This little machine was an anomaly when it appeared on the
showroom floors in 1968; though it was a rather attractive motorcycle, it was
powered by an old-fashioned single-cylinder OHV engine.
Back in the 1950s 250cc and smaller motorcycles abounded all
over Europe, providing cheap transportation in an economy that was still
struggling to overcome the aftereffects of World War II. But as the world’s
finances grew stronger, the utilitarian 250 gave way to the Volkswagen, Fiat
500, Austin A40, and the market for these utilitarian machines virtually
vanished.
In 1968 quarter-liter bikes were still popular but as sport
rather than utility vehicles. Just about every manufacturer had one or two. Lots
were two-strokes, like the Montesa Scorpion and Bultaco Metralla singles, or the
Yamaha Catalina and Kawasaki Samurai twins, and a few four-stroke singles, like
Ducati’s Mark 3 Desmo, Benelli’s Barracuda, Harley’s Aermacchi 250 with a
race-bred pushrod engine, and the rather unexciting British offerings, the
Triumph TR25 and BSA Starfire. Those last two were very similar machines,
differing only in styling and badges.
The loop frame used a single downtube mating with a pair of
tubes cradling the engine. A shrouded fork and shocks, and a nacelle around the
headlight, were the antithesis of the sporting image. Years rolled on, sales
were lackluster, and BSA decided it had to change the dowdy appearance. And
performance. And name. The 1966 C15 Sportsman got the nacelle ripped off the
headlight, open springs on the rear shocks, and a racy little hump at the back
of the long, flat seat.
Good, but not good enough. The factory decided to spend some money, and the B25
Starfire (C25 in Europe) appeared on the American market in 1968. A new cylinder
barrel was cast, with the pushrod tunnel enclosed behind the newly squared-off
fins. (A 441cc version, the B44, was also built, but that is another story.) A
bigger 28mm Amal Concentric carburetor was fitted, a “hotter” camshaft, and the
compression ratio went up to 10:1. A single set of points (so easy to adjust!)
sat inside a little cover on the right side of the engine, and the electrics
were 12 volt.
The very first Starfires to come into this country had the
old skinny seven-inch brake drums on both 18-inch wheels, but that was soon
changed to a full-width drum on the front. The frame was little changed from the
C15, though the fork was improved with a double hydraulic damping system. And
the metal covers protecting the sliders had now given way to sporty rubber
gaiters! Yes, yes! The shrouding had come off the shock absorbers as well. And
the rather dull oblong gas tank became an artfully contrived fiberglass
container holding 2.5 gallons of fuel, with glorious sunburst BSA emblems. High
test, please, as that compression ratio needed the best. Abbreviated chromed
fenders and sculpted side panels and oil tank finished the new look, along with
the chrome headlight shell and Smiths speedometer (missing on this one). Very
pretty it was, in blue and white.
Put a leg over the saddle, bend down and flip the top bit of
the kickstarter out 90 degrees, pull in the clutch and kick through to free the
nine clutch plates, open the petcock, tickle the carb, turn on the ignition key
in the steering head, and if the battery were up the engine should start in one
kick. Maybe two or three if it is cold, because the Concentric does not have a
choke.
Click down into first, the cush drive in the clutch smoothes
the take-up, and away you motor. In-town work is a bit sluggish as the cam does
not really function well at under 4,000 rpm. The fork has over five inches of
travel, the shocks almost three, but the springs are on the stiff side of plush.
If the road is smooth, the ride is comfortable. Now the oil is warm and you are
in the country. If you are a sporting person, you might have sprung for the
optional tachometer, but if not, the engine will certainly tell you when it is
near the 8,000 rpm line. The speed tops out at almost 80 mph in fourth gear; you
are exhilarated and consider the $750 well spent. That is until a Suzuki X-6 250
Hustler blasts by you, shifting into sixth gear at 90 mph; that bike cost less
than $700.
For 1969 BSA dropped the price to $695. And added the B25S
model, with an upswept pipe, trying to pretend to be a street-scrambler. Too
late. By the end of 1971 all the 250s were gone from the Beeza line.
Extracts from an article by Clement Salvadori, 2007.
Any corrections or more information on these motorcycles will be kindly appreciated.