I really would like to say that I've gone around the clock a couple of times on my late sixties Triumph Daytona but, alas, I can't, even though I've owned it for over nineteen years. In that time I've barely managed 35000 miles. Quite often the bike has spent months slung to the back of the garage when I've grown tired of it and an alternative, usually of cursed Japanese manufacture, has been available. However, the fact that I've resisted the temptation to cash in on the classic boom and throw the heap out of my life for good, does indicate that it has a certain amount of charm.
The engine type is well known to any British bike fan, and arguably one of the better motors around. An OHV unit construction vertical twin displacing 500cc, it produces enough power to put 105mph on the speedo. Unlike the 500 Tiger, the cooking version, it features twin carbs, high compression pistons and wilder camshafts. It will rev to around 8000rpm, but anything beyond 5000 revs highlights the bane of British vertical twins, finger numbing, toe flexing, chassis shaking vibration. It is not as bad as the bigger twins, some of which are real bone shakers, but most of the Daytona's problems stem from this malady.
The good news is that at 360lb it's as light and compact as most Japanese 250 twins. The suspension is OK, even at this age. There wasn't very much damping to begin with but the springs were stiff and suspension movement limited to little more than a couple of inches, so it didn’t need much to start with.
The lack of suspension and narrow engine allow the motor to sit low in the tubular frame, which in turns enables the Triumph to have steering geometry set up for straight line stability without inhibiting chuckability. The poor condition of modern roads does show up the antiquity of its suspension, rides often become spine jarring, bike juddering outings only of interest to masochists. It’s at its best on smooth, snaking A-roads where the motor can be buzzed along in fourth gear. Town riding is also OK where its reasonable power to weight ratio allows the bike to see off many a modern motorcycle and pisses off GTi maniacs.
The narrowness of the engine allows the bike to pass through tiny gaps. On bumpy B-roads and motorways the bike is out of its element, on the former the suspension just can't cope, on the latter the need to do at least 90mph to avoid being mowed down puts the engine right into the worst rev band for production of vibes.
Sustained high speed destroys electrical components, footrests fall off, petrol tanks and mudguards crack and I even had an oil tank burst open (despite its rubber mounts), laying down an oil slick that had the back wheel slipping and sliding across two lanes of motorway. You learn from bitter experience which bolts frequently come undone. Even Loctite and wiring them in position doesn't stop them all loosening off! The practical top speed for cruising is thus limited by the vibes to around 75mph, with only a brief run up to 95mph allowed.
High speed handling, if you can take the vibes and have the money to pay for frequent engine rebuilds, is better than most Japs of the seventies and early eighties. A bit of a weave on some 90mph bends but the bike is so light that it's always easy to keep her on the appropriate line. It's not like some Jap 400 twins which are stable but totally remote from the road, on the Triumph you’re always aware of what the tyres are doing and the churning over of the engine. Those vibes are the only real thing that discourages fast and frantic riding.
You wouldn’t believe the problems I've had with the primary chains. They only seem to last 5000 miles and need tensioning every 500 miles. The solution is obvious, stick in a modern O-ring chain, which would also solve the perennial primary chaincase oil leaks, but I've yet to find one with the right width and pitch to match the British sprockets. Belts are also available, but they seem to have a poor reputation for longevity and are very expensive to buy.
Other engine problems have mostly resulted from the ancient design of the plunger oil pump which seized up at 11250 miles, wrecking most of the engine in the process. I didn't replace all the bits I should have at the time, allowing slightly scored timing gear bearings and small ends to remain inside the engine. Predictably, they wore out rapidly, calling for yet another rebuild. Even new pushrods don't last much beyond 10000 miles, whilst the tappets and contact breakers are an even greater laugh... until you have to take out a bank loan to pay for replacements. Triumph spares are not yet as expensive as Japanese stuff, put prices keep rising well ahead of inflation and some of the pattern bits are dangerous crap.
To be fair to the old girl, I have ridden a Daytona that had a proper engine rebuild - better bearings, dynamically balanced crankshaft and internals polished to a mirror finish, amongst other alterations - and it was much smoother than my old heap, but the owner had to pay out over a grand just to get the engine perfect. I can't afford that kind of outlay, it's more than I originally paid for the bike!
I've also done a couple of European tours, up to 2000 miles in a week, and she ran without giving any trouble and attracted a lot of attention from locals who could not believe that anything so old could get so far from home. I can also console myself with the thought that I get over 15000 miles from a set of Avons and a cheapo chain. The sprockets and brake shoes are still original! Admittedly, the TLS front drum ain't up to the standard of modern discs but as I try to ride in a smooth way that avoids the need to frantically slam on the brakes every few minutes, I don’t really find this a problem. Another item, the exhaust system, would surprise owners of Japanese bikes, for it's still original. Admittedly, the downpipes are more rust than chrome but the silencers still polish up well and give out a fairly subdued meaty roar that wakes up sleeping car drivers in town.
The rest of the chassis looks well tatty, the original paint worn to a nice patina and hastily patched up where the paint has worn off or the bike scratched in a fall. Accidents have, happily, been rare. I've fallen off twice on greasy roads, mostly down to worn tyres and not paying attention. I also hit the side of a car once, but got away with having the front wheel rebuilt and the forks straightened. The chassis is generally tough and can be straightened out by the application of a bit of brute force.
Modifications have mostly been down to rubber mounting whatever can be detached and reassembled with some extra rubber between it and the chassis. We found the stock riding position perfect for the relaxed riding style forced on me by the bike's characteristics, so no change there. Oh, the stock seat fell apart and was replaced by a wonderfully comfortable K&Q item; I couldn't live without it now.
Most of the electrical system has been upgraded with more modern components - I didn't have all that much choice as after a spate of blowing bulbs, the rectifier caught fire and l was lucky the whole machine was not engulfed in flames. Since then, the electrical side has been surprisingly reliable with only the odd blown bulb causing concern. Unfortunately, batteries rarely last more than a year despite rubber mounting, the vibes are just too fierce for their tender plates. At least the bike will run with a nearly dead battery unlike some Japanese bikes I've owned.
I am not so stupid as to claim that the Triumph is the best bike in the world, or even just the best vertical twin. l‘ve ridden and abused too many Japs to know I could get away with that in the cynical pages of the UMG.
So how has it managed to charm its way into my affections? I don't really know, probably down to the fact that it was my first big motorcycle at a time when motorcycling was still a big adventure for me. Just looking at it parked in the garage conjures up all kinds of fond memories... it was even the first bike I took a woman on the back of.
Danny Clarke