Were the British motorcycle manufacturers too
conservative or did the Japanese catch them napping? Whatever it was, the
arrival of the Honda 750 in 1969 was followed bay a flood of other
multicylinder bikes that dealt a devastating blow to the British industry.
Desperate Measures In one last desperate effort, the leading British makers attempted to
reestablish themselves, particularly in what had been their leading export
market, the United States. One of the most spectacular ventures in this
field bay the Triumph-BSA group was the 1972 Hurricane. Starting with the
three-cylinder Triumph launched in 1968, the well-known American designer
Craig Vetter proved remarkably successful in combining contemporary American
styling with muscular British machinery.
Triple Exhaust System The naked engine kept no secrets, with three separate exhaust systems on the
right the machine giving the Hurricane a fabulous sporting appearance. It's
said that its makers banned photos of the left side of the Hurricane, devoid
of exhaust pipes, from being published. The tiny (2.4gallons)
teardrop-shaped tank and the lengthened front forks placed the Hurricane
firmly among the ranks of the then-fashionable choppers. Produced in limited
numbers, the Triumph Hurricane is today highly collectible.
Road Test
What we have here, friends, is the brand-new,
limited-production Triumph X-75 Hurricane. You all remember the Hurricane, don't
you? You don't? Well then, how about the ever-popular BSA Vetter Rocket? Surely
you ... Oh? Okay, would you believe a basic BSA Rocket Three with a lot of fancy
trimmings?
But enough frivolity. Let us start at the
beginning . . . or at least back in 1968.
Those were the days shortly after BSA and Triumph
had joined corporate forces, and both the Triumph Trident and the BSA Rocket
were introduced to the American public. Both were 750cc Triples and both were
pretty good machines. They had this one basic problem, though, the kind of
problem guaranteed to cause a bit of concern back in the executive offices in
England. They didn't sell.
Consensus: the styling was not right for
appealing to the U.S. market. Solution: find an American designer and instruct
him to come up with something more in keeping with his countrymen's tastes.
Enter Craig Vetter, professional designer and
very American (a Midwesterner, don't you know). He was given a BSA Three and
told to go to town.
Vetter, it turned out, had some pretty strong
ideas about how a motorcycle ought to look: a motorcycle should be simple and
clean, and the chassis and engine parts — the very essence of the machine —
ought to be clearly visible. But he was also very taken up with the chopper
influence in bike styling, with the customized and very personalized kind of
appeal generally associated with the big Harley-Davidsons.
As he saw it, choppers stressed the "animal"
nature of the motorcycle, the feeling of raw power. Further, he argued, they
were part of a new feeling sweeping the country, a vanguard movement which was
challenging the system and elevating the concept of personal expression. In his
view, the motorcycle was as much a manifestation of personality as it was a
means of transportation. "You can buy your identity if you buy the right
motorcycle," he told one reporter in a fit of exuberance.
By 1970, Vetter came up with a preview model,
still identified as a BSA. 750, which was received with some appreciation by the
American press. In retrospect, everyone seemed more taken with the fact that the
bike was a radical departure from existing standards—and from the English,
yet—than with the basic question of whether or not the bike might function
desirably.
At that point, the Vetter model virtually
disappeared from the public consciousness. Then, in early 1972, word came that
it would be marketed as a limited-production model under the name BSA Vetter
Rocket. This was a real coup for the designer, of course, since public credit is
rare if not unprecedented. By summer there was a change, reflecting the
deteriorated economic fortunes of the two manufacturers. Now, officials
reported, the new bike would be marketed under the Triumph name as part of a
company-wide belt-tightening measure. That belt became tighter still this past
spring when a strike drove BSA out of business entirely. By then, though, the
Hurricane was already out and on the market.
Given the length of time between Vetter's
prototype and actual production and all the financial machinations, you might
logically expect the Hurricane to have been tampered with severely, to have had
the concepts and influences of several people built into the basic design. This
committee-type approach is almost always a disaster.("A camel is a horse
designed by a committee," goes the old saying.) It didn't happen here, however;
the Hurricane is pure Vetter, and he's the man to blame if you consider it a
disaster.
And that is probably the most significant aspect
of the Hurricane: it is a controversial piece of equipment. It can be seen as an
exciting breakthrough for the breed or as a laughable expression of bad taste.
You pays your money–almost $2300, as a matter of fact–and you takes your choice.
The Hurricane is striking no doubt about that. It
comes in a flashy orange color with sweeping yellow trim lines and a trio of
wild and impressive exhaust pipes which curve down along the right side in shiny
splendor. The overall appearance might best be described as semi-chopper, with
long front fork stanchions, extended cylinderhead fins and a custom front
fender. Underneath it all, though, hides your basic BSA Triple (or Trident, if
you prefer, since the engines are fundamentally the same).
What you've got, then, is a three-cylinder, OHV
four-stroke motorcycle. Actual displacement is 740cc and top speed is somewhere
over 110 mph. Like the Trident, the X-75 has a five-speed transmission, with the
dry, single-plate automotive-type clutch unique to BSA-Triumph. It has a
2.6-gallon gas tank and weighs just under 470 pounds with the tank filled. There
is a 57-inch wheelbase with a Ground Clearance of about seven inches.
Both tires have alloy rims to cut down on weight.
Up front is a 3.25 x 19; in the rear is the K-81 Dunlop (4.25 x 18) that was
developed for the Trident and Rocket. Brakes front and rear are the
internal-expanding drum type rather than the discs you might expect (or want),
but they get the fob done.
But the Hurricane is not trying to make it on all
these technical and mechanical points. The thing the hike offers to the consumer
is style: a look, a feel, an impression. And that's too bad, because it appears
that the stylistic touches Vetter has introduced tend to wipe out, or at least
reduce, some of the efficiency of the Rocket or Trident which are the
Hurricane's ancestors. In simple language, the rider who wants a good, reliable
piece of equipment rather than a traveling billboard would do well to steer
clear of the X-75.
Let's take the exhaust system as our first
example. Those three swooping stacked pipes create a hell-bent-for-leather feel
of excitement for those who are drawn to such things, and they sound just fine.
There's even been an improvement over the companies' two earlier triples. On the
Trident and the Rocket, the three pipes were run through only two mufflers,
which was quiet enough but generated far too much heat. On the Hurricane, there
are three separate upswept mufflers.
Ah, but there is a price to pay. Try and take the
Hurricane around a right turn with any kind of speed at all. Go ahead, try it.
Those lovely pipes restrict the lean angle severely, and your choice is either
slow down and stay straight up or hit the pavement.
Now consider the front forks. To give the X-75
that pseudo-chopper look, the stanchions are an inch longer than on the average
Triple, and the new, specially designed alloy triple clamps are stepped down a
half-inch. The end result is a front end about an inch higher than it would be
otherwise.
There's more. That lovely fiberglass unit which
covers the gas tank and then swoops under the seat is an outstanding piece of
work. It is covered totally with a strong coat of epoxy to prevent the paint
from scratching, and aside from the unsightly rib down the center where the
one-piece unit was joined together, is as nice as anything you're going to come
across.
But to achieve this bit of beauty it was
necessary to restrict the steel fuel tank underneath to a mere 2.6 gallons,
which is good for only about 75 miles at moderate speed between fill-ups.
Further, to get down at the oil tank beneath the seat, you have to unscrew the
seat from where it's bolted onto the upper mounting of the rear shocks.
There are other little delights waiting for the
unsuspecting buyer—it is worth your life to try and get the Hurricane up on its
center stand, for example—but there's no need to belabor the point. It is
sufficient to realize that this is not a motorcycle designed to fulfill what
would appear to be the basic functions of a motorcycle. If your gas tank is
small enough to limit you to a 75—mile maximum, your bike surely isn't designed
for touring. If the placement of your exhaust pipes created problems on leaning
right hand turns, your bike definitely isn't meant for whipping along on curvy
country roads. The only thing that's left is sort of tootling around town and
having people stare at you, which doesn't sound like much fun after the first
time, if at all.
And that brings us down to the basic issue. The
Hurricane is supposed to be a mass-produced "custom" bike. All right, not really
mass produced, in that there were only 1,200 in the first run, but the concept
is there. Is it possible to manufacture a run of "personalized" bikes, to create
a saleable customized motorcycle which lacks the very essence of the custom
bike, originality? Past history indicates that any such attempt is doomed to
failure.
If you're the kind of rider who is into that sort
of thing, you'd rather do it yourself. The bike may look absolutely awful to the
rest of the world once you're through, but that's not the point (or maybe it
is). It's your bike, done your way, and the public be damned.
It would appear doubtful, then, that the X-75 can
make a real breakthrough in the market for custom bikes. And we've tried to
point out here that stylistic demands have cut sharply into the bike's appeal
for the serious rider. The hurricane is almost always an ill wind, and in this
case it doesn't appear to have done anyone any good.