Sunday, July 13, 2025

ABM Festival Tour

At the end of last year, a colleague at work mentioned that her and her hubby, as well as a few other friends, had signed up to a festival run by Adventure Bike Magazine the following midsummer. I'd been muttering about lack of holiday plans or ideas so she suggested I tag along. I did a bit of research into what was involved and, despite attendance being over 15000, signed up on the basis that I could get a discounted ticket price (£130) and it it was only for a weekend. The idea would be to also include a tour of the UK into the weekend which I could duck out of if need be, so it seemed like a god idea at the time....

This led to me having a vague plan to be a bit more sociable in 2025, also being signed up for the Highland Trail group start and a gravel sportive in the Trossachs, of all things. The first challenge was meeting the team and resisting my tendency towards zero contact with strangers outside of work. In the event we had a very pleasant evening, by the end of which we had 5 nights of digs booked either side of the actual do, and a vague plan for routes to and between these places.

Bike wise, the Ten was the obvious choice, particularly since it was now looking very burley after me throwing quite a lot of cash at it over the winter. The Triumph would have been cooler but it's not the sort of thing I'd want ride in the company of various BMW's and Chris's 1000cc cruiser, as they would either have to go a lot slower, or I'd end up killing the thing, given the unavoidable amount of motorway bashing required for the trip.

The festival takes place in the grounds of Ragley Hall, a very large stately home which seems to host all manner of similar events, located just west of Stratford-upon-Avon, in darkest Worcestershire. So a long way down, so to speak, but fairly straightforward with some motorway work. Of interest was an off road loop round the grounds and neighbouring countryside, available to ticket holders. Annoyingly I was too late for the initial batch of trail passes and also missed out on a later offering. Oh well, I'd bag a few trails heading down to and back from the weekend and would hopefully be able to blag a pass once down there.

Soon enough, it was time for the off. I was calling in at Mum and Dad's to break up the journey, and did indeed score a few more new trails:


A fine trail above Wooler, the Cheviots in the background.

Not shown is one rather tricky burn crossing (as usual, I was in such a tizz to actually get the beast through it, I forgot to take a pic) I did actually reccy this on foot but the Ten got through it with ease, dab free! After some QT with Mum and Dad I headed for the deep south, planning on meeting up with the others on the M6 south of Manchester. 


Another good route above Wensleydale near to the huge Catterick MOD area. I also did the ubiquitous Cam road above Hawes, much walked, cycled and motored, including on the GS. Today the rain came in and it ended up being a bit tricky as the limestone was super slippery. I'd gone as far as fitting a set of off road biased tyres (Motoz) which had caused a few concerns on the way down as they reacted to any kind of tarmac imperfections rather alarmingly, until they wore in a bit. However the benefits of them on this kind of situation were writ large as although I had a few slithers and one stall, they got through without too much grief. The Scorpions would have been terrible!

So tea and a bacon roll were needed to recover from this, sourced in the Pennygarth in Hawes, the Ten already looking like it had been on an adventure. The weather brightened up heading south by various back roads and some new terrain. Definitely a place to explore further with more trails to do as well. I eventually hit the M6 at Preston, with a rude awakening as it was mobbed, despite being mid afternoon. That said I got to Knutsford services, our meet up point, on time and just after the rest had arrived.

Coffee followed and then a steady run to Stoke and our first travel lodge. The last time I was on this motorway in motorcycle company was to the ill fated 2000 dragon rally. That had been chaos given the variety and age of machinery (and it being February) whereas this time was pretty slick, us all being good riders on good machines. Plus the safety benefits of being on the motorway in a group were manifest.

Food, drink and good cheer followed. As usual, alcohol loosened my tongue and it looked like we would be a good company for the duration of the trip, at least! 

An overcast morning saw us hit the Mway once more. The M6 toll gave us a brief respite from the chaos but the M42 was busy, busy. As Martin C said - "why aren't these people at their work?" Anyway, we turned off soon enough we arrived at the site. It's a bit like the Isle of Mann in a way, you suddenly enter motorbike world, literally thousands of bikes all around us. Sign on was dispensed with and we rode into the vast site looking for a camping spot. Despite our early arrival, all the fields were pretty full, so it was a case of finding a likely looking spot where we could. In the event it worked well as we were fairly close to a loo block and not too far from the main arena. By the time we were pitched up, the sun was beating down. Fortunately a stiff breeze kept things cool!


The gang and our camp.


The place was crowded!

Much wandering round the site followed. I was amazed at how many of the bike manu's had stands. The adventure bike market is the biggest of all motorbike genres just now. Just looking round the rally site highlighted this with hundreds of every type of off-road biased bike available as well as hundreds of others. I suspect the vast majority will never see any more dirt than this rally site but I can see the appeal, afterall, they have appealed to me since 2005! Of course as well as bikes and things to bolt too them, there was camping stuff, bags, guided tours, clothing, gadgets and of course food and drink. Even the bar prices weren't too bad with a couple of happy hours on offer - we had to use them both, obviously...

The evening entertainment was a series of cover bands of which I was somewhat dubious. However the AC/DC lot were pretty good (or I'd drank enough not to care) so a great night followed and we crashed back in the tents near to midnight. First shock - all was quiet. No drunken singing, shouting or fighting, no revving of bikes, no sounds of people throwing up. Not really a bike rally then....

Saturday morning dawned cool and grey once more but the sun was soon to make an appearance and temps would be soaring. Sunburn featured heavily in our morning moans, Chris in particular having suffered horribly. I guess we northerners just aren't used to it! Anyway, the highlight of today was an expedition round the trails by the three who had scored trail passes. Me, Martin C and Chris had hoped to get on a test ride but these were queued for miles to sign up so we gave up. Then lo and behold, a totally random stranger walked up to us as we wandered back to the bikes offering a spare pass! Nice one, I was off.


Trail warriors start line. It was now into the high 20's so donning bike clobber wasn't really welcome, and doing the route in shorts and T shirts seemed a bit daft. Off we went. Dust was the my first challenge as other bikes went past. Then it was negotiating loose, dry corners, often with spectators, without dropping the bike. At one point we were diverted onto a road and after a lot of faffing I ended up back at the start. This seemed a bit off but it transpired that the main part of the trails had been closed due to a crash. Hopefully all was well, but the appearance of the air ambulance was of concern. Martin, Lesley and David had had enough in any case, but I set off once things had re-opened. And it was pretty tough, despite being on the 'easy' route. Ruts, loose gravel, rocks, and other bikes were the challenge. I made a reasonable fist of it all, with only a couple of slides and dabs to upset my normal steady pace. Of course there were plenty of heroes charging around at high speed, but apart from clouds of dust, this presented no problem, I just got well out of the way. By the end I was knackered, hot and dying of thirst. The bike looked like it had been to hell and back, not covered in mud, but dust!


All good fun. I beat as much as I could out of my clothing (and me) given we would be entering civilised environments in the following week. Then it was back to the bar for a well earned pint, more food, music and banter.

Sunday was departure day. We had one final wander round the site after breakfast then packed up. Temps were set to soar to their highest that day - up to 30 degrees - so it was nice to get going before this happened. The plan was to head to Cheddar Gorge before hitting a posh hotel for post rally recovery. Others were keen to visit the farm owned by Jeremy Clarkson and on the telly, which was not far off our route. This was of no interest to me but I was happy to tag along and view a part of the world I've never really encountered - the Cotswolds no less. Despite winging a route on google maps, we managed to hit some nice roads. The traffic was pretty fierce at times, despite it being a Sunday but we managed to negotiate several hold ups without too much boiling over. It does highlight how quiet Scotland is though, even the busy bits! 

After the farm visit and a much needed ice cream we headed off again via Asda for (also much needed) after-sun and cold drinks. A fair bit of traffic followed as we entered areas of high population, eventually leading to a route re-think as the afternoon was wearing on and we were fed up of the stop start of the local A road network. So more motorway miles followed but less than an hour saw us near to our nights rest. Of course there was one last snarl up where a trunk road went through an ancient village high street (what happened to all the bypasses built down here in the '80's?) and a refreshingly decrepit U road finally spitting us out at a very posh and fabulously located hotel. Much relaxation, food and drink followed. 


What a view, right over the Severn Estuary. Not shown is the M4, on which we'd just been and the noise from which somewhat spoiled this fine view. This was mainly due to it being chocker block northbound, thanks to Glastonbury Traffic. Thank god we weren't involved in that lot!

Monday morning and guess what - clear blue skies and more blazing sun. I'm not one to complain of such things but the temps were getting to me. I just don't experience enough of them to get acclimatised... First up was Cheddar Gorge. we'd ended up missing this out yesterday and thank goodness, as it would have been mobbed. This morning it was quiet, so we cruised up the dramatic chasm, leaving the tourists behind.


More nice roads followed and then a return to the Motorway. It was still as busy as, and connecting to the old Severn Crossing, as requested by Chris Severn of course, was a bit traumatic as the lanes to the various motorways went in all directions. Worse, I was in the lead, and a mistake would have been catastrophic probably requiring a 20 mile diversion to get back on route. Anyway, it all went well and soon enough were cruising over the old bridge, free of traffic. Then into Wales at last and the prospect of more good roads. 

Given my familiarity with Mid Wales, on a bicycle at least, I was in the lead. The route was a corker in the event and after yesterdays traffic mayhem, blessedly quiet. The temps were still high but we were all looking forward to the prospect of a steady fall over the day. I'd noted a few familiar landmarks from my sojourns round the BB200 and 300 routes and after Rhayader we passed my much loved Spar / Greggs garage that had saved my bacon in both 2022 and 23. After Llanidloes we scored again, taking the B road which passes Hafren Res and goes right up to Llanbrynmair - an absolute corker. We stopped here for a breather and the loo, only a few miles to go.

More tricky nav followed to a cottage booked back in January and of doubtful provenance. In the event I found it easy enough and it was a gem. Best of all we were here for two nights so much relaxation would follow.



And what a view. This was near Dolgellau on the edge of Snowdonia. Thanks to missing last years BB300, the last time I was here was in about 1985! Food, beer and poker followed as well as plans for the next day. This would see a visit to Port Merion, bizarre fake Italian village and scene of 'The Prisoner' '60's drama (also bizarre) and then a run round to Betswy Coed via some famous roads.


Definitely a very strange place. All very ornate, but no-one lives here and most of the buildings are empty. A few places can be rented and their is the usual supply of cafes and tat shops.

Very welcome were the sub 20 degree temps. There was a lot of cloud around and rain in the forecast but it was dry on the road up to Llanberis and it delivered as predicted, again with not much traffic.


Fair to say, the roads in Wales were ace. I had it in my head they would be mobbed, and probably would be on a sunny weekend. For us they were pretty much empty.

We got to Betswy Coed soon after and Martin C, Chris and David departed to have a go on a toboggan affair which is part of one of those high level aerial ropeways suspended above a quarry. Myself, Martin R and Lesley wandered round the shops as the trips only rain shower came through. The others returned as we finished yet another coffee and then it was a leisurely run back to the cottage via the Dolgellau Indian takeaway. More relaxation followed and tomorrow would see the start of the return home in earnest.

Chris left early as he wanted to get home sharp and rescue his dog from his sister's place. We left at a more leisurely 9.30 and headed Northwest, destination Chester and the wretched motorway network. The A494 is one of the main roads out of Snowdonia and there was a fair bit of traffic on it. We stopped in Llangollen for a cuppa and figured on a couple more stops before departing Wales. First up was the Pont Cysyllte aqueduct, which I've seen pictures of, but naturally never figured out where it is....


Good old Thomas Telford. This is near his stamping ground of Shropshire of course and his feats of Engineering are all over the place. We then picked up the horseshoe pass, away from the traffic once more. We'd noted many roads with reduced speed limits and this one was no exception, with a 40 all the way up. This would continue for a long time....


Last fine views of Wales before more motorway mayhem.

Getting to the M56 took a while thanks to low speed limits, traffic and google maps getting confused. Of course when we hit the motorway, it was chaos once more. A stiff westerly didn't help, blowing me all over the place at times. However we eventually got onto the M6 and finally got a breather at a services.

That nights digs were another Travel Lodge but isolated in a services so we figured on chilling out somewhere beforehand. I suggested Morecambe seafront and Martin R suggested a chippy! Win, as although breezy, the sun was shining providing fine views of the Lakeland hills. As is usually the case with Northern English chippies, it was brilliant!


Eric Morecambe statue as he came from here. A pose doubtless made by many!

Finally we cruised up the road, had one brief sojourn on the M6 (now quieter) and into the services. A couple of beers followed and more Farewells as Martin R was off early to get home sharp. We left at 9 or so and I bid cheerio to Martin C, David and Lesley who were Fife bound but via the lakes. I cut east and rode to Mum and Dad's via a few roads I'd not been on in years and a couple of last green lanes. 


I got to see Dad twice and then headed home, expecting to be rained on, but in the event it was only a bit damp for an hour or so before dry roads home. Crossing the bridge was, as usual, a relief, Fife welcoming me home once more.

Total distance for me was 1400 miles! The bike looked a bit battered, but a thorough wash later and it was as good as new once more. I'd enjoyed the social side much more than expected. If I'd been on my own, I'd have blazed through the route as quick as possible and likely spoke to no-one but the bike. So all being well I'll be off again with the group next year, as well as a few day rides. Suggestions a' plenty but we'll see what comes up.


Kit notes...

Just my usual to keep track of what I used, what worked, and what didn't....

Bike - Yam T7 was defo the one for this. It's not a motorway machine as it gets a bit buzzy at motorway speeds, but it coped, and for the rest of the riding, on and off road it was the business. The Motoz tyres were overkill, the Mich's that Lesley and David were sporting were a better bet. They haven't worn much at least, but they weren't the best on damp roads. That said, they were OK and actually pretty good on dry roads, so a good choice if you are off on the TET. Which I will hopefully do next year, so I'll tear them off and stash them for later.

Bags - upmarket throwovers are the thing for the adventure set these days. This is ironic as aluminium boxes bolted onto a Yam XT600 were de-rigeur back in the '80's if you were heading off round the world. Of course two dudes on GS's compounded this view! Then, in a parallel with cycle touring / bikepacking, everyone suddenly switched to soft luggage for the weight and space savings. I'd got a set from a German outfit that were half the price of the fancy ones much in evidence at the show and these worked pretty well, limiting the amount of junk I carried and being fairly secure.

Sleeping - I went with Hexepeak with just my usual borah bivvy / mat / quilt that I use on the bike. The Hexepeak is huge so has plenty of space for bulky bike gear and is fairly weather proof. In the event I could have happily done without it!

Other gear was kept to a bare minimum to enable lounging around in hotels and cottages without offending anyone.

What definitely didn't work was my bulky Rukka Jacket and Klim jeans, weighing a ton and being horribly hot in the high '20's temps we endured, even with all the zips open. My only purchases of the weekend was a mesh seat cover to help keep a cool bum and a lightweight overjacket to go with an already bought armoured shirt. Cue many cold and wet bike rides....

 

Friday, September 20, 2024

Desert Racer...

When Yamaha teased all aspiring Paris Dakar wannabe's with the new 700cc Tenere in early 2019, I was interested, very interested. My 1200GS was getting on a bit and a few issues were starting to emerge. The rear wheel bearing had gone, needing a marathon effort to change, the top yoke bearing followed soon after and then the clutch slave cylinder. I knew that other more expensive fails were on the way. It was also a bit of a lardy bike and a couple of close shaves doing low speed manoeuvers, compounded by my increasingly aging bod; suggested something smaller, lighter and with less gadgets to go wrong was needed. 

So fair to say I was definitely interested in the Ten, especially as I'd always fancied one of the original ones, or even the monster 'super ten' which appeared on a wave of Paris Dakar inspired machinery in the late '80's. This brief craze never really captured the British biking public, mainly as trail riding in the UK was a desperate affair requiring something like a trials bike and the majority of 'serious' bikers all wanted loony sports bikes. I was far too poor at that point to afford one and the craze was long gone by the time I had cash to burn. The MZ baggy sort of made up as it had the 660 Yamaha lump in it but was definitely road only. 




Yamaha had tried a new 'Super Tenere' but it looked horrible and was way heavier than the GS. The 700 was touted as being sub 200kg, and with genuine dirt capability, further teased with lots of vids of Nick Sanders jumping off sand dunes. I was particularly taken by the lack of 'beak' (something I'd always hated on the GS) and a de-riguer (in the '80's) low level front mudguard. Yam were offering a cheap deal if you signed up for one ahead of launch (£8250 versus £8750 from memory) but as usual, I procrastinated so missed the deal then figured there would be a load going SH from people who took advantage of this only for the novelty wear off.

Of course the next thing I knew, we were all being told to hide in the basement whilst a particularly virulent flu bug went around and I forgot the whole idea. Until 2022 when I figured I really did need to get rid of the GS whilst it was still fully functional and in reasonable nick. I'd slightly cooled on the Yam as it's final production on the road weight was 205kg gassed and oiled up, which still seemed a bit lardy. Towards the end of the year I was all for flogging the GS and focusing on the 650 Triumph which I'd finally got sorted (I hadn't but that's another saga...) Then I made a rash decision to chop the GS for a Triumph Tiger 800 for sale at the local back street dealer. I got a good deal and this seemed like just the thing being a chunk lighter and being fairly gadget free.

The following spring saw the 650 back in the garage. I got to grips with the 800 in earnest but fair to say it didn't really deliver. A marathon faff doing the shim under bucket valve clearances didn't help (DRZ has 35k and all four still in the middle of the spec.) But worse, the handling was terrible. A good SH shock and new tyres helped but there was something fundamentally wrong. Discussions with a mate who had the road version sussed this - The geometry was designed round a 19" front wheel and 6" of suspension travel. Triumph bunged longer forks and shock and a 21" front wheel onto this and called it an 'XC' but this led to the very oddities of handling I was experiencing. I persevered for the rest of the year but early in 2024, one last run down to Mum and Dad's made my mind up. It was still too heavy (and top heavy) the lump was nice but totally mismatched to the trail bike ethos and I had enough trouble finding time to maintain the rest of my collection to keep at this one. Off it went....

In the meantime I'd been eyeing up what else was on offer and inevitably came back to the Yamaha. However SH ones were going for silly money, fueled by reviews that indicated they were indeed an ace bike. A mate had a 700 Tracer with the same lump which seemed a decent machine and much cheaper but I was set on the Ten with its big dirt bike vibe. So I stepped up my searching. Which got me nowhere - nowt up here for any money and lots of well used ones down south for not much less than a new one. Then lo and behold, my local Yam dealer were advertising a '22 model that had never been registered, i.e. it would be 'new' not pre-registered and still have the 2 year warranty. At £9k it wasn't much more than the original price and a grand less than a '24 one and only differing in a more basic screen and normal indicators. I've never bought a bike with so little consideration - went in had a look, did the deal. Oh yes.


Pick up took place a couple of weeks later. I already knew I'd done the right thing as I was tremendously excited. The careful ride home confirmed it - the riding position, power delivery, brakes and handling, even taking it very easy; gelled instantly. Over the next three weeks I built up the miles as the (crap) weather allowed, culminating in a 250 mile run round Perthshire on a sunny but cool evening. As I'd hoped it felt like a bigger version of the DRZ rather than a smaller version of the GS. Seat comfort was suspect but I wasn't buying it for touring. The first service was done and then I was off down to Mum and Dad's via some fabulous back roads and even a couple of easy trails.



I still had to keep the revs below 6k until 1000 miles was up but this passed on the way home. Much more grinning followed and memories of the MZ super moto - hard into corners full on the brakes (ABS, I have to say, does make this even more fun) whip it round the bend then full on the gas. On some of the twisty, bumpy and empty roads hereabouts this was a hoot. The front wheel would loft over any kind of hump or lump, at no point did it feel like it was going to spit me off or do anything else unpredictable and it was doing 60 plus mpg! I'd been dubious about the standard fitted tyres - the ubiquitous Pirelli Scorpions but touted as a 'street' trail tyre (whatever that means) - however they grip incredibly well in the dry and seem pretty good in the wet too. Rear grip off road isn't up to much but the front works well enough for the sort of dirt I'll ever do on such a thing. I'd been slightly worried that the lump might be a bit breathless, particularly low down. 
As with most parallel twins these days, it's got a 270 degree crank throw (something Yamaha pioneered with the race Super Tens) so it sounds like a fake V-twin. And it's a gem, with plenty of low rev tractability, a generous dollop of mid range, and whilst upstairs isn't going to set the world on fire, it does allow you to hang onto a gear out of a corner without feeling like it's been tortured.


I generally resist the urge to throw money at a new bike but in the event, I couldn't. A proper bash plate followed (black), higher and wider bars (also black), a rack, tank bag and even an exhaust can. The last I would generally never do but I was lured by a 3kg weight saving and a nicer noise, whilst still not being loud. Not sure if its knackered the fueling (it feels OK) but blipping the throttle on down shifts provides suitable pops and bangs which just makes me want to ride it more like an idiot....



Hmm. I'm too old for this but it is such good fun and generally all within the rules of the road so why not? I faffed with the rack as what I'd got weighed a ton and after fitting the top box, I suddenly had a change of heart and pulled it all off and left the bike stripped down. Since then I've gone with lightweight side racks to support some throw-overs and another light rear rack for carrying odds and ends. Overall the bike is probably still the same weight as new but with some useful extras to aid in the fun and allow a modicum of trail riding without too much risk to breaking something expensive.


It's already been round most of my favourite roads between here and Durham and Speyside.  Annoyingly, I've had two punctures in two rides so I might lash up a tubeless conversion in the back wheel at least. I've done another couple of trails and I'm now eyeing up what others in the North of England could be tackled on this beast. I suspect this will lead me into some horrible situation of a stuck or dropped bike with no way to recover it but what the hey. The 'big dirt bike' moniker is well earned I think, just check out the vids on line, particularly Pol Tarres riding a much modded one round the Erzberg rodeo course.


So very happy. It's not a BMW 1200GS so I wouldn't fancy riding it the length of the country on the M6 but I'm done with such journeys in any case. A few minor details also hint at it's bargain basement spec - non stainless brake fittings, fasteners and spokes, rubber brake hoses and wafer thin frame paint. But it's about as simple as a modern bike gets - no ride by wire, multiple ride modes, phone connectivity (WTF??!) or bodged auto shifting (aka a 'slick shifter' i.e something that kills the ignition whilst smashing it up a gear) and looks cool to boot!


Saturday, June 29, 2024

Dirt

As previously noted, my first motorcycle 'riding' involved me grabbing a suitable stick on one of many family walks, and immediately pretending I was a scrambler charging round the hills making a suitable rasping noise....

A further memory was watching a round of the British MX GP at a nearby track in the hey dey of Air cooled strokers such as Maicos, Honda Red Rockets, Yam TT's and HL's, Suzuki RM's and a CCM or two. So whilst my first actual motorbike riding was exclusively on road (apart from a few off road forays round Heriot Watt uni campus) I always had a hankering for some kind of trail bike.

It wasn't until a 350 BSA came along, courtesy or my mate Rick, that I eventually realised this dream. Well sort of. When I got it, it was in road trim, as they say. But it was a much modified ex army B40. These were quite the thing as BSA produced an ideal bike for the forces by bunging a beefed up version of their somewhat lame 350 lump into the rolling chassis used on production scrambler Victors. The Army needed a big tank and it had normal bars but conversely had a 20" front wheel and a trials gear box with 1st to 3rd low ratio with a large jump to top for road cruising. Mine had a Victor cam, bigger inlet valve, normal gear ratios and a decent sized amal carb instead of the odd CV the standard thing had. Over the next year or so I sourced a 20" front wheel, high level exhaust, wide bars and a slimmer tank. Bing bashing soon followed and a steep learning curve. My first attempt was on a small bing in East Lothian I'd scoped on a bike ride. It was rather wet and trying to get up a bank led to a lack of rear wheel traction and forward motion. Instead of easing it back down the hill I pulled the clutch in, whereupon it started freewheeling backwards at increasing speed. Of course the bike wobbled, the bars whipped round and it highsided me down the slope, it crashing to the ground close by.... No damage apart from pride however some advice was needed.

This came from a couple of friends who were involved in a charity working with dispossessed youths to rebuild bikes and then ride them on a bit of waste ground / bing near Livingston. This site proved a good place to practice away from prying eyes and my technique soon improved. 


After my disastrous ride down to Hemsby and the fun the following year, I really went to town with it - 21" front wheel, full knob tires, modified forks to extend travel, longer rear shocks, an odd but light CZ scrambles tank, zero electrics,
 quick action throttle and a home made single seat. I should have scrambled it really but for bing bashing it was super fun. West Lothian was once the worlds oil epicentre as oil was discovered in huge volumes, locked up in the shale that constituted a lot of the ground in the area. After the oil was extracted, the waste - 'blaes' - was piled up into vast heaps. Once the industry had been overtaken by middle east drilling, these bings were all that remained and soon became a haven for off road bikes of all kinds. No-one bothered you and even the Police recognised that they were the best place for motorbikes, rather than more public areas....


Not a trial....

Next up was another B40, but this one was heavily modified (actually 'miller-ised,' i.e. Sammy Miller) for pre 65 trials. Bent and chopped frame for less weight and a steeper head angle, tiny alloy oil and petrol tanks, super low gears and lots of scrapes. I joined the Scottish Classic Racing club and went trialing. Except most of the events had only a few pre-65 bikes and many 'modern' trials bikes so the sections were hard. I made a good account of myself at these events and got quite adept. The B40 was a bit of a handful, to be honest. I did a lot of work on it to get it running right but I discovered what the works riders worked out in the '60's - it was just too much for nadgery sections which classic trials favoured and only good for blasting up steep bits if there was plenty of grip. A 250 would be a far better prospect.

So cue a Greeves Scottish, also from Rick (well his Dad actually.) This was a gem as it was purpose built for trials, right out of the factory. I'd not long moved to Fife at this point and fortuitously there was a local bing to get to grips with this fine machine. That said, it's first major outing was to the Isle of Mann.

Lovely green lanes

A desperate trail I went down - one of those horrible situations where you manage to get down one bit thinking "I hope I don't have to try to get back up that," only for it to get much worse....

Blurred pic as I was knackered. I managed to get down this in one piece by having the engine off, in gear, easing it down  on the clutch whilst trying to stop the thing from looping end over end!

After this I did some work on it, changing gear ratios, adding full circle flywheels for more pep and radial tyres. But time was at something of a premium at that point so apart from another IOM expedition and much mucking around on the local bing, I never actually trialled it in anger. A few years later it became one bike too many so off it went.

In the meantime, I'd ventured off road on the big GS, but it wasn't much fun trying to control 230kg of Bavarian behemoth on the dirt (or even gravel) after the nimble Greeves. Then my dirt stable gained a couple of additions. First up was an Ariel HT5, made famous by Sammy Miller and widely seen as the best of the pre '60 trials machines. It was an absolute wreck having been hard used for trials by the previous owner. A fair bit of work went into it and soon after getting it sorted we went to the Manx in a van so it was the obvious bike to take.



The other one was more modern - A Suzuki DRZ400. It was the road version but a bit of work removed as much extraneous weight as possible and it made a fine trail bike as its road legal exhaust was whisper quiet so you didn't announce yourself to the entire world - most useful when riding a trail of dubious legality.


Annoyingly, just before this, there was a raft of changes to Rights of Way legislation in England, specifically aimed at curbing vehicle use off road. By the time I got the DRZ, many trails had been closed, frustratingly including a few on the English side of the border hills which meant you could ride up to the border but not over it... I did a couple of expeditions to this area but it was clear you were seen as persona non grata, largely thanks to hoards of idiots taking to the hills on loud and powerful enduro bikes with not a care for the trails or other users.

Worse, the bings were becoming off limits as local people re-discovered them for local walking. The Police were forced to take action and suddenly you weren't welcome. One particular close shave I had was on an extensive area of forestry and bings near Fauldhouse. I'd noted the CCTV poles at certain access points but managed to avoid them and hit a few obviously well used trails, figuring the CCTV was for show given how heavily used by motocross bikes the area clearly was. This was fine for an hour or so until I met a local youth on an old MTX 125. His chain had come off so I helped him sort it as he hadn't any tools to loosen the back wheel. After disappearing back towards the road he then repaid the favour by suddenly re-appearing shouting that the Police had arrived!

To be honest I was going to ride out and take what was coming but the lad stated there was a back way out onto the edge of a small housing estate. He was going to head further into a large area of waste ground to lie low until the Police left. I found the access easy enough but had to squeeze round a locked gate which was very nearly too narrow. Thanks to the quiet exhaust, no-one in the nearby houses heard me so I made good my escape. The benefit of having a road legal machine meant I could just get onto the road and ride away. I actually encountered a Police van, the occupants of which gave me a hard stare. But my bikes obvious indicators and lights suggested I was a responsible motorcyclist, and so they left me alone.

This and a few other close encounters meant I kind of lost interest in such things. Until 2011 when the IOM beckoned once more. For the first time in a few years it was going to be dry so I was camping again and on a whim left the big Beemer at home and took the suzook.

Much fun followed....

Thereafter I got more and more into long distance bike riding and the DRZ became a full on commuter machine. It excelled at this of course but I tended to use it through the winter so it quickly deteriorated into something of a rat.

Having given up taking the GS off road I was now looking to give up riding it on road by this time given its vast weight, but when another new machine came along, well described as a big dirt bike rather than an adventure bike, I figured it was time to hit said dirt once more.



Friday, May 31, 2024

Trophy tales

A few years back I was eyeing up my motorcycle collection, wondering if it was time for a change. The BMW (GS) was getting on a bit although perfectly functional. But its a big old bike and whilst ideal for two up touring it's a bit OTT for one. My aged DRZ400 was looking increasingly dilapidated and likely to die at any time having commuted me through numerous winters. The two Ariels were fine and in need of more use but I was thinking that a lighter road burner was the ticket. Various new bikes were scrutinised but nothing caught my eye. Thanks to the increasing need for tech and electronic gadgetry on modern machinery, they were all getting bigger and heavier. Even the modern 'retro' bikes seemed to be lardy tanks with soul-less engines and pretentions towards something they clearly weren't. I was also wary of tying myself into dealer servicing, with its attendant costs and hassle.

Inevitably I felt drawn to so called 'classic' machinery. Specifically a Triumph twin. Many years ago I'd successfully run a 650 Trophy with an entirely reasonable level of maintenance input, doing around 30k over 8 years. In fact I'd only sold it as it was so reliable and lacked the old bike charm that a big single provides. Enter the Ariels.....

Except prices for the 650's were through the roof so I figured on one of the '70's 750's which should be available for reasonable dosh and would be both reliable and able to keep pace with modern traffic. So much for that idea as six months of searching drew a blank. Nothing in any of the rags and ebay stuff was just a comical rip off. Nearly everything was obviously being sold by a 'dealer' (chancer) who had not a clue about what they were actually selling. Silly prices and ads with far too much "its an investment" (they aren't) / "it will appreciate" (not necessarily) / "its totally original" (nope) / "its got matching numbers" (it has now thanks to your stamp) and other bullshit did not inspire. The matching number thing particularly irked me. Many (most?) of these things would have had replacement engines at some point, or at least replacement cases; so how come every single one of these was matching? Quite.

Chatting to a mate then led to a change of plan. He noted that the 750's were fine but a 650 would be a far better prospect if I could get my hands on one. Funnily enough we had a similar conversation in 1997.... So I set him to work scoping one out and switched engine sizes on my own searches, thinking I'd try to get a bitsa that would avoid the horrible prices and bullshit and could be done up as a desert racer. Then another mate dropped by and hinted that my old one may be available as it had been bought by one of his mates after I sold it to one of mine. Hmm. That would be a score as I knew it hadn't been altered since I had it plus I knew how much the guy had paid for it. In the event the owner wasn't biting. Keith suggested he may sell me one of his commando projects but I was a bit underwhelmed after reading one of the books on this model. A good bike for sure but a lot of knowledge was required to make it (and keep it) so, which I would have to learn. 

A Bonneville project came up in the Borders but we were fully into the lockdown by this time and when restrictions eased it was long gone. Ebay only seemed to have either ludicrously over priced restorations (most of which were wrong, handy knowing these things inside out) or laughable 'projects.' In the good old days a project was a project - a mostly complete bike but in bits or just knackered. My last Trophy had been one of these and turned into a cracker. But these things were quite clearly the left overs from someone else's project and of little use other than for spares, if the prices being asked weren't so crazy. "All missing parts available from ebay" claimed one seller on what was basically an incomplete engine, a frame and a handful of rusty bits, selling for £2500. He was right, except the missing bits would cost you £5000 and take three years to track down. A few more sorted things appeared but the descriptions clearly indicated the seller wasn't the owner. I dread to think how many people have sold off Dad's silly old motorbike to some con merchant for pennies, only for it to appear on ebay for many times more. 

Finally, having almost given up, I spied a 1970 Trophy, being sold by a guy in Aberdeenshire that he'd brought back in from the states. The green paint caught my eye as this was the colour of a '70 Trophy (technically in 1970 they became 'Tigers' but all of the pre Oil framed 1971 bikes are referred to as Trophys by the cognoscenti) featured in an American motorcycle book Mum and Dad had bought me many years before and lead me to my previous one (which was black in the event). Closer inspection of the very good photos (A nice change, it amazes me how many people post up blurred / crap photos for something they want £8k for) suggested it was genuine and looked in remarkably original condition and totally complete. Hmm. I would be bidding on something unseen (it ended the next day so no chance of an inspection) and handing over a stack of cash if it went my way for something which could be a piece of well disguised shit wasn't something I wished to do. But, the bidding wasn't going up much, the advert was worded as if the guy actually wanted to sell it rather than to stitch somebody up; and closer scrutiny of the photos (including the engine and frame number) made it all look good. Many an ill-judged purchase on Ebay has been done after a few beers but I did it anyway. I put £5k on which I judged to be its maximum worth to me but less than its actual worth. And lo, I got it and for £200 less than my max bid. Oh shit, now what. First up I made contact with the seller and ended up on the phone to the guy for half an hour. He was friendly and genuine so I made the payment and told him I'd be up to get it the next day. This was just as the pandemic was all going pear shaped again so I wanted to get up there and back before the government told me I couldn't. It was a foul day but on arrival, the bike was at least as good as my best possible expectations, only a hideous set of apehanger handlebars spoiling its clean lines. As it happened my previous Trophy had just such a set of bars - actually those fitted to a US export T140. I got it home and immediately set to, to see what I had landed myself with.

Homeward bound.

Triumph twins are something of a ubiquitous British Bike. They started life as the 500cc 'Speed Twin' but 650cc versions soon followed. The show stoppers were the Bonnevilles - so called to celebrate a streamliner powered by a tuned 650 lump breaking a landspeed record at the US's Bonneville salt flats. However the previous versions had already found their way into other sports - specifically scrambling over here and desert racing in the States. When you see the size and weight of these things you may doubt this but they really were typical of what was being used off road in those days. After Jim Alves won a Gold Medal in the '48 International Six Days Trial, Triumph cashed in on this and launched the 500cc 'Trophy' model, specifically aimed at off road events. Later 650 versions got more ISDT gold medals, famously by Bud Ekins, stunt double for Steve McQueen, and the man himself. In fact the bike used for the jump scene in The Great Escape was a 650 Trophy, not a German bike, and ridden by Bud with Steve doing all of the other riding shots. By the time mine was made they had been thoroughly developed into a solid performing road burner that made for a fine handling and reasonably quick machine.

However this only reads true when looked at in isolation (or compared to other Brit bikes). In the context of the world motorcycle industry they were an anachronism. By 1970, Japan was in the ascendance and beating off stiff competition from Europe, the UK and the States, traditional dominators of the bike market. Why buy a rattily old pushrod 650 dating back 25 years, with no electric start, oil leaks from the factory, no indicators or mirrors and a need for much maintenance when for not a lot more you could by a smooth 4 cylinder Honda which went faster, smoother, quieter and for longer. For a few years British bikes traded on superior handling and being home spun but the writing was on the wall.....

Of course this is now all irrelevant. I've always resisted the whole classic aura thing and treated the machines like every other bike I've had, i.e. it has merits and disadvantages which you make the best of. Aside from the 'its a classic' bullshit a well sorted Triumph 650 is light weight (just less than 400lbs, nearly 80lbs less than a modern Bonneville) has 45bhp (good for 70mph cruising and snappy enough off the line to beat most cars), good brakes (drums front and rear but far better than the dodgy disks which were emerging at the time) and very good handling. This is down to a combination of the light weight, low centre of gravity and smooth power. Also Triumph had enough racing nous to make a frame which was stiff with geometry that provided nicely neutral handling, easily exploited without any of the heroics needed to get the best out of the contemporary Japanese offerings. And they are easy to fix, bits are readily available and, dare I say it, a refreshing change from the complexity of modern tackle. That said having a computer handy when you're working on them is essential these days as there is a ton of info available on the net, as well as workshop manuals and parts catalogues. By 1970 (actually by '67) the Trophy only differed from the flashy Bonny by different paint schemes and one carburetor instead of two. But this just meant easier maintenance and not much less performance.

Beyond this point I will embark on a blow by blow account of the rebuild, the pain and suffering that is an essential part of owing a 50 year old bike and the triumph (geddit?) of finally getting it sorted. If you can't be arsed, scroll to near the bottom. Spolier alert, it is happy ending...

So off we go. I guess this could be considered to be a 'lockdown' project and it certainly helped me pass many long evenings in those dark days. First up was a thorough wash, losing the horrible bars and applying to the Triumph Owners Club for a dating certificate. As it was a US import it sported a Georgia plate with a 93 on it. This turned out to be the US equivalent of our tax disk so I guess that's when it was last on the road. It showed 16k miles which looked to be genuine. In fact it was all genuine. Everything, and I mean everything, was as it had left the factory, barring some rust, a few scrapes and a pair of little worn but perished tyres. Georgia is a southern state and so technically snow, and therefore salt, free. And rust free. Well not quite, but bolts were coming undone which on a UK bike would be a corroded lump requiring an angle grinder. As far as I could tell the engine hadn't been apart excepting the primary drive and gear box covers and the rolling chassis bolts all looked similarly un-disturbed. It had been down the road on the right side but nothing looked to be bent, just a few scrapes on the silencers.

The makings of a good 'un. If I only I knew what was coming....

First up was to get it running. I rebuilt the carb, replaced fuel lines, cleaned out the tank with some proprietary stuff that brought it up a treat (and got used on lots of rusty fasteners as well,) changed the oil, dumped the ancient battery and substituted an old DRZ one I had lying around. It took a couple of kicks and a bit of running on one cylinder before finally fired on both and settled down to a lumpy but steady tickover. No horrible noises, no smoke and that nice hollow but muted bellow that typifies a Triumph twin. But, there were the makings of a horrible top end oil leak, custard in the gear box and the clutch plates were stuck fast. So some dismantlement was required to ensure that all was well before I started putting miles on it.

Overall it was in pretty good nick with faded but good paint on tank and guards and reasonable frame paint. I wanted to make sure this was preserved so I did a fair bit of cleaning up and painting of various bracketry, painted under the mudguards (still showing the original paint!) and undid, cleaned up, greased and replaced all the various nuts and bolts around the rolling chassis. The petrol and oil tank are all mounted on rubber bungs which had all perished to the consistency of cheese so they all got replaced. The tank paint was left as is. Bikes with original paint are now very thin on the ground so a re-spray was a no-no. Plus once you do one bit you have to do the rest and before you know it you'll have another shiny, over-restored trailer queen.

Whilst I was on I checked out and cleaned up the brakes (fine) and forks (full of custard but also fine) as well as fitting a new set of head bearings. The original wheel bearings were pronounced fit, re-greased and re-used.

Pulling off the primary chain case was a little nerve wracking as this would give the first indication of what the rest of the lump would be like. The clutch plates were prized apart and pronounced serviceable, although they were non-standard so had obviously been changed at some point. The primary chain was worn but had plenty of life left and the only minor blot was signs of the keyway on the crank holding the alternator rotor on having been damaged. This is a not uncommon problem caused by the nut coming loose. There are various fixes but I settled for a new key, lots of high strength loctite and a big flat washer under the nut. A bit of a bodge but my previous TR6 had run for all of its life like this.....

Next I went into the gearbox as the oil was a bit custardy (caused by water contamination, likely through the clutch cable outer). The gears were mint but a previous owner foul up was revealed. It looked like someone had had a go at drilling out the boss on the under side of the gear box shell to take a detent plunger. For 1970 Triumph fitted a leaf spring to index the gear change cam plate and a common mod is to drill out the boss (which is still on the cases) to fit the earlier detent as it is more robust. But they had obviously cocked it up as the hole had been welded up and then ground off on the inside. All a bit weird really as this mod generally only gets done after the leaf spring had broken and the bike had wracked up lots of miles.....

I've seen much worse bodges but a shame given the condition of the rest of the machine.

I changed the gearbox sprocket whilst I was on and noticed that its oil seal was hard and perished. Mental note, change all the oil seals. So this then all got boshed back together. Fitting the inner cover took me back 20 years. There is a knack to this as the gear change selector mechanism has to be indexed properly or else you end up with a single speed motorbike. The manual said one way but it rang a faint bell that this wasn't right for my year with the leaf spring index thingy. I bit of head scratching and web searching brought it all back. Build it up in top, not third. All four gears were verified then the outer cover went back on.

I stood and stared at the top end of the engine for some time. As well as evidence of oil leakage, there was quite a bit of black stuff on the head, possible evidence of a blowing gasket. One of the pushrod tube seals was hanging off as well. Oil leaks from the pushrod tubes is a common problem on these things. Mine had Triumphs best effort to prevent this and with care and silicon gasket sealant you can get them oil tight. I also wanted to verify the condition of the big end bearings. When it had fired up the oil pressure light had gone out instantly and stayed off for a few seconds after shut down so on the face of it all was well. But it would be nice to do some waggling of conrods to double check. So I set too and I'm very glad I did as I finally found some horrors.

Under the the exhaust rocker box was much black stuff - defo combustion gasses. Probably due to the head blowing across the cylinders allowing combustion gasses up into the rocker box via the head bolts, a not uncommon problem if someone has neglected to check the head bolt torque every few thousand miles - essential on these things. Finally I lifted the head. Obvious signs of blowing across the barrels confirmed the above but the combustion chambers were mint, the valves all looked fine and the bores nice and shiny with no wear lip. Valves were removed and checked (mint, again), guides ditto (I'd worried that these may have been worn, hence the black stuff in the rocker box) and the head handed over to my mate Keith for blasting. 

You can see the dark staining - combustion gasses passing over the head joint between cylinders...

Then it was time to lift the barrels and see what was what. Second horror:- both top piston rings were in bits. No scoring on the bore though but the top ring land (groove that is) on number one piston had obviously seen some action. Looked like the broken ring had wedged under itself and splayed the land apart. I suspect this could well have happened early in the bikes life as it was all worn smooth with no evidence of bore damage. 

Now what. The bores measured up as being worn but with plenty of life left and no barreling or ovalling. I had a look at some pistons on ebay but I was less than convinced that the claims of 'new old stock' were true. Eventually I decided to give the bores a hone and fit new pistons. I'll not go into the ins and outs of replacement pots for these but a pair of Harris pistons arrived and despite there far east origins looked identical to the originals and crucially weighed the same to a gram. At £90 they were a bargain. My last Trophy had a pair of Italian made GPM pistons for most of its time with me (which I think cost £90 in 1998!) After about 20 odd K it started smoking and lifting the head revealed them to have cracked right across both crowns, one side almost being in two bits. I got a pair of new, old stock hepolites as replacements and these cost me £150, in 2003! 

Below the barrel all was well. The conrods looked brand new and polished to a mirror shine. Every other brit bike I've owned has had rods that looked like they had been thrown around a shed for 40 years so this was a revelation. The big ends felt smooth and firm, the crank spun freely and there was no sign of any debris in either the bottom of the cases or the sump filter.

So rebuild time. I honed the barrels, gave them a thorough clean up and re-paint, bought a top end gasket set and set to. Barrels on no probs (with the aid of some home made piston ring clamps) but then a snag. Keith called to say the head was bent, again a not uncommon problem if its been run with a blown gasket. Fortunately he could get it skimmed so I left the engine and did the brakes, forks and head bearings.

Finally the head was done and after some rumination I got a thicker head gasket to avoid any potential piston / valve interface. Putting the heads on these things is a marathon as once you start, you can't stop. Pushrod tubes, head (with gasket), nip down, insert pushrods, fit rocker boxes, ensure pushrods engaged in the tappets, nip down again, make sure everything is as it should be, torque up bolts. Phew! In my hey day, I could do it in half an hour. Today I took my time, not wanting to foul anything up or forget anything (I once forgot to put the pushrods in, only discovered when I tried to set the valve clearances and couldn't understand why they weren't moving....). It took an hour or so but went smoothly and a thorough check before the torque wrench was deployed indicated all was well (we'll come back to this). 9 clicks later and it was done. Checking the valve clearances they were well wide so looks like the thick head gasket will have lowered the compression somewhat. Probably no bad thing but if the top end ever has to come off again, I'll use the standard gasket. 

Further faffing was needed for the exhausts (which had put up a fight coming off) as they needed a thorough clean up and polish, a new balance pipe and clamps and a new baffle in one side. Oddly, you can buy perforated stainless tube on ebay no probs, but not perforated mild steel. Oh well, I got a length, hammered it in and secured it with a bolt in a drilled and tapped hole.

Next up the timing cover. Behind here is the oil pump which I wanted to check out, as well as the oil seal which goes on the end of the crank. This is important as lube for the bottom end and bores goes into the crankshaft to the big ends and then sprays from the conrods up the bores. If the seal leaks then destruction will not be far behind. Whaddya know, the oil pump was mint and the timing gears likewise. In with a new seal and back together. The advance / retard unit looked new, the points showing minimal signs of wear or adjustment. I'd used a boyer electronic ignition on my old Trophy but these are pretty crap really and tend to go wrong in odd ways, and at unexpected times. Points are simple and idiot proof and once set need little adjustment. Best of all is a plug in the back of the cases into which fits a wee plunger which engages in notches in the crank at top dead centre and 38 degrees before, the timing point. A search of my shed found said timing tool as well as the clutch and camshaft pullers so I mustn't have passed them on when I sold my old one, some 17 years ago. I spent a deal of time on the err... timing and that was one more job done. Next!

The wiring caused a further head scratcher. Everything worked but it all looked a bit ragged and the insulation somewhat brittle feeling. For the sake of not much money and a few hours I re-did it. This involved a bit of soldering iron faffing as mine croaked and the replacement was crap. My mate Dawn came to the rescue with good solder and flux and the lend of her prof standard iron. Not a bad job all in all and on testing it worked first time with no blown fuses!

The tyres were another minor dilemma. The Dunlop K70's (which were the original fitment - I'd guess these were the third pair) looked hardly worn but being nigh on 30 years old were somewhat hard and had many small cracks in the sidewalls. It was a no-brainer really. Dodgy tyres would just end up with it and me on the deck so off they came and on went a new pair of K70's, still available and actually well suited to these machines, given that you tend to run out of ground clearance before you run out of tyre. That said on my last one I ran Metz ME 33/66's, also still available. But you have to run them over size which precludes use of a chainguard and isn't really in keeping with the bikes age. So this time I stuck with the originals, now allegedly updated to modern compounds. The original Dunlop chrome rims were in reasonable nick so they got cleaned up and I painted the insides to keep the rust at bay.

Err. Now what. Fuel it and kick it I guess. More faff ensued when it turned out my cleaned out petrol tank still had some sediment left in which neatly blocked both taps. I cleared this only to discover both taps were now leaking and no amount of lapping of the cone shaped tap made any difference. Cue much teeth grinding. Fortunately I had a spare pair kicking around so finally it was fuel on, flood the carb, ignition on, prod the kick starter until you feel compression, then welly it. Second kick it fired but it wouldn't stay running. It went eventually but seemed very reluctant to rev up and sounded horribly retarded. However it sounded fit mechanically and there was no smoke out of the pipes so hopefully my new pistons and rings were playing nicely with the honed bore.

There then followed a protracted period of fiddling (and swearing). This was another memory jolt. There is always, always a point when you want to throw a match in the tank and give the whole thing up as a bad job. It sounded like carburation - the dreaded amal concentric pilot jet woes - but I knew the old adage - 99% of carb problems are electrical. I went through everything, fitted new condensors (these are two small capacitors which suppress the spark across the points gap), hot wired the coils to the battery all to no joy. I re-checked the timing only to discover I'd screwed it up and set it to top dead center, not 38 degrees before - so much for being careful. Ah ha! Only it still wouldn't stay running until the lump got hot and still wouldn't rev up. Must be a 1%er then! Sure enough I fitted the carb off one of the Ariels (which is technically too small) and after a bit of reluctance it went and revved up fine.....

During all of this I'd been awaiting the reg number. I'd got the dating certificate from the TOMCC before Christmas and the club registrar had advised it had originally been supplied to Elite Motors in London. I'd actually seen the 'Elite Motors' badge on the tail light housing but not made the link with this famous London bike dealer. This meant it may have an original number. In the event, the registrar couldn't trace anything so I went ahead and applied for an age related number. But interesting all the same. Its definitely a US spec bike so I suspect that someone, maybe a US ex-pat, bought it over here then took it home with them. So no need for all the NOVA import stuff (which the guy I bought it from had sorted) after all. If he had managed to get it into the country under the nose of customs he would have saved himself the duty and import fees. Then, after a mere 4 weeks, the brown envelope hit the doormat. Hello LWT 319H.

Further teeth grinding ensued when I noticed oil on the outside of the inlet pushrod tube. Given how much care I'd taken fitting the seals I was miffed to say the least. I was on the point of pulling the top end again when I noticed it was coming from the top seal, not the bottom (where the oil was collecting). Deploying my recently acquired micro USB camera revealed a small crack in the pushrod tube just on the top flange. Right, get in with the silicon. Loctite 5980 is extremely sticky and persistent (to the point where removing it is extremely difficult) and is generally the solution to all of the historic oil leak issues suffered by these bikes. So I cleaned it all up and smeared a generous dollop onto the area around the crack (OK I was a bit more scientific) and hoped for the best.

In the meantime I'd cleaned out the carb again for the nth time. This time I drilled out the blanking plug at the back to get access to the pilot jet. This had a (tiny) drill pushed through it and much blowing out and skooshing with WD40 followed. This was the last roll of the dice. If it didn't go then a new carb was in order, more expense!

I was actually slightly nervous about giving it another go. I was also aware that my neighbours over the back fence were probably getting a bit sick of hearing the thunderous racket (of me swearing) as well as the sound of a throaty 650 twin on open pipes being revved. So after much deliberation and a day in the office, once again it was on with the fuel, tickle the carb (i.e. flood it, more amal foibles) kick once, vroom, dies. Kick again: Vroom, vroom, vroom. I felt more relief than jubilation, but it settled down to a very steady tickover, oil was returning into the tank (but not out of the pushrod tube thank fuck) it was happy to rev up and it sounded as fit as a fiddle. Of course in theory I'm not allowed to ride it but there is enough wiggle room in the regs - I'm talking covid lockdown nonsense here - to get out on it (I'm going shopping / doing exercise / driving to my extended household, Officer) so the finale of this post will be a report of the first run.

The finished article. Not that much different from the pic above but its only skin deep!

The sun was shining, I got my gear on, wheeled the machine onto the drive. Flood carb, ignition on, find compression, welly it. It fired first kick and settled down to a steady tick over. Lift clutch and snick it into gear. No lurch indicating a dragging clutch and a smooth take up as I let the clutch out and pulled out of the drive. I didn't go far - about 8 miles - but it pulled strongly, handled sweetly and sounded fab. There was still a bit of hesitation at low throttle openings (just off the stop). Just a bit of 8 stroking and hunting suggesting a bit of needle tweaking required. Best of all, when I got back the engine was devoid of oil (on the outside that is!) so my sealant bodge has worked for now. I'll fiddle with the carb some more, ride to work a few times and generally treat it like a new bike for a few hundred miles. The bores won't need much running in, I just want to make sure all is well before I change the oil, give it a good going over and then start to ride it in anger.

Vroom! 

Further update:- After much fiddling the original carb was declared to be scrap. Long story short, Amal concentrics can cause all sorts of problems off tickover due to the pilot jet circuit getting clogged. Much cleaning seemed to make no difference whatsover. Eventually I gave up and went carb hunting. Annoyingly new ones were all out of stock but lo and behold, my mate Keith turned up a nice Monobloc that had come off a Bonneville TT. As it happens its the same spec as for a pre '68 TR6R so after some fettling, much faffing with cables and fuel pipe it went on. These are a better carb all in all and much easier to clean and fettle. First kick and vroom vroom vroom. Totally sorted!


2022 Update...

So after the above I used the bike a fair bit last summer, including a run up to my friends in Speyside over the A939 in somewhat damp weather and down to see Mum and Dad at a holiday cottage they had rented in Rockcliffe. Both runs saw me use much of the bikes performance with some sustained speed work (As they used to say in the 'Motorcycle' on road tests!) indicating all was well(!) 

I took it off the road when the road salt appeared with a vague plan to pull the whole lump down. My one concern had been the sludge trap in the crank. This is part of the bottom end oil supply and theoretically takes sediment and debris out of the oil like a centrifuge. After a while they can block oil ways and a big bang will shortly follow. Plus I was a bit worried about it having sat with old oil for 30 years. This can corrode journals and bearings leading to further chances of something horrible happening. So I really needed to have a look see and winter is the best time to do this.

Of course I never got round to it and buoyed by how well it had gone last year, when Spring arrived I dragged it out and got on with it. I'd actually reverted to a Concentric carb over the winter as I'd sourced a new body. The other bits I'd bought for the old one meant it was practically new. It turned out the duff pick up from tickover was due to a faulty needle jet (a new one, the worn old one was actually better) so this got renewed and the bike started much better and ran nicer as well. 

On the first of many hot days we've had this year I went out for a local run after a few trips in and out of work. The throttle was used and the performance and handling exploited. Going back to my text at the start of this article, these really are fine bikes, away from motorways. Small, light, low and poky, just what a motorbike should be, rather than some vast edifice cluttered up with tech. Except when I got home I became aware that the oil light was flickering on at tickover.

Uh Oh. This is typically the first sign of a failing big end as these are plain shells which retain oil pressure until they wear. Odd as they had seemed nigh on perfect when I had the top end off in 2020. A check of the sump plug and gauze filter revealed nothing in the way of white metal from the shells which was doubly odd. The only other cause could be muck getting under the oil pump's non return valves which reduces oil pressure. So off with the pump and check out the oil tank. 

So began a voyage of discovery. There was a layer of wax like gunge in the bottom of the tank which I couldn't recall from my work in 2020. I thought I'd cleaned it out but obviously not. So off it came, clean out, fit new oil pipes, strip, clean and rebuild pump (which seemed to be in less good nick than I recalled) and have another go. Result - the same. Still no debris in the sump but this was starting to look like further investigation was needed. My mate Keith was of one mind - strip it. It's not hard, won't take too long and means you'll have peace of mind.

So. Off we go. Keith was right in that taking it apart was straightforward at least. First job was to remove the peripherals - exhaust, carb, coils, head steady and various cables and pipes. Then off with the top end (bores and pistons still good), primary drive off then undo engine bolts and lift the lump onto the bench. I was taking stuff apart that had last seen the light of day at Triumph Meriden but as with my previous work on the bike, nothing was siezed and everything seemed to be in good order. 

First check was the cam wheels. What I thought were the correct pullers weren't so the first of many orders went in for puller, full gasket set, oil seals and a few sundry bits and bobs. I had already ordered and received a new oil pump thinking this was the solution to the low pressure but this is a fools errand which I'd realised before trying it out so it was still in it's wrappings. There are two options for this - a Morgo two valve (basically a bigger version of the standard pump) or a later T140 4 valve pump which requires grinding of the timing cover to fit. These weren't available so the Morgo would do and does represent an improvement on the standard pump. The crank cases were then unbolted and split and the drive side lifted off.

I was awaiting another special tool to pull the timing pinion off the crankshaft before it could be removed. You see many cranks on these bikes totally mullered where someone has tried to hammer it out of the case and pinion. Not sure how I'd done this previously (I didn't use a hammer, to be clear!) but when it arrived the puller took the pinion off effortlessly and the press was employed to push the crank out of the timing side bearing.

So what have we got. Both conrods were unbolted with a certain amount of trepidation. First impressions were good -  big end journals seemed fine with some small staining patches from the old oil but no scoring or damage. The shells were well scored however, particularly the timing side. You'd think that if an oil supply issue occurred it would be the drive side (i.e. furthest away) big end would suffer first but for whatever reason, it's always the timing side that gets it first - I've considerable experience of this! So that looks like the problem but I was miffed that this had occurred given the general good overall condition of the engine and it's low mileage. At least it hadn't gone bang, something that would likely have occurred if I'd kept on riding it. 

Finally I wielded my newly acquired micrometer at the journals, workshop manual in hand. Both measured as being exactly on the largest allowable size - in other words how they had left the factory. Phew, no faffing getting them ground, just new shells required and a bit of a polish.

An ex big end shell.

The next marathon was the removal of the sludge trap. The slotted plug resisted all attempts to be removed so a further delay ensued as I awaited a better socket to get it out. It relented eventually and I could peer inside. Whilst there was a thin layer of compressed sludge this wouldn't be an issue, oil supply wise. Of greater concern was a dollop of gooey, oily, swarf laden gunge which slowly flowed out of the plug hole on up ending the crank. That'll be the culprit then! I'd noted tide marks all over the inside of the crank case and caught in casting ribs of a similar black gunge. So looks like this has been circulating round the engine. Fuck, what a mess and a clear indicator that I should have had this all apart from the word go. Oh well, I'd more or less gotten away with it in terms of no terminal damage although its source was a mystery. My guess is that it was old oil that had sat in the trap for 30 years and partially dissolved the waxy deposits in the trap. When I'd run the bike in I'd used some cheap 20/50 which had detergents in it and I suspect these may have also contributed to the formation of this gunge. Removal of the trap tube itself was another fight requiring me to drill it and chisel out (carefully!) The manual suggests hooking a spoke in its locator hole and pulling out. Ha! Much cleaning out and blowing out followed. My top tip is use of a paraffin sprayer connected to a compressor, and loaded with white spirit for this. I blasted through all the oilways followed by final clearing with compressed air. And then I did it again, and again - no chances this time! Inspecting the bearings indicated some roughness and evidence of roller scuffing (drive side.) It was a no-brainer, get new ones - spendy (nigh on £200 for the mains and gearbox bearing which I decided to do as well) but worth it for piece of mind.

Finally all was done, and ready for the rebuild...

Now in the old days I had a bad habit of doing these rebuilds in somewhat un-sanitary conditions. Garage floors, filthy and cluttered work benches, even in the street! Cleaning of parts had also been a bit variable with a tendency to give things a wipe down with an oily rag before cracking on, usually after they had been left lying around in a tin or box. This time I'd made an effort with a mass shed tidy and clean up pre engine dismantlement and much use of bags and boxes to keep all the bits in order. Considerable care was taken with everything and a lot of time was spent cleaning things up. Thanks to a salt free life, the cases came up like near knew. Removing old jointing compound took a while but by the time that the new bits arrived everything was clean as a whistle and I had the workbench tidy and covered in Old Bike Marts.

So off we go again. The first check was the drive side main bearing. The old one had come off rather easily so I groaned when the new one was loose on the shaft. Not rattling loose but it could be turned easily. Mic-ing it indicated the journal was 0.02mm under the minimum size. The drive side crank nut has obviously loosened at some point, hence the damage to the rotor keyway and I suspect this is when the bearing would have spun on the shaft, hence the wear. Solutions to this are varied - spray on metal (kind of like welding) and machine down is the proper way or point the blow lamp at it and smear solder over it being the bodge. This would either involve a third party (and money and delay) or a somewhat dubious solution. The loctite website provided the answer. 648 retaining compound is designed for wide clearances (up to 0.25mm allegedly) and high temps. That would do (I'm told auto manus use it to avoid having to press bearings onto cranks / shafts etc in the interest of cheapness...) as the bearing is clamped up by the rotor and I would make sure this would never come loose (i.e more loctite!) 

So I twiddled my thumbs for a few days awaiting the postie before proceeding, using the delay to heat cases and fit the timing side bearing and gearbox bearing. After some thought I also decided to have a go at drilling and tapping the boss in the gearbox casing to take a detent plunger (i.e. undo the mess noted above.) I mucked around with various homemade jigs and drilled a pilot hole on target. Annoyingly the last drill to near the tapping size went squint. I could feel a cold sweat forming as I didn't want to wreck some very nice cases. Further jig refinement (and more waiting on the postie) left me with a 5/8" unf nut welded to a bar clamped to the cases which would hopefully pilot the tap down the hole to square it off. This took a long time as the tap was having to carve a path somewhat different to the pilot hole which was also undersize. I got there eventually and all seemed well. But I'd lost confidence in the exercise and I needed to machine a diameter into the hole as the plug isn't threaded all the way. So it got filled with a socket stud held in with (more) loctite and silicon. Trying to ignore this bodge I proceeded with the rebuild.

Speaking of loctite I've discovered 574 flange sealer. This is really good and makes a fine substitute for what triumph used on joints that don't have a gasket. I've used silicon in the past but this can stick covers on immovably and also tends to get everywhere. Fine for when the joining surface is knackered but OTT elsewhere. Other products are available but I've always found them a bit rubbish. This went on the crank cases and I bolted them together carefully. Oh dear, the crank locked up as I tightened them. It took a while to figure this - I eventually realised the crank hadn't been drawn into the timing side bearing so instead was pressing against the drive side bearing. The solution was my 20T press, carefully deployed to push the crank fully home. Sorted.

Next stress creator was the cam pinions. My newly acquired puller had the means to press them back on but one got stuck on the woodruff key and jammed it into the phosphor bronze bush. I bit of careful tapping and faffing got me nowhere. More cold sweat as if I knackered the bush the cases would have to be split, a new bush bought, pressed in and line reamed. Careful work with a small file erased the minor damage and I tried again. More careful tapping (and a thump) got the wheel started on the key and then the puller did the rest. Phew again. Torque wrench deployed after a web search for the figures, absent from the manual. I was going to use this across the board rather than my usual method of doing nuts up as tight as I could, all in the interest of doing a proper job!

I could build the complete lump on the bench but it weighs 140lbs apparently and my back would likely object to lifting this into the frame. Instead I dropped what I'd done so far into the frame with minimal stress. Next was to get the pistons and barrels on so the conrods weren't flailing around - I was keen to preserve their mint condition!

Now for some transmission. Bash in the sleeve gear, fit the gearbox sprocket and re-attach the chain so I could stand on the back brake whilst tightening up various transmission nuts. Fitting the gear box internals lead to further muppetry. I'd figured this out the first time so not sure why I got it wrong this time. Worse, as it was selecting some gears I thought it was OK so tightened up all the bolts and fitted the outer cover - we'll come back to this... 

The primary drive went on without a hitch and I also connected up the oil supply and filled the tank so I could start circulating it ahead of the grand fire up. Old age is a terrible thing. After much scrutiny of web images to figure out which pipe is in and out, I got it wrong. Much spinning of back wheel to turn the engine over lead to some sucking noises out of the oil pump but no oil emerging from the crank feed. It's actually easy - the inner pipe is the inlet and the outer pipe the outlet. I creatively miss-interpreted the drawing on the web hence the mistake. Thank god I tested it rather than just lash it all together and try to fire it up! Anyway pipes were switched and oil duly appeared. I'd already used the pressure can to squirt oil into the crank until you could see it oozing around the conrods so with a final skoosh of oil into the crank cases, I was ready to button her up. 

Except it was clearly not selecting all gears, despite my earlier assertion. I stared at it for a bit whilst uttering swear words and then without a further thought set too. My mistake was evident - I'd located the detent spring into the top gear notch fine but put the quadrant that links the gear lever to the cam plate (i.e the thing that selects the gears) as per the manual, not where it needed to be for top gear. This time I'd used jointing compound (i.e. loctite) instead of a gasket as this is what the manual says. I had worried that the gasket would allow lay shaft end float so figured doing it by the book was better. So this had to be cleaned off before re-assembly. Eventually it was done and I had a four speed motorbike rather than a three speed one.

Only the top end remained and a further marathon. Much inspection and cleaning of bits was done ahead of this. The crack in the inlet pushrod tube was actually a gap in the soldered joint between the sealing flange and the tube - a mistake from the factory which must have meant this thing sprayed oil from this joint from new. Maybe that's why the cases and frame were so clean! In a way I'm glad it was never sorted as this would have meant someone else ripping the top end off to sort, doubtless with many a bodge when re-fitting. Stuff like this makes meeting the original owner something that would be of great interest...

So after much thinking and prepping, I set too. It went smoothly over about an hour with 9 clicks of the torque wrench the finale. Carb, head steady, coils and exhausts were wrestled on, I confirmed I'd wired the points up the right way, mucked around with a few other bits and bobs and.... procrastinated over starting it. My excuse was sunny weather induced bike rides but eventually I ran out of reasons not to. In with fuel, tickle carb and kick. It went second prod and settled to a steady tickover. I'd already made the oil light go out just by turning over the engine by spinning the back wheel so was gratified that it went out and stayed out on firing and took a few seconds to come back on after shut down. A peek in the oil tank verified oil return so we were good to go. Off down the street then back again as a horrible noise was coming from the rear of the bike. Nothing more than one of the rear engine bolts in the wrong way round so rubbing on the chain, sorted easily thankfully. Of more importance was a lack of oil leaks or other horrible noises.

A couple of days later I went out for a longer run. I shouldn't need to run it in much just take it a bit easy for a few hundred miles so once I got it up to temperature I started giving it a bit. No 'speed work' but plenty of riding up and down the rev range of 2-4000 rpm. I did 50 miles via the local petrol station and got home. Only to notice a faint flicker of the oil light...

My heart sunk. A bit of foutering showed that the light was definitely on at 500-750 RPM, flickering to 900 RPM and off at 1000 RPM, it's notional tickover. It had been a hot day so a couple of days later I was out again in cooler temps. Definitely no issue at 1000RPM but dropping the tickover and the light flickered and went off instantly on shut down when it should really stay off for a second or two. Hmmm. This is so typical of these things - a problem arises, you strip the motor, find a problem, fix it, rebuild and the original problem is still there. All I can think of is that the new shells are loose. The rods felt OK so it would be very minor but I should have measured them as a mate had got a set of Harris shells and they had been slightly undersize. 

After a certain amount of rumination, and a lot of web searching I sourced an oil pressure gauge and fitted it. Another run of 30 miles revealed the bad news - fast tickover pressure of just shy of 20psi (manual states 20-25) and a high speed pressure of just past 60. Actually not far off but given it was on new big end shells, crank journals at max spec and a new oil pump this wasn't good enough. Annoying as my last one just got lashed together and was absolutely fine. 

Inevitably my thought draws to crap pattern parts - specifically the big end shells. Fair to say this isn't something I'm particularly pleased at, but what do you do? Kick yourself for not doing a full strip when I got it, and before I fired it up, obviously but for now I'll just have to suck it up and have another go. At least it will take a lot less time!

So. Apart the engine came again. Much scrutinising took place and the headline was a complete lack of problems. Big ends OK, shells, faintly scuffed but fine, journals good. So what then? I got my hands on some 'plastigauge' - basically thin strips of plasticene which you put under a plain shell bearing, torque up and then measure the squashed width to determine the clearance. This came out as bang in the middle of the spec - good news in a way but I was looking for an obvious fault! I'd sourced new shells which were alleged to be American and therefore much better than the Taiwanese made Harris efforts but my measurements indicated there was fuck all wrong with these. 

The only concern was more swarf laden oil coming out of the sludge trap. Where the hell had this come from? Not the big ends, obviously so had it been lurking there after all my cleaning? So what to do. Throw it back together again, obviously. I had to buy another sludge trap as I'd mangled the last one taking it out to check. The crankshaft oil quill was scrutinised but found to be (just) within spec, and the oil pump was new so what the hell else could be wrong?

Don't know so I nailed the thing back together with a modicum of swearing (the gearbox put up a fight) and much care and attention. I was slightly stressed about doing two rebuilds within a few months after the thing had been together for 50 years but figured that most this age would have been apart a dozen times or more at least, and with a lot less care and attention than I'd paid, so I was sure it would be fine.

No. Same problem, no change. Fine until the oil got hot then the pressure would drop to about 5psi lower that it should be. Time was, I'd have reached for the box of matches, but a mantra came back to me - the better you get at sorting these things, the better they get at fooling you. So I set too, eliminating the possibles. Oil pressure relief valve spring - in with the old as the new was clearly duff, measure up as being a lower rate than standard. No change. Put original oil pump in, maybe the new morgo was duff. No. Right, this all started when I changed the oil so maybe I bough a batch of duff oil. Drain the lot, including out of the filter. Hmm, I'll put the morgo pump back on and make sure all is well with that, the gasket, the oilways and everything else associated with the feed. Oh, better check the oil seal in the timing case which seals against the crankshaft. I'd renewed this during the original rebuild and replaced it again when I did the bottom end.

Popped seal. Looked at it. Looks fine. Push onto end of crank. Its a loose fit. Eh? Measure crank journal (for the nth time). Just in spec as previously determined.... What the fuck? I compared the seal to the one that I'd taken out and it is quite clearly bigger (internal dia that is) Much measuring and it's way too big. What the hell?? I pause for thought - this is quite clearly the problem and the timings work out. Original oil pressure problem due to worn big end shells thanks to gunge in sludge trap restricting oil supply. Fix this but introduce new problem - wrong oil seal which is good enough when the oil is cold and thick but not when it's hot. Not enough to lose all pressure, just for it to be a bit lower when it's hot.

I uttered a damning curse to all suppliers of defective pattern parts (not actually sure who this was but...) and ordered a new seal after much scrutiny of parts, pictures and the web to ensure I go the right one. Of course the hardened cynic in me wonders if this still isn't the problem, but it feels right. I've sorted this. 

Well yes. I think. First test with the oil pressure gauge suggested it was still a bit low. I then fitted the old pressure switch and on came the light (again!!) at very low revs. On with the new switch and the light is off. I switched off the fuel and ran it dry. As the tickover dropped to a stall the light flickered and came on. I'll live with that.

So slightly inconclusive to be honest - I seem to have identified the original problem - i.e the pressure switch was sticking so the light was not going off when it probably should have. I replaced the worn big end shells (twice!) and cleaned a lot of gunge out of the motor. I fitted a crap oil seal on the end of the crank and then replaced it with a proper one. I fitted a new oil pump which will help whatever, and I faffed with the pressure relief valve until I was happy it was doing it's job. 

I also bought a new bike, actually another Triumph Tiger but with an extra 150cc and only 11 years old instead of 52... This has replaced the ageing GS so will be used secondary to the (real) tiger which I'm going to crack on with. If the motor goes pop then at least I'll know what went wrong....

The Old (looking particularly fine in the summer sun!)

And the new(er)

More later....

2023 Update...

So at the start of Spring '23, the Trumph got dragged out, fired up and ridden. Expect within 50 miles the oil pressure light was on at all but medium revs. Fuck. So back to square one but I just couldn't be bothered so it was shoved in the back of the garage and forgotten about. The newer Tiger was used but I ended up with this in bits, fixing starter motor doing the valves (shim under buckets - a total faff) and sorting various other previous owner induced fowl ups.

Until August. I was still keen to persevere with the 650, especially as my love affair with the 800 had waned somewhat. I knew the problem was something obvious I was missing but the only option was to strip it again but this time check everything - twice! So apart it came again and I embarked on a full test programme. Of interest was that all sets of big end shells, including the scored original ones, checked out on clearance. This wasn't the problem. But... long story short, everything checked out as mint:

Valve guide to cam follower clearance - check

Oil pressure relief valve piston to bore clearance - check

Big end clearance - check

Oil pump - check

So time to start testing other stuff. I codged up a test rig for the oil system that I could check with a bicycle shock pump. This tested the crank oil seal (blew out at 100psi - check), oil pump bores (took 150psi with no leakage), Relief valve (no leaks, works as prescribed) 

Then I went for the oil pressure switch. First I calibrated the gauge - OK at high pressure but not at low. Hmmm. Then the original switch - sticking at high and low pressure. Hmmmm. Then the new switch - oh for gawds sake, it's leaking through the body, hence no oil pressure - another duff pattern part. Much teeth grinding followed (and swearing). So this has been the problem all along - sticking original switch, a few more wild cards (i.e. the duff crank seal) then a new switch failing.

So back together she goes with a lot more confidence. Best of all I sourced a new oil pressure switch which comes on at 3.5psi not 7. I know this is dodgy but I just want something to tell me there is some kind of oil pressure, I don't care what it is! Rebuild all good - I took my time over the winter as and when I felt like it. This is a far cry from my youth when it all seemed to have to be done at the last minute with many a midnight shed sesh the result.... Anyway it fired first kick, but lo, the clutch wasn't, thanks to totally overfilling with oil. This fixed, it went like a dream on a rare mild and sunny day that have been few and far between this March (2024.) A bit of local bend swinging once again showed how fine these things are and no oil light! 

Anyway the other Tiger is going (still too heavy although nice enough) something else new is on the way but the 650 is going to get ridden. More later...

ABM Festival Tour

At the end of last year, a colleague at work mentioned that her and her hubby, as well as a few other friends, had signed up to a festival r...