Kawasaki H1

Kawasaki H1 1960s Japanese classic motorcycle

Kawasaki built its first bike – a 125cc two-stroke – in 1960. From the outset, Kawasaki was synonymous with high-performance sports bikes. Bikes like the H1, for instance. Technically, it was released at the tail-end of the Sixties. But, it is one of those machines which make lovers of Seventies superbikes come over all misty-eyed. That was the decade in which the H1 was most often seen – being ridden hell for leather – along the highways and byways of Britain. And, indeed, other locales – usually in the same high-spirited fashion. It was what two-strokes were made for, basically. And, if the H1’s handling was a tad imprecise – at least as compared with bikes of today – hey, it only added to the fun!

The H1’s 500cc three-cylinder engine output 60bhp. The ‘stroker’ motor screamed all the way to a top speed of 120mph. It did so in a way that induced mile-wide eyes – and smiles – in those brought up on a strict ‘Brit bike’ diet. Heck, the sound alone was worth the asking price! The H1’s slimmed-down weight of 383lb only added to its searing acceleration. Revs peaked at 7,500rpm – with a noticeable surge as they hit the power band.

Kawasaki’s first forays into motorcycle manufacture had been influenced by BSA. By the time of the H1, though, the Japanese giant had forged its own style. Middleweight though it was, the H1 passed muster among the big Seventies ‘muscle bikes’. Naked aggression more than made up for its diminutive dimensions. The Kawasaki H1 hurled bodies and souls into two-stroke hyperdrive. Some ’70s bikers never fully recovered!

Honda CB750

There is a case to be made for considering the Honda CB750 to be the point at which motorcycling’s modern age began. Technically, it was released in ’69 – but its presence so suffused the Seventies that it cannot but be grouped with bikes of that decade. Kawasaki’s Z1 is often thought of as the first Japanese ‘superbike’. Timeline-wise, though, it was the CB750 that was first out of the traps – and by a full four years, at that.

The CB750’s four across-the-frame cylinders were a clear signal there was a new kid on biking’s block. The shiny quartet of chrome exhausts reinforced the message. The CB750 was a muscular-looking motorcycle. But, it was stylish muscularity. The rounded tank was sleek and shapely. The multi-spoked wheels were a latticed delight. Paintwork and chrome vied for attention. At the time, the CB’s front disc brake was technologically advanced. Highish handlebars – and a well-padded seat – were tailor-made for long journeys. So, it made sense for the 750 to be pitched as the perfect all-rounder.

Unsurprisingly, the CB was a big success in the showrooms. That was only to be expected from a bike which topped out at 125mph – and also handled well. Honda’s rivals duly fell over themselves to try to match it. Over time, then, the CB750 furthered motorcycling’s cause. By setting a benchmark, it forced manufacturers worldwide to follow suit. In the form of the Honda CB750, the day of the modern Jap classic had dawned!

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!

Moto Guzzi Daytona 1000

It is probably not a bad marketing plan to name a bike after an iconic American circuit. It is one fraught with danger, however. Turn out a machine which does not do justice to that arena … and you will look a tad daft! No such worries, though, for Moto Guzzi. When the Daytona 1000 was launched – in ’92 – its moniker was nothing if not apt. After all, the Daytona was designed by ‘Dr John’ Wittner. He was an ex-racer/engineer. Indeed – back in the day – he had jacked in dentistry, to go to Guzzi. Not surprising, really. To fans of the brand, Guzzi’s Mandello HQ was near-mythical. Dr John successfully campaigned Guzzis in the late ’80s. Now, he sought to cement that legacy – in the shape of a road-going superbike.

The Daytona was directly descended from track-based exploits. It was a gimme, then, that it handled beautifully. Of course, the Daytona engine was suitably detuned. That said, it was still fitted with fuel injection – via its four valves per cylinder. 95bhp was duly on tap – equating to a top speed of 150mph. In tandem with that, the V-twin’s torque curve was typically steep.

When it comes to motorcycles, Moto Guzzi have honed many a two-wheeled gem over the years. The Daytona 1000 was just the latest in a long line of dependable, attractive products, from the Italian stalwart. In the Daytona 1000, Dr John had dished up a mouth-watering superbike. The ex-dentist’s toothsome two-wheeled delights would be savoured by bikers for years to come. Many a radiant smile resulted!

BMW K1

Back in the day, BMW bikes were borderline staid. That all changed with the K1. Design-led flair and panache were dripping off it. The K1 looked the absolute business – and BMW did plenty of it, as a result!

In engineering terms, the K1 was straight out of the top drawer. That said, BMW know no other way! Suspension was set up per the Paralever system – specially formulated for shaft-drive power trains. The K-series engine featured four horizontally-opposed cylinders – the flat layout having been a BMW trademark since the year dot. This time around, though, it was fuel-injected. Cue 100bhp. And a top speed of 145mph.

The K1 was stylistically stunning. Paint and bodywork blended into a cool mélange. Cool was not a word which had been overused for BMW, in the past … at least, not so far as its motorcycle department was concerned! The K1, though, was a visual harbinger of ‘Beemers’ to come. Indeed, BMW would go on to produce some of the best-looking bikes on the planet. Of course, Teutonic technical class came as standard!

Aprilia RSV Mille

The designers of the Aprilia RSV Mille could never be accused of muddied intent. A lap-timer – fitted to a road bike – told you all you needed to know. Of course, it went without saying that the data would only ever have been examined at track-days! That said, commuting could never have felt more like competing.

The rest of the Mille was pretty purposeful, too. Which is what you would expect from a machine derived from a World Superbike. Its sibling – the Aprilia RS250 – was similarly sourced from the bike that took the 250cc GP title. The Mille’s lap-timer was starting to make sense!

Certainly, the Mille’s chassis was impeccably race-bred. It was held together by a twin-spar aluminium frame. The engine – a fuel-injected 60° V-twin – produced 128bhp. Aerodynamically, the RSV was about as slippery as it gets. The result was a top speed of 165mph. Not surprisingly, the bike was a great commercial success. All in all, then, the Aprilia RSV Mille had cemented its place in the top stratum of Italian sports bikes.

Yamaha YZF R1

The Yamaha YZF R1 was about as close to a racer as a road-bike gets. Everything about it screamed speed. Its fairing parted air like a shark shifts water. Its tail-piece was sharp enough to shave with. In terms of its tech-spec, the R1 tasted number-crunching good! A power output of 160bhp. A dry weight of 389lb. A top speed of 170mph. Satisfying stats, to be sure!

But, the R1 was not just quick and aerodynamic – it was agile as an acrobat. Indeed, so flickable was it, that it was almost to a fault. Especially for younger riders, the R1 could made corners a bit too tempting! Short and slim, its wheelbase was minimal. All the better for flying through bends. Engine-wise, there were 5 valves per cylinder. 20 minuscule parts – doing a mechanised dance of staggering precision. Cycle parts were state of the art. Suspension and brakes were razor-responsive. In every department, the R1 excelled. As you would expect, it sold in shedloads!

The R1 is the kind of machine lives get built around. It inspires not so much dedication – as devotion. Whether at R1 owners’ rallies, track days or production racing events, the bike instils pride – and confidence – like few others. The Yamaha YZF R1 was a two-wheeled icon. And that will not be changing anytime soon!

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