Tubular steel, double front downtubes, oil bearing large
tube backbone
Front Suspension
Telescopic forks
Rear Suspension
Swingarm, Girling shocks, 3-way spring preload adjustable
Front Brakes
Single 254 mm disc, 1 piston caliper
Rear Brakes
Single 254 mm disc, 1 piston caliper
Front Tyre
3.25-19
Rear Tyre
4.00-18
Rake
28o
Trail
109 mm / 4.3 in
Wheelbase
1448 mm / 57 in
Dimensions
Length: 2220 mm / 87.5 in
Width: 840 mm / 33.0 in
Seat Height
820 mm / 32.3 in
Dry Weight
198 kg / 414 lbs
Fuel Capacity
12 Litres / 3.2 US gal / 2.6
Imp gal
Cycle Guide Review
How quickly they forget. It's been just seven or
eight short years since Triumph was on top of the motorcycling world, yet to
many of today's blonde-haired, tank-topped, sandal-clad young riders, the name
Triumph means very little—if anything at all.
Triumph's successes weren't the result of its
motorcycles being particularly better than or especially different from all the
other British bikes of the fifties and sixties, because they weren't. But
somehow that marque, with its lean, classic styling, legendary performance,
nimble handling, and total commitment to racing, became a symbol of everything
motorcycling stood for—the embodiment of the sport itself.
A Triumph looked, ran and sounded the way a
motorcycle was supposed to look, run and sound. And no matter how many other
motorcycles a rider owned, he ultimately longed for a Triumph. If he couldn't
afford one, he tried to make his bike look like a Triumph. The decision to buy a
Triumph was not based on practicality or financial considerations; it was
emotional.
But motorcycling went through some dramatic evolutionary phases in the late
sixties, and astonishing breakthroughs made by the Japanese companies put an
irreparable dent in the Triumph mystique. Mechanically, the Oriental designers
outdid the British, building motorcycles that didn't break, didn't leak, didn't
vibrate, didn't cost as much, and were impressive straight-line performers. The
rest of the motorcycle industry reeled from the impact of the
technologically-superior machines from Japan.
The Japanese domination of the American motorcycle
market crippled the Triumph organization, yet it easily might have survived were
it not for an incredible succession of management blunders. The rest is history,
and probably quite confusing to outsiders, who have heard only brief snatches of
the on-again/off-again follies of the Triumph/BSA company, or who have wondered
about the status of the beloved Bonneville.
The important point, however, is that the Bonneville is still being produced and
its future looks brighter than it has in years. The reason for the optimistic
outlook is more than just the mere fact that the factory's doors are open once
again. For one thing, the company's management has a better handle on its
financial situation, and the whole operation is geared toward the market that
is, not the one that was ten years ago. For another, a segment of the
motorcycle-riding public is having second thoughts about the multi-cylinder
miracle bikes proliferating today.
Those machines are incredibly heavy and
intimidatingly complex. Their engines are so wide that they must be mounted much
higher than normal, giving an unusually high center of gravity and the feeling
of even more weight. They therefore handle more awkwardly and reluctantly than
narrower, lighter bikes. And inflation in the Japanese economy has caused the
prices of the bikes to rise higher and higher, so they don't really hold much of
an edge in that area.
The message is clear: To some people, a narrow,
400-pound, competitively-priced 750 twin that handles and steers lightly makes
sense. If it happens to vibrate more than a multi, leak a bit of oil, or require
more frequent routine maintenance, it's still a fair trade to obtain the kind of
responsive handling and lean styling that currently isn't available anywhere
else.
But is the Bonneville actually relevant to today's
rider, or are the people out there who welcome its presence merely misty-eyed
sentimentalists who can't bear the truth? Is the trade-off between basic
function and space-age sophistication really a worthwhile one, or has the
Bonneville truly outlived its usefulness? The answers to those questions depend
heavily upon what riding a motorcycle means to you.
THE BIKE:
The motorcycle's official model designation is the
T140V, but only dealers, parts men, and others who work within the bike's
distribution network view it clinically enough to call it by that name. To
everyone else, it's a 750 Bonneville.
The Bonneville is, for all intents and purposes, the same basic motorcycle it
has been for years. Originally a 650 that utilized a separately-housed
four-speed gearbox, the engine design dates back to 1950.
The "two-piece" idea gave way to "unit construction"
in 1963, which simply means the gearbox casing was cast as part of the engine
cases instead of being an independent piece.
The original 650 engine traded its chain-driven DC
generator and self-contained magneto for a crank-driven alternator and
cam-driven battery/coil ignition when the unit construction change was made.
The displacement grew to 750 in 1970 with the
addition of five millimeters to the cylinder bore, and the five-speed gearbox
showed up in 1971. Swinging arm rear suspension came along in 1955, and an
oil-in-the-frame chassis was introduced in 1971.
Aside from those major changes, the Triumph 650/750
twins have remained essentially the same all those years.
The unmistakable Triumph engine is severely
undersquare, with a bore of 76mm and a stroke of 82mm. The 744cc four-stroke
powerplant has a tame 8.6:1 compression ratio, but the owner's manual recommends
the use of premium gas.
The overhead valves are pushrod-oper-ated by two
separate camshafts. The intake cam is located just below the rear of the
cylinder base, and the exhaust cam is just below the front. The pushrods live
inside chromed metal tubes - one in front and one in the rear - that lurk in
recesses between the cylinders. Access to the valve lash adjusting screws is
through the oval inspection covers on the individual rocker boxes atop the
engine.
The two (one intake, one exhaust) bolt-on inspection
covers replace the four screw-on caps that were fitted to (and often fell off
of) previous Triumphs.
A massive one-piece forged crankshaft spins in two main ball bearings, with
two-piece plain bearings on the big ends of the aluminum connecting rods. The
small ends of the rods use removable bronze bushings. A large cast-iron flywheel
ring bolts around the middle of the crank and supplies a considerable amount of
crankshaft inertia, which is typical of British motorcycle engines.
The left end of the crank drives a triple-row
primary chain and a large-diameter wet clutch. An adjustable primary chain
tensioner—which is just a rubber-covered metal "slipper" beneath the lower
run-prevents excessive fluttering of the chain as it stretches.
All sorts of things happen on the right side of the engine beneath the
triangular timing cover that immediately identifies the motorcycle as a Triumph.
The right end of the crankshaft is fitted with a small gear that turns a larger
idler gear, which then meshes with both the intake cam gear and the exhaust cam
gear.
A plunger-type oil pump sits just to the outside of
the intake cam gear, and an eccentric on the gear securing nut moves the
plungers up and down. The exhaust cam, meanwhile, also serves double-duty, as
the point cam and spark advance mechanism bolt directly into a taper in the
center of its drive gear. A breaker plate with two sets of Lucas contact points
fits into the outer timing cover.
The T140V's five-speed gearbox shifts on the left, a
first for any Triumph twin. A cross-shaft traversing the engine between the
gearbox and the crankcase area operates the same gear selector mechanism that
Triumphs have used for years, and the internal structure of the transmission is
the same as on right-foot-shift models.
The large black housing beneath the seat conceals
the Bonneville's dual washable gauze-type air filter elements. Two 30mm Amal
concentric carbs handle the gas mixture chores, with cable-operated chokes and
push-button ticklers provided for cold starting. The swivel-type choke lever
formerly found on the left handlebar end is now attached to the bottom of the
left carb.
The Bonneville's exhaust system is a mix of old and
new. The bend of the heavily-chromed pipes is traditional Triumph, with slightly
upswept new-style tapered silencers designed to cope with ever-increasing noise
regulations. The crossover tube between the two head pipes was introduced on
1969 Triumphs.
The Bonnie's double-downtube frame uses the backbone
and front downtubes as an engine oil reservoir, with a dipstick/ filler cap just
beneath the front edge of the seat. The steering head rests at a 28-degree
angle, and the wheelbase averages about 57 inches.
An internally-sprung fork provides just over six
inches of suspension at the front, and chromed springs on Girling shocks allow
3.25 inches of rear wheel travel.
Dunlop rubber—of British origin and in the old-standby K70 tread pattern—is
delivered at both ends; a 3.25 x 19 at the front, and 4.00 x 18 in back. Single
hydraulic disc brakes provide the Bonnie's stopping power at both wheels with
double-acting hydraulic calipers built by Lockheed.
The fuel tank is the same classic 3 5-gallon unit
that has graced the Bonneville since 1966. The deep burgundy paint, with white
scalloped trim and hand-painted
Triumph and Tribulations:
Roger Stange is a man who inspires confidence. In an
age when the Captains of Industry are more like temporarily-promoted
orderly-room clerks, Stange projects his personality with Force Nine strength.
American in the Gary Cooper tradition, with close-cropped blonde hair and eyes
that seem to pick out some point in your brain and bore holes through your
corneas to get there, Roger Stange is clearly a man who knows the ways of
command. And he needs to, because Stange is president of Norton Villiers Triumph
America, Incorporated, and could well have the toughest and least-envied job in
the motorcycle industry.
But not to hear him tell it. In his David
Brinkleyesque baritone, Stange tackles the problems and obstacles facing NVT
with seeming relish. He does not avoid the disasters of the past, but like most
aggressive men, is more interested in the future. "The most important thing," he
says, "is that there is a future for us."
Can this be true? Can the company that suffered a
near-total work stoppage for 18 months during its most critical time be alive?
Will Triumph's 600 American dealers actually have something to sell?
Until a few weeks ago, it seemed unlikely. But a
corporate reshuffle (which changed the name of the U.S. subsidiary of Norton
Villiers Triumph Limited from Norton Triumph Corporation to NVT America, Inc.)
has lifted the cloud of dread which has hung over NVT since the withdrawal of
the British government's money in September of 1975.
The reorganization has resulted in a virtual
emancipation of NVT, which now has more freedom of operations than at almost any
previous time, with no lame-duck factories or political pressure to bear. It
owns all the tooling, designs and research of the old group with none of the
constraints, which means that NVT is free to manufacture motorcycles anywhere it
is economically feasible to do so. while retaining in full force the remarkable
engineering design which has in the past and will in the future characterize
British motorcycles. In addition, with the shackles off, NVT America can now
source its parts much more freely, assuring a better supply to dealers and
customers.
This action alone has breathed new life into the
American operation, which has been slashed from over 100 employees to less than
30 as part of Stange's save-Triumph effort. Even the computer in the Duarte,
California headquarters has been laid off, saving the company, according to
Sales Vice President Tom Cates. a small fortune.
In fact, as you walk through the huge Duarte
building, noting the empty offices and silent, darkened computer, you begin to
get an inkling of how serious Stange is about making it all work. Instead of
trying to salvage his operation with a gigantic media blitz costing millions.
Stange has taken the hard, bitter way of cutting back, making do with less and
just plain working harder. In the same building where the empty corridors echo
hauntingly, there are frantically busy, cheerful people who move as though they
really care about what they are doing .. . which, clearly, they do.
It is not a typical modern office atmosphere, and it
reflects the new atypical approach to survival and success fostered by Stange.
"The days of glory, of hundred-thousand dollar dealer conventions, of
three-hundred thousand dollar carpets for this place, are gone. We can't change
that. But we can meet the demands of the significant number of people in North
America who want what a Triumph or Norton—and only a Triumph or Norton—can
give." But is there really a market? After seven years of Honda CB750s, does
anyone really want a Triumph?
Half an hour from Duarte is Robert M. Law's
Triumph-Yamaha dealership. Tucked away in downtown Anaheim, his store is more
like a piece of Kansas City or Des Moines than of modern California, with its
shiny, chrome-faced, all-glass Kawasaki and Yamaha and Suzuki and Honda
dealerships. If anyone can tell about demand, Bob Law can.
"Oh, yes, times have sure changed," he muses,
staring across the street to where his old hole-in-the-wall shop used to be.
"But 1 don't think there is any doubt about demand for Nortons or Triumphs. You
don't sell them like you do a Japanese bike, you just write up the sales ticket
when someone wants one." He points to a gleaming brown XS500C Yamaha and asks
somewhat ruefully, "How could you sell a Norton against one of those?"
Right now, with the limited product line in NVT's
book, there is no way. But NVT has definite production ideas for the motorcycles
being developed at the Shenstone. England facility: The 900cc T180V Trident, the
dohc 750cc Norton Cosworth and the air-cooled rotary, which. Strange says with a
gleam in his eye, is a "real motorcycle, not a refrigerator."
Plans, confidence, "development." In the light of recent turmoil, in the light
of the appalling disappearance of first BSA, then BSA/Triumph and finally
Norton-Triumph, is any of it credible?
The answer to that is a little clearer when you
understand something about the history of the companies involved.
Take, for example. Triumph. Most Americans have an image of Triumph as a solid,
tradition-bound company rooted firmly in the English subsoil of Queen Victoria,
but in fact. Triumph has been through more changes in its 74-year history of
motorcycle production than many younger companies. Originally founded by a
German. Siegfried Bettmann, as an import/export firm in London, Triumph was
successively a bicycle exporter, then bicycle manufacturer, motorcycle maker,
car manufacturer, and finally motorcycle manufacturer once again. The corporate
juggling that went on before the BSA merger or the highly-publicized work
stoppage in Meriden in 1973 was in many ways just as important, though less
visible.
That stoppage itself (which was a lock-out of NVT by
the workers at the Bonneville- and Trident-producing Meriden plant) is the
beginning of most people's image of the Triumph calamity, and as such deserves a
closer look. It came about because, as part of a British government plan which
would combine BSA, Triumph and Norton output, only two of the three
main factories producing BSAs, Triumphs and Nortons (at Small Heath, Meriden.
and Wolverhampton respectively) could remain in operation . . . and Meriden was
the loser. Small Heath was to build Tridents and Bonnevilles, while
Wolverhampton continued Nortons. But the workers at Meriden objected, and the
result was the 18-month work-in that crippled the whole NVT timetable. According
to company reports, it was impossible to get the vital Trident tooling out of
the Meriden factory, and the result was—predictably—chaos.
Even that chaos might have been untangled sooner had
not the issue become political, which both sides now agree was the case.
Shifting government policies finally resulted in the infamous withdrawal in
September of 1975 of government assistance (originally made necessary by the
aborted NVT new-product and parts production timetable) and resultant shortfall
of profits. To many, it looked like Norton, Triumph and British motorcycles were
dead forever.
But not to Dennis Poore. Roger Stange. and the other
directors of NVT, who worked steadily to achieve the resurrection of the
company, nor to the workers at Meriden who bought their factory (with government
money, ironically), formed a worker's cooperative and began contract production
of Bonnevilles and Tigers for NVT. Victory has hardly been snatched from the
jaws of defeat for NVT, but a viable group of companies, pared to the bare
essentials of dedicated professionals, with working capital, tooling and freedom
to work, has been extracted from the debacle.
Reflectively, Roger Stange gazes at the Norton
Triumph logo on his wall. "We hit absolute bottom a few months ago," he says,
and then his eyes light up as he continues, "but that means we have nowhere to
go but up!"
Those are the words of a fighting general who knows
the whole score, and there is no better combination for gold pinstriping. is
flawlessly applied. The tank alone accounts for about half of the timeless charm
that has made the Bonneville a "classic."
Thickly-chromed steel fenders attractively shroud
both wheels, and a large chromed headlight housing adds to the brightwork. The
dual seat is stylish and looks quite thick, but is hollowed out considerably to
fit down over the frame side rails.
The rubber-mounted handlebars have quite a high
rise, which some riders dislike. However, most Triumph dealers will testify that
when the Bonnevilles were delivered with lower, wider bars, many buyers
requested high risers. So the factory made them standard equipment several years
ago.
The most inescapable feature of this motorcycle is
still its enduring, classic lines. Lithe, lean, and unencumbered, the styling
has been—and remains—a standard of excellence for all others to study and
imitate.
ENGINE AND GEARBOX:
The new T140V starts the way Bonnevilles have always
started—with a healthy romp on the right-side kickstart lever. We tickled the
carbs for cold starts and the Bonneville always started with one kick. Unless
the temperature drops to around 40 degrees or less, the choke is not needed.
The T140V is willing to pull away as soon as it
comes to life. However, a minute or two of warm-up is recommended, and the
machine won't idle happily until it is warmed up. Once warm, the Bonneville can
be left idling for minutes at a time without stalling.
Compared to other 750s, the peak horsepower and torque figures of the Triumph
twin aren't very impressive. Instead, the engine has a wide, tractable power
spread. It will accelerate almost as strongly from 1500 rpm as it will from 5000
rpm, and you can cruise smoothly anywhere from 25 to 105 mph in fifth. At 55
mph, the engine is turning just below 3500 rpm in fifth gear, and makes its
maximum horsepower at 6000 rpm.
If the throttle is snapped all the way open below
2000 rpm, the engine will sputter a moment before it catches its breath and
begins accelerating. Below 1500 rpm, whacking the throttle wide open will kill
the engine until you close the throttle slightly.
This problem is negated somewhat by very stiff
throttle return springs and a throttle opening span of well over a quarter turn.
Together they make it difficult to snap the throttle wide open from low throttle
openings. None of the above presents much of a problem, however, because the
engine responds so briskly and cleanly to small throttle openings.
The biggest improvement in the new Bonneville is its
five-speed gearbox. The old Triumph four-speed was a crunchbox in the most
literal sense of the word. If you smoked away from a stop and tried to hang a
quick power shift into second above 6000 rpm, you got a loud crunch, a false
neutral, and floating valves. High-rpm downshifts sometimes produced the same
results and could suddenly put you in a neutral when you were diving into a
corner.
The left-side-shifting five-speed is among the
smoothest, most positive-shifting gearboxes we've ever used. A fairly high
pressure is required to shift, but the throw is short and each gear engages
quietly. Since there is no indicator lamp, finding neutral sometimes takes
several pokes at the lever and a very cautious release of the clutch.
The gearbox ratios are staged with perfect
progression. First gear is tall enough to be useful for more than just starting
out, but there is an unusual amount of flywheel effect and enough low-speed
power to make it easy to get under way with a minimum of clutch slippage. Fifth
gear is also slightly tall, making it suitable for cruising, but third or fourth
is required for quick high-speed passes, especially on uphill grades.
The clutch engages progessively and doesn't grab,
drag or slip. A moderately stiff pull is required to disengage it.
Performance was once the keynote of the Bonnie's personality, but that has
changed. Although the Bonneville accelerates as hard as it always did—or even a
little harder—it can't match the 750 multis for raw horsepower. However, with
considerably less weight to lug around, it laid down a best standing-start
quarter-mile run of 14.20 seconds at 92.4 mph. That's a respectable time, but
not in the superbike category anymore.
However, the TI40V has become somewhat of a big-bore
economy champion. Ours averaged 44.8 miles per gallon during the test, with a
best figure of about 50 mpg during a long cruise at a steady 55 mph. The reasons
for its good gas mileage are its low overall weight, good mid-range torque, and
fairly tall gearing.
HANDLING:
At 414 pounds (with the gas tank empty), the
Bonneville weighs about 100 pounds less than most other 750s (the 430-pound BMW
being a notable exception). And the T140V feels lighter than it really is, even
standing still. When you're putting it on the centerstand, for example, it feels
like a tall 125.
The light weight of the machine is an important
factor contributing to the Bonneville's wonderfully light and quick—yet
steady—handling. The machine has a low center of gravity, and the front end
geometry (28 degrees of rake and 4.3 inches of trail) is designed for easy
steering. A rider used to a bigger, heavier, slower-steering multi may be
surprised on his first ride on the Triumph twin. A little bit of pressure on the
handlebars or a small amount of body lean produces a lot of change in
direction—right now.
The same sort of force exerted on a big
four-cylinder 750 results in a much smaller change of course. The Triumph's
quickness makes it possible to flick the bike from peg to peg in an ess-bend
with no more than a mild pressure on the handlebars. It sometimes feels like the
Bonneville turns if you just think about turning.
The steering quickness is combined with enough
stability to make the bike steady and dead accurate in turns of any speed. Rush
up to a corner, point the front wheel where you want to go, and you'll get there
without having to adjust the steering two or three times in the process. Given a
line, the Bonneville sticks to it like it was on rails. However, if you do want
to change your line in a corner—as you might in a blind, decreasing radius
turn—the T140V does it willingly.
Despite its light steering response, the Bonneville
is stable in the rough. For example, one tester ran over a fist-sized rock while
cornering hard at 50 mph, and much to his surprise, the bike never even
twitched. Bumps and sidewinds don't divert the machine either, and though it
wiggles somewhat in rain grooves, the wiggling never causes discomfort or a
change of direction.
The damping of both front and rear suspensions is
much better than with most original-equipment suspension components, but the
springing is stiffer than average. This stiffness is a slight advantage in
smoothly-paved corners, and a distinct disadvantage in bumpy corners, where the
bike gets bounced around more than other machines.
The bike's lightness and low center of gravity,
however, keep the bouncing from affecting control very much. So even in very
cobby corners, the Bonneville steers more accurately and steadily than most
machines.
The Bonneville's cornering Ground Clearance is only
slightly greater than average, but the confidence imparted by the machine during
cornering is much greater than average. As a result, we could easily drag the
centerstand in left-handers and the muffler clamp in right-handers. One of the
most surprising things we encountered was what happened when we grounded
something hard enough to lift the rear wheel off the road: Nothing. The rear of
the bike moved over an inch or two and the tire regained traction, all without a
twitch or a wiggle.
The Dunlop K70 tires are adequate within the limits
imposed by the machine's cornering clearance. Although the K70 tread pattern
isn't as good as the K81, it works well on wet pavement. The original equipment
tires on the Triumph are British Dunlops, which seem to have a better rubber
compound than Dunlops made elsewhere and partially explains why the K70s work as
well as they do.
Most Bonnevilles will see a lot of city driving, and
the machine's light, easy steering is a real asset in town. The quick handling
makes the bike outstanding in the low- and medium-speed types of cornering done
in the city. And the lightness and nimble handling at ultra-slow speeds make the
T140V easy to manage in stalled and crowded traffic.
COMFORT AND RIDE:
This is where the Bonneville comes up shortest.
There is no way the machine can be considered a comfortable long-distance
tourer.
Vibration, although significant, wasn't as bad as we had anticipated. The
T140V's throbbing sort of vibes were only annoying above 3000 rpm. Around town
we rode at fairly low rpm most of the time (because there is so much usable
power down there), so the vibration didn't bother us too much. However, while
wringing the bike out on our favorite back roads, the vibration sometimes
intruded into our enjoyment. And at highway speeds—over 50 mph in fifth—the
vibration constituted a significant source of discomfort. It reached us
primarily through the seat and non-folding footpegs.
Other major annoyances in touring-type riding were
the seat—which began to produce sore butts after 45 minutes of riding, even in
town—and the kickstart pedal, which poked into the rider's right calf all the
time. The lever isn't splined onto the shaft; it's located with a tapered
key, so you can't rotate it to another position.
The seating position itself was quite comfortable
for all of us, although some testers felt the handlebar shape was slightly
annoying during low speed maneuvering. Most of us agreed that we prefer the
handlebars that came on Bonnevilles in the late sixties. However, one thing that
hasn't changed is the narrowness of the bike, and that's something just not
available on other 750s. The narrow Triumph tank allowed us to sit comfortably
without spreading our knees any more than if we were sitting in an armchair, and
the forward location of the footrests didn't require us to bend our knees
sharply. Everyone who rode the bike complained about the heavy throttle return
pressure which quickly tired the rider's right hand and forearm.
The problem is overly-stiff throttle slide return
springs, and is aggravated by a sticky throttle cable which adds resistance to
throttle movement.
The Bonneville's stiff suspension gives a harsh ride over both large and small
bumps. The ride was especially unpleasant over road surfaces made of concrete
slabs laid end to end with each slab at a slightly different height.
Sharp bumps were the worst; the suspension could
cope with gradual road irregularities like long dips, but for big, sharp bumps,
the most comfortable approach was to stand on the pegs and let our legs absorb
the jolt.
Over the years there have been a lot of Triumph
twins fitted with loud accessory exhaust systems, and recent sound level
restrictions probably reflect, in part, the irritation those loud pipes have
caused non-motorcyclists. The new mufflers still allow the Bonneville to tell
everyone it's a Triumph, but that growl has been subdued to 92.6decibels.
BRAKING:
Disc brakes front and rear have given the Bonneville
stronger, more-fade-resistant, more-predictable braking than was ever available
with older drum-braked Triumphs. The new front brake requires a strong squeeze,
but works pro-gressively, and—if enough pressure is applied to the lever—will lock the front
wheel. The front brake lever is a long way from the grip, and operates over a
fairly short span, so our small-handed staffer had trouble using it comfortably
because there is no adjustment.
The rear brake also requires strong pressure to lock
and operates progressively and predictably. Neither brake faded, even after many
hard applications in rapid succession.
RELIABILITY DURING TEST:
Yes (before you ask), the Bonneville did leak oil.
Each time the bike was parked, a few drops of 50-weight appeared under the bike.
This made it a little harder to keep the motorcycle (and the driveway) clean,
but we never had to add oil. The carbs also leaked a little, particularly if the
gas was left on when the machine was parked.
On one particularly hot day, the glue holding the
right grip to the handlebar throttle assembly began to melt. Consequently, the
grip loosened slightly and slipped down towards the end of the handlebar. A
better glue would solve the problem.
The bulb intended to illuminate the tachometer at night kept slipping out of the
tachometer back, apparently because of a poor fit between the bulb holder and
the hole in the tach back.
However, this ceased to be a problem when the tach
stopped working altogether. A plug in the tachometer gearbox (on the left end of
the exhaust camshaft) had fallen out. allowing the gear that drives the tach
cable to slip out of place. Replacement parts cost a dollar and took a few
minutes to install.
CONCLUSION:
The Triumph Bonneville 750 is definitely not
everyman's motorcycle. The breed of rider cultivated within the last decade has
come to demand mind-boggling power, electric-motor smoothness, a plush ride,
100-percent reliability, and a sizable dose of the technical wizardry one would
expect in the space age. The Triumph cannot fulfill those expectations, and the
vast majority of today's riders will shun it for that very reason.
What the Bonneville has to offer is light weight,
dead-accurate steering, telepathic handling, low-rpm torque, and stone-ax
simplicity. It has styling strong enough to get a certain kind of rider
interested, and a personality vivid enough to keep him that way. Which means
that the things that made a Bonneville appealing in the first place are still
going for it: It does what a motorcycle is supposed to do, and it looks the way
a motorcycle is supposed to look.
The type of person drawn to a Bonneville today is as
staunch in his interpretation of motorcycling as the Bonneville itself is in its
design. His relationship with a motorcycle is not one of possession, but one of
involvement and affection. He looks upon engine vibration not as an annoyance,
but as the throbbing pulse of the motorcycle's heartbeat. Wiping a bit of oil
off the cases is not a hassle, but a chance to touch his motorcycle's very soul.
Frequent routine maintenance and repairs aren't an
inconvenience, but an opportunity to strengthen the emotional bond between man
and machine—a bond that seldom exists if the partnership is with one of the
computer-perfect, appliancelike motorcycles of the present.
The Bonneville owner is a person with an explicit
point of view about motorcycling, and the Bonneville is a motorcycle that
exemplifies that point of view. Those who don't share that viewpoint - those who
have never thought of a multi-cylindered, water-cooled, vibration-free,
dead-reliable, solid-state motorcycle as a lifeless refrigerator - will never
understand.