss of speed allowed a car to back end me. The bike and I slid down the road in different directions. I'm sure the cager swerved at me, or perhaps he was just avoiding the bouncing bike. Anyway, I sort of threw myself off the road, rolled into a ditch and then head-butted a large rock. Fortunately, my helmet was cracked rather than my skull. I was a bit dazed as I pulled myself back up on to the road. No less than six cars had skidded into each other and the bloody bike had no more damage than a few bent ancillaries - I was hoping it was written off and I could claim on the insurance.
The end result of that little incident was that the insurance company refused to renew my premium, doubtless putting a black mark against my name for the rest of my life. A newish primary chain and tensioner were duly secured and I was back on the road within a week. I had absolutely no faith in the Triumph, though, even if it wasn't too expensive on fuel, about 60mpg. 500 mile services and daily bolt tightening were tedious, especially when clowns on Superdreams, and the like, kept screaming past at unlikely speeds.
After one vicious effort with the throttle, to see off a CX500, I pulled over to have a much needed cigarette. The cylinder was jumping up and down because its retaining nuts had started to come undone. The vibes really were insidious, short of installing the mill in a Commando frame there was no easy way of eliminating them. I couldn't take any more, after 1300 miles wanted shot of the bike.
There is a happy ending to this tale of dread. The Triumph looked beautiful, an excess of gloss, despite everything. Some suited gent turned up and insisted on giving me £2500. I almost got down on my knees to give thanks for my good fortune. The wife almost smiled at me until I went out and bought a '68 Bonnie...
V.N.M.