Rally At Red Rocks
Rally at Red Rocks
UP FRONT
David Edwards
WHEN IT COMES TO JOINING ORGANIZAtions, I faithfully subscribe to the views of that great Borscht Belt philosopher Julius Henry Marx, who proclaimed, "I wouldn't want to belong to any club that would have me as a member." (Of course, Groucho also said, "Those are my principles. If you don't like them, I have others.")
Anyway, despite not being a duespaying member, I get invites to all kinds of motorcycle-club events, . most of which I have to turn down because of time/distance constraints. Sometimes, though, the planets line. up, the magazine is put to bed and I’ve got a new bike that needs riding. So it was that I came to be loading up the big CW van with all the things most important in my life— Girlfriend Peggy, Dog Ned, SS880 Commando Special and plenty of Lynyrd Skynyrd road tunes-headed for the International Norton Owners’ Association Rally in Torrey, Utah, a mere 10-hour drive away.
Subtitled “Red Rock Rally” and ably hosted by the Utah British Bike Club, the four-day event was set in the scenic south-central part of the state, known for its spectacular sandr stone-and-shale formations in varying hues of red and brown. Watch a setting sun play its rays off the cliffs and you’ll know why the native Piutes named this place “Land of the Sleeping Rainbow.”
About 360 INOA members made the trek to Utah, some riding in from as far away as New York. Long-distance award went to Don and Shirley Danmeier, who saddled up their Interstate 850, departed California, made a short sidetrip to Canada (!), then hightailed it to Utah. At rally’s end, they had to hurry home in order to make the national Velocette Rally the next weekend. Got it bad.
Well-burnished Commandos made up most of the rally fleet, though all types of machines were welcome, even an odd Harley or Honda RC51. It must be pointed out, though, that during several organized group rides, the chase truck was needed only to retrieve a Ducati, a Moto Guzzi and two Yamahas. No Nortons. Somewhere up in heaven, ol’ James Landsdowne Norton, gone since 1925, must have cracked a wry smile.
Founded in 1975, about the same time Norton production was winding down, the INOA (517/851-7437; www.inoanorton.com) comprises 1400 members in the U.S. and Canada. President Suzi Greenway speaks for the group when she says, “Nortons are such great basic machines. They feel so good, giving all the sensory input one needs-and you don’t have to wonder what’s going on beneath all that plastic bodywork. They sound incredible. And they’re beautiful-every line works.”
She’s right about the sound. Nothing else with pushrods makes noises like a big Norton Twin working its way to redline. Triumphs sound puny by comparison, Harleys positively crude. Imagine the rumpus, then, when 150 of us hit the road for Friday’s big ride, 130 miles on Highway 12, a designated scenic byway. Glorious stuff!
Picked by our sister book Car and Driver as one of the 10 best backroads in America, Highway 12 winds its way though pine forests and aspen groves, past slickrock formations and the ever-present red-rock canyons. Save for the occasional misplaced cattle grate or errant deer, this is world-class swervery, accompanied by sweeping panoramic vistas. One of our group said, “Whoever built this road was a Norton man.” My guess is that you’ll be seeing Highway 12 in an upcoming Cycle World sport-touring shootout.
One highlight is the convoluted “Hogsback” section, basically a paved ridgetop with imposing dropoffs on either side. INOA Veep Tom Kullen paid me a huge compliment on the return leg when he suggested we trade bikes just before the Hogsback. Roadgoing Norton FI Rotaries being in short supply stateside (there’s maybe two), I vowed to keep the Spondonframed rocket between the lines and out of the freefall zones. Impressive piece. Not a whole lot of charisma from the Wankel mill, but lightweight and with great steering feel. Norton’s rotary resurrection, which included a surprise win at the Isle of Man, fizzled in 1992, but it’s an appropriate coda to the Norton legacy-far better than the V-Eight Nirvana inanity of recent years.
I’ve always thought it a tragedy that the 850 Commando-most viable of the old Britbikes thanks to its vibe-killing Isolastic engine mounts-couldn’t have held on through the Seventies, so that it might have been “Evo-ized” in the Eighties a la Harley-Davidson. A modern Norton with pumped-up power, triple-disc stoppage, an electric starter that actually did and oil leaks that didn’t would be an appealing addition to the Super Standards lineup you’ll find elsewhere in this issue.
Nortons that remain on the road today are an interesting lot. Because they can be, Commandos are ridden harder than your average classic bike. In turn, owners upgrade at will-so much so that (like Harleys) there’s really no such thing as a 100 percent stock Norton. Neither are Norton lovers slaves to the Lord Carnauba, much preferring to be out ridin’ rather than home waxin’.
Proving the point, my Kenny Dreerbuilt Commando, a mix-n-match concoction of Norton bits from various models plus a sprinkling of modern components, was awarded Best of Show at the rally’s concours. Nudging the SS ahead of some scrumptious, sanitary bikes were the 10 bonus points I’d earned by taking part in two of the group rides. As one of the judges later told me, “This club has always been about riding.”
Apologies to Groucho, then, say hello to the newest member of the International Norton Owners’ Association. Well, if they’ll have me...
