Resurrection, Inc.
Resurrection, Inc.
UP FRONT
David Edwards
PUTTING OUT A MONTHLY MAGAZINE is like crossing a minefield. No matter how good you are, sometimes things get messy.
We had just such a mishap while putting together last December’s issue. After months of negotiations, our exclusive “Vincent Reborn” cover story on Barney Li’s restart of the legendary British road-burner had blown up. A promised riding impression had been gutted. Seems we would be saddled with a top speed of just 40 mph! Reasons given? The engineers at Roush Industries had built the Black Lightning as a running prototype/display piece, not something to be roadtested by a bunch of magazine yahoos. As such, it was “without papers,” unregistered and unlicensed. A simple roadside stop by the local constabulary might land the one-off machine in an impound lot-not the best of PR moves on the eve of its rollout to the rest of the press and, more importantly, potential investors. Li’s lawyers were also very antsy about outsiders riding the untried machine. The imposed 40-mph limit was apparently calculated to give us a good chance of limping away should the thing fold up on itself beneath us.
Appreciate the concern, I told Li, but sorry, Cycle World would not be telling the world about the second coming of the mighty Vincent V-Twin, formerly the fastest motorcycle on all of planet Earth, if we weren’t allowed to get the damned contraption out of second gear! The ghost of Rollie Free, clad in swim trunks and a bathing cap, would haunt the offices forever.
Rip up Page One, then?
Not so fast. The road course at our regular testing venue, California Speedway, was in use, but the facility had 300 acres of empty parking lot and a ring road bordered by lush, manicured grass perfect for photo passes. Better yet, track security guards had no radar guns, no ticket books and no tow trucks on call.
Okay, relented Li, and our ride was back on. The bike was trailered to Fontana and unloaded for our perusal. Axle nuts tight, swingarm pivot likewise, tires aired up, brakes operable, throttle free, I hopped on, thumbed the Honda RC51 motor to life and blipped it up to operating temperature, reveling in the Superbike bawl let loose by its twin open pipes. Time for a shakedown run. A leisurely row through the gearbox saw 101 flash on the digital speedo, straight and true-so much for 40 mph.
Of course, the big question concerning the new Vincent, or any of the recent rash of resurrections-by my count, eight of the Grand Olde Marques are in various stages of revivification-is not if hand-built, carved-from-billet prototypes will move down the road under their own power. No, it’s if they’ll graduate from novelty status and make it to assembly lines as products of viable motorcycle companies. On that count, the jury is still very much out.
Of the restarts, Triumph is the only outfit with a truly firm future. Privately bankrolled to the tune of $50 million by U.K. entrepreneur John Bloor, Triumph has been back in business for more than a decade, selling a wide range of product, most of it decidedly un-retro. Returned from the dead, Triumph is now a major player in the world motorcycle market, mixing it up with Ducati and BMW.
Indian’s startup was considerably more muddled. It involved convicted flimflam artists and hoodwinked investors, trademark battles and bankruptcy courts, Native American tribesmen and carpetbagging Canadians, bodged-up Harley clones and immaculate but non-running mockups. From that sordid soap opera emerged a company that overproduced bikes while under-delivering on quality, but new management, new investment capital and a new (well, okay, much less clone-like) powerplant have turned things around. Currently, the new Indian is producing about 4000 bikes a year.
Not the case with Excelsior-Henderson. In the glory days before the dot.com crash, when money flowed and sound business plans were thought to be passé, two chopper-building brothers from Minnesota went on an almost evangelistic mission to bring the famed Super X back to life. What they fashioned instead was a lesser Harley-Davidson with a funny front end. That, and a lot of angry investors holding the bag, wondering where their $100 million went.
Across the Atlantic on that Blessed Plot, a company called BSA Regal has been selling Yamaha SR500s tarted up to look like Gold Stars, but last year it showed the Tempest, powered by a twin-cylinder sidecar-MX engine. Dubious but interesting, though there’s been no news since.
Not so with Norton. First, there was that Nemesis V-8 mess from a couple of years ago. That inevitably imploded, but some of the same shady characters reformed and last summer issued a press release announcing some kind of V-Twin Norton cruiser. Meanwhile, Kenny Dreer of Vintage Rebuilds fame has started a second company, Norton America, and is fighting a two-front campaign-one in the R&D shed designing an all-new Commando, the other in courtrooms trying to unravel the rights to the Norton trademark. Count us in Kenny’s comer.
And, bless ’em, let’s not forget the Italians. Beset by money problems, the reconstituted MV Agusta F5S may be the best lOOOcc sportbike you’ll never get a chance to buy. Likewise, if the beautiful Benelli Tre’s gestation period mns any longer, specialists will need to be brought in. Maybe the just-announced Laverda SFC 1000, with Aprilia backing, will have a more direct path to market.
As the staff old-bike guy and someone with “real” Indians, BSAs and Nortons, plus an MV Agusta and Laverda RGS in his garage, I get all the crank letters decrying these latter-day resuscitations. Sorry, don’t share the outrage. Far as I can see, the con artists have been chased off, investors have wised up and the parties remaining have a real affinity for the bikes they’re trying to bring back to life. Besides, more motorcycles are better than fewer-especially if they can blast past 100 mph at will and sound like a misguided Superbike in the process.
