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Monday, March 31, 2008
I'M GIVING IT UP!
(okay folks, this was an April Fool's joke...please stop calling and offering to buy my collection!)
After thirty years of motorcycling - riding, wrenching, collecting, reading, writing - I've decided it's time to grow up, and give up motorcycling for good, for ever. It's taken up too many hours of my life, and now all the things I could have done are coming back to haunt me. If I had invested all the money I've spent on motorcycles and related stuff, I would be a very wealthy man right now.
My daughter is going off to college, I hardly spend time with her, now my opportunity is almost gone, and I must seize these last moments and get to know her better before she's grown up and gone. My wife is right that my motorcycles are an obsession, and really, since she asked me to choose, I choose her.
I now have 23 motorcycles for sale, an amazing collection of racing machinery, with a few roadsters thrown in for good measure (13 Velocettes, 2 Sunbeams, 2 Nortons, 2 Douglas', 1 Royal Enfield, 1 Rex Acme, 1 Scott, 1 Rudge). I'm also selling a 30 years' collection of motorcycle books, around 1500 volumes in all, just about everything published in English about motorcycles before 1950. Also, there's a big collection of vintage riding gear, helmets, posters, files, photographs, special tools, and literally tons of spare parts (rare magnetos/racing carbs/wheels/frames/ girder forks/etc.) Retail value of all this would be around $740,000. I'll sell the lot for a fraction of that - $150k - just get it out of my life, so I can do something more productive. I've got my real estate license now, and a publisher for my self-help book on addiction, 'Swamped by Stuff'. My new life is waiting, help me start it now, you'll get an absolute bargain.
Email me immediately if you're serious; vintagent1@aol.com. We can discuss how to get all this stuff from my space to yours. No financing, no partial lots - it's all or nothing at this price. I could put it all on ebay, but that would take a year, and I don't want to change my mind. April Fools!
I'M GIVING IT UP!
(okay folks, this was an April Fool's joke...please stop calling and offering to buy my collection!)
After thirty years of motorcycling - riding, wrenching, collecting, reading, writing - I've decided it's time to grow up, and give up motorcycling for good, for ever. It's taken up too many hours of my life, and now all the things I could have done are coming back to haunt me. If I had invested all the money I've spent on motorcycles and related stuff, I would be a very wealthy man right now.
My daughter is going off to college, I hardly spend time with her, now my opportunity is almost gone, and I must seize these last moments and get to know her better before she's grown up and gone. My wife is right that my motorcycles are an obsession, and really, since she asked me to choose, I choose her.
I now have 23 motorcycles for sale, an amazing collection of racing machinery, with a few roadsters thrown in for good measure (13 Velocettes, 2 Sunbeams, 2 Nortons, 2 Douglas', 1 Royal Enfield, 1 Rex Acme, 1 Scott, 1 Rudge). I'm also selling a 30 years' collection of motorcycle books, around 1500 volumes in all, just about everything published in English about motorcycles before 1950. Also, there's a big collection of vintage riding gear, helmets, posters, files, photographs, special tools, and literally tons of spare parts (rare magnetos/racing carbs/wheels/frames/ girder forks/etc.) Retail value of all this would be around $740,000. I'll sell the lot for a fraction of that - $150k - just get it out of my life, so I can do something more productive. I've got my real estate license now, and a publisher for my self-help book on addiction, 'Swamped by Stuff'. My new life is waiting, help me start it now, you'll get an absolute bargain.
Email me immediately if you're serious; vintagent1@aol.com. We can discuss how to get all this stuff from my space to yours. No financing, no partial lots - it's all or nothing at this price. I could put it all on ebay, but that would take a year, and I don't want to change my mind. April Fools!
Clubman's All-British Show, 2008
The 21st annual Clubman's All-British show was held last Saturday in San Jose, with the ususal strong attendance and extensive lineup of show bikes and parts vendors. Ebay hasn't killed the sales of old rubbish from even older men's garages - and lots of interesting spares and rare machines were available, had you brought the cash to carry.
This year's theme was 'Greeves', which isn't a very sexy marque, but the lineup of thirty blue and silver machines held my interest. I've always had a soft spot for their Essex 250cc two-stroke twin, and of course an example in original paint was for sale... no, I didn't. For attractive dirt-bikes, you can't beat their cast-aluminum frame on the scramblers, with the Earles forks up front; almost makes me want to play in the dirt, but I don't have enough room in my life for another branch of the hobby...
My favorite Greeves on show was the 'fresh from the swamp' oxidizer special, with ancient caked mud attached (see pic, with a coveted roadster twin - note alloy frame) . I took a perverse pleasure in that bike amidst all the ultra-shiny show bikes on display; honest, filthy, and ridden.
Once again I answered the call for judging the show machines, and pulled the 'cafe/custom' class, which was fine if not ideal, as I had owned an example of every bike in the group, bar a Triumph 750cc triple (which has never sparked my fire). The Trident was horned into a rigid frame, with a 3-into-1 open pipe, and while the owner had spent lots of time making carbon fiber goodies (rear fender! saddle! coil holder! brake switch fairing!), the overall artistry didn't hold a patch on Max's bikes (yes, his are Harleys, but when you're chopping, does it matter?).
Best in Show, although I wasn't asked, was this 1961 Triumph TR6R 650cc, which was shiny yes (they all are), but it had the day's best tale. One owner from new; purchased in '61 when he was 19 years old, stolen two weeks later, retrieved in pieces, stored for 40 years, then reassembled carefully. A few bits were stolen (speedo, seat, pipes), but he found New Old Stock replacements, and painted the tank, fenders, and side panels. All else was original; parts, wires, paint, plating, and rubber (even tires and innertubes). The paint job was a little too good, it would have been perfection to have replicated the mediocre factory paint, but overall the bike is a stunner, with 1140 original miles. I want it.
Paul Adams brought along his re-restored 1923 Norton 16H 'Sports'; he originally restored it in the 1980's, after finding it (with a flat-tank ohc Velo KSS - which went to Eddie Arnold) in Colorado in absolutely original condition. I thought it looked great before, now it looks superhuman. Note the uncomfortable downturned handlebars - absolutely as per 1923 catalog, and predating the 'Ton-up Boys' by 35 years! Also note interesting headstock transfer, which is period as well (click to enlarge). The Norton will be at the Legends concours in May, with a little more space around it. The Clubman's show is a bit crowded, I would prefer more space for a walk-around, even if it meant fewer bikes.
Also very good was a Bonneville (literally) 'streamliner-ish' Triumph, with a crude hand-hammered fairing and tail section. Chris Quinn of Wheelworks has owned it for 22 years. Purchased from a salvage yard ("I'm queer for aluminum fairings", said Chris), salted away in his expansive pile of bikes and spares, he decided just this year to put the bits together and see if it made a motorcycle. Now he's trying to find some history - see photo of 1961 Bonneville scrutineer's sticker on the fairing. So odd, so cool, I love the little blast-furnace window... all you need to see is the black line on the salt!
There's always a good swap meet as well; I found 'his 'n hers Raliegh bicycles', and a KSS/TT top end, with that scavenge oil pump I needed. A good day!
Atticus Young had a good time on my '29 Rudge TT Rep, too!
This year's theme was 'Greeves', which isn't a very sexy marque, but the lineup of thirty blue and silver machines held my interest. I've always had a soft spot for their Essex 250cc two-stroke twin, and of course an example in original paint was for sale... no, I didn't. For attractive dirt-bikes, you can't beat their cast-aluminum frame on the scramblers, with the Earles forks up front; almost makes me want to play in the dirt, but I don't have enough room in my life for another branch of the hobby...
My favorite Greeves on show was the 'fresh from the swamp' oxidizer special, with ancient caked mud attached (see pic, with a coveted roadster twin - note alloy frame) . I took a perverse pleasure in that bike amidst all the ultra-shiny show bikes on display; honest, filthy, and ridden.
Once again I answered the call for judging the show machines, and pulled the 'cafe/custom' class, which was fine if not ideal, as I had owned an example of every bike in the group, bar a Triumph 750cc triple (which has never sparked my fire). The Trident was horned into a rigid frame, with a 3-into-1 open pipe, and while the owner had spent lots of time making carbon fiber goodies (rear fender! saddle! coil holder! brake switch fairing!), the overall artistry didn't hold a patch on Max's bikes (yes, his are Harleys, but when you're chopping, does it matter?).
Best in Show, although I wasn't asked, was this 1961 Triumph TR6R 650cc, which was shiny yes (they all are), but it had the day's best tale. One owner from new; purchased in '61 when he was 19 years old, stolen two weeks later, retrieved in pieces, stored for 40 years, then reassembled carefully. A few bits were stolen (speedo, seat, pipes), but he found New Old Stock replacements, and painted the tank, fenders, and side panels. All else was original; parts, wires, paint, plating, and rubber (even tires and innertubes). The paint job was a little too good, it would have been perfection to have replicated the mediocre factory paint, but overall the bike is a stunner, with 1140 original miles. I want it.
Paul Adams brought along his re-restored 1923 Norton 16H 'Sports'; he originally restored it in the 1980's, after finding it (with a flat-tank ohc Velo KSS - which went to Eddie Arnold) in Colorado in absolutely original condition. I thought it looked great before, now it looks superhuman. Note the uncomfortable downturned handlebars - absolutely as per 1923 catalog, and predating the 'Ton-up Boys' by 35 years! Also note interesting headstock transfer, which is period as well (click to enlarge). The Norton will be at the Legends concours in May, with a little more space around it. The Clubman's show is a bit crowded, I would prefer more space for a walk-around, even if it meant fewer bikes.
Also very good was a Bonneville (literally) 'streamliner-ish' Triumph, with a crude hand-hammered fairing and tail section. Chris Quinn of Wheelworks has owned it for 22 years. Purchased from a salvage yard ("I'm queer for aluminum fairings", said Chris), salted away in his expansive pile of bikes and spares, he decided just this year to put the bits together and see if it made a motorcycle. Now he's trying to find some history - see photo of 1961 Bonneville scrutineer's sticker on the fairing. So odd, so cool, I love the little blast-furnace window... all you need to see is the black line on the salt!
There's always a good swap meet as well; I found 'his 'n hers Raliegh bicycles', and a KSS/TT top end, with that scavenge oil pump I needed. A good day!
Atticus Young had a good time on my '29 Rudge TT Rep, too!
Clubman's All-British Show, 2008
The 21st annual Clubman's All-British show was held last Saturday in San Jose, with the ususal strong attendance and extensive lineup of show bikes and parts vendors. Ebay hasn't killed the sales of old rubbish from even older men's garages - and lots of interesting spares and rare machines were available, had you brought the cash to carry.
This year's theme was 'Greeves', which isn't a very sexy marque, but the lineup of thirty blue and silver machines held my interest. I've always had a soft spot for their Essex 250cc two-stroke twin, and of course an example in original paint was for sale... no, I didn't. For attractive dirt-bikes, you can't beat their cast-aluminum frame on the scramblers, with the Earles forks up front; almost makes me want to play in the dirt, but I don't have enough room in my life for another branch of the hobby...
My favorite Greeves on show was the 'fresh from the swamp' oxidizer special, with ancient caked mud attached (see pic, with a coveted roadster twin - note alloy frame) . I took a perverse pleasure in that bike amidst all the ultra-shiny show bikes on display; honest, filthy, and ridden.
Once again I answered the call for judging the show machines, and pulled the 'cafe/custom' class, which was fine if not ideal, as I had owned an example of every bike in the group, bar a Triumph 750cc triple (which has never sparked my fire). The Trident was horned into a rigid frame, with a 3-into-1 open pipe, and while the owner had spent lots of time making carbon fiber goodies (rear fender! saddle! coil holder! brake switch fairing!), the overall artistry didn't hold a patch on Max's bikes (yes, his are Harleys, but when you're chopping, does it matter?).
Best in Show, although I wasn't asked, was this 1961 Triumph TR6R 650cc, which was shiny yes (they all are), but it had the day's best tale. One owner from new; purchased in '61 when he was 19 years old, stolen two weeks later, retrieved in pieces, stored for 40 years, then reassembled carefully. A few bits were stolen (speedo, seat, pipes), but he found New Old Stock replacements, and painted the tank, fenders, and side panels. All else was original; parts, wires, paint, plating, and rubber (even tires and innertubes). The paint job was a little too good, it would have been perfection to have replicated the mediocre factory paint, but overall the bike is a stunner, with 1140 original miles. I want it.
Paul Adams brought along his re-restored 1923 Norton 16H 'Sports'; he originally restored it in the 1980's, after finding it (with a flat-tank ohc Velo KSS - which went to Eddie Arnold) in Colorado in absolutely original condition. I thought it looked great before, now it looks superhuman. Note the uncomfortable downturned handlebars - absolutely as per 1923 catalog, and predating the 'Ton-up Boys' by 35 years! Also note interesting headstock transfer, which is period as well (click to enlarge). The Norton will be at the Legends concours in May, with a little more space around it. The Clubman's show is a bit crowded, I would prefer more space for a walk-around, even if it meant fewer bikes.
Also very good was a Bonneville (literally) 'streamliner-ish' Triumph, with a crude hand-hammered fairing and tail section. Chris Quinn of Wheelworks has owned it for 22 years. Purchased from a salvage yard ("I'm queer for aluminum fairings", said Chris), salted away in his expansive pile of bikes and spares, he decided just this year to put the bits together and see if it made a motorcycle. Now he's trying to find some history - see photo of 1961 Bonneville scrutineer's sticker on the fairing. So odd, so cool, I love the little blast-furnace window... all you need to see is the black line on the salt!
There's always a good swap meet as well; I found 'his 'n hers Raliegh bicycles', and a KSS/TT top end, with that scavenge oil pump I needed. A good day!
Atticus Young had a good time on my '29 Rudge TT Rep, too!
This year's theme was 'Greeves', which isn't a very sexy marque, but the lineup of thirty blue and silver machines held my interest. I've always had a soft spot for their Essex 250cc two-stroke twin, and of course an example in original paint was for sale... no, I didn't. For attractive dirt-bikes, you can't beat their cast-aluminum frame on the scramblers, with the Earles forks up front; almost makes me want to play in the dirt, but I don't have enough room in my life for another branch of the hobby...
My favorite Greeves on show was the 'fresh from the swamp' oxidizer special, with ancient caked mud attached (see pic, with a coveted roadster twin - note alloy frame) . I took a perverse pleasure in that bike amidst all the ultra-shiny show bikes on display; honest, filthy, and ridden.
Once again I answered the call for judging the show machines, and pulled the 'cafe/custom' class, which was fine if not ideal, as I had owned an example of every bike in the group, bar a Triumph 750cc triple (which has never sparked my fire). The Trident was horned into a rigid frame, with a 3-into-1 open pipe, and while the owner had spent lots of time making carbon fiber goodies (rear fender! saddle! coil holder! brake switch fairing!), the overall artistry didn't hold a patch on Max's bikes (yes, his are Harleys, but when you're chopping, does it matter?).
Best in Show, although I wasn't asked, was this 1961 Triumph TR6R 650cc, which was shiny yes (they all are), but it had the day's best tale. One owner from new; purchased in '61 when he was 19 years old, stolen two weeks later, retrieved in pieces, stored for 40 years, then reassembled carefully. A few bits were stolen (speedo, seat, pipes), but he found New Old Stock replacements, and painted the tank, fenders, and side panels. All else was original; parts, wires, paint, plating, and rubber (even tires and innertubes). The paint job was a little too good, it would have been perfection to have replicated the mediocre factory paint, but overall the bike is a stunner, with 1140 original miles. I want it.
Paul Adams brought along his re-restored 1923 Norton 16H 'Sports'; he originally restored it in the 1980's, after finding it (with a flat-tank ohc Velo KSS - which went to Eddie Arnold) in Colorado in absolutely original condition. I thought it looked great before, now it looks superhuman. Note the uncomfortable downturned handlebars - absolutely as per 1923 catalog, and predating the 'Ton-up Boys' by 35 years! Also note interesting headstock transfer, which is period as well (click to enlarge). The Norton will be at the Legends concours in May, with a little more space around it. The Clubman's show is a bit crowded, I would prefer more space for a walk-around, even if it meant fewer bikes.
Also very good was a Bonneville (literally) 'streamliner-ish' Triumph, with a crude hand-hammered fairing and tail section. Chris Quinn of Wheelworks has owned it for 22 years. Purchased from a salvage yard ("I'm queer for aluminum fairings", said Chris), salted away in his expansive pile of bikes and spares, he decided just this year to put the bits together and see if it made a motorcycle. Now he's trying to find some history - see photo of 1961 Bonneville scrutineer's sticker on the fairing. So odd, so cool, I love the little blast-furnace window... all you need to see is the black line on the salt!
There's always a good swap meet as well; I found 'his 'n hers Raliegh bicycles', and a KSS/TT top end, with that scavenge oil pump I needed. A good day!
Atticus Young had a good time on my '29 Rudge TT Rep, too!
Sunday, March 30, 2008
FILM REVIEW: 'BRITTOWN'
Almost by happenstance, Pete Young and I attended the very first public screening of the new film 'Brittown'. The directors were of course on hand to speak with, but they were almost shy about addressing the crowd - a refreshingly rare trait for people in the film industry. Brittown is being billed as a 'feature documentary', as it follows the real exploits of a fellow named Meatball (Jeff Tulunius), who is just crazy about old motorcycles, and 1960's Triumphs in particular. His home/compound in Pasadena has enough space for dozens of the bikes and cars which he seems to spend all his time working on. I couldn't tell if it was his business or a hobby gone mad, but his home is the sort of place where all the local Britbike enthusiasts cluster to have a beer and help assemble another bike. Interspersed with these sessions are trips to several hipster/rockabilly bars (where we see Meatball's band, Smiling Face Down - he sounds remarkably like Billy Idol in his Generation X days).
The backbone of the film is Meatball building up a '71 Triumph Bonneville (I know. I know...I've owned four of them for some reason) into a fast 60's style cafe racer; breaking down the engine, having port and polish work done on the cylinder head, etc. There isn't much time spent in the film on his cycle work (the rolling chassis magically appears towards the end of the film), but all is forgiven when my friend Mike Jongblood appears onscreen to help sort out the placement of the fenders. I would never in a million years think that Mike, the humblest and most talented metal-handler I know, would consent to a spot in a film!
The refrain in the film is 'that's enough work for the day', the cue for a spot of scrambling, flat-tracking, and roadracing on various BSAs and Triumphs.
I'll admit to having no 'distance' from this movie - it documents very well the life my friends and I lived from 1985-90, when we were all riding 60's Britbikes and 'TT' racing (Tavern to Tavern), and living together in warehouses or shared flats, with garages stuffed full of old motorcycles. Most of us survived. Amazingly, Jeff Tulinius has been living this lifestyle ever since.
(That's a photo of Jeff on his BSA scrambler)
The backbone of the film is Meatball building up a '71 Triumph Bonneville (I know. I know...I've owned four of them for some reason) into a fast 60's style cafe racer; breaking down the engine, having port and polish work done on the cylinder head, etc. There isn't much time spent in the film on his cycle work (the rolling chassis magically appears towards the end of the film), but all is forgiven when my friend Mike Jongblood appears onscreen to help sort out the placement of the fenders. I would never in a million years think that Mike, the humblest and most talented metal-handler I know, would consent to a spot in a film!
The refrain in the film is 'that's enough work for the day', the cue for a spot of scrambling, flat-tracking, and roadracing on various BSAs and Triumphs.
I'll admit to having no 'distance' from this movie - it documents very well the life my friends and I lived from 1985-90, when we were all riding 60's Britbikes and 'TT' racing (Tavern to Tavern), and living together in warehouses or shared flats, with garages stuffed full of old motorcycles. Most of us survived. Amazingly, Jeff Tulinius has been living this lifestyle ever since.
(That's a photo of Jeff on his BSA scrambler)
FILM REVIEW: 'BRITTOWN'
Almost by happenstance, Pete Young and I attended the very first public screening of the new film 'Brittown'. The directors were of course on hand to speak with, but they were almost shy about addressing the crowd - a refreshingly rare trait for people in the film industry. Brittown is being billed as a 'feature documentary', as it follows the real exploits of a fellow named Meatball (Jeff Tulunius), who is just crazy about old motorcycles, and 1960's Triumphs in particular. His home/compound in Pasadena has enough space for dozens of the bikes and cars which he seems to spend all his time working on. I couldn't tell if it was his business or a hobby gone mad, but his home is the sort of place where all the local Britbike enthusiasts cluster to have a beer and help assemble another bike. Interspersed with these sessions are trips to several hipster/rockabilly bars (where we see Meatball's band, Smiling Face Down - he sounds remarkably like Billy Idol in his Generation X days).
The backbone of the film is Meatball building up a '71 Triumph Bonneville (I know. I know...I've owned four of them for some reason) into a fast 60's style cafe racer; breaking down the engine, having port and polish work done on the cylinder head, etc. There isn't much time spent in the film on his cycle work (the rolling chassis magically appears towards the end of the film), but all is forgiven when my friend Mike Jongblood appears onscreen to help sort out the placement of the fenders. I would never in a million years think that Mike, the humblest and most talented metal-handler I know, would consent to a spot in a film!
The refrain in the film is 'that's enough work for the day', the cue for a spot of scrambling, flat-tracking, and roadracing on various BSAs and Triumphs.
I'll admit to having no 'distance' from this movie - it documents very well the life my friends and I lived from 1985-90, when we were all riding 60's Britbikes and 'TT' racing (Tavern to Tavern), and living together in warehouses or shared flats, with garages stuffed full of old motorcycles. Most of us survived. Amazingly, Jeff Tulinius has been living this lifestyle ever since.
(That's a photo of Jeff on his BSA scrambler)
The backbone of the film is Meatball building up a '71 Triumph Bonneville (I know. I know...I've owned four of them for some reason) into a fast 60's style cafe racer; breaking down the engine, having port and polish work done on the cylinder head, etc. There isn't much time spent in the film on his cycle work (the rolling chassis magically appears towards the end of the film), but all is forgiven when my friend Mike Jongblood appears onscreen to help sort out the placement of the fenders. I would never in a million years think that Mike, the humblest and most talented metal-handler I know, would consent to a spot in a film!
The refrain in the film is 'that's enough work for the day', the cue for a spot of scrambling, flat-tracking, and roadracing on various BSAs and Triumphs.
I'll admit to having no 'distance' from this movie - it documents very well the life my friends and I lived from 1985-90, when we were all riding 60's Britbikes and 'TT' racing (Tavern to Tavern), and living together in warehouses or shared flats, with garages stuffed full of old motorcycles. Most of us survived. Amazingly, Jeff Tulinius has been living this lifestyle ever since.
(That's a photo of Jeff on his BSA scrambler)
SUNBEAM REDUX
by James Johnson
It was a fine Easter here in northern California; I awoke early, full of anticipation of what the day would hold for me. Not many folks get a chance to ride three 1920's bikes in one day, and even fewer get to motor about on three bikes from such a renowned manufacturer as Sunbeam. In the garage, I noted my fuel tank was near empty - with my gas can at the shop, I had to check the tanks on the other bikes.... all near empty. I did however drain a quart of fuel between them; why do they all seem to come home empty!! That and the "Air Fairies" had stolen about 15lbs from the front tyre, so in went some air.
My 1924 Model 5 was just a bit hesitant to roll over when the time came to depart; you would think she would be all a-fluster with the prospect of some riding, and a little TLC this am... could she have been nervous about what the day would hold? (I know I get a bit strange when I am off to visit relatives.) She did eventually spring to life and settled down nicely, as I watched for oil to start dripping at the sight glass... I slowly pushed the manual pump until I saw the first sputter of oil in the glass. This is the signal to get this show on the road, so on went the gloves and helmet and away I went.
It's a short distance from my place to Paul's, with a fine view of the ocean. A bit of a chill wind came up but nothing to dampen my spirit.... the oil was still flowing and fuel was just down the hill at the station. I was beginning to remember what a pleasure it was to ride this bike and was looking forward to mounting the 1925 Model 6 ('Longstroke') later in the day. When I arrived, my Model 5 settled down to a VERY slow idle... she can be such a show off, as if she was setting the scene for the ride to come. But when Paul fired up the Model 6 I knew this would be anything but a sedate adventure. We started comparing the two machines... very similar yet VERY different. The Model 6 has some aftermarket development inflicted upon her - I was eager to see if it was a success.
We set off to Land's End for some photos for Paul's blog. Traffic was heaver than I expected on Easter, but we managed to find our way thru the cars and gave the girls a bit of stick up the hill; that Longstroke sure pulled nicely up the grade. We broke several local ordnances by wheeling the bikes into the park for photos; folks didn't seem to mind but the area was pretty crowded so we rode to a different location for more photos and perhaps a video.
Lake Merced was a short trip, but offered a nice sprint down the Great Highway, where we diced it up a bit, and even chased some modern bikes, whose riders seemed quite impressed. I smiled within, the Model 5 fell into her old habits and steadily pulled me along. She almost drives herself, allowing me to take in the scenery. The anticipation to ride the Model 6 was welling up - that bike sure sounded like it wanted to go... that it just wanted to be opened up... but caution prevailed, as the bike was largely untested (having just came out of a box the week before).
My chance finally came to mount the Longstroke... you could have not designed a more opposite riding position to the Model 5. The controls were similarly laid out, but you have to shape yourself to the bike.... I could see that this was not a touring machine, as even the riding position felt fast.
I prodded the M6 to life, found the position she wanted in, and off we went for a lap about the golf course. The bike really wanted input, all movements made by the operator must be VERY deliberate, as opposed to the M5, on which you simply push the shifter, set the controls and let the bike take you away. This beast required you to KNOW what you were doing. In any event the parade lap was far too short for my liking and I was thrilled when Paul offered to swap bikes on the way home. Some of the aftermarket work started to rear its ugly head... over-oiling filled up the oil sight-glass and she was bucking like a Georgia Mule, so I gave some more stick, and she started to settle down a bit. I would't call it nicely, but the bucking ceased and I was now moving at quite a pace (especially for a bike with effectively no brakes ). She was eager for more throttle - this bike is a cracker. I had to resist the urge to go flat out, balls to the wall... if it was mine I would have, but I didn't want to spend my summer looking for rare bike parts! In spite of my reluctance, the bucking ceased, the bike seemed happy, the oil sight-glass cleared... too bad we were already back at Paul's garage.
I reluctantly returned the bike, but was offered a spin on his 1928 Model 90... sadly I only went around the block twice. That bike REALLY wanted to GOOOOOO; I wasn't entirely sure how Paul would feel if I disappeared for and hour or so, as that's how long I would need to get comfortable on it, so a short test ride it would be... I will have to save the longer ride for another day. All in all a nice outing on three 1920's Sunbeams. I'm eager to repeat it.
It was a fine Easter here in northern California; I awoke early, full of anticipation of what the day would hold for me. Not many folks get a chance to ride three 1920's bikes in one day, and even fewer get to motor about on three bikes from such a renowned manufacturer as Sunbeam. In the garage, I noted my fuel tank was near empty - with my gas can at the shop, I had to check the tanks on the other bikes.... all near empty. I did however drain a quart of fuel between them; why do they all seem to come home empty!! That and the "Air Fairies" had stolen about 15lbs from the front tyre, so in went some air.
My 1924 Model 5 was just a bit hesitant to roll over when the time came to depart; you would think she would be all a-fluster with the prospect of some riding, and a little TLC this am... could she have been nervous about what the day would hold? (I know I get a bit strange when I am off to visit relatives.) She did eventually spring to life and settled down nicely, as I watched for oil to start dripping at the sight glass... I slowly pushed the manual pump until I saw the first sputter of oil in the glass. This is the signal to get this show on the road, so on went the gloves and helmet and away I went.
It's a short distance from my place to Paul's, with a fine view of the ocean. A bit of a chill wind came up but nothing to dampen my spirit.... the oil was still flowing and fuel was just down the hill at the station. I was beginning to remember what a pleasure it was to ride this bike and was looking forward to mounting the 1925 Model 6 ('Longstroke') later in the day. When I arrived, my Model 5 settled down to a VERY slow idle... she can be such a show off, as if she was setting the scene for the ride to come. But when Paul fired up the Model 6 I knew this would be anything but a sedate adventure. We started comparing the two machines... very similar yet VERY different. The Model 6 has some aftermarket development inflicted upon her - I was eager to see if it was a success.
We set off to Land's End for some photos for Paul's blog. Traffic was heaver than I expected on Easter, but we managed to find our way thru the cars and gave the girls a bit of stick up the hill; that Longstroke sure pulled nicely up the grade. We broke several local ordnances by wheeling the bikes into the park for photos; folks didn't seem to mind but the area was pretty crowded so we rode to a different location for more photos and perhaps a video.
Lake Merced was a short trip, but offered a nice sprint down the Great Highway, where we diced it up a bit, and even chased some modern bikes, whose riders seemed quite impressed. I smiled within, the Model 5 fell into her old habits and steadily pulled me along. She almost drives herself, allowing me to take in the scenery. The anticipation to ride the Model 6 was welling up - that bike sure sounded like it wanted to go... that it just wanted to be opened up... but caution prevailed, as the bike was largely untested (having just came out of a box the week before).
My chance finally came to mount the Longstroke... you could have not designed a more opposite riding position to the Model 5. The controls were similarly laid out, but you have to shape yourself to the bike.... I could see that this was not a touring machine, as even the riding position felt fast.
I prodded the M6 to life, found the position she wanted in, and off we went for a lap about the golf course. The bike really wanted input, all movements made by the operator must be VERY deliberate, as opposed to the M5, on which you simply push the shifter, set the controls and let the bike take you away. This beast required you to KNOW what you were doing. In any event the parade lap was far too short for my liking and I was thrilled when Paul offered to swap bikes on the way home. Some of the aftermarket work started to rear its ugly head... over-oiling filled up the oil sight-glass and she was bucking like a Georgia Mule, so I gave some more stick, and she started to settle down a bit. I would't call it nicely, but the bucking ceased and I was now moving at quite a pace (especially for a bike with effectively no brakes ). She was eager for more throttle - this bike is a cracker. I had to resist the urge to go flat out, balls to the wall... if it was mine I would have, but I didn't want to spend my summer looking for rare bike parts! In spite of my reluctance, the bucking ceased, the bike seemed happy, the oil sight-glass cleared... too bad we were already back at Paul's garage.
I reluctantly returned the bike, but was offered a spin on his 1928 Model 90... sadly I only went around the block twice. That bike REALLY wanted to GOOOOOO; I wasn't entirely sure how Paul would feel if I disappeared for and hour or so, as that's how long I would need to get comfortable on it, so a short test ride it would be... I will have to save the longer ride for another day. All in all a nice outing on three 1920's Sunbeams. I'm eager to repeat it.
SUNBEAM REDUX
by James Johnson
It was a fine Easter here in northern California; I awoke early, full of anticipation of what the day would hold for me. Not many folks get a chance to ride three 1920's bikes in one day, and even fewer get to motor about on three bikes from such a renowned manufacturer as Sunbeam. In the garage, I noted my fuel tank was near empty - with my gas can at the shop, I had to check the tanks on the other bikes.... all near empty. I did however drain a quart of fuel between them; why do they all seem to come home empty!! That and the "Air Fairies" had stolen about 15lbs from the front tyre, so in went some air.
My 1924 Model 5 was just a bit hesitant to roll over when the time came to depart; you would think she would be all a-fluster with the prospect of some riding, and a little TLC this am... could she have been nervous about what the day would hold? (I know I get a bit strange when I am off to visit relatives.) She did eventually spring to life and settled down nicely, as I watched for oil to start dripping at the sight glass... I slowly pushed the manual pump until I saw the first sputter of oil in the glass. This is the signal to get this show on the road, so on went the gloves and helmet and away I went.
It's a short distance from my place to Paul's, with a fine view of the ocean. A bit of a chill wind came up but nothing to dampen my spirit.... the oil was still flowing and fuel was just down the hill at the station. I was beginning to remember what a pleasure it was to ride this bike and was looking forward to mounting the 1925 Model 6 ('Longstroke') later in the day. When I arrived, my Model 5 settled down to a VERY slow idle... she can be such a show off, as if she was setting the scene for the ride to come. But when Paul fired up the Model 6 I knew this would be anything but a sedate adventure. We started comparing the two machines... very similar yet VERY different. The Model 6 has some aftermarket development inflicted upon her - I was eager to see if it was a success.
We set off to Land's End for some photos for Paul's blog. Traffic was heaver than I expected on Easter, but we managed to find our way thru the cars and gave the girls a bit of stick up the hill; that Longstroke sure pulled nicely up the grade. We broke several local ordnances by wheeling the bikes into the park for photos; folks didn't seem to mind but the area was pretty crowded so we rode to a different location for more photos and perhaps a video.
Lake Merced was a short trip, but offered a nice sprint down the Great Highway, where we diced it up a bit, and even chased some modern bikes, whose riders seemed quite impressed. I smiled within, the Model 5 fell into her old habits and steadily pulled me along. She almost drives herself, allowing me to take in the scenery. The anticipation to ride the Model 6 was welling up - that bike sure sounded like it wanted to go... that it just wanted to be opened up... but caution prevailed, as the bike was largely untested (having just came out of a box the week before).
My chance finally came to mount the Longstroke... you could have not designed a more opposite riding position to the Model 5. The controls were similarly laid out, but you have to shape yourself to the bike.... I could see that this was not a touring machine, as even the riding position felt fast.
I prodded the M6 to life, found the position she wanted in, and off we went for a lap about the golf course. The bike really wanted input, all movements made by the operator must be VERY deliberate, as opposed to the M5, on which you simply push the shifter, set the controls and let the bike take you away. This beast required you to KNOW what you were doing. In any event the parade lap was far too short for my liking and I was thrilled when Paul offered to swap bikes on the way home. Some of the aftermarket work started to rear its ugly head... over-oiling filled up the oil sight-glass and she was bucking like a Georgia Mule, so I gave some more stick, and she started to settle down a bit. I would't call it nicely, but the bucking ceased and I was now moving at quite a pace (especially for a bike with effectively no brakes ). She was eager for more throttle - this bike is a cracker. I had to resist the urge to go flat out, balls to the wall... if it was mine I would have, but I didn't want to spend my summer looking for rare bike parts! In spite of my reluctance, the bucking ceased, the bike seemed happy, the oil sight-glass cleared... too bad we were already back at Paul's garage.
I reluctantly returned the bike, but was offered a spin on his 1928 Model 90... sadly I only went around the block twice. That bike REALLY wanted to GOOOOOO; I wasn't entirely sure how Paul would feel if I disappeared for and hour or so, as that's how long I would need to get comfortable on it, so a short test ride it would be... I will have to save the longer ride for another day. All in all a nice outing on three 1920's Sunbeams. I'm eager to repeat it.
It was a fine Easter here in northern California; I awoke early, full of anticipation of what the day would hold for me. Not many folks get a chance to ride three 1920's bikes in one day, and even fewer get to motor about on three bikes from such a renowned manufacturer as Sunbeam. In the garage, I noted my fuel tank was near empty - with my gas can at the shop, I had to check the tanks on the other bikes.... all near empty. I did however drain a quart of fuel between them; why do they all seem to come home empty!! That and the "Air Fairies" had stolen about 15lbs from the front tyre, so in went some air.
My 1924 Model 5 was just a bit hesitant to roll over when the time came to depart; you would think she would be all a-fluster with the prospect of some riding, and a little TLC this am... could she have been nervous about what the day would hold? (I know I get a bit strange when I am off to visit relatives.) She did eventually spring to life and settled down nicely, as I watched for oil to start dripping at the sight glass... I slowly pushed the manual pump until I saw the first sputter of oil in the glass. This is the signal to get this show on the road, so on went the gloves and helmet and away I went.
It's a short distance from my place to Paul's, with a fine view of the ocean. A bit of a chill wind came up but nothing to dampen my spirit.... the oil was still flowing and fuel was just down the hill at the station. I was beginning to remember what a pleasure it was to ride this bike and was looking forward to mounting the 1925 Model 6 ('Longstroke') later in the day. When I arrived, my Model 5 settled down to a VERY slow idle... she can be such a show off, as if she was setting the scene for the ride to come. But when Paul fired up the Model 6 I knew this would be anything but a sedate adventure. We started comparing the two machines... very similar yet VERY different. The Model 6 has some aftermarket development inflicted upon her - I was eager to see if it was a success.
We set off to Land's End for some photos for Paul's blog. Traffic was heaver than I expected on Easter, but we managed to find our way thru the cars and gave the girls a bit of stick up the hill; that Longstroke sure pulled nicely up the grade. We broke several local ordnances by wheeling the bikes into the park for photos; folks didn't seem to mind but the area was pretty crowded so we rode to a different location for more photos and perhaps a video.
Lake Merced was a short trip, but offered a nice sprint down the Great Highway, where we diced it up a bit, and even chased some modern bikes, whose riders seemed quite impressed. I smiled within, the Model 5 fell into her old habits and steadily pulled me along. She almost drives herself, allowing me to take in the scenery. The anticipation to ride the Model 6 was welling up - that bike sure sounded like it wanted to go... that it just wanted to be opened up... but caution prevailed, as the bike was largely untested (having just came out of a box the week before).
My chance finally came to mount the Longstroke... you could have not designed a more opposite riding position to the Model 5. The controls were similarly laid out, but you have to shape yourself to the bike.... I could see that this was not a touring machine, as even the riding position felt fast.
I prodded the M6 to life, found the position she wanted in, and off we went for a lap about the golf course. The bike really wanted input, all movements made by the operator must be VERY deliberate, as opposed to the M5, on which you simply push the shifter, set the controls and let the bike take you away. This beast required you to KNOW what you were doing. In any event the parade lap was far too short for my liking and I was thrilled when Paul offered to swap bikes on the way home. Some of the aftermarket work started to rear its ugly head... over-oiling filled up the oil sight-glass and she was bucking like a Georgia Mule, so I gave some more stick, and she started to settle down a bit. I would't call it nicely, but the bucking ceased and I was now moving at quite a pace (especially for a bike with effectively no brakes ). She was eager for more throttle - this bike is a cracker. I had to resist the urge to go flat out, balls to the wall... if it was mine I would have, but I didn't want to spend my summer looking for rare bike parts! In spite of my reluctance, the bucking ceased, the bike seemed happy, the oil sight-glass cleared... too bad we were already back at Paul's garage.
I reluctantly returned the bike, but was offered a spin on his 1928 Model 90... sadly I only went around the block twice. That bike REALLY wanted to GOOOOOO; I wasn't entirely sure how Paul would feel if I disappeared for and hour or so, as that's how long I would need to get comfortable on it, so a short test ride it would be... I will have to save the longer ride for another day. All in all a nice outing on three 1920's Sunbeams. I'm eager to repeat it.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
THE GREATEST TT RACE? (Part 2)
by Dave Royston
The Race
Fog covered the Isle of Man on Friday June 21st, the appointed day of the 1935 Senior TT, and the race was postponed to 11 am the next day. As Saturday dawned, fog still covered the Island and many were concerned that the race could be cancelled. The start was put back half an hour to 11:30. With tension building, the clock crept towards the new deadline. Finally the fog lifted enough for the race to start; all involved looked to the event with great expectations.
With the winning tradition of Norton on his shoulders, Jimmie Guthrie, carrying number 1 as last year’s winner (pic 1 - the '35 Norton team; pic 2, Guthrie starting off), was first away and set off with fierce determination and at a pace no doubt intending to break the Moto Guzzi v-twin, or at least its rider’s spirit. Stanley Woods carrying number 30 (pic 3) started 14½ minutes later and set a steady pace. After the lap one, Guthrie was first at 26 minutes and 52 seconds; his teammate Rush was second, and Woods came by trailing by 28 seconds, and in third on corrected time. Norton must have been feeling confident, but was this part of a strategy by Woods? Perhaps a cautious lap to learn the conditions? Perhaps a top-heavy bike running with extra fuel? On the next lap the pace picked up. Jimmie Guthrie was riding the best race of his life so far and broke the lap record at 26 minutes and 31 seconds. But Woods had also picked up his pace and moved into second, but still came through 47 seconds behind on corrected time. Now that Guthrie was pushed to ride at a record pace, could it be maintained? Would his age at 38 tell over the length of this gruelling 7-lap, 3-hour race?
On the third lap, all teams took on fuel. Guthrie came into the pits after yet another lap record of 26 minutes and 28 seconds. The Norton team moved smoothly into well-practiced action and had him refuelled and out in 33 seconds, by an observing reporter’s stopwatch. Almost 15 minutes later Woods came into the pits, now 52 seconds behind and, to the surprise of onlookers, in a lightning stop, was away in 31 seconds, by the same watch. With such a short stop, there was speculation as to whether the twin had enough fuel to make the next four laps at record pace? This was especially relevant given Woods' experience with the Husqvarna (running out of fuel) the year before.
On the Fourth Lap, both Guthrie and Woods continued at near record pace. Motorcycling magazine shows pictures of both riders and their bikes coming down Bray Hill. The Norton has its front wheel in the air; the Moto Guzzi is firmly planted on the ground. It was said the sprung frame could be worth as much as 20 seconds a lap; would it? Woods closed the gap to 42 seconds.
On the fifth lap, Woods reduced the lap record to 26 minutes and 26 seconds, closing the gap to 29 seconds. He had pulled back 13 seconds on just one lap; the challenge was on.
We now come to the end of the critical sixth lap. Guthrie’s Norton went through without refueling. The Moto Guzzi team busied themselves, setting up for a fuel-stop, and the grandstand crowd expected Woods and the thirsty Guzzi to stop for fuel. Joe Craig may have thought Norton had the race won. It is said he had sent signals to his station at Glen Helen for Guthrie, almost ⅔ of a lap ahead, to ease his pace, perhaps fearing the record laps could fatigue the bike and the rider.
Stanley Woods and the Guzzi could be heard approaching the Grandstand. To the surprise of everyone but the Guzzi team, he shot through, on the tank, flat-out, now 26 seconds behind; man and machine on a mission. Could the Moto Guzzi pit-stop ploy have made a difference? Norton immediately rang through to their man in Ramsay, to signal Guthrie to speed up. It was now all up to Woods. As Mario Colombo (from a Guzzi perspective) puts it: “L’ultimo giro, il settimo, si svolge in un ’atmosfera di tormento e di sofferenza, gli occhi al cronometro, l’orecchio teso” (“The seventh and last lap unfolded in an atmosphere of suffering and torment, with all eyes on the stopwatches and all ears alert”). Reports were coming through that Woods was running fast all around the circuit: the Moto Guzzi ‘bicilindrica’ was rising to the occasion. At the base of the mountain, he had the gap down to 12 seconds; descending the mountain the bike was timed at 125mph. At Creg-Ny-Baa the gap was 6 seconds. Guthrie had come through on his seventh and final lap at near-record pace – he knew Woods well enough not to trust the signals. Colombo writes: "Guthrie arrived at the finish and silence fell like a tanigible thing; everyone had their eyes fixed on the final straight." Not 'everyone', it seems; the officials and the radio commentary, based on the times from the sixth lap, thought Guthrie had won. He was toasted and congratulated by the Governor of the Isle of Man. Motorcycling magazine has a photograph of the Guthrie and the bike surrounding by supporters as a smiling ‘winner’. An official was leading Guthrie to the microphone when, after 14½ minutes of suspense, a characteristic roar approached, and the red Guzzi with Woods “buried in the tank” flashed across the line. “A thousand stopwatches clicked and feverish calculations were made”. The official escorting Guthrie was stopped with the news that Woods had won by 4 seconds. He’d done it. Woods had ridden an outstanding last record lap (26minutes and 10 seconds, 86.53 mph). His race time was 3 hours 7 minutes and 10 seconds, an average speed of 84.68mph. The crowd understood the significance of the moment, setting aside any thoughts of the ‘foreign menace’, the grandstand rose to cheer the winning team and rider, “…spectators thronged around Guzzi, Parodi, Woods and the mechanics in a display of sporting spirit those present never forgot”.
Guthrie looked dazed by the abrupt change of fortune but took it in good grace, reflecting the depth of his character and reserved manner (off a bike!): he was amongst the first to congratulate Woods. After the race Jimmie Guthrie said; "I went as quick as I could but Stanley went quicker. I am sorry but I did the best I could." They were friends as well as rivals. Stanley Woods said years later: “I turned on everything I had on the last lap. I over-revved and beat him by 4 seconds and put up the lap record by 3-4 mph. And that (beating Norton), I think, gave me more satisfaction and more joy, the fact that I had beaten Norton. Its what I had set out to do. It was very very satisfactory”. Motorcycling magazine carried a second photograph with Stanley Woods, and his trademark grin, as the true winner of my ‘Greatest TT’.
Was the difference in those pit stops? It is possible both riders covered the ground in the same time. What about the fuel in Wood’s tank? A reporter said there was an inch in the bottom almost enough for another lap; it seems that the Guzzi did have an extra-large tank for the TT, maybe it was very full on the first slow laps. The Motorcycling magazine discusses whether the fake pit stop was sporting but accepts the tactic as legitimate (quaint considering team tactics these days). Perhaps for once 'the Fox' was just outfoxed?
What happened to these two great riders? Guthrie continued with Norton and turned the tables in the 1936 Senior TT (winning by 18 seconds over Woods now riding for Velocette). In 1937 Guthrie won the Junior but his bike broke down at ‘The Cutting’ in the Senior. He was killed later that year (at 40) while leading the German GP at the Sachsenring. Woods was slowed in that race (by broken fuel line) and saw a rider ahead too close to Guthrie. It was said the accident was a result of mechanical failure. Woods, interviewed in 1992, said he thought Guthrie had been forced off line and into the trees at the Noetzhold corner. Woods was the first on the scene and went with him to the hospital: “the surgeon came out and said that they'd revived him momentarily, but that he had died. You can imagine how I felt. We'd been friends, team-mates and rivals for ten years. I was shattered." The ‘Guthrie Memorial’ stands where he had stopped in his last TT; the ‘Guthrie Stone’ marks the accident spot at the Sachsenring.
Woods won the Junior TT for Velocette in 1938 and 1939; he was also a close second on his Velocette (behind Norton) in the Senior TTs of ’36,’37 and ’38 and just missed third (by 6 seconds) behind Freddie Frith (Norton) when the BMW supercharged bikes took first and second in 1939. Woods did not return to racing after 1945 but did test rides (including on the Guzzi V8 in’56) and demonstration rides at the TTs into his 80’s. It took Mike Hailwood to beat his ten TT wins. Stanley Woods died in 1993 aged 90, still regarded by many as the greatest rider of all
The Race
Fog covered the Isle of Man on Friday June 21st, the appointed day of the 1935 Senior TT, and the race was postponed to 11 am the next day. As Saturday dawned, fog still covered the Island and many were concerned that the race could be cancelled. The start was put back half an hour to 11:30. With tension building, the clock crept towards the new deadline. Finally the fog lifted enough for the race to start; all involved looked to the event with great expectations.
With the winning tradition of Norton on his shoulders, Jimmie Guthrie, carrying number 1 as last year’s winner (pic 1 - the '35 Norton team; pic 2, Guthrie starting off), was first away and set off with fierce determination and at a pace no doubt intending to break the Moto Guzzi v-twin, or at least its rider’s spirit. Stanley Woods carrying number 30 (pic 3) started 14½ minutes later and set a steady pace. After the lap one, Guthrie was first at 26 minutes and 52 seconds; his teammate Rush was second, and Woods came by trailing by 28 seconds, and in third on corrected time. Norton must have been feeling confident, but was this part of a strategy by Woods? Perhaps a cautious lap to learn the conditions? Perhaps a top-heavy bike running with extra fuel? On the next lap the pace picked up. Jimmie Guthrie was riding the best race of his life so far and broke the lap record at 26 minutes and 31 seconds. But Woods had also picked up his pace and moved into second, but still came through 47 seconds behind on corrected time. Now that Guthrie was pushed to ride at a record pace, could it be maintained? Would his age at 38 tell over the length of this gruelling 7-lap, 3-hour race?
On the third lap, all teams took on fuel. Guthrie came into the pits after yet another lap record of 26 minutes and 28 seconds. The Norton team moved smoothly into well-practiced action and had him refuelled and out in 33 seconds, by an observing reporter’s stopwatch. Almost 15 minutes later Woods came into the pits, now 52 seconds behind and, to the surprise of onlookers, in a lightning stop, was away in 31 seconds, by the same watch. With such a short stop, there was speculation as to whether the twin had enough fuel to make the next four laps at record pace? This was especially relevant given Woods' experience with the Husqvarna (running out of fuel) the year before.
On the Fourth Lap, both Guthrie and Woods continued at near record pace. Motorcycling magazine shows pictures of both riders and their bikes coming down Bray Hill. The Norton has its front wheel in the air; the Moto Guzzi is firmly planted on the ground. It was said the sprung frame could be worth as much as 20 seconds a lap; would it? Woods closed the gap to 42 seconds.
On the fifth lap, Woods reduced the lap record to 26 minutes and 26 seconds, closing the gap to 29 seconds. He had pulled back 13 seconds on just one lap; the challenge was on.
We now come to the end of the critical sixth lap. Guthrie’s Norton went through without refueling. The Moto Guzzi team busied themselves, setting up for a fuel-stop, and the grandstand crowd expected Woods and the thirsty Guzzi to stop for fuel. Joe Craig may have thought Norton had the race won. It is said he had sent signals to his station at Glen Helen for Guthrie, almost ⅔ of a lap ahead, to ease his pace, perhaps fearing the record laps could fatigue the bike and the rider.
Stanley Woods and the Guzzi could be heard approaching the Grandstand. To the surprise of everyone but the Guzzi team, he shot through, on the tank, flat-out, now 26 seconds behind; man and machine on a mission. Could the Moto Guzzi pit-stop ploy have made a difference? Norton immediately rang through to their man in Ramsay, to signal Guthrie to speed up. It was now all up to Woods. As Mario Colombo (from a Guzzi perspective) puts it: “L’ultimo giro, il settimo, si svolge in un ’atmosfera di tormento e di sofferenza, gli occhi al cronometro, l’orecchio teso” (“The seventh and last lap unfolded in an atmosphere of suffering and torment, with all eyes on the stopwatches and all ears alert”). Reports were coming through that Woods was running fast all around the circuit: the Moto Guzzi ‘bicilindrica’ was rising to the occasion. At the base of the mountain, he had the gap down to 12 seconds; descending the mountain the bike was timed at 125mph. At Creg-Ny-Baa the gap was 6 seconds. Guthrie had come through on his seventh and final lap at near-record pace – he knew Woods well enough not to trust the signals. Colombo writes: "Guthrie arrived at the finish and silence fell like a tanigible thing; everyone had their eyes fixed on the final straight." Not 'everyone', it seems; the officials and the radio commentary, based on the times from the sixth lap, thought Guthrie had won. He was toasted and congratulated by the Governor of the Isle of Man. Motorcycling magazine has a photograph of the Guthrie and the bike surrounding by supporters as a smiling ‘winner’. An official was leading Guthrie to the microphone when, after 14½ minutes of suspense, a characteristic roar approached, and the red Guzzi with Woods “buried in the tank” flashed across the line. “A thousand stopwatches clicked and feverish calculations were made”. The official escorting Guthrie was stopped with the news that Woods had won by 4 seconds. He’d done it. Woods had ridden an outstanding last record lap (26minutes and 10 seconds, 86.53 mph). His race time was 3 hours 7 minutes and 10 seconds, an average speed of 84.68mph. The crowd understood the significance of the moment, setting aside any thoughts of the ‘foreign menace’, the grandstand rose to cheer the winning team and rider, “…spectators thronged around Guzzi, Parodi, Woods and the mechanics in a display of sporting spirit those present never forgot”.
Guthrie looked dazed by the abrupt change of fortune but took it in good grace, reflecting the depth of his character and reserved manner (off a bike!): he was amongst the first to congratulate Woods. After the race Jimmie Guthrie said; "I went as quick as I could but Stanley went quicker. I am sorry but I did the best I could." They were friends as well as rivals. Stanley Woods said years later: “I turned on everything I had on the last lap. I over-revved and beat him by 4 seconds and put up the lap record by 3-4 mph. And that (beating Norton), I think, gave me more satisfaction and more joy, the fact that I had beaten Norton. Its what I had set out to do. It was very very satisfactory”. Motorcycling magazine carried a second photograph with Stanley Woods, and his trademark grin, as the true winner of my ‘Greatest TT’.
Was the difference in those pit stops? It is possible both riders covered the ground in the same time. What about the fuel in Wood’s tank? A reporter said there was an inch in the bottom almost enough for another lap; it seems that the Guzzi did have an extra-large tank for the TT, maybe it was very full on the first slow laps. The Motorcycling magazine discusses whether the fake pit stop was sporting but accepts the tactic as legitimate (quaint considering team tactics these days). Perhaps for once 'the Fox' was just outfoxed?
What happened to these two great riders? Guthrie continued with Norton and turned the tables in the 1936 Senior TT (winning by 18 seconds over Woods now riding for Velocette). In 1937 Guthrie won the Junior but his bike broke down at ‘The Cutting’ in the Senior. He was killed later that year (at 40) while leading the German GP at the Sachsenring. Woods was slowed in that race (by broken fuel line) and saw a rider ahead too close to Guthrie. It was said the accident was a result of mechanical failure. Woods, interviewed in 1992, said he thought Guthrie had been forced off line and into the trees at the Noetzhold corner. Woods was the first on the scene and went with him to the hospital: “the surgeon came out and said that they'd revived him momentarily, but that he had died. You can imagine how I felt. We'd been friends, team-mates and rivals for ten years. I was shattered." The ‘Guthrie Memorial’ stands where he had stopped in his last TT; the ‘Guthrie Stone’ marks the accident spot at the Sachsenring.
Woods won the Junior TT for Velocette in 1938 and 1939; he was also a close second on his Velocette (behind Norton) in the Senior TTs of ’36,’37 and ’38 and just missed third (by 6 seconds) behind Freddie Frith (Norton) when the BMW supercharged bikes took first and second in 1939. Woods did not return to racing after 1945 but did test rides (including on the Guzzi V8 in’56) and demonstration rides at the TTs into his 80’s. It took Mike Hailwood to beat his ten TT wins. Stanley Woods died in 1993 aged 90, still regarded by many as the greatest rider of all
THE GREATEST TT RACE? (Part 2)
by Dave Royston
The Race
Fog covered the Isle of Man on Friday June 21st, the appointed day of the 1935 Senior TT, and the race was postponed to 11 am the next day. As Saturday dawned, fog still covered the Island and many were concerned that the race could be cancelled. The start was put back half an hour to 11:30. With tension building, the clock crept towards the new deadline. Finally the fog lifted enough for the race to start; all involved looked to the event with great expectations.
With the winning tradition of Norton on his shoulders, Jimmie Guthrie, carrying number 1 as last year’s winner (pic 1 - the '35 Norton team; pic 2, Guthrie starting off), was first away and set off with fierce determination and at a pace no doubt intending to break the Moto Guzzi v-twin, or at least its rider’s spirit. Stanley Woods carrying number 30 (pic 3) started 14½ minutes later and set a steady pace. After the lap one, Guthrie was first at 26 minutes and 52 seconds; his teammate Rush was second, and Woods came by trailing by 28 seconds, and in third on corrected time. Norton must have been feeling confident, but was this part of a strategy by Woods? Perhaps a cautious lap to learn the conditions? Perhaps a top-heavy bike running with extra fuel? On the next lap the pace picked up. Jimmie Guthrie was riding the best race of his life so far and broke the lap record at 26 minutes and 31 seconds. But Woods had also picked up his pace and moved into second, but still came through 47 seconds behind on corrected time. Now that Guthrie was pushed to ride at a record pace, could it be maintained? Would his age at 38 tell over the length of this gruelling 7-lap, 3-hour race?
On the third lap, all teams took on fuel. Guthrie came into the pits after yet another lap record of 26 minutes and 28 seconds. The Norton team moved smoothly into well-practiced action and had him refuelled and out in 33 seconds, by an observing reporter’s stopwatch. Almost 15 minutes later Woods came into the pits, now 52 seconds behind and, to the surprise of onlookers, in a lightning stop, was away in 31 seconds, by the same watch. With such a short stop, there was speculation as to whether the twin had enough fuel to make the next four laps at record pace? This was especially relevant given Woods' experience with the Husqvarna (running out of fuel) the year before.
On the Fourth Lap, both Guthrie and Woods continued at near record pace. Motorcycling magazine shows pictures of both riders and their bikes coming down Bray Hill. The Norton has its front wheel in the air; the Moto Guzzi is firmly planted on the ground. It was said the sprung frame could be worth as much as 20 seconds a lap; would it? Woods closed the gap to 42 seconds.
On the fifth lap, Woods reduced the lap record to 26 minutes and 26 seconds, closing the gap to 29 seconds. He had pulled back 13 seconds on just one lap; the challenge was on.
We now come to the end of the critical sixth lap. Guthrie’s Norton went through without refueling. The Moto Guzzi team busied themselves, setting up for a fuel-stop, and the grandstand crowd expected Woods and the thirsty Guzzi to stop for fuel. Joe Craig may have thought Norton had the race won. It is said he had sent signals to his station at Glen Helen for Guthrie, almost ⅔ of a lap ahead, to ease his pace, perhaps fearing the record laps could fatigue the bike and the rider.
Stanley Woods and the Guzzi could be heard approaching the Grandstand. To the surprise of everyone but the Guzzi team, he shot through, on the tank, flat-out, now 26 seconds behind; man and machine on a mission. Could the Moto Guzzi pit-stop ploy have made a difference? Norton immediately rang through to their man in Ramsay, to signal Guthrie to speed up. It was now all up to Woods. As Mario Colombo (from a Guzzi perspective) puts it: “L’ultimo giro, il settimo, si svolge in un ’atmosfera di tormento e di sofferenza, gli occhi al cronometro, l’orecchio teso” (“The seventh and last lap unfolded in an atmosphere of suffering and torment, with all eyes on the stopwatches and all ears alert”). Reports were coming through that Woods was running fast all around the circuit: the Moto Guzzi ‘bicilindrica’ was rising to the occasion. At the base of the mountain, he had the gap down to 12 seconds; descending the mountain the bike was timed at 125mph. At Creg-Ny-Baa the gap was 6 seconds. Guthrie had come through on his seventh and final lap at near-record pace – he knew Woods well enough not to trust the signals. Colombo writes: "Guthrie arrived at the finish and silence fell like a tanigible thing; everyone had their eyes fixed on the final straight." Not 'everyone', it seems; the officials and the radio commentary, based on the times from the sixth lap, thought Guthrie had won. He was toasted and congratulated by the Governor of the Isle of Man. Motorcycling magazine has a photograph of the Guthrie and the bike surrounding by supporters as a smiling ‘winner’. An official was leading Guthrie to the microphone when, after 14½ minutes of suspense, a characteristic roar approached, and the red Guzzi with Woods “buried in the tank” flashed across the line. “A thousand stopwatches clicked and feverish calculations were made”. The official escorting Guthrie was stopped with the news that Woods had won by 4 seconds. He’d done it. Woods had ridden an outstanding last record lap (26minutes and 10 seconds, 86.53 mph). His race time was 3 hours 7 minutes and 10 seconds, an average speed of 84.68mph. The crowd understood the significance of the moment, setting aside any thoughts of the ‘foreign menace’, the grandstand rose to cheer the winning team and rider, “…spectators thronged around Guzzi, Parodi, Woods and the mechanics in a display of sporting spirit those present never forgot”.
Guthrie looked dazed by the abrupt change of fortune but took it in good grace, reflecting the depth of his character and reserved manner (off a bike!): he was amongst the first to congratulate Woods. After the race Jimmie Guthrie said; "I went as quick as I could but Stanley went quicker. I am sorry but I did the best I could." They were friends as well as rivals. Stanley Woods said years later: “I turned on everything I had on the last lap. I over-revved and beat him by 4 seconds and put up the lap record by 3-4 mph. And that (beating Norton), I think, gave me more satisfaction and more joy, the fact that I had beaten Norton. Its what I had set out to do. It was very very satisfactory”. Motorcycling magazine carried a second photograph with Stanley Woods, and his trademark grin, as the true winner of my ‘Greatest TT’.
Was the difference in those pit stops? It is possible both riders covered the ground in the same time. What about the fuel in Wood’s tank? A reporter said there was an inch in the bottom almost enough for another lap; it seems that the Guzzi did have an extra-large tank for the TT, maybe it was very full on the first slow laps. The Motorcycling magazine discusses whether the fake pit stop was sporting but accepts the tactic as legitimate (quaint considering team tactics these days). Perhaps for once 'the Fox' was just outfoxed?
What happened to these two great riders? Guthrie continued with Norton and turned the tables in the 1936 Senior TT (winning by 18 seconds over Woods now riding for Velocette). In 1937 Guthrie won the Junior but his bike broke down at ‘The Cutting’ in the Senior. He was killed later that year (at 40) while leading the German GP at the Sachsenring. Woods was slowed in that race (by broken fuel line) and saw a rider ahead too close to Guthrie. It was said the accident was a result of mechanical failure. Woods, interviewed in 1992, said he thought Guthrie had been forced off line and into the trees at the Noetzhold corner. Woods was the first on the scene and went with him to the hospital: “the surgeon came out and said that they'd revived him momentarily, but that he had died. You can imagine how I felt. We'd been friends, team-mates and rivals for ten years. I was shattered." The ‘Guthrie Memorial’ stands where he had stopped in his last TT; the ‘Guthrie Stone’ marks the accident spot at the Sachsenring.
Woods won the Junior TT for Velocette in 1938 and 1939; he was also a close second on his Velocette (behind Norton) in the Senior TTs of ’36,’37 and ’38 and just missed third (by 6 seconds) behind Freddie Frith (Norton) when the BMW supercharged bikes took first and second in 1939. Woods did not return to racing after 1945 but did test rides (including on the Guzzi V8 in’56) and demonstration rides at the TTs into his 80’s. It took Mike Hailwood to beat his ten TT wins. Stanley Woods died in 1993 aged 90, still regarded by many as the greatest rider of all
The Race
Fog covered the Isle of Man on Friday June 21st, the appointed day of the 1935 Senior TT, and the race was postponed to 11 am the next day. As Saturday dawned, fog still covered the Island and many were concerned that the race could be cancelled. The start was put back half an hour to 11:30. With tension building, the clock crept towards the new deadline. Finally the fog lifted enough for the race to start; all involved looked to the event with great expectations.
With the winning tradition of Norton on his shoulders, Jimmie Guthrie, carrying number 1 as last year’s winner (pic 1 - the '35 Norton team; pic 2, Guthrie starting off), was first away and set off with fierce determination and at a pace no doubt intending to break the Moto Guzzi v-twin, or at least its rider’s spirit. Stanley Woods carrying number 30 (pic 3) started 14½ minutes later and set a steady pace. After the lap one, Guthrie was first at 26 minutes and 52 seconds; his teammate Rush was second, and Woods came by trailing by 28 seconds, and in third on corrected time. Norton must have been feeling confident, but was this part of a strategy by Woods? Perhaps a cautious lap to learn the conditions? Perhaps a top-heavy bike running with extra fuel? On the next lap the pace picked up. Jimmie Guthrie was riding the best race of his life so far and broke the lap record at 26 minutes and 31 seconds. But Woods had also picked up his pace and moved into second, but still came through 47 seconds behind on corrected time. Now that Guthrie was pushed to ride at a record pace, could it be maintained? Would his age at 38 tell over the length of this gruelling 7-lap, 3-hour race?
On the third lap, all teams took on fuel. Guthrie came into the pits after yet another lap record of 26 minutes and 28 seconds. The Norton team moved smoothly into well-practiced action and had him refuelled and out in 33 seconds, by an observing reporter’s stopwatch. Almost 15 minutes later Woods came into the pits, now 52 seconds behind and, to the surprise of onlookers, in a lightning stop, was away in 31 seconds, by the same watch. With such a short stop, there was speculation as to whether the twin had enough fuel to make the next four laps at record pace? This was especially relevant given Woods' experience with the Husqvarna (running out of fuel) the year before.
On the Fourth Lap, both Guthrie and Woods continued at near record pace. Motorcycling magazine shows pictures of both riders and their bikes coming down Bray Hill. The Norton has its front wheel in the air; the Moto Guzzi is firmly planted on the ground. It was said the sprung frame could be worth as much as 20 seconds a lap; would it? Woods closed the gap to 42 seconds.
On the fifth lap, Woods reduced the lap record to 26 minutes and 26 seconds, closing the gap to 29 seconds. He had pulled back 13 seconds on just one lap; the challenge was on.
We now come to the end of the critical sixth lap. Guthrie’s Norton went through without refueling. The Moto Guzzi team busied themselves, setting up for a fuel-stop, and the grandstand crowd expected Woods and the thirsty Guzzi to stop for fuel. Joe Craig may have thought Norton had the race won. It is said he had sent signals to his station at Glen Helen for Guthrie, almost ⅔ of a lap ahead, to ease his pace, perhaps fearing the record laps could fatigue the bike and the rider.
Stanley Woods and the Guzzi could be heard approaching the Grandstand. To the surprise of everyone but the Guzzi team, he shot through, on the tank, flat-out, now 26 seconds behind; man and machine on a mission. Could the Moto Guzzi pit-stop ploy have made a difference? Norton immediately rang through to their man in Ramsay, to signal Guthrie to speed up. It was now all up to Woods. As Mario Colombo (from a Guzzi perspective) puts it: “L’ultimo giro, il settimo, si svolge in un ’atmosfera di tormento e di sofferenza, gli occhi al cronometro, l’orecchio teso” (“The seventh and last lap unfolded in an atmosphere of suffering and torment, with all eyes on the stopwatches and all ears alert”). Reports were coming through that Woods was running fast all around the circuit: the Moto Guzzi ‘bicilindrica’ was rising to the occasion. At the base of the mountain, he had the gap down to 12 seconds; descending the mountain the bike was timed at 125mph. At Creg-Ny-Baa the gap was 6 seconds. Guthrie had come through on his seventh and final lap at near-record pace – he knew Woods well enough not to trust the signals. Colombo writes: "Guthrie arrived at the finish and silence fell like a tanigible thing; everyone had their eyes fixed on the final straight." Not 'everyone', it seems; the officials and the radio commentary, based on the times from the sixth lap, thought Guthrie had won. He was toasted and congratulated by the Governor of the Isle of Man. Motorcycling magazine has a photograph of the Guthrie and the bike surrounding by supporters as a smiling ‘winner’. An official was leading Guthrie to the microphone when, after 14½ minutes of suspense, a characteristic roar approached, and the red Guzzi with Woods “buried in the tank” flashed across the line. “A thousand stopwatches clicked and feverish calculations were made”. The official escorting Guthrie was stopped with the news that Woods had won by 4 seconds. He’d done it. Woods had ridden an outstanding last record lap (26minutes and 10 seconds, 86.53 mph). His race time was 3 hours 7 minutes and 10 seconds, an average speed of 84.68mph. The crowd understood the significance of the moment, setting aside any thoughts of the ‘foreign menace’, the grandstand rose to cheer the winning team and rider, “…spectators thronged around Guzzi, Parodi, Woods and the mechanics in a display of sporting spirit those present never forgot”.
Guthrie looked dazed by the abrupt change of fortune but took it in good grace, reflecting the depth of his character and reserved manner (off a bike!): he was amongst the first to congratulate Woods. After the race Jimmie Guthrie said; "I went as quick as I could but Stanley went quicker. I am sorry but I did the best I could." They were friends as well as rivals. Stanley Woods said years later: “I turned on everything I had on the last lap. I over-revved and beat him by 4 seconds and put up the lap record by 3-4 mph. And that (beating Norton), I think, gave me more satisfaction and more joy, the fact that I had beaten Norton. Its what I had set out to do. It was very very satisfactory”. Motorcycling magazine carried a second photograph with Stanley Woods, and his trademark grin, as the true winner of my ‘Greatest TT’.
Was the difference in those pit stops? It is possible both riders covered the ground in the same time. What about the fuel in Wood’s tank? A reporter said there was an inch in the bottom almost enough for another lap; it seems that the Guzzi did have an extra-large tank for the TT, maybe it was very full on the first slow laps. The Motorcycling magazine discusses whether the fake pit stop was sporting but accepts the tactic as legitimate (quaint considering team tactics these days). Perhaps for once 'the Fox' was just outfoxed?
What happened to these two great riders? Guthrie continued with Norton and turned the tables in the 1936 Senior TT (winning by 18 seconds over Woods now riding for Velocette). In 1937 Guthrie won the Junior but his bike broke down at ‘The Cutting’ in the Senior. He was killed later that year (at 40) while leading the German GP at the Sachsenring. Woods was slowed in that race (by broken fuel line) and saw a rider ahead too close to Guthrie. It was said the accident was a result of mechanical failure. Woods, interviewed in 1992, said he thought Guthrie had been forced off line and into the trees at the Noetzhold corner. Woods was the first on the scene and went with him to the hospital: “the surgeon came out and said that they'd revived him momentarily, but that he had died. You can imagine how I felt. We'd been friends, team-mates and rivals for ten years. I was shattered." The ‘Guthrie Memorial’ stands where he had stopped in his last TT; the ‘Guthrie Stone’ marks the accident spot at the Sachsenring.
Woods won the Junior TT for Velocette in 1938 and 1939; he was also a close second on his Velocette (behind Norton) in the Senior TTs of ’36,’37 and ’38 and just missed third (by 6 seconds) behind Freddie Frith (Norton) when the BMW supercharged bikes took first and second in 1939. Woods did not return to racing after 1945 but did test rides (including on the Guzzi V8 in’56) and demonstration rides at the TTs into his 80’s. It took Mike Hailwood to beat his ten TT wins. Stanley Woods died in 1993 aged 90, still regarded by many as the greatest rider of all
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