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Fast Eddie said:
I told you it was obvious!!
Commando Versus Modern
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I told you it was obvious!!
Fast Eddie
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phil yates said:
Touché !!
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Mark said:
It's hard to disagree with that statement except for the dinosaur part. More like a triple crown winner or the Daytona 500 winner where they retire the car right after the race.
Ya know, we pick the shit out of these machines with relentless scrutiny. Yet they sit in our garages endearingly and we are enamored. I cruized at 5000rpm at 80 mph for 30 straight miles last night. I get strange thoughts like, "God, take me now!", then guilty for being selfish to my wife and family. I then took special care and a slower road home. There was no less peace.
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Pete, "god take me kow" what a way to go! Failing that stinking of pee in a care home?
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Yeah Man, do ya think Ya'll live forever. What floats to top of [good] memories but fine times on our cycles, especially our ole Clunkers? But underlying unspoken theme is how weak willed hedonistic folks we are wasting resources on an antique that's always the center of attention anywhere it goes but a Norton rally. On the other hand some my worse memories were on a cycle behaving perfectly with plenty reserves. For some strange reason even though I know my modern can out handling and brake my regular Combat yet i just don't feel as secure/comfy on the modern. I also enjoy the real sense that my Combat is more efficient than most fast moderns. Like 10+ more mpg percentage better on long hauls, similar to our kissing cousins Harley's. I just don't feel I'm straining much to run along at free way speeds and throttle is less touchy to modulate speed. Feels like a kid's lawn mower mini bike that's evolved better than ever expected.
THE EVOLUTION OF THE MOTORCYCLE
by Geoff Seddon
("The Evolution of the Motorcycle" is reproduced from Ozbike Thunder Down Under, an Australian lifestyle magazine.)
On the first day, God created the Heavens, the Earth, and the Wisemans Ferry Road. But He wasn't too happy, His Kingswood (automobile) would sway on the corners, crawl up the hills, and use heaps of juice.
On the second day, God took a new tack, and created the step through. He enjoyed the wind in His hair (He hadn't created helmets then), it was fun, and used bugger-all petrol, but it still crawled up the hills.
On the third day, God created the Honda Four, and it flew up the hills. With four into ones, it sounded better, it never broke down, but the corners remained a problem. Yet He had tasted power, and craved for more.
Thus, on the fourth day, He added two more cylinders to His Honda, and created adrenaline. His insurance premiums doubled, and it cost a fortune to get the tappets done. He also created fear (His hair turned white), and the cliché "enough is enough".
On the fifth day, God blew a couple of joints, had rap with Willie G., and created the Harley Davidson. He would cruise up and down the hills in top gear, and pick up heaps of babes. He would get off on the note. But the Hog was too heavy, broke down a lot and handled like the Kingswood.
Then, on the sixth day, He made the Bonneville. He would still pick up babes outside Wisemans Pub, and it sounded good. His bike was light, and for the first time, the corners were fun. It handled! God was stoked. But the vibration gave Him a pain in the arse, His kidneys were history, it was a touch gutless and He ran out of juice every 100 miles. He wasn't happy, but shit, He was
So finally, on the seventh day, God produced a motorcycle with the speed of a Honda, the torque of a Harley and the handling of a Triumph. He could afford the petrol, tune it Himself, pick up chicks and still blow off Ducatis through the corners. He called His bike Norton [Commando], and He was happy.
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While I love my Norton as well as all my other bikes, that Ducati 900 just can't be touched. that is one quick revving haul ass bike for a 900cc 2v air cooled twin. Will truly embarrass my new Triumph, hell even the Norton will give the new Trumpet a run for it's money.
Sorry but I just have to disagree that the Norton is the ends all gods gift to 2 wheeled travel. Ride a Duc.
Sorry but I just have to disagree that the Norton is the ends all gods gift to 2 wheeled travel. Ride a Duc.
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Good comments
My old 900 MHR was a gutsy beast..., bought it for a song because a small pebble had got sucked in the carb..it sat on the jet..causing a mis-fire..the guy wanted rid...have you seen the price of them...12k mine was £700 ...never liked the one piece fairing...pain to service it..then they bought out the two piece. :twisted:
My old 900 MHR was a gutsy beast..., bought it for a song because a small pebble had got sucked in the carb..it sat on the jet..causing a mis-fire..the guy wanted rid...have you seen the price of them...12k mine was £700 ...never liked the one piece fairing...pain to service it..then they bought out the two piece. :twisted:
lrutt said:
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Well lrutt, i know my first close up encounter with Ducati was a brillant yellow '78 arriving and parking in our village square so I walked up to take in its ungainly Italian lanky good looks, when a min or so later his ride buddy shows up on a new 600 [mid 2000's] GSRX with its RH side all scrapped up and first thing out his mouth to his 'friend' was how can that old think go around turns so Fast!!. The next close encounter was on Peel in her prime but on 18 lb rear/15 lb air to cross mud flats and not crash before terra firma, when a squad on Monster 900's bikes turned in behind me 1/4 mile on river valley level but twisty way to our square. I'd seen em come through village prior but always in a rush so didn't stop. I picked up pace to draw their hot shot out of the bunch and sure enough one took the bait with zooming enlarging view I waited till just over a crest out of sight to nail Peel to 120's so had increased distance as they crested the rise to see me again. I kept the slightly increasing lead going till a mile long straight I fell in behind a slow car and waited for them to see what I was on. They pulled up sharply besides me, but in a flash of shock on how long in tooth cast iron barrel antique I was on, they freaked out and wheelied away still in oppostie lane, Peel had such power response I miss judged which gear I was in so only snicked to 3rd to accelerate from low 50's and got an instant tickle sound as whipped around car to catch back up in 1/4 mile before the next hard turn and then hung a few bike lengths back watching their knee dragging turns while I was holding back trying to control wierdness on such soft air tires, we arrived in village and parked, they flipped off helmet to reveal a smallish gal that more frowned at what was so annoying to shake. I waked into clinic to pee then back out to not be able to see Peel with a dozen standing and squating agruing over where the hidden booster was as I'd installed a vac/boost gauge. These were mainly dentists and other professionals that could afford such bikes so not exactly the dumpest folks in the world to confuse on power plants, wisely picking some the best corner cripples out there. I aired up and lead this hot shot out of town for half dozen miles til an open and got out hp'd when Peel snicked 3rd about 90 mph and hung pretty close but hindered by increasing noises till got stuck in 4th and pulled over to alert the following pack I was fine and thanks for the fun. Alas Ya just don't know what ya missing out on handling wise with a strange tri-link combo. I mainly limited Peels speed in commutes with rear tire just off the edge paint line as so low my head was too dang close to the double yellow to lay over further faster as she so easily could and did now and then when I could see nothing comming in wrong lane. There's few things so satisfying as a biplane era bicycle teasing with jet age craft. I like Ducati engine straining sounds as good as Nortons though not their valve train buzz annoyance.
One my ride buddies has a hobby of photo'ing gals on his rat bike with a sign models wanted here. I'm gonna have to see how that works out with my plain Jane Trixie vs everything else someday. I have had a pu full of students stop me on The Gravel roads to see what I was on then beg to get a photo of them in short shorts on Trixie, so I gave in and kept quiet at home.
One my ride buddies has a hobby of photo'ing gals on his rat bike with a sign models wanted here. I'm gonna have to see how that works out with my plain Jane Trixie vs everything else someday. I have had a pu full of students stop me on The Gravel roads to see what I was on then beg to get a photo of them in short shorts on Trixie, so I gave in and kept quiet at home.
Nater_Potater
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Backing up a couple of pages:
This jackass notwithstanding, I'll still offer assistance to stalled bikers, and wave to other riders as I pass them out on the highway.
Last summer, I spied a bike off the side of the road. I stopped, partially because it was a Harley (my Norton's running; what's your problem?) but mainly because I don't like the thought of another being stranded. He was just making a call on his cell phone, and appeared to be genuinely annoyed that I'd invaded his personal space.Al-otment said:
This jackass notwithstanding, I'll still offer assistance to stalled bikers, and wave to other riders as I pass them out on the highway.
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Before any more bashing on Americans with their HD's, please take a look at this flyer, paying special attention to the "Imported" note in the heading. I talked to the grizzled owner the other day about what that entailed, and his response was that his intent was to keep out all of the Harley choppers that seem to show up for so many of the shows around here. My kind of guy! You can bet the Norton will be there, and I can just about guarantee she'll be the only Norton.
I realize the assumption is that all Americans are southern-drawl, gun-toting hicks (the Bond films helped that idea along) that all run around on Harleys, but that's a very narrow field of view. 'Not that some of it isn't earned...
btw, FrankDamp up in Anacortez and I are an overnight's ride away from each other, with some of the most beautiful roads between us over the Cascade Mountains. If any of you find your way to the Pacific Northwest, come visit us.
I realize the assumption is that all Americans are southern-drawl, gun-toting hicks (the Bond films helped that idea along) that all run around on Harleys, but that's a very narrow field of view. 'Not that some of it isn't earned...
btw, FrankDamp up in Anacortez and I are an overnight's ride away from each other, with some of the most beautiful roads between us over the Cascade Mountains. If any of you find your way to the Pacific Northwest, come visit us.
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I have broke down plenty times and normally loads of guys stop and offer help,tools get fuel . Motorists ,bikers and people come out their houses to see if I am ok and when you get chatting you find out it is a small world. But hey it's Ayrshire the home of "Honest men and Bonnie lassies"
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pete.v said:
And that's the special magic of the Norton Commando, regardless of model. It makes you feel alive. I was going to say riding one is the most fun you'll ever have with your clothes on, but hobot tells us it is a lot of fun in moccasins and undies too. I didn't ask him what he wears in bed, not going to either. I fart around in my office till mid morning when it is time to go to the post office to fetch the mail I never open anyway, not until there are serious looking red "Final Notice" stickers stamped on the envelope. It is a short ride but it is my morning magic. It blows the crap out of my head (the rest of it I put in here) and I could be gone for well over an hour as I will keep thinking of somewhere else to ride before going home, the coffee shop, the flower shop, over to Bowral to see my mate in his office. I just can't stop riding the thing. And mixed into all of that are conversations with good folk who will wait by your machine until you come out, just to ask you about it. Their brother had a Commando, what a magic machine it was. My dad had a Norton back in the 40's, that sort of thing. I can yarn for hours (and do) with these guys, just seeing the Commando brings back special memories for them, and here you are actually riding one. I've had quite a few enquiries like "are they still making the Commando, it looks brand new?"
It is as though your Commando belongs to not only you, but all those for whom it represents another place and time. They usually won't leave until you ride off, just to hear that magic exhaust note. You are not in a rally, you are not a parade, you're just riding around doing your thing on your daily transport and it blows guys away dreaming and wishing they could be doing the same thing. I'm certainly not a poser, I wouldn't be dressed in sand shoes, gym shorts and leather jacket if I was (I must look like an idiot in fact - but don't care) but I get real pleasure in riding my Commando and also in what the sight of it does for others.
I just don't see this happening with too many modern bikes (some individual ones, yes) and I just don't see what a modern bike can do that my Commando can't do, except 3000mph on a race track, big friggin deal!!
And in my case, they can't even brag they have an electric start.
I've got the bastards covered!!
Phil
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hobot said:
Great story. A Norton inspires creativity. I like the last paragraph in particular. I'd try that trick but I think riding my Commando afterwards with two broken legs and a busted nose would be bloody uncomfortable.
Phil
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hobot said:
That is a classic hobot. I'm going to print that off and stick it up on the pub notice board. Angie (one of the owners) will love it. She's been eyeing off my Commando ever since I turned up on it months ago. So too her boyfriend, but he can't ride to save himself. I well know the Wiseman's Ferry road. My original combat was very well acquainted with it. Nowadays, too much bloody traffic and speed cameras to have anymore fun. Just like all of Sydney. I pulled the pin nearly 15 years ago.
Phil
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Nater_Potater said:
It is easy to bash Americans because there are so many of them. And they like (not) being bashed. So you bash them some more. We get sick of doing it to each other because no one takes it seriously, then it's no fun anymore.
But Americans have done and created a lot of good things in this world (the Norton not one of them - but lots of other things) and they can be very practical in their approach to matters. Very practical.
An old flying mate of mine retold a story of the days when they were converting from piston engined props to the Boeing 707. During the ground school this Australian pilot in particular was being a total pain in the ass. He constantly held the class up asking every stupid engineering question he could think of.
When they got to the aircraft the Boeing Instructor was explaining the use of the speed brake. This idiot interrupts to ask how does it work?
The instructor looked puzzled and said well, when you pull the lever back, the aircraft slows up, then you push it back in.
The guy then asks, but HOW does it work?
The instructor looked really puzzled, then said, Oh it works real fine.
And that's a true story.
I'm not casting aspersions on my fellow countrymen, I've got enough people in here hating me already. But there is something special about the American approach to matters. Like, cut the crap and let's get down to it.
Phil
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john robert bould said:
My ex father in law was world renowned for warbird restorations and at age 75 was still doing things in aeroplanes no one else would do. Tragically it brought about his final demise but he went doing what he loved. He certainly didn't die peeing his pants in a care home, something he never could have lived with. He refused an eye operation until landing at night in the Spitfire, flames spurting from the exhaust stacks on throttle back blinding him, and not being able to see anyway, finally got the better of him. He was fearless, until I got him on the back of the combat one day. He loved the bike but was bloody glad to get off alive.
I've gotten around the stinking of pee problem, plastic nappies at night work fine for me. Motorcycling is a passion and doing it on a Commando, even more so for me. I was once asked many years ago by some smart ass if I was suffering a mid life crisis? I said if I am, it started at age eleven and just hasn't let up one bit.
The first flying lesson I ever had, I rode the two hour ride to the airfield on my combat. That first flight cost me a week's wages and actually scared the shit out of me, I thought it was bloody dangerous. The instructor looked at my combat and said, you rode that thing all the way out here? That's bloody dangerous!!
It was the start of a long life in which I have continued to do both. But still enjoy riding my Commando more than anything else. And no piece of Japo Crapo is ever going to change my mind. I am impervious to trends and fads!
Phil
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