Norton 961 Commando
NORTON 961 COMMANDO
CW TEST
IS ENGLAND SCREAMIN', OR IS THIS "STILL MY PARALLEL TWIN GENTLY WEEPS"?
Mark Hoyer
The first Norton Commando I ever kickstarted was the Kenny Dreer-built, alloybodied VR880 that graced our September 1999 cover.
I’ve been scarred ever since.
It was then, and remains now, one of the great motorcycle experiences of a long and varied riding career and directly resulted in buying my own low-mileage original 1974 850 Commando.
That very VR880 was the detonator that set off the human energy bomb that is Kenny Dreer and put the Norton name on a path to its modern rebirth (see sidebar page 50).
Even if Norton had been dragged through many terrible attempts at “rebirth” (remember the plastic and cotton-candy “prototype” Nemesis V-8 of 2000?), Norton’s strength, legend even, in the consumer mind was as strong as ever. Perhaps even stronger, thanks to the warm glow of nostalgia that makes you remember the old bike you used to own as smoother and faster than it actually was.
It helped that the final Isolastic rubber-mounted 850s were actually very quick for the day and the smoothest-feeling parallel twins to come from England. And the look of those bikes is seared in the motorcycleloving minds of riders the world over.
Norton was ripe for the picking, and Dreer, unlikely as it was for a former farrier living in Oregon, became the man to lead the group that spent some $10 million securing the worldwide rights to the name and produced the prototype 952 and 961 Commandos that led to the bike you see here.
We have waited a long time to throw a leg over this machine—so did a lot of customers who, after the rebirth of the company in England, threw money down on bikes that took years to materialize.
But the Steel Green 961 Commando Sport finally came through the official importer Norton USA.
The last time I rode a bike with this silhouette it was the final Dreer prototype built in 2006. That carbureted bike had its inconsistencies and was still very much a prototype, but, like I said at the time, it felt like a system, a motorcycle that was working right, its parts in harmony. It was far from EPA legal, but the bike was getting somewhere, a British Ducati Monster built in America, of all the unlikely things. It was fun.
THIS 270-DEGREECRANK PARALLEL TWIN THUMPS OFF THE LINE WITH VIGOR AND PLENTY OF TORQUE AND A FAIR BIT OF VIBRATION.
This 2015 model feels and sounds a lot like that last prototype I rode so long ago. There are definitely differences. The engine is mechanically quieter (but still noisier than an air-cooled desmo Ducati with a dry clutch), and this bike shifts much better. But the look, the riding position, the silhouette, all have a clear connection to the Dreer bike. And Norton owner Stuart Garner makes no dispute about that, though he and Simon Skinner, head of design and executive director, say that virtually every part has been re-engineered in some way. Short of stripping the bike and mic’ing the parts with Kenny Dreer himself (we did make the offer, but KD declined!) we’ll have to take Norton at its word.
If it was totally redone when first taken back to England, this bike is even more redone now, thanks to this machine having the so-called Mark II engine, with new die-cast cases, head, and cylinder, the latter now all alloy with Nikasil bore plating. The finish on the five-speed transmission’s gears has been improved to reduce noise and backlash, while the clutch design changed to improve engagement and operation. Okay, we accept it’s new and improved.
And here was the bike, sitting cold in the parking lot, looking as gorgeous as ever.
Oh, anticipation. Our 961 Sport (lowest priced in the line at $19,995) testbike was delivered with just 19 miles on the clock. Honda with all its millions of motorcycles that have come off the worldwide assembly lines (and quite a number more employees than the 80 Norton says it has at its Donington Park facility) doesn’t generally give us a motorcycle that has less than 600 miles of break-in and a first service. But I was game and happy to break the bike in properly and take it back for its first service in 600 miles. I would be the first owner, as it were, just like a customer.
So I checked out the owner’s manual, contemplated the shape of the engine, the curve of the bodywork, hopped in the saddle, and fired it up.
“Exhaust noise suppression is highly superior” was not my first expected thought, but there it was. Second was that there was appreciable mechanical noise from the engine, even though Mark II powerplant had work done to improve refinement in noise, vibration, harshness. I mean, those are the three reasons I’ve always been attracted to vintage British bikes (as near as I can figure), plus that wonderful sense of riding a barely contained mechanical explosion, with the oily blood of the beast oozing forth as a trail of magnificent smoke wafts out behind and the forward view enhanced by the vibratory fizz of my eyeballs.
Not far off with this Commando, actually. After a light clutch pull and a good-feeling click into first gear, this 270-degree-crank parallel twin thumps off the line with vigor and plenty of torque and a fair bit of vibration. The exhaust note is hardly audible, but power wakes up at 3,500 rpm and the engine pulls strongly to a 79-hp peak then hits the rev-limiter a few hundred rpm short of the 8K-indicated redline. Torque is more than 50 poundfeet from 2,500 rpm to near redline, with a nice peak of 59 at 5,660 rpm. This is in the neighborhood of two-valve air-cooled Ducati twins used in Sport Classics and Monsters, which is a good place to be.
Öhlins suspension, Brembo brakes, and this spidery, stiff-looking chassis promise much. The sporting-standard riding position for a 6-foot-2 tester is click-in perfect, even if the dished seat is hard and thin and your feet are spread farther apart than expected by the width of the engine.
The bike feels light enough on the road, though the optimistically claimed dry weight of 415 pounds is well under our measured weight of 490 pounds without fuel. Initial steering effort is fairly light, but it takes inside bar pressure to keep the bike on line.
There are no suspension settings supplied in the manual. It just says to see your local dealer; our dealer is also the recently named importer, Matt Capri of South Bay Norton, who hadn’t come up with guidelines. After some fiddling on this widely adjustable setup (all fully adjustable plus rear ride height), we were pretty happy with the overall ride quality and chassis stability, though my personal preference would be for more compliance from the fork. Even so, tearing up a back road is a satisfying and fun pursuit. Until you deck one of the mufflers in a corner. This is admittedly at a pretty good lean angle, but having the first touch be a hard part like mufflers is not ideal.
I got our new guy, Associate Editor Bradley Adams, to come along on the photo shoot so he could try the new Norton and my old 850 back to back. True to form, the 850’s right Amal carb was leaking, the headlight burned out (thanks to a duff voltage regulator), and the front brake was sticking. Then I explained it was right-hand shift (one up, three down) and left-hand brake. I could see he was confused yet interested. Perhaps we’ll save the future of vintage motorcycling after all...
He got on a lot better with the 961 and said he could see the attraction to the bike, part of which for him would be the “working for it” from a performance standpoint and enjoying/tuning the quality components. He was pleasantly surprised by the good shift quality (though vague for finding neutral), light clutch, and excellent fueling, as we all were.
Admittedly, a rider in his 20s is not the Norton demographic. Garner said the Norton customer is typically a 40to 6o-year-old and coming from a cruiser or vintage background.
Makes perfect sense. Garner said in our interview that Norton was “knocking on 2,000 units” since he purchased the brand, adding that the V-4 that has been raced at the TT in prototype form will be shown in production form later this year and is going be built and sold to customers in 2017. There has been much criticism surrounding these racing efforts, as many feel that time and resources should have been used to fulfill the customer demand and to make improvements to the product. But Garner says the structure of racing allows it to be a small profit center and that the company must look to the future. “Racing is integral to Norton’s history,” he says, and it’s hard to deny.
More development certainly would be welcome on this bike. While Norton has made a lot of refinements, there is more to be done, and if engine vibration and mechanical noise were reduced, the character of the bike would improve quite a bit. As it is, the engine clatter overpowers the quiet exhaust (we are getting sport aftermarket mufflers to test), and when revs pass 3,800 rpm or so vibration through the pegs (mostly) and the bars (some) is quite high. Above 5,000 rpm, it gets reduced to a more tolerable level, but essentially from 60 to 80 mph in fifth gear, you are in the highest vibration range for the powerplant.
We also had a few oil leaks, one behind the starter (which turned out after some research to be common), and I observed a small oil drain tube leading from the bottom of the airbox to a small catch bottle low on the bike. This wouldn’t be the first large-displacement twin to breathe oil into the airbox (just ask a Guzzi owner!), but it is an indication that, while the company has made technical progress, there is more work to be done. As ever.
This new Norton is 1) proof that Dreer and his crew made “good bones,” a fundamentally right motorcycle that could carry forward the tradition and spirit of a legendary brand, and 2) that Stuart Garner was the right person to pick up what was left. There is more to be done, which Garner and Skinner both acknowledge, but they say the company has “plenty of money about” and a workable plan for growth that keeps them in the hand-built, low-volume business of building special motorcycles.
At the end of a long ride and with some 800 miles finally under my belt,
I parked the 961 in my yard, late afternoon light filtering through oak trees on a pleasant afternoon. The 961 was gorgeous to look at from almost every angle. When I rolled my ’74 850 up alongside, it looked perfectly happy, as if to be sitting with family. And even with flaws, perhaps because of them, we love family all the same.
EDITORS’ NOTES
BRADLEY ADAMS ASSOCIATE EDITOR
I don’t envy the people responsible for bringing a bike like the Norton Commando 961 to life. Do you stay true to the bike’s roots and build something that looks (and acts) truly retro, or do you build something that’s less of an ode to the original but works well when ridden? I think this bike represents a good balance, creating something that’s immediately recognizable as a Norton yet a leap forward in terms of on-road performance.
DON CANET ROAD TEST EDITOR
Having never ridden a classic Norton, I can’t comment on how the riding experience of this new breed compares. I can attest to the contemporary Commando’s unique character and head-turning style, as our Steel Green model looks mint parked or on the road. While lacking a general feeling of refinement, this powertrain does pound out a nice spread of torque. Handling is light, surefooted, and particularly adept at railing flowing corners.
MARK HOYER EDITOR-IN-CHIEF
I watched Kenny Dreer’s joy and suffering as he worked to revive Norton and build a bike from scratch. I’m proud to say I was part of the process, riding most “Oregon” prototypes over the years. Every time I ride my stock 74 850 Commando, I wish it were a VR880, as the thunder and glory of that bike lives on in my mind. This bike carries Kenny’s dream forward, and I’m glad Stuart Garner was nuts enough to have a go.
NORTON COMMANDO 961 SPORT
$19,995
