Tuesday 10 December 2019

Triumph 650 Tiger


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 80000 plus miles, regularly rebuilt engine and stack of modifications. The frame, with the oil in the top tube, had been re-welded 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 gear change 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 380ibs 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 a top speed of around 105mph; 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 than! had expected.
 

The kick start 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 brake hard with the front drum 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 that 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 recur - 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 20000 miles in less than two years, breaking through the 100000 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 very 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 span 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 engine 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.