The bike consisted of a Wideline Norton Featherbed frame with an old
pre-unit 650 Triumph engine mated with a Norton gearbox. There was a lot
of intricate metalwork around the engine mounts and it looked like a well
engineered special. Except that the GRP petrol and oil tanks were weeping
fluids, messing up the whole machine.
The owner was a graduate in gunge and declared that the bike had been
like that for a long time, that he hadn't really noticed that it was in
a bad way. As he wanted two and a half grand I had a lot of trouble stopping
myself bursting into laughter but kept a straight face. The test ride had
revealed the motor had a surprising amount of punch, that the valves floated
at nine grand and that the handling was nicely tight - very accurate steering
with not much effort needed on the clip-ons.
I definitely wanted the bike but my idea of a fair price was 750 notes.
This went down like a Hell's Angel at a born-again biker's meeting. The
scowl would've won praise from a third world politician deprived of a bribe.
He came down to two grand and I went up to half that. I left my phone number
and the warning that there were plenty of other British tackle out. In reality,
anything under two grand was in a right old state of neglect that added
up to loads of dosh to put to rights.
He phoned back three weeks later with the news that his rock bottom price
was 1500 quid. On this he would not shift. Another test ride. A look over
by an expert in British antiques, who reckoned that all was well mechanically
and he could get me used alloy tanks for less than a hundred notes. I went
for it, Mr Gunge's scowl replaced with a huge smile of relief that seemed
to say one born every day!
On the ride home I was worried that some prick in a cage was going to
toss out a fag on to the weeping petrol tank. Old Gunge had smelt like a
walking gas station and with the petrol vapour flying back into my groin
and stomach I soon found out why. If I'd been pulled by Mr Plod I'd have
been booked. No two ways about it! I made it back to base without bursting
into flames, quite amused to find the old tug would rattle and roll up to
an indicated 120mph on the chrono speedo. You have to be used to the level
of vibes put out by old British twins, though. A bolt tightening sessions
was needed after that fast 60 mile ride; one of the springs between the
rocker covers - used to stop them rotating off - had even broken!
The alloy petrol and oil tanks didn't fit straight on. These things never
do. A bit of artwork on the brackets with a hammer and buying the rubber
strap that ran the length of the tank (to replace the bungee cord) soon
sorted that. Needed a bit of alloy and paint polishing to get the sheen
back into the bike, but after that was done I was looking at a three grand
machine, minimum, and was like a kid with a sackful of toys at Christmas.
Such infatuation was short-lived. Surprise, surprise. Nothing too major,
just complete electrical failure (except for the ignition circuit). The
wiring was held together with ancient strips of Sellotape. A lot of it fell
apart when I started investigating. Some spice was added by different coloured
bits of wire being connected to each other - once it fell apart it was difficult
to put back together. It was still charging, so I put some new wiring in
and everything went back to working. The bike had a 12V conversion but neither
the lights nor horn were much cop.
The machine was running open mega's and twin Amal Concentrics with bellmouths.
Made a glorious noise and revved so freely that if you ignored the vibes
its valves could quite happily be bounced! The owner had proudly informed
me that the valve seats and valves had been upgraded so that the bike could
be run on unleaded fuel. I found no problems with the latter and was often
amazed at how economical the bike could be - 70mpg if ridden sanely (up
to 80mph) and it was hard work to get worse than 60mpg. This compares with
about 50mpg from a GS450E ridden at similar velocities. In fact, as well
as being more economical, the Triumph had much more amusing acceleration
and a much more gutsy nature.
Yes, the Suzuki was much smaller but it should also have benefited from
35 years worth of motorcycle engineering. Apart from the major fact that
the engine gave every impression of resisting total neglect, I could find
no area in which it was superior to the Triton, which would whip the smaller
bike into submission on any road with some corners in it, as well as having
the legs on it in top speed and acceleration. Of course, after a ride on
the pile-driver Triton, the Suzuki appeared turbine smooth. Triumph engines
never that well matched to Norton frames with regards to the latter's ability
to absorb vibration, amplifying an already vibratory motor to new levels
of self-destruction!
My engine was relatively mildly tuned - basically the later Bonneville
spec - thus not life threatening in the amount of vibes put out. It all
depended on what you're used to - as well as the GS450 my garage contained
a well abused Tiger Cub and a Royal Enfield 500cc single. Enough said. This
added up to a full service every 500 miles - valves, ignition timing, points,
carbs and primary chain, as well as daily bolt tightening sessions - though
I soon found out which ones were likely to come undone and which ones could
mostly be ignored - no more than ten minutes a day needed.
Between 5000 and 8000 revs the motor was at its most violent - both in
the amount of power put out and the level of vibration. The acceleration
took my mind off the latter but trying to maintain a ton-plus cruising speed
was an entirely different game. The handling was confidence inspiring at
any speed the motor was capable of propelling the steed. Better than most
middleweight Japs despite the great age difference. Not just down to the
inherent rigidity of the tubular trellis, but also good geometry and weight
distribution - both gained on the race track by Norton. You have to be careful
not to ruin the latter when fitting the Triumph engine.
The brakes and suspension were off late Sixties Nortons. The TLS front
drum was adequate by modern standards but about as good as it got in the
sixties. The drum brakes were better than most discs in the wet or at low
speeds, giving really excellent control. In the wet, I felt safer on the
Norton than I did on the Suzuki. The Roadholder forks were but rarely deflected
from the desired course although the whole bike would rattle over ruined
roads; more the fault of neglectful local councils than the Triton. The
butt-in-the-air riding position didn't aid comfort over rough going; the
bike a pain in the spine on most roads if the speedo was under the ton.
Those of a nasty disposition would thus conclude that the bike was impossible
to enjoy - too vibratory at high speeds and too uncomfortable at moderate
velocities. In a robotic world this would be all too true but there was
something about the way that the disparate elements of the Triton meshed
together that overcame the all too obvious limitations imposed by its ancient
design. After about two months I decided I'd had enough of the clip-ons;
fortunately, retained were the castings on the yoke that allowed fitment
of flat bars - my spine and posture were greatly relieved. Curse the fashion
conscious!
My favourite routes were along downgraded A-roads - three laners that
had been converted back to two laners. An intoxicating mixture of bends
and straights with more than enough room to get past the cages. Most councils
refuse to signpost them, preferring to send the traffic on to the new dual-carriageways
and motorways. You either have to know the roads, be able to read a map
carefully or just want to explore a bit. Judging by past disasters - overcrowding
by bikers or massive plod presence - the last thing to do is to advertise
them in these pages! Sorry, but I like my kicks too much to share them with
you!
In terms of sheer speed, the Triton's easily up to the motorway cruise
- I know, your hyperbike will do 180mph, but not for long if the cops have
anything to do with it. There's actually a sweet spot between 90 and 100mph,
when the vibes fall back to a minimal level (if you work as a pile-driver
operator - no, only joking) and the motor saunters along at less than half
throttle, with plenty of hustle in reserve to put some Henry in his proper
place. At that kind of velocity, the handling's amazingly stable and accurate.
The only thing to watch out for, the motor can consume more than a pint
of oil in less than a 100 miles!
One of the oddest things about this particular Triton is the general
oil tightness of the engine, always the sign of a well put together mill.
The odd drop escapes from the oil breather after a long run but I can roll
up to my rich friends' houses without the fear of despoiling their pristine
driveway - some of their wives in need of severe psychiatric help, so obsessive
about cleanliness they! Having done 6400 miles, the motor has managed to
retain that state of relative bliss. Neither has it developed any untoward
rattles nor exhaust smoke. Overall, a bargain buy. If you're not into standard
British cycles there are still some bargains out there.
Alfred L.