Leanings

LEANINGS

Triumph Overload

PETER EGAN

DID YOU EVER GET THE FEELING THAT you're at the center of a vast conspiracy designed to subvert your mind and deflect your soul toward some righteous quest in the clockwork of the Cosmos? No? Well, consider yourself lucky.

This past month, you see, I've had a strange suspicion that some secret brotherhood of hooded Triumph acolytes has held a candlelight meeting in an abandoned crypt and elected to bedevil me with hidden propaganda. What else could explain the last four weeks?

First, Editor Hoyer asked me to fly out to California and do a story on the Hammarhead Jack Pine, a mechanically upgraded version of the modern 900 Scrambler, tastefully restyled to look as clean and rugged as one of the Triumph enduro bikes or desert sleds of yore.

A lovely bike to ride, and exactly the kind of thing I would have built myself if I had just a little more patience and good taste and artistic flair. Not to mention money and intelligence.

While we were testing this thing up on the famous Western movie trails around Lone Pine, California, we brought along— for historical comparison purposes—three old Triumph desert sleds from the Fifties. Mark Hoyer had his beautiful 1958 TR6 Trophy, and our long-time pal Bill Getty brought along Roger White’s legendary winner of the 1958 Big Bear Run. Bill also showed up with his own well-ridden sled, which he’s used many times on the Barstow-Vegas Dual-Sport ride.

So, there I was, stuck for two days in beautiful mountain and desert scenery, surrounded by four good-looking Triumphs, old and new, with my eyes gimballing around in their sockets and brain working feverishly on one of its typical conundrums; i.e., what would be the best old Triumph to restore next and which of the new Hinckley bikes would make the best winter project upon which to perform a few performance mods?

The pure charm of old Triumph Twins hardly needs explaining to those who like them, and the new generation has proved to be one of those rare designs whose honest mechanical architecture awakens the personalization and hot-rodding instincts in people. Like me, for instance.

When I got home, I walked straight to that well-worn shelf of my office library where all my Triumph books

are held (16 of them, if you must know) and spent many evenings pondering the works of Brooke, Gaylin, Remus, Wilson and others.

One of my books is “Cycle World on Triumph,” with a cover photo I took in the summer of 1978 of my own 1967 Bonneville—with the tank incorrectly but nicely painted a deep burgundy red. Also known as leftover Formula Ford race-car paint.

I traded this bike straight across in 1979 for a Honda CB750 Four belonging to the late motorcycle collector, Kenny Ball, so I could take a long trip to Watkins Glen. The Triumph, I reasoned, was too worn and mechanically tired to keep up with my buddy John Jaeger’s R90S. Kenny stored my old Triumph, untouched, for many years, then sold it to a guy who had it professionally restored by Buzz Christophersen, a gentleman who is renowned in this part of the country for his flawless Triumph restorations.

Naturally, after steeping myself in all this lore, I had to stop by our local Triumph shop, Team Triumph of Wisconsin in Janesville, to see what was shaking. And who should be there but Christophersen himself.

“I bought your old Bonneville back from the guy who had me restore it,” he told me. “I’m probably going to take it to an auction next winter, unless you want to buy it. I’ll give you a good deal on it, because it’s your old bike and you really should own it.”

Oh, Lord. And me having just spent every last dime I own on a 1934 Ford in need of many costly repairs. “Let me think about it,” I told Buzz. This is code for “I’m currently broke.”

A few days later, I got an email from Todd Ligman, who owns the Janesville

Triumph shop, telling me that yet another one of my old 650s, a blue 1969 Tiger, was for sale locally on Craigslist.

Gee. Still looked good in the pictures.

That weekend, I went down to see the Springfield Mile and got talking in the paddock to Shawn Baer, who was racing a modern Bonneville built by Bill Gately of Bonneville Performance. Baer was just slightly off the pace of the top Harleys, but he did well in his heat race and made it into the Pro Main Event, where he finished 14th. It was great to have a Triumph to root for again in an AMA National. Could the days of Romero and Nixon return? Nothing (Triumph should note) adds legitimacy to a name like real race victories.

Last weekend, I stopped by the Janesville Triumph shop again, and there was my old ’67 Bonneville for sale, on consignment. Perfectly restored and stunningly beautiful in its correct livery of Aubergine and white. I called Buzz and asked if I could ride it, and he said, “Sure! But don’t crash. It’s not insured.”

“If I break it, I’ll buy it,” I said, only half joking. And half wishing to crash.

I rode it and it ran perfectly. One flaw: The right handlebar clamp is slightly tweaked, just as it was when I owned it. It was my old bike, all right.

After I rode my old Bonneville, Todd let me ride a used fuel-injected 2010 Bonneville T100 he had for sale. What a difference. Brakes, suspension, smoothness, oil-tightness... It does everything better than my old Triumph—except look exactly like a 1967 Bonneville. And weigh 386 pounds.

Yesterday, my riding buddy in Colorado, Mike Mosiman, e-mailed me photos of his finished project bike, a 2008 Bonneville painted to look exactly like a ’69 Bonneville. Retro taillights, signals, seat and bars. Stunning.

This morning, Lew Terpstra called to say his 1971 Bonneville—which he and Motorcycle Performance in Madison have built to run at the Bonneville Salt Flats this October—was all done and ready to go. He needed a place to store it for a few weeks while he’s moving, however. Could he drop it off at my workshop?

We unloaded it about two hours ago, and Lew started it up for me. With those 12.0:1 pistons, it sounds like a killer. Gold and white paint, flat bars, perfect.

So, now I’ve got that sitting in my workshop, parked right next to the ’34 Ford project that’s soaking up all my money.

I’m not resentful, but for some mysterious reason I’ve started to think of it as “Triumph money.” □