Triumph Bonneville Executive

As a youngster I completely fell in love with British bikes. I now know that love is blind but marriage is an eye opener. It was something about the shape, those beautiful curves. And the sound they made. When one is coming I know it’s a Triumph long before I see it. Then there was the patriotism and national pride. Backing the underdog - especially when it’s produced in your own country. If only I had spoken to someone who had actually owned one.

So at the age of eighteen, having missed the last of my true dream bikes - the Norton Commando - by about two years, it was off to a nearby Triumph dealer with every penny of my hard earned savings. £2275 purchased a T140ES Bonneville Executive. Smoke red paint with matching quarter fairing, top box and panniers, five spoke alloy wheels, electric start and electronic ignition.

From the day I rode it home it never felt really right and, of course, it did leak. The oil came from somewhere in the cylinder head or rocker box area. In more than 15 top end strip downs I never found where it came from and the oil burned itself on to the carbs and head, making a filthy, uncleanable mess.

First major problem became apparent at the end of running in, on a trip to Scotland. As the cruising speed increased up to 70, 75, 80mph, I found that it began to consume a pint of oil every 100 miles. Back at the dealers they diagnosed naff scraper rings and incorrectly shaped piston ring grooves. They were eventually replaced under warranty - the new pistons had D shaped grooves and a one piece scraper ring with a spring expander. It still used oil but at a more acceptable level.

The engine ran hot and very roughly. When I checked the timing with a strobe I got a fright - rather than a white line to line up to the pointer there was an half inch long blurr. No wonder it wouldn’t run properly. Two ignition amplifier boxes later we gave up on Lucas electronic ignition as a very, very bad job. When stripped down at 10000 miles it was necessary to rebore it and the valve guides were well worn out. New cam followers were also purchased. I knew something was seriously wrong when I pulled out the oil filter and found an half inch build up of metal chunks the size of finger nail clippings. The starter clutch assembly had broken up, the teeth on the starter motor final drive gear were bent and the solenoid, not surprisingly, had packed up ages ago.

My brother rewired the bike to incorporate a set of points and at last we had a chance of tuning the engine properly. Would it go? Would it fuck. Off to the dealers with the bike in the back of a pick-up truck. Two weeks later it was running well on one cylinder. What about the other one, I enquired and was told that all I’d asked was to just get it going for the minimum of dosh - and that’s what he’d done!

Another dealer had the bike for two weeks, when I test rode it there was a great improvement but the engine was pinking under hard acceleration. Two hours of jet and plug changing helped not one jot. We eventually arrived at the conclusion that nothing short of a T120V head and Mk 1 Amal carbs (the Mk2s are hopeless) would do the trick. And that’s where the cash and my patience ran out.

I continued to ride for another 5000 miles, helped considerably by Road Star Cycles of Dover - a couple of guys who deserve a good plug, very helpful and very reasonable prices. I could have kicked my own head in when I discovered that two of the best bike mechanics in the country were right there in my own home town.

The final straw was a rattle that started off one morning like a machine gun. I thought it was the car in front - poor sod, I thought, that sounds expensive. When he pulled away and the sound continued I realised the poor sod was me. Electric start models have a brass bush on the timing gear idler spindle - mine had spun in the housing and worn loose, allowing the idler pinion to bounce between the timing gears. RSC put in a fixed spindle and converted it to non-electric start cases, as well as putting in new big-ends and clutch bearings.

It’s a good policy to quit while you’re ahead, so I sold the bike for just less than half what I paid for it. I like to think that the guy who bought it from me got value for money with most of the problems solved as best they can be for a Triumph - but I wonder if he really knew what he was getting into.

My account of life with a Bonnie may sound bitter and vindictive - and it is - I’ve every reason to be that way. From the way I was treated by dealers to the overall roughness of ride and lack of reliability, I spent so much more time working on it than riding it - time that should have been spent enjoying the bike. If you use your imagination you may be able to see how I ended up with a Triumph and stuck by it for six long years - and why I’d never buy another.

Triumph had to carry on building a bike with a hopelessly out of date engine right to the bitter end because they had no control over the external financial constraints - no money to invest, extortionate interest rates, et al. Biking will always be deeply ingrained in my heart and soul, but I’m almost completely free of British bike mania and only the faintest glimmer of nostalgia remains.

Jock