Monday, December 27, 2010

NORTON NOT MAMMUT


Reader Mick King, owner of Superformance Motorcycles in Vancouver (one of the first performance/custom bike shops in Western Canada) built an interesting special in the late 1960s, using a Norton Featherbed frame and a salvaged NSU car engine. This was around the same time Friedl Münch was building his first specials along the same lines; the Norton/NSU makes an interesting comparison to the Mammüt (see my road test here) and another contemporary special using an NSU engine; the Bison.  Mick's Norton/NSU special now lives in the Trev Deeley Museum in Vancouver, Canada.

'In the 1960s, there were no NSU dealers in Vancouver, and the car owners couldn't get them repaired... I had a motorcycle shop, and would fix a few NSU cars because I had managed an NSU dealership in the UK.  They were so simple to work on, it was a good revenue source and sideline to my motorcycle business, which was one of the first on BCs west coast.  I took in a trade an NSU 1200 TT car for two hundred bucks; due to rat infestation and rust the car was gutted and the wheels and sundry items sold off. I kept looking at the engine thinking it might look good in one of my Norton Featherbed frames, which owed me nothing... I had a couple gathering dust in the attic!

As winter started in, the bike work stopped; I had just brought over an apprentice from the UK, and a new 9-1/2" South Bend lathe for our custom bike division, and decided to see if we could fit the NSU motor into the Norton frame. This gave the new arrival some valuable turning experience.  We wanted the engine to fit the existing Norton engine mounts, as I did not want to mess up the frame for the sake of the NSU engine; I had no input or feedback as to how it may perform.  When the Münch showed up in Cycle Canada magazine I thought, "Great timing! Maybe I can find some encouragement from the article!"  But there was no data -no speed or bhp- as I recollect, the mag people were not allowed to ride it?  So we plodded on, and after a few weeks the engine was roughed-in, and we took it for a ride.  I could see why there was no data available - it was a gutless wonder, despite major engine work! I considered buying a twin-cam Japanese car engine but they were all snapped up for mini flat track race cars, as they are today!
Note: four Amal Concentric carbs, and reversed Norton gearbox.  Top photo shows four Norton Commando 'Peashooter' exhausts!

So I worked on the camshaft, flowed the cylinder head, calibrated the exhausts, put one large-bore carb onto each each inlet port, used premium fuel, etc, and finally managed to get 125mph out of it, which in the late sixties was not too shabby.  We painted it up black white + chrome, it looked kinda menacing! It was entered in bike shows from Vancouver to Seattle, and it won a lot of 1st place trophies. The whole project cost around fifteen hundred bucks.


Trying to draw a comparison with the Münch would be a waste of time in my opinion, considering the amount of money he invested, plus his engineering facilities and so on.  Nevertheless I think from the get-go the Münch Mammut was doomed, mainly because D.O.H.C. motorcycle engines [such as Kawasaki Z-1] were already making their debut, and strapping an antiquated and gutless S.O.H.C NSU car engine into such an enormous and costly project baffled me and my mechanics from the get go.  Then there was the price... ridiculous!'

Mick notes, "All of the information above is alleged! and relegated to my memory at the time."

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

AMAZING UNRESTORED BMW RACER AT AUCTION


With the introduction of the BMW 'R51' model in 1938, the factory had - finally - a totally up to date roadster, with advanced specification.  Proper telescopic forks, the first in the industry, were paired with plunger rear suspension and a welded, lugless tube frame, which was very light and incredibly strong, using expensive tubing which was both oval and tapered.   Norton copied the BMW forks (introduced on the 'R-7' prototype in 1934) for their Works racers, although it was fully 14 years before most other factories adopted 'teles' as standard.

The new R51 was an upgrade on the 'R5' model of 1936, which used a rigid rear end.  Some prefer the handling of the original R5, as plungers tend to wallow over bumps while cornering, a disconcerting effect.  The powerplant of the R5 was BMWs first truly modern engine, using chains inside the timing case to drive the camshafts, and a 'square' bore and stroke for its 500cc pushrod engine; quiet, smooth, and powerful.  Privateers were soon racing the R5 and R51, tuning the machine to the best of their abilities.

A clamor arose from these privateers for the BMW factory to provide racing kits and tuning advice for their mounts.  BMW responded by offering two types of racers: the R51 'SS' (SuperSport), basically a tuned-up and stripped down standard roadster, which were 'cataloged' and available -at a price- to the public (approx. 50 built), plus the R51 'RS' (RennSport), of which only 17 were built, and loaned out to carefully chosen professional racers.

The R51 'RS', while based on the roadgoing R51, wasn't merely a tuned-up roadster; it had a very different engine and gearbox, visually similar to the R51, but significantly modified for high performance.  Keen eyes can spot the 'RS', but only if they were familiar with the standard R51...more on this later. The most significant upgrades included a new crankcase which housed a gear-driven timing chest (supplanting chains to drive the cams) and a racing magneto atop the crankcase, replacing the generator of the R51 (which used coil ignition).  An early-style R5 gearbox with no air filter box housed a close-ratio racing 4-speed gear cluster.  The cylinder barrels used a distinctive 'staggered' fin pattern (see above), and the cylinder head used larger valves and inlet tracts, breathing through Amal-Fischer 'TT' racing carbs, plus a camshaft-driven rev-counter.  The specification varied for other items; some R51RS used 21" front wheels (all had 19" rear wheels) with alloy rims, some used 19" front and rear with steel rims, a few gained genuine factory racing hubs and brakes, while some, like the example here, used the steel hubs from the standard roadster. Some RS used a Rennsport racing petrol tank, some used the roadster R51 tank.  All used an open, long-taper megaphone exhaust, exactly as the 'Works' racers.  The frame, forks, and plungers were subtly modified from the standard R51 roadgoing items, similar to the 'Works' RS255 machines which were reaping race wins all over Europe at the time.

The BMW importer in New York, Emil Recke, was a keen sponsor of racing BMWs in the US, and managed to prise one of these seventeen R51RS racers out of the grasp of the factory. Under Class 'C' racing rules in the US, any motorcycle raced at an AMA-sanctioned event must be a 'production' machine, with 200 units built to satisfy homologation requirement.  If major parts were different from the road-going model, such as a bronze cylinder head supplanting an iron one (as with a Triumph Tiger 100 of the day), these parts must be freely available from the factory, to the public.  Internal modifications were allowed, but the engine, gearbox, and frame must be 'as available' in the catalog.  Clearly, the R51RS did not satisfy the rules for Class 'C' racing!

In truth, BMW sold very few motorcycles in the US in the 1920s and 30s, as protectionist trade policies introduced in the mid-20s levied a huge tax (up to 100%) on 'heavy' imported goods.  Thus BMWs were rare and very expensive in the US, and it is doubtful AMA scrutineers would recognize the difference between the R51 and 'RS', as they had probably only ever seen the model before their eyes, at the race.  Careful study of the 1939 BMW motorcycle catalog would reveal no secrets, as the factory-prepared racer wasn't in the catalog!  The 'RS' was a perfect 'sleeper', although still a pushrod 500cc ohv flat-twin...sans supercharger.

Recke's designated rider for the BMW was Joe Tomas, who used the 'RS' at Daytona in 1940 and '41, long after the rest of the Europe was bombing itself to bits. Resentment against the German racing machine reared its head during a 100-Mile race at the 1-mile dirt oval of Langhorne, Pennsylvania (the 'Indianapolis of the East'), in 1941; according to track-side stopwatches, Tomas and the BMW set the fastest qualifying lap, for which a prize of a gold watch was awarded, but AMA officials claimed their 'timer had broken' and Tomas' speed was never officially recorded.

This was only the start of Emil Recke's troubles, for when the US finally entered the War in Dec. 1941, Recke, as a German national and 'enemy alien', had his bank accounts seized by the US government.  Suddenly broke, he was forced to sell his BMW dealership, parts stock, tooling, and motorcycles to survive, for which he was paid pennies on the dollar given the ramping-up of the propaganda machine against anything, and anyone, German (or Japanese).  After selling nearly everything he owned, all he had left in the world was his most precious possession, the R51RS which had been entrusted to him by the BMW factory.  When it became clear that this, too, must be sold, he did what he had to, and sold the bike.  He then took his own life.

Indianapolis racer Rody Rodenberg was a notorious 'Harley hater', and raced anything but H-D on the dirt tracks of the US.  He also rode Triumphs and Indians, but from 1947 through 1952, it was the 'RS' pounding the sand at Daytona.  It's known he won some events on the BMW, including an Indianapolis '100', and photographs of Rodenberg racing this machine can be found in Steven Wright's excellent 'American Racer' and Don Emde's definitive work, 'Daytona 200' - both still in print.

When Rodenberg was finished racing the BMW, he parked the machine, and the current condition is exactly as he left it, 'as last raced'.  Only 3 genuine R51RS motorcycles are confirmed to exist, one of which sits in the BMW Museum in Munich.  This is the only unrestored example, although replicas abound on the vintage racetracks of Europe.

This 1939 BMW R51RS  is coming up for auction at the Bonhams Las Vegas sale on Jan. 6, 2011.  Sale estimates range from $120k - $140k; given the utter rarity of the model, plus the complete from-new period documentation offered and confirmation of authenticity from BMW itself, I suspect the price could well exceed these figures.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

LEWIS LEATHERS PHOTOCALL


As part of an upcoming feature in his magazine Jocks & Nerds, Marcus Ross (editor in chief - below) announced an open photocall at the Lewis Leathers showroom in London, Dec. 4th.  As I happened to be in town that week, I stopped in to visit the crew, and of course ended up hanging out all day, interviewing Derek Harris and Hiro Maeda at LL for my own upcoming feature on this very long-lived (since 1892!) motorcycle clothing company.

Marcus shot his portraits with a vintage Polaroid 195 professional camera, creating negatives plus 'instant' black and white prints, which must be slathered with a print-coater stick to 'stop' their development.  I haven't seen the 'Polaroid stick' in decades, although this was the standard technique  from shortly after the introduction of the Polaroid camera in 1948, when it was discovered the instant film invented by Edwin Land (full disclosure; my daughter's great-great-uncle), tended to keep developing and turn brown.

After exposing the film, a 'print' is pulled from the camera, the chemical paper coating peeled off, a timer on the side of the camera is activated, which goes 'ding' to announce the right moment to coat the print.  All very fussy and slow by digital standards, but bearing a kinship with old motorcycles in exactly that regard - the reward of the technique is a print with charming visual qualities.

Marcus, brave fellow, used up the last of his '665' Polaroid negative film at Lewis Leathers, which had a sell-by date of 2007 stamped on the packs; he found the old stock on ebay.  The Polaroid Corporation stopped making instant film in 2008, although a private company, The Impossible Project (nice website), has recently begun selling SX-70-style black-and-white and color film. Given the multiple millions of Polaroid cameras still floating around the world (some 300 Million produced), let's hope some of the earlier-style films will come back as well.

Derek Harris (above right), owner of Lewis Leathers, was kind enough to allow 'photo posers' use of both new LL clothing and some of his huge collection of archival D.Lewis and Aviakit riding gear.  I'll explore the history of the company in another post, but Derek has been instrumental in bringing historic patterns back into production, with the help of Hiro Maeda (two pix up, on right), who recreates production patterns from the vintage jackets and pants Derek sources from flea markets, ebay, old customers, friends, etc.
(Hiroyuki Maeda photo)

Derek knows my interest in vintage riding gear (my preferred coverage in fact), and pulled from his archive their oldest intact set of racing leathers and boots, from the 1940s.  Identical to the set used in their current advertising campaign, LL have only this summer begun to re-produce this jacket, although not yet the pants.  While this particular outfit has become fragile with age, Derek was kind enough to allow me wear it for Marcus' photo shoot.  Yes, they fit!  Apparently, I need a set... as Montlhéry, and Bonneville, are beckoning...

(What ancient photographic equipment did The Vintagent use for these shots?  A first generation iphone...)

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

BROOKLANDS


Its a place I never tire of visiting,  not caring whether nostalgia or ghosts lure me to the crumbling, mossy banks of this nearly vanished track.  Brooklands, the original speed bowl, whose gates were flung wide in 1907 for a parade of touring cars, nearly motorized carriages that day, all billowing ash-stiffened canvas tops and wood spoke wheels, playthings of the rich, curiosities, slow and troublesome, marvelous.

Within 100 yards that opening day procession broke out in a race, the first of a thousand to come, the gleam in the eye of those Edwardians who rotated throttle levers wide and set to passing the car before,  ladies and children aboard, forgetting everything, bunting and flowers trailing behind, irrelevant.

None could 'win', but someone hit the clubhouse first, no doubt to drinks and merriment, revved up on speed juice.  Things grew seriouser and seriouser with time, the gentleman's club suddenly central to Industry - planes, cars, motorcycles, the military, national prestige, progress.

Pilots on two, three, four wheels, or wings, carried that Edwardian gleam, yes in it for the money, but money so they could be in it.  There were other places to come, Island races and Continental, sand and salt, but two generations of speedmen, and women, knew it as Mecca.  The temple grounds of Speed, raw, rough, bumpy as hell, unforgiving, but always there and for so long the only place faster than the vehicles circulating.

The Absolute speedmen left by the Twenties, needing far more stretch, but they weren't Racing, except against Time, doing battle against a common foe, the mortal enemy of us all.

Motorcyclists raced time too, by increments, in clocks, staking claims a little further along the miles - per hour, per day - or against their fellows.  They raced for trinkets, enameled copper stars, spark plugs and tires, dotted grainy photos in the press, and a little money to keep going, to be in it.  To a man, that was the key, the same gleam bound them, not mercenaries, true amateurs, for the love of the sport, the love of a place.  Brooklands.

Saturday, December 4, 2010

'CRAZY' GEORGE DISTEEL

George Disteel, towards the end of his life
 It was a rumor which floated around the San Francisco 'old bike' community for years - the crazy old guy whose son had been killed on a Vincent Black Shadow, went crazy, and spent the rest of his life hunting down Vincents, which he squirreled away in chicken shacks on his property.
Vincent Black Prince
The rumor was, as far as anyone can tell, based on the real life of George Disteel.  George was an avid motorcyclist, a fan of Vincent motorcycles, owning a Black Shadow named 'Sad Sack', and apparently a rider of some skill.  Born in 1904, he discovered Marin county in the 1940s after serving in the military - a motorcyclist paradise, full of empty, twising roads and year-round mild weather.  No one today knows what machines George owned before the Vincent, but he seems to have purchased his Shadow brand new, and created an impression in the local motorcycling community, not only for his riding ability and choice of the World's Fastest Production Motorcycle (as it said in the Vincent advertising), but of his increasingly erratic behavior, and appearance.
 ca.1947 Velocette KSS mk2 'bob-job'
A man of great personal discipline, George walked or bicycled many miles per day, and kept up a rigorous exercise routine.  He was also fond of wearing little clothing, quite possible in sunny Marin, and his ever growing beard usually served as his only upper-torso modesty.   Sometime in the late 1950s, his behavior became erratic, and he confided in an apprentice (Disteel was a master carpenter) the story of his 'son', who was tragically killed riding a Vincent at 20 years old.  George was never married, although he did have a few liasons earlier in his life, but no-one seems able to corroborate whether he had a son, or a paternal relationship with a young man.  In a sense, it doesn't matter, as this story became his justification for bizarre actions, such as stuffing every nook and cranny of his home and jobsites with paper and old cloth, and searching northern California for fast motorcycles, especially Vincents, to buy and hide away, preventing the death of another unsuspecting youth.
 Royal Enfield Interceptor700cc
 George eventually amassed something like 18 Vincents, two KSS Velocettes, a Norton International, two Moto Guzzi Falcones, an R51 BMW, Sunbeams, DKWs, Royal Enfields, plus a lot of rifles, clocks, oddments, antiques, etc, all of which he paid for by canny investments in real estate, making him quite rich.  He didn't appear rich at all though, with his near-nakedness, lack of bathing, and odd behavior.  Although he owned 23 properties in Marin county, he lived for a while in a '52 Hudson car filled with trash.  Eviction from the car meant moving to a Tenderloin residence hotel in San Francisco, after taking a sledgehammer to the car and having it towed.   Towards the end of his days, with cataracts making reading difficult and driving impossible, he wore a pirate's eyepatch made of gaffer's tape, switching from side to side in order to see better.

He collapsed on the street in SF in 1978, aged 74, and a keen-eyed coroner realized he was no indigent, which began a chain of discovery of the man's multiple homes, lands, sheds, hidden caches of motorcycles, storage units, etc.  As no heirs could be found, the motorcycles were sold at Butterfields auction house in San Francisco, where the Vincents fetched from $800 - $1500... Some of these motorcycles were brand new or nearly so, and many merely needed a good clean after their years packed in rags within sealed toolsheds.  A few of my friends own these bikes, so I'm fairly sure the story is true...at least, the Vincent-in-a-chicken-coop part.
 Moto Guzzi Falcone