Classicism And the Modern Bike

Classicism and the modern bike

LEANINGS

Peter Egan

My FRIEND JIM, WHO USED TO RIDE BIKES and doesn't anymore, stopped by with his family for a visit last weekend and took the mandatory after-dinner drink-sipping tour of my humble workshop and garage. He carefully looked over my Ducati 900SS SP, felt its carbon-fiber parts, examined the monoshock rear suspension, stood up and said, "Well, that's a pretty bike. I have to be honest, though, and tell you I don't think it's as good looking as your old silver and blue bevel-drive 900SS."

I considered, that comment for a mo ment and smiled. "No, you're right," I said. "It works better than my old one, but it's not as handsome."

A strange conclusion coming from me, the bike's owner. I happen to think the current 900SS is one of the best looking bikes around. I have a large color picture of it on the wall of my office and I look at it often, with great satisfaction. I love the flow of the full fairing, the low narrowness of the front perspective, the depth of its red paint and its suggestion of bird cage lightness.

But my friend i.s right. I don't think-and have never thought-it is as classically handsome a bike as the old bevel-drive 900SS, or the 750SS before that.

How can you compare a riveted alu minum exhaust canister (or its carbon fiber replacement) with the seamless, tapered chrome beauty of an upswept Conti with its bell-curved tip?

Can black plastic over a toothed-belt camdrive ever replace the finned, pol ished tower and triangular bevel gear cover of a shaft-driven cam? Are down draft Mikunis, buried in hoses and wires, a substitute for a pair of back swept Deli'Ortos with velocity stacks?

Of course not. If God is in the de tails, the old 900SS sits near the right hand of the Father and the new 900SS is a mere messenger angel of the mid dle kingdom. There's no comparison.

The new bike succeeds as the sum of its parts, but the old one has betterlooking parts, even when they are held separately in your hands. And when you put them back on the motorcycle, the sum is better still. The old bike is simple, clean and purposeful in a way that technology, federal regulations and fashion do not allow the new one to be; it's high-tech industrial utility vs. artisanship.

I should say quickly here that this is not necessarily a tome to the good old days, so much as a wistful observation from one who is in the gradual process of shifting mounts as we near the end of the millennium. Out with the old and in with the new.

For instance: I sold my old, highmileage BMW R100RS last year to my friend Barry Mirkin, despite my belief that the old RS is one of the great classic shapes. Why did I sell it? Because I was planning to buy a new generation Ri 100RS. Haven't yet, but probably will eventually. More power, better brakes, better handling, a real alternator and I like the way the new bike looks. A lot.

But is it as c'assic in form as the old Ri OORS?

Not in my book. Actually, I believe the silver-smoke R9OS of the mid-Sev enties was probably the most beautiful bike BMW ever made (if the Earles fork buffs in the crowd will excuse a little heresy). It was to BMW what the Series I E-Type was to Jaguar, and I despair of either company ever repeat ing the feat. I think someday in the future when children go skipping through the BMW museum, it's the R9OS that'll stop them in their tracks. Does me.

triumphs!

Same thing. The new bikes work bet ter, last longer, go faster, and a few models are quite handsome. The Speed Triple is one of my favorites, and the new T595 Daytona is a piece of work. But has anyone ever suggested that any new Triumph is the aesthetic equal of a 1967 Bonneville?

Not within my hearing.

Seems to design goes opment that golden age, classic form. on, embellish cally, but end or rutting the me that every branch of through a phase of devel leads up to its own small a period of irreducibly After that, people add and progress technologi up either gilding the lily netals on crooked.

And I happen to think the mid-'60s through the mid-'70s were one of those small golden eras for motorcycling.

Is this just age speaking? Could be, but I'm skeptical of the "my-genera tion" theory.

Fighter aircraft, for instance, got continually better after WWII, yet I would trade you several F-104s for a Supermarine Spitfire, a P-38 Light ning or a P-51. And I wasn't even there at the time they were made.

Lots of examples here: The M-1 Garand of WWII looks better to me than either the M-14 or the M-16 of my own Army years; the handsomest buildings on the nearby university campus were built before the Civil War, while those built after WWII are-by popular vote of almost every one who uses them-lar~e1v dreadful.

And Lauren Bacall, who's old enough to be my mother, still has more class in reruns of To Have and Have Not (1944) than any actress I've seen recently.

So age alone doesn't explain it. Near ly all of us recognize some high point in art, music, movies, literature, etc. that occurred before we were born. We seem drawn to even the most ancient periods of proportion and quality quite naturally, with just a little exposure.

Could it be mere perspective, then? Don't think so. When I saw my first BMW R9OS, Ducati 750SS or Tri umph Bonneville, they set off an al most audible humming of pleasure in my brain, and I knew instantly they were classics.

Didn't have to ask anyone or discuss it; I just knew. Everyone did.

Maybe that's what a classic bike is: The complete absence of doubt, done in metal.