There's nothing quite like sticking to a marque come what may. I've been a Triumph man since the sixties started off with one of those nifty Tiger Cubs and rapidly moved up to the big twins. Two machines from that period have stayed in my garage all this time, a neat Tiger 500 and a rather wayward Bonnie, tuned to the hilt but only sometimes all the better for it.
It needed to be with all the high performance Jap crap of the seventies and eighties on the road. I got my own back, in the end, by buying one of the new Triumph 1200 Trophys. Now I can be proud to ride British iron and keep up with just about everything else on the road. The older Triumphs have not been neglected, as they each have their own particular tune to offer.
The 1969 Triumph T100 quickly found a special place in my heart. It was practically brand new when I acquired it. in beautiful condition, having done less than 1000 miles. From a distance it looked pretty much the same as any late sixties Bonnie, to my mind always the most beautiful looking Triumph. The engine was the single carb version of their then ubiquitous OHV twin. Displacing a mere 490cc with a 9:1 compression ratio. power was a very mild 35 horses at 7000mm.
At the time, a hard ridden Honda CB250 twin would have given the Tiger problems, they both sharing a 95 to 100mph top speed and the ability to gallop along at 80 to 85mph. However, the Tiger's willingness to rev was combined with a lot more low speed punch than the rev-it-until-it-dies Honda.
Other benefits included chassis components that were basically set up for the 120mph Bonnie model, so coped well with the milder Tiger, although by modern standards the suspension travel, or lack thereof, is very crude, but it still manages to hold a line and the 350lb machine can be tossed through the bends with all the ease of most Jap 250s.
What endeared the T100C to me more than anything was the effortless way it ate up the miles and the sheer versatility of its nature. As happy potterlng around town as it was blasting down motorways or cutting a path though, the back lanes. Unlike my other Triumph, vibes were not too intrusive and maintenance chores confined to 1250 mlle sessions. One or two bolts did show a need to come undone in the early days, but once wired in position they started to behave themselves.
Although the Tiger is equipped with speedo and tacho there's hardly any need to consult them - the bark of the motor always indicates how hard pressed is the engine and how fast the bike is going. The Tiger is always communicating its state of health to the rider.
I am quite meticulous about maintenance and oil changes, don't use more than 7000 revs (only an idiot would as the harshness of the vibes indicates the motor does not like it), and try to keep the machine looking smart. Thus, in twenty years I have done 38000 miles without having to do anything serious to the insides of the engine (alas, I have a car for the family which takes up too much of my time).
The great appeal of the Tiger is its simplicity, both in its engine and its lines. A friendly and reliable nature more than makes up for any lack of speed. The Bonnie is the complete opposite, with a highly tuned motor running, in a similar chassis to the Tiger. If the two bikes did not look so similar they could easily be the products of two different factories.
The Rickman top end consists of an eight valve head and new cylinders plus high compression pistons that increase the capacity from 649cc to 680cc. Over 60 horses at 7000rpm were claimed for this conversion. The bottom end was basically stock, although l eventually up-rated the oil pump.
The machine was basically a standard 1968 model to which I'd fitted the Rickman bits in 1973, becoming tired of being burnt off the road by youths on Japanese rubbish. The bike weighed in at about 370Ibs, so the power to weight ratio was better than anything the Japs had on offer, even up to the early eighties.
Even a stock Bonnie is a gutsy machine up to about 110mph, so after carefully running in the new engine for 3000 miles, I was not that surprised to find that the acceleration was scintillating enough to put those enormous CB750 fours in their proper place. It was real arm straining stuff.
As was the handling. Both the swinging arm and the suspension objected to this new found energy. Rolling on the power in corners had the back end waltzing in a way that made a mockery of all the myths surrounding fine handling Brit bikes. Even on the flat the bike went into vicious weaves come 120mph!
One thing that did surprise me was that the mill was appreciably smoother than the old one, despite the increase in capacity. What had been a filling threatening 90mph buzz turned out to be a nice and smooth cruising speed.
The one initial disappointing area of the Rickman engine was fuel economy which was for then a quite heavy 32 to 45mpg. The stock motor did 40to 60mpg, whilst the good old Tiger did an exceptional 55 to 80mpg!
For about 6000 miles I had the time of my life on the Rickman. I'd fitted some better shocks and heavier springs, which tamed most of the chassis nastiness. Both the Tiger and the Bonnie share TLS front drums which are both powerful and sensitive, but though more than adequate for the 500 and passable on a stock Bonnie, was a bit lost on the Rickman, as it faded from speeds greater than 90mph something chronic. Racing linings were tried but proved so vicious in the wet that I could not tolerate them, so had to suffer the fade in silent bouts of horror.
After the euphoria of the first few months, I was annoyed to find that the main bearings had failed, rumbling like an old washing machine. That was when I put in a better oil pump, because the rockers and cams were also showing signs of wear. I went to the trouble of having the rebuilt crankshaft dynamically balanced which made the motor smoother still, but if all the performance was used it still demanded a rebuild every 8 to 10000 miles. As the whole point of the bike was to see off the Jap challengers in a heroic fight against the mass invasion, performance was used all the time!
At times i was forced to seek refuge in my car (British, naturally), whilst the Bonnie was being rebuilt. There was nothing wrong with the Tiger, just that I liked it so much I didn't want to risk thrashing it, so sometimes had problems holding off screaming 125s!
I could have blown a wedge on an 850 Commando or 750 Trident but neither of these bikes appealed, the Trident as overweight as most Jap fours and the Commando so unreliable when tuned that not even the most patriotic could make excused for it's eccentricities.
By the end of the seventies and beginning of the eighties I was beginning to tire of the fight, but absolutely determined not to buy any foreign rubbish. The car got used more and more, the Triumphs kept for pleasurable weekends and occasional holidays. When prices went crazy I was even tempted to sell both machines, only a couple of friends who were British bike fanatics persuaded me to hold on to the twins.
It wasn't until the late eighties that l started using the bikes seriously again. The roads had become so congested that going to work on a motorcycle suddenly made a lot at sense.
Then, of course, rumours about the new Triumphs started to appear. l was not convinced that any machines would ever emerge, having heard too many times of the rebirth of the British motorcycle industry. Then, suddenly, as it by magic, there were Triumphs for sale in the showrooms. They were modern, the factory was actually doing some hard engineering rather than just assembling other countries' bits and I liked their looks. I have never bought a new bike and had no intention of starting. however much I wanted a reborn Triumph, so I stalked the used market tor about a year until a Triumph 1200 Trophy turned up for a reasonable price.
The huge water-cooled tour cylinder engine developed a mind warping 125hp at 9000rpm. Which in itself was a massive step tor me to take. Even more worrying, the bike weighed in at about 560lbs with some fuel in the tank and oil in the engine.
The test ride had consisted of being taken for a wild blast on the pillion. The owner had taken one look at me and decided there was no way he was going to entrust his pristine machine to an emaciated ancient, whose arrival on a Tiger 100C did not impress one tiny bit. He agreed to ride the machine to my house a few days later where I handed over a huge stack of fifties much to the wife‘s dismay.
Early the next morning, when there were no witnesses about, I set out on the magnificent Trophy, my ears still ringing from the rather shrill way the nearest and dearest had threatened to dial 999 it I wasn't back by eleven. Within moments l felt right at home on the bike, everything tell so smooth and controlled that as soon as there was a little bit of momentum gained the massive mass faded into the background. The only thing I objected to was the racing poise of the riding position, which hurt both wrists and neck.
I soon forgot all about that, having lost myself in the six speed gearbox I came to a long, deserted straight, where l wrenched on the throttle, expecting to be rapidly hurtled forward. My whole body was viciously jerked backwards as the gentle growl turned into a terrifying wait, what had been a long straight suddenly disappearing to be replaced by a rather sharp left-hander. I was unsure it I should have been grinning or screaming.
As can be imagined, used as l was to sixties drums, the power of the triple discs was almost as alarming as the acceleration (in what turned out to be third gear).
Still, they lost a huge amount of speed, almost scorching the tyres. I knew that after that experience the Trophy would take some getting used to, but also that the process would prove to be a most enjoyable one. Wrenching my back, trying to reverse the machine into my garage later that day, gave pause for thought, although the centre stand proved relatively easy to use.
The main problem was every time I went to use one of the older Triumphs, I had to get used to their characteristics all over again, not particularly helped by having the gear and brake levers on different sides. On a couple of occasions, overtaking cars, I've managed to think the older bikes would cover the distance only to find that I'd misjudged their power, so used, so quickly, had I become to the Trophy's abundance.
In a way it's made me realise all the fun I could have had on some more modern bike in the eighties, but I'm determined to make up for lost time. Already, I've done a continental tour of about 4000 miles. The bike ran fine, except that it went through a set of tyres and needed a couple of oil changes (I'm still doing them at 1250 miles despite what the handbook might suggest). I blasted the bike up to 150mph on a German autobahn, revelling in its stability and smoothness. It still wasn't flat out at that speed but I didn't have the bottle to try for more.
If I had to sell one of my bikes it would be the Rickman Bonnie, mostly because I don't need its speed and am tiring of its need for constant care and attention - the more time I spend on the Trophy, which can be thrashed with apparent impunity, the less I am inclined towards weekends sorting the older Triumphs.
The 500 Tiger, on the other hand, has been so durable that I can‘t ever see myself parting with it; it's still a lovely way to spend quiet weekends exploring the back lanes.
Whichever bike I use, though, I always come home with a big grin that sets me up for whatever may follow during the rest of the day.
Henry Wilson