Being into 1950s Rock & Roll, and living the lifestyle, it sounded just what I needed to establish my street credibility as a fledgling rocker aged 22. All the older guys would have to give me grudging respect and I fantasized of the girls to be had once they saw my huge Norton 850, compared to the biggest bike in the car park, a Triumph Bonnie Export 750.
Off I went to the garage to look at the bike. It didn’t look good for a three year old machine. Ratty finish on everything, oil drip tray underneath... but was I put off? No way. What an idiot I was. I was stupid enough to pay the asking price of £950. Lloyds bank refused me a loan, so it was yet more HP. I picked the wreck up being very nervous of riding it and trying not to show it. How the mechanics kept a straight face I don’t know. What unnerved me was the vibration at idle - the whole bike shook!
The neutral light didn’t work which didn’t help. Oh god, let me get it home, please! It stalled at some traffic lights in rush hour traffic. Damn, what if I can’t get it going again, I'll look a right prat. Don’t ask me how but I kick started it to life. Yes, it’s supposed to have an electric start but I knew in advance they're a waste of time. Despite the look on my mother’s face at the arrival of this rumbling wreck I was still on Cloud 9 at ownership of such a respected bike. Such a famous marque, I'll be able to wear t-shirts with Norton on and be befriended by British bike bigots.
And so it was that I went to the Midland Hotel in Manchester one Saturday - the place for Rock & Roll with live bands. I was the centre of attention for owning a big British bike, I was King Rocker. Funny how the most big mouthed bores about British bikes wearing leather studded jackets with Triumph buckled belts didn’t and hadn't ever owned one!
When I woke up out of this dream world I had a solicitor write a letter about oil leaks, non working warning lights, bald rear tyre. I even had a report done by motor engineers on its condition when it was back at the garage, which wasn’t much use as they said the bike couldn't be started due to a duff battery (only much later did I realise the Norton didn’t need a battery to get it started). They got the lights working and fitted a new rear tyre but they couldn't stop the oil leaks. I gave up and determined to learn about the bike and do things myself. After all, Rockers are supposed to be able to strip their bikes down and rebuild them in a spare afternoon...
Why did I stick with it for four years? Because I thought I‘d get it all sorted and I was hooked on it being a Norton. I spent hours polishing the bike, especially those gleaming alloy footrest brackets - I’ve never polished a bike so much since. First problem was the kickstart shaft slipping thanks to worn splines. I fitted a new kickstart pawl, return spring and kickstart shaft - an easy enough operation, with the aid of a Haynes manual, for a novice spanner twiddler.
I also had a go at balancing the Amal carbs - throttle slides and cable adjustment first then idle and mixture screws. I soon got good enough to dismantle the carbs completely and rebuild them with rubber, viton tipped float needles. An annoying continual rear wheel puncture caused me to suspect vandalism by young louts on the council estate where I lived but it was traced to the chrome flaking off the inside wheel rim and spiking the inner tube. I had both wheels rebuilt with stainless steel spokes and nipples as well as new rims no more mysterious punctures.
While the rear tyre was out for rebuilding I decided to remove the swinging arm as there was play attributable to very worn bushes. Easier said than done. I couldn't find any nut holding the swinging arm spindle in place. The Haynes manual was of no use, so I had to buy an official Norton workshop manual - not cheap. It explained that you pierced the end caps covering the spindle ends and also removed two rubber plugs which covered cotter pins which held the spindle fast. New oil impregnated bushes were fitted, but only after I filed them down. I also had to replace the shocks, the chain and the sprockets.
I was getting into the swing of things, so decided to totally strip the bike and renovate it. I got the frame, swinging arm and yokes bead blasted and stoved, the huge five gallon tank and metal side panels were resprayed gloss black. Rocker covers, side stand, coil brackets and timing cover were chromed. Some of the chrome and stove enamelling flaked off so I had it done again.
If the bike was looking superb by the time I traded it for a Suzuki GS1000, its cosmetic renovation had done little for its basic reliability. Where shall I start? Despite my new found mechanical confidence it didn’t extend to setting the timing. This was left to various friends of friends who, to a man, just couldn’t set the gap so that it would open at the right point. Eventually, the skill of a Brit bike veteran sorted that out. He also taught me how to get it to start first kick - a skill that deserted me as soon as I had an audience.
Next, the tappet clearances wouldn’t set. Upon the cylinder head being taken off it was found that one of the pushrods was shorter than its companion on the other cylinder. No wonder the camshaft was well and truly shagged with a big wide groove carved in the lobe. Before this was sorted, the bike had always felt like it was about to blow up at 80mph... after all this effort it felt exactly the same!
The Norton Lockheed calipers were crap. I replaced the rear one when it had seized half on. Later, the front one started to go the same way after I’d rebuilt it with new pistons and seals. Due to the master cylinder starting to leak due to a perished seal, I replaced the master cylinder piston and seals. I'd replaced the aging rubber brake hose with the usual Goodridge for a better braking response.
Next the speedo gearbox went, another costly part. I‘d replaced the capacitors and ballast resistor and the indicator flasher unit. Yes, the indicators did have a habit of coming loose and swivelling upwards which is useful for frightening off aliens. Despite using copper gaskets I never could stop the cylinder head from weeping oil. The gearbox leaked, the crankcase dripped, the primary chain case dribbled although using two gaskets helped.
I became quite good at clutch dismantling - I didn’t have any choice in the matter! I can't write about tyre wear as the bike was never on the road long enough to wear them out. I did have to replace the front Avon tyre for the MOT as the tyre was so old the rubber was going rotten. The spark plug holes had to be helicoiled, some bolts would snap before you got to the correct tightening torque - most annoying! I just couldn't get enough clearance between the rotor and its housing, whilst the studs holding the alternator stator stripped their threads. This was getting tedious.
After four years of ownership I threw in the towel. I'd had enough. I‘d done my best to no avail. The bike looked fantastic but it just wouldn’t top 80mph without feeling like it was going to blow up. I loved the sound of the bike. I loved its looks and I've never proudly polished any bike as often as that Norton. I still wonder if I should've persevered and introduced all the mods that are now suggested - Boyer ignition, belt primary drive, single carb conversion, etc. But why should I spend a fortune just to have a reliable bike? It must be admitted that the bike had had four owners in three years before I bought it and looked like a wreck, so let's accept that this one hadn't been looked after by its previous owners. Still, this is one myth free, older, wiser Jap bike riding Rocker of 31.
Dave Vincent