Bimota DB1

Bimota DB1 1980s Italian sports bike

The Bimota DB1 was a double dose of Italiana. It was the first Bimota to feature a Ducati engine. So, the DB1 combined a deliciously torquey powerplant with the kind of looks that could only have been modelled in Italy. Bimota was based in Rimini. Unsurprisingly, then, the DB1 sold well. It came at a critical juncture for the stylish Italian specials builder. Design-driven to its core, business was never Bimota’s strong suit. Indeed – prior to the DB1’s ’86 release – the firm was in financial decline. Thanks to the new bike, though, Bimota’s downward spiral was stemmed – and even reversed. Crucially – along with its long list of virtues – the DB1 was reasonably priced.

The Ducati factor in the DB1 was its desmo-valved engine. A sohc 90° V-twin, the 750cc motor made 76bhp. Built more for mid-range grunt than throttle-to-the-stop velocity, top speed for the DB1 was 130mph. In superbike terms, that stat was not too much to write home about. The way it was reached, however, most certainly was. Suffice to say, acceleration was fierce. As well as its long-stroke motor, the rest of the DB1’s tech-spec further fueled its free-revving fire. For a start, it weighed a skeletal 354lb. Plus, Federico Martini – Bimota’s lead engineer – blended the fairing, tank and seat into a single, streamlined shape.

Acrobatic handling was only icing on the DB1 cake. Suspension was by Marzocchi. Brakes by Brembo. Pirelli brought low-profile tyres to the DB1’s bend-swinging party. They were fitted to nimble 16″ wheels. The whole bike was comfortabe and compact. It is true that at peak revs, the new Bimota was not the most blistering bike on the block. But, for its overall strengths – and the Italianate cut of its jib – the DB1 takes its place at the Superbikes top table!

Bimota HB2

The HB2 was the second offering from Bimota – the radical Italian bike builder. The HB1 had set the template. Massimo Tamburini – Bimota’s chief designer – totalled a Honda CB750, at Misano racetrack. Tamburini managed to salvage its four-cylinder engine from the wreckage. He then wrapped it in Bimota bodywork. The resulting HB1 – Honda/Bimota – hybrid became the first of the firm’s stylish, trend-setting roadsters.

The HB2 upped the ante, power-wise, from the HB1. The new bike sourced its motor from Honda’s CB900F. 95bhp was duly available. And the Bimota was lighter than the big Honda CB. It weighed just 441lb. State of the art suspension was then fitted. At the front, Ceriani teles were synced with a progressive-rate monoshock at the back. A tubular steel/aluminium plate frame added still more stability to the mix. With a 138mph top speed – and high-class handling – the HB2 etched a technical benchmark. Bimota had taken the superbike fight to its Oriental rivals. Pretty impressive from a small-scale manufacturer – certainly as compared with the Japanese ‘big four’.

Not that the Bimota challenge came as a surprise to Honda, Suzuki, Kawasaki and Yamaha. In no particular order, by the way! After all, Bimota had been around the GP scene a while by then. In the showrooms, their unique selling-point was super-cool Italian looks – plus a Japanese engine! Sadly – even for a bespoke builder like Bimota – less than 200 HB2s were sold. The HB3 came to the rescue – to some extent, at least. It sealed the deal on the Honda/Bimota alliance. Like the HB2, the HB3 upgraded the package. This time, the Honda CB1100R engine was used. By that point, the Japanese marques were leading the pack again, in terms of overall performance. Notwithstanding – with their HB2 – Bimota had blazed a trail for beautiful, brain-bending motorbikes!

Bimota SB2

The ‘SB’ stood for Suzuki/Bimota. It signalled Bimota’s standard practice of incorporating other marques’ engines into its own bespoke chassis. In the case of the SB2, power was provided by the Suzuki GS750. The 8-valve inline-four motor peaked at 68bhp. That gave the the SB2 a top speed of 130mph. Credit was also due to its slippery lines. A dry weight of just 440lb sealed the high-speed deal. This was still the Seventies, do not forget.

The driving force behind the SB2 was Massimo Tamburini. He had been a Bimota co-founder. Tamburini fitted the ‘legendary engineer’ bill to a tee. In his time, he had designed chassis for 250 and 350cc World Championship-winning bikes. In ’77, Tamburini tipped his technical brilliance into the new Bimota. It was a gimme, then, that the SB2 would handle as well as it went. Ceriani telescopic forks – and a first-of-its-kind rear monoshock – did the business suspension-wise. They were duly hitched up to a tubular steel space-frame. The monoshock alone separated the SB2 from its rivals … in every sense of the word!

First and foremost, though, a Bimota is about style. As befits a firm from Rimini, Italy. Certainly, the SB2 ran true to form, in that regard. Its bodywork wrote the book on ‘swoopy’. The tank protector/seat was a self-supporting one-piece – which saved the weight of a subframe. That innovation – like the rising-rate rear shock – would subsequently be seen on mass-produced machines. So, Bimota – that consummate special-builder – had done what it did best. In the beguiling form of the SB2, it merged dynamite design and top-drawer technology. Again!

Panther M100

A swift glance at the Panther M100 showed up its most striking asset. Compared with your average engine design, the M100’s looked distinctly skewed. Enter the 598cc Sloper motor. It was tilted forward 45°. If that caused technically-minded riders to be concerned about oil circulation, no worries. The M100 was eminently reliable.

The Sloper’s cylinder block was blessed with a long stroke. 100mm, to be precise. Hence an abundance of neck-twisting torque. In a good way! That was handy – since many M100s had side-cars attached. This was before automobiles were two a penny, after all. The M100’s top speed was 68mph. And if you were the one wedged in the Watsonian ‘chair’, that was probably quite quick enough!

Panther was based in Cleckheaton, Yorkshire. No surprise, then, that its bikes were solid, rugged and dependable! Panther started out as Phelon and Moore (P&M). The first Sloper-equipped bike appeared in 1904. The single-cylinder push-rod powerplant came with two air-cooled overhead valves. Sporting its dramatically-inclined mill, a parked-up Panther was guaranteed to draw a crowd. It was only made bigger by the way in which the exhausts swooped down from the steeply-banked ports. And this from a bike born and bred in Yorkshire … not a county associated with razzmatazz. As alluded to, this was a time when motorcycles and side-cars were still standard family transport. It followed that a Panther’s top priority was to get from A to B – and back again – with a minimum of fuss. The M100 accomplished that – and with style thrown in, for good measure. Connoisseurs of classic motorcycles, rejoice!

Suzuki T20 Super Six

For Suzuki, bikes like the T20 Super Six were a long time in the making. Originally, silk was the route to success for the Japanese company. Specifically, silk looms. In 1909, Michio Suzuki founded a firm to produce said items. It was not until ’54 that Suzuki became … well, Suzuki! For, it was in that year that it built its first bike – the 90cc Colleda. It was taken – hot off the production line – to the Mount Fuji hill-climb, where it saw off all-comers. The motorcycle world would never be the same again.

Fast forward to ’66. It was a great year for two reasons. England, of course, won the World Cup … oh, and Suzuki served up the Super Six. Suzuki went global with the the T20. It was named Super Six after its 6-speed gearbox. But, innovative engineering did not stop there. Its 2-stroke engine featured the Posi-Force lubrication system. And – holding the engine securely in situ – was Suzuki’s first twin-cradle frame. That – combined with a dry weight of just 304lb – meant the T20 handled with aplomb. The parallel-twin motor made 29bhp. Top speed was 95mph. Suffice to say, the Super Six sold by the shedload!

The T20 was a good-looking bike. Lustrous paintwork – plus gleaming chrome – made for a notably fetching finish. Festooned around it were neat design touches. The front-end, especially, was drafted with panache. What with an intricately-spoked wheel, finely-crafted forks and elegantly raised ‘bars, the T20 did not stint on detail. So, a landmark machine, from one of the all-time greats. Suzuki’s T20 Super Six mixed speed and style – to most impressive effect!

MV Agusta 750 Sport

The MV Agusta 750 Sport was race-bred. A straight line could be drawn from the roadster to Meccanica Verghera’s competition machines. They were fettled in Gallerate, near Milan, Italy. MV ruled the racing roost, at the time. The 750 Sport’s clip-on ‘bars – and humped-back seat – gave the game away. Add to them, a 4-leading-shoe Grimeca front brake – and a chrome quartet of megaphone exhausts. All were clear pointers to the Sport’s race-track roots.

The 750’s top speed of 120mph was good going in the Seventies. Especially, since the bike was a tad portly. It weighed in at 506lb. Its in-line 4-cylinder engine produced 69bhp – at 7,900rpm. Power was supplied via gear-driven twin overhead camshafts.

Compared to its rivals in the showrooms, the 750 Sport was expensive. Suffice to say, it did not sell well. To be fair, MV had little choice but to up the price. The complexities of the Sport’s engine – and labour-intensive production processes – all had to be paid for. From a purely commercial standpoint, then, the Sport turned out to be another nail in MV’s coffin. Count Domenico Agusta had founded MV, in ’45. In ’71, he suffered a fatal heart attack. With him went the soul of MV. Indeed, it was not long afterward that the marque shut up shop. The lacklustre sales of the 750 Sport had not helped. From a non-commercial point of view, however, the MV Agusta 750 Sport summed up the spirit of motorcycling like few other bikes!

Ducati 250 Desmo

 

Ducati’s 250 Desmo was a nailed down design classic. The firm began in Bologna, in ’26 – producing electrical parts. That might generate a few wry smiles amongst Brit bikers of a certain age. Italian machines have traditionally been noted more for aesthetic than technical perfection. Especially in the wiring department!

At any rate, Ducati’s signature engine set-up was ‘desmodromic’. It saw valves closed by cams – rather than springs. The goal was more precise control of valve-gear components. For a marque so synonymous with styling, then, ‘desmo’ was definitely a feather in Ducati’s parts cap. The 250 was the baby of the newly engineered range. Though of reduced capacity compared to its bigger siblings, the 250 was still blessed with a fair lick of speed. Indeed, it fell just a tad short of the totemic ‘ton’. In handling terms, too, the 250 had plenty in its favour. Weighing in at less than 300lb – and with finely-tuned suspension – its rubber side remained resolutely glued to the tarmac. Saying that, clip-on ‘bars, rear-set footrests and a solo seat coaxed riders into finding the limits of adhesion!

The Desmo was designed by Leo Tartarini. He drew the 250 with simple, strong lines. They were all that was needed. The bike had dynamism built-in – by dint of its ‘racy’ parts list. So, the 250 was as strong visually, as it was technically. Certainly, its desmodromic valve-train was a key asset. But, it also possessed poised and purposeful looks – belying its size. Dimunitive it may have been, but the Ducati 250 Desmo married technological innovation with innate Italian good looks!

Triumph Speed Triple

In ’83, Triumph looked dead in the water. Finally, the once-famous firm went into receivership. If it was to survive, it needed a saviour – and fast! Up to the plate strode multi-millionaire building magnate, John Bloor. A new HQ was set up in Hinckley, England. That was not a million miles away from the original Triumph factory – in Meriden, Birmingham. For the next eight years, Bloor and his colleagues planned a new range of Triumphs. One of them would be the Speed Triple. Throwing off the shackles of the wilderness years, the new bikes would be modern marvels of engineering. There would also, though, be design references to Triumph’s glory days.

In ’91, six new Triumphs rolled into the showrooms. The parallel twins of yore were no more. Now, three- and four-cylinder engines were the norm – complete with double overhead camshafts and water-cooling. Stylistically, a sea change had occurred. The new ‘British’ bikes were as futuristically slick as their Far Eastern counterparts. Indeed, their suspension and brakes had been made in Japan. Notwithstanding, they were clutched to the ‘Brit Bike’ bosom with eager arms. Whilst there were reservations amongst dyed-in-the-wool riders, a new breed of bikers was just glad to have a British brand-name back in motorcycling’s mix.

The names of the new arrivals harked back to the past. Trident, Trophy, Thunderbird … these were legendary labels! In ’94, came the Speed Triple. For bikers of a certain age, that evoked memories of the Sixties’ Speed Twin. Technically, though, it was state of the art. Saying that, Triumph had long turned out a tasty ‘triple’. But, this was a three-cylinder machine with some major updates. As a result, it clocked up a top speed of 130mph. 97bhp was output from an 885cc motor. The bike’s ‘naked’ look – devoid of a fairing – pared weight down to 460lb dry. It also lent itself to lean and aggressive styling. Road tests were positive. The Speed Triple was competent in every category. Unsightly oil stains were a thing of the past. A mighty marque was back on its feet. The Triumph Speed Triple – and its second-generation siblings – would take another tilt at the two-wheeled big time!

Norton Commando Fastback 750

Unlike some of its ‘Brit bike’ brethren, the Norton Commando Fastback 750 was a smooth and comfortable ride. Well, by 1960s standards, anyway. That was due, in no small part, to Norton’s proprietary engine-mounting set-up. Made up mostly of rubber, it was dubbed ‘isolastic’. The Commando’s motor was a parallel twin – not a layout synonymous with seamless power delivery. The isolastic system, though, duly dialled out the worst excesses of the inherent engine vibrations.

Norton had long prided itself on its bikes’ handling prowess. The Commando turned out to be no exception. In ’73, the bike was taken to the toughest road test of all – the Isle of Man TT race. Norton’s road-holding claims were upheld. Peter Williams – the Commando’s rider – took the Formula 750 trophy.

The road-going Fastback’s performance was almost as impressive. Its 745cc motor put out 58bhp. And with the Commando weighing in at just 418lb, that meant a top speed of 117mph. With so much all-rounder status in its pocket, the Commando was bound to sell well. Sadly, though, not well enough to save Norton from its date with financial destiny. For its uncommon blend of style and substance, however, the Commando Fastback 750 will be forever revered by classic bike enthusiasts!

KTM Adventure 990

The KTM Adventure 990 was made in Austria. Produced between 2006-13, it was designed to be dual-purpose. The Adventure was equally at home both on and off road. At least, that is what the marketing men said! Its engine – the LC8 liquid-cooled 4-stroke 75° V-twin – was tailor-made for rough terrain. Power output was 105bhp. Capacity was 999cc – to be precise. With a dry weight of 461lb, the Adventure maxed out at 123mph – on flat tarmac!

R & D for the Adventure was the Paris-Dakar Rally. Lessons learned from that hotbed of competition trickled down to the roadster. Probably not too much pre-release testing was needed after that! The Adventure’s long-travel suspension came courtesy of Dutch masters WP. The flexible tubular steel frame was almost identical to that on the 950 desert racer. So, indeed, were many other parts. Fabrizio Meoni sat tall in the saddle. He won two of the three Paris-Dakars preceding the Adventure’s release. Not a bad sales pitch!

Styling-wise, the Adventure was supermodel svelte. But, a model that packed a punch! At 6,750 rpm, no less than 100 N-m of torque was on tap. And – thanks to its chromium-molybdenum trellis frame – the Adventure rolled with the punches, too. Anything that less than snooker-table smooth green lanes could throw at it, anyway! As far as all-round capabilities go, then, the KTM Adventure 990 was about as kitted-out as a motorbike gets!

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