Your Norton Defining Moment (2012)

I enjoyed Horton's story of watching a guy roaring up and down on a yellow Norton and remembering the sound so vividly. That experience made him later acquire and to this day enjoy his Norton's. I had a similar experience with a 65 Triumph Bonneville a friend let me ride despite the fact I had never been on a motorcycle before. The sound was so enticing that I had to have one. This, despite the fact it took me 30 or so years to get one after having a number of Norton's. The same thing happened to me when I was a kid and I saw an AC Bristol car parked on the street with the soft top up. I stopped to look at it as I had never seen such a car. I though it was the coolest looking piece of art I had ever seen. Then, some 20 years later I decide out of the blue that I want one of those cars. Since then I have had 4 of them. Anyway, the crux of my post is for you to recount your defining moment or experience that got a Norton stuck in your craw and maybe recount how you came to acquire your first Norton.

I was 17 years old in 1976, I have only owned honda dirt bikes from the age of 15, at this time my good friend Don had a 750 Commando motor in a Wideline Featherbed frame, my bike at the time was a Honda 250 TL trials bike, my friend Don loved playing with it, one day he asked me if we could swap bikes for the day as he like doing hill climing so we swapped for the day, his 750 Commando had lighten balanced crank, SS cam and other work, I had never ridden a English bike so it took awhile to get use to the gear change and brake on the other side to what I was use to, I went for a good ride up into the mountains (Mt Mee for those who know it) nice tight cornering roads, after a 4 hour ride I finely got back home, I was so wrapped how Don's Norton handled as well as power and lightness.

The following week I went to our local Harley/Norton/Triumph dealer and put a deposit on a new 74 Norton Roadster Commando, my dad went garenteed for my first ever loan and after a few days I picked up my new Norton, I didn't tell any of my friends about it till I pulled up on it, after a few years I couldn't get how well the Wideline Featherbed frames handled and my friend Don was selling a complete Featherbed frame which I brought off him, that was in 1979 and 6 months later I started to rebuild my 850 motor for the Featherbed, to this day I still own the same bike and will never sell it and I am still great friends with Don who got me hooked on Nortons, as for Don after he sold me the Wideline frame strated to build Tritons and never went back to Norton motors.

Ashley

Most recently, a Sunday ride back from Devil's Bridge on the Arkholme road towards Lancaster - a rather twisty road which is always full of bikes on weekends.
I caught up to a guy on an Apriia RSV Mille due to roadworks, and once clear we both got past the traffic, and for a while I was enjoying following the guy, who I was expecting to disappear into the distance. After a while it was evident that he wasn't pushing hard, so I got past and got into the groove. The bike was running just perfect, and was cruising along effortlessly up to around 90 on the straights.
It brought back all the memories of my reckless youth, and the guys I used to hang around with - we all had beat-up old Bonnevilles and suchlike, and we'd go GPZ baiting around Rivington on Sundays - lots of guys there with 'all the gear and no idea'.
The main difference was back then I'd spend the rest of the week getting the Bonnie back together again, but this time I just put the Commando back in the garage ready for next time.

Can't wait to get the Proddy Racer done for next year

aceaceca said:

Anyway, the crux of my post is for you to recount your defining moment or experience that got a Norton stuck in your craw and maybe recount how you came to acquire your first Norton.

Click to expand...

Very unspectacular for me: I read a classic bike feature on Featherbeds at the age of 15 and decided I want one. I bought my Atlas three years later and restored it over the span of three or four years. In these seven years I've seen exactly two Nortons in the real: A freshly restored Model 18 which was leaking so much oil that only forgotten seals and gaskets could explain and a cafe'd Commando a fellow student at the uni had. The first tour was a very, very nice reward.



Tim

Easy. It was 1988, I was 13 and hanging out at my uncles house. He got me into riding from early on, used to sit me on the tank of his CB750 and ride around the roads of our small lakeside community. Anyway, he showed me a magazine test of the bike he was getting, a new Honda VLX600 Shadow (we don't share the same taste in bikes), but a few pages over there was an article on an out-of-production bike called a Norton Commando. It was black with gold pinstriping, and I was mesmerized.
I had to endure a run of Honda CB's (350, 500, 550, 750), Suzuki T20's and even a Goldwing, but less than 10 years since seeing that magical beast in the magazine, I managed to get one, a 72 Combat, black with gold pinstriping. It's a miracle I didn't crash it on the way home after handing over the cash, I spent most the ride staring at the bike and being hypnotized by the exhaust note.
That bike is in the hands of good friend now, but I've got another one, which will NOT be sold.

Now here's a question, do you think your Norton has ever been responsible for someone elses defining Norton moment?
My first summer with my Norton, I'd ridden to the travelling carnival in our town. As I was gearing up to leave, there was a group of of 'squids' in the carpark posing with their sportsbikes. The little brother of one of them came over to check out the Norton, mouth gaping with amazement, he must've been about 13, same age as me when I'd seen my first Norton. I think he'd never seen a bike, other than a cruiser, not covered in plastic. He asked me what it was, I told him, and he turned to his brother and friends and yelled out "Hey Anthony, check this out, it's called a COMMANDO!". I lifted my leg and pushed the engine over compression, the little guy was now even more stunned, he asked "What's that?". I said "It's a kickstart, it's how I fire up the bike". He looked up at me, mouth still open, and just said slowly, "Really?", "Yup, watch" I said. He turned around again and yelled "Anthony, you gotta watch this, he's gonna start it with his leg!", they weren't interested though. I swung and it roared to life. The kid jumped back and yelled "Whoaaaaaaa!" Now he had a massive smile on his face, he looked back at his brother I guess to see if he was witnessing the same thing. The squids didn't care much, but this little kid was clearly blown away. "Have a good one, kid", and I pulled away.
I like to think that maybe he's out there somewhere (in the Newmarket, Ontario region?) enjoying his own adventures with a Commando. Shit, maybe he'll even take part in this thread. Feel free to copy and paste the above story kid.

For me, it was drooling over all the bikes in the Cycle mags back in the early 70's while I was in high school. The clincher thoough were those damned Norton Girl adds. The bikes were beautiful, the girls more so. There wasn't a Nort to be found in western Nebraska though but I sure wanted one based on those adds. I now have a red one just like my favorite Norton Girl add.



Still love this picture.

I don't really remember the first one i ever actually took notice of, but I started seeing them at British & European rallies I started attending about 15 years ago.

Some years ago, I spotted one in the shop driveway of a friend of mine that got me into Triumphs; he was doing some maintenance work on it. He was taking some time waiting on parts, and the bike stayed there, uncovered in the weather (over a week, maybe two)' in that time, some neighborhood cats deciIded to use the seat as a scratching pad.

So the owner turns out to be a high school friend, and he brought the bike to one of my charity fundraiser bikeshows. We chatted a good while, he maintained a stern face and related how ticked off he was that the cats had gotten to the seat, and the shop owner wouldn't replace it. The whole thing left him bummed, and he mentioned not wanting to fiddle with the ticklers and kicking any more.

By the end of the show, he took 2nd place in "Classic & Vintage" class. As he was pulling the bike out of line to roll it out, I asked him if he had a price in mind; he threw out a number, I countered, and we shook hands. The next day, it was mine.



The first thing I did was replace the seat, and properly set the timing on the Boyer ignition. It's been a great bike ever since; I've done 600 mile days with only a trashed thread on one exhaust port that Phil (Fair Spares) fixed for me.

I was never a motorcycle enthusiast. My brothers have all at one time or another owned them but they never did anything for me. I felt they were not worth the risk. I was a moped owner for two years when I was a teenager. A couple years ago my son's friend left a broken down moped at our house. I was going to fix it up for kicks. I was just about to start getting parts for it, when the kid took it back because he was moving. I started checking Craigslist for a moped to tinker on. Then I came across an 1976 Honda CB360. I took my son with me to test ride it because I did not know how to. I am getting to the Norton part...

I had that bike and then my friend was going to see a Norton that a coworker had in his shed. 20 years, just sitting there. And it was gorgeous. After thinking about it for a couple of months, my friend decided that he could not afford it. I bought it and started to do the rebuild. I was having some issues and thought maybe I was in over my head after a few months. I strongly considered selling it. Another friend and a Norton owner also owns a classic car and was riding his Norton to a car show. I followed behind on my Goldwing. It was during that ride, watching that bike effortlessly cruise through turns and get up and go on the straightaways that I decided to rededicate myself to getting the Norton running. Two weeks later I started it for the first time. A couple weeks later I was riding around the neighborhood. Now I just cannot get enough of it.

That ride on my Goldwing following someone else's Norton was my defining moment. It inspired me to continue getting this old gal back on the road.

Not sure about a defining moment, but I'd be about 14 years old and saw a Police Interpol at the side of the road having stopped a car for whatever reason, anyway another Interpol flew past chasing someone and the cop on that bike beckoned to the cop at the roadside to follow him. This guy then mounted the bike and hammered off following his buddy. I just stood back and watched ! from that day on, I held Commandos in awe, although I ended up with a T150v before I eventually got my first Norton , a 72 Combat Interstate, which to this day I regret selling. That bike would do an indicated 117 , and it did it pretty much every time I went out on it. Ah the joys off youth and no speed cameras.
sam

I grew up on edge of Miami Fla everglades on last paved road, long and straight, listening at night to all the various sounds of bike accelerating then decelerating for a bridge to get good impression of they all sounded on and off throttle, 2 smokes most common, then a police like loopping HD's, but the Triumphs and BSA were the Cat's Meow in best sound and best performance that I imprinted on as a pre-teen. Then my brother got a Honda 350 twin that was dang fast until riding with the Brit twins always got left behind. I got to ride it a bit - after some brother bargaining antics but couldn't afford one as was still a student heading for college. Did a year in school away from home envying the cyclistist but most Especially ".'BuD Man's" Rigtheous Molded springered no front brake HD King/Queen seated chopper, as felt like King of the Road roaring and pulling hard so Honda felt like plastic toy to me. 1972 - Got wind of a used cycle for sale cheap by a 18 yr old with a new H2 triple smoker. Went to look, but got confused double taking head-vision shaking seeing two cycles leaned on a wall one huge heavy towering English 10 speed bicycle and this wimpy naked little lawn mover like 50 cc thing that said Norton on the tank, hmm. Wanted $500 but I only had 350 and told it didn't run, so I left but was tingling at all the art work safety wire rows like seen on aircraft not one on one wired like seen on ordinary race bikes. I got it started but only ran on one jug like a big thumper on open header. In penny loafers and polyester clothes exposed vasaline hair slick with slide rule holster I timidy tried it in tight old suburban roads - thinking dang not too bad on one lung but nowhere to give it time to get over 40 mph.
Disappointed how rough it ran and not knowning nothing about cycle's my heart sank and crossed it off mind and headed back thumping like broken kettle drum.

Idled past an T intersection to see it was ~10th mile straight, so turned around and aimed it down hill toward dead end of house row, decided to see how fast it'd go so slowly opened throttle for a big grin hard pull enough it scared me by 3/4 throttle and said to self WHOA Uncle shut off while still can.... Then my life changed forever...

2nd jug hit, BLATT! bike went vertical so hard it pulled my feet off rear sets and slammed butt in fiberglass seat shell so hard it flipped it up in my face so I was literally hanging off bars blind like a flag in the wind, which of course caused throttle to hit WIDE OPEN Amals and unbelievable faster ACCELeration!!!!!! Terrified let go of throttle - front came down - got feet on pegs - push seat out of face - !!!!!!!!!! ZOOMING in Houses just yards ahead way over hiway speed - Freaked to childhood bicycle games of sanded side walk 90' turns, locked both brakes got totally sideways on both tires and frame rail to slide into the road curb and bounced to vertical with my heart beating faster than the two kettle drums at smooth sedate 600 rpm.
Terror+Love combined, like kidnap dependent victim with their captor.

I couldn't get it out of mind, took Siva Mind Control course that teaches how to use alpha and theta states to influence other minds. Had an aware dream scenario of me bargaining with this kid over a mini bike lawnmower toy, back and froth till finally he gave in and I awoke tingling just as about to ride the mini bike. I was in drug experimental daze too and had been given a small foil package with Cocaine in it to try. I got wild hair to call the seller again to find him sick as a dog with flu and asking if I had something for relief, hmm. Asked him if Coke would do it, he said yes, so for a toot of Cocaine + $350, the deal went down on a '68 Ranger 2 yr National dragbike champion with best time reported to be 10.49 sec 1/4 mile on 4" flat slick. Only thing my Ms Peel Combat had over that P!!killer thriller was smoothness and cornering but paled timid power even though angry ridden '04-'05 600's couldn't keep up with Peel no matter the conditions. I tired other bikes over 3 decades but none did anything for me so took up water sports instead...


Almost killed here as driver not paying attention to how close he was to river shore before turning to snap my whip, rope should be tight and arms stretched full out and farther over angle at apex but had to pull in arms to cut short enough not to hit the huge tree fall at ~70 mph - look at small avatar an note the shadow outline of tree as water curtain just contacting it. Yeah man couple dozen yds travel before water spray even splashed off the log. Only Ms Peel has pulled my wrists that hard out of apexes since. Front of skis or motorcycles don't steer nothing when the going gets tough.

My defining moment was riding my '87 BMW K75C, trying to keep up with my friend riding my '74 850 Roadster. I remember doing 105 and him pulling away smartly from me. Wife was on the back, sticking her thumb in my ribs to slow down. Academic at that point, he had waxed me with my own bike. And that K75 was no slouch. Not the most exciting bike in the world, but didn't mind being caned and had a good charge on the top end.

In the late 50s and early 60s my old man was a Matchless dealer/racer, so I was hooked by the time I could walk, growing up around all those old racers and that little bike shop, being carted to dirt-track races and reading factory literature and repair manuals for British bikes. There was an old rigid Matchless single sitting in a junk pile in the back yard that as a child I remember grabbing some odd tools and playing with.
When I got out of high school at the end of the 1970s the REAL Matchless bikes were hard to find just like they were even when they were new, but Norton Commandos were very cheap and easy to find and had the same gearbox, close enough, so I ended up riding them. One of my father's old customers had bought a 650cc Norton Manxman new in April 1961 and I ended up being the second owner of it and getting into the featherbed framed bikes over the last 25 years.
In the end I may have no Nortons at all, if I time things right there might just be a lone Matchless G12cs for someone to get rid of when they spread my ashes.

I have told this before, but....when I was 17/18, a friend of mine had a 750 Commando Roadster in black, and sent it to P Dunstall for his 810 conversion and also the 2-1-2 exhaust system. At the time, I was riding a battered 650 TriBsa with no brakes and a top speed probably about 70 mph (I didn't know anything about engines then). The Commando had sloping forward cylinders, upswept exhaust, stylish z plates, disc brake, the chunky primary chain case, it just ooozed style with a bit of machoism..............I was in love, and then the sound, which is still one of the best sounds to this day.

I managed to get one 4 years later, and I still hold with all of the above. See below.

My "Friends" escorted me to the local shop saying you had to have this bike in the window. The Dealer started it up for me indoors on the showroom window floor for say 10 seconds , and I said "I'll take it". So that's where the education fund $1800 from the parents went. A year of pure happiness, (P.E.I. and back) until things wore out. A-lot. Great year , no regrets. 17 yrs. old ?

My Norton defining moment came late in life after I'd owned one for twenty years. My mate used to own my Seeley and had a Laverda 750 motor in it. I raced against it once and soundly beat it, but it had a lot of potential. He sold the bike to another guy who pulled it apart. I followed it around for a couple of years and managed to buy the rolling chassis and tanks for about $300 (in 1978). I tried to get the Laverda motor, but it was in the hands of someone who valued it highly. So I bought a Mk2A motor for $1300, and a standard four speed box for $300. I made engine plates and built the Seeley 850. I never believed in it, although it was sort of similar to the successful Gus Kuhn Nortons in the UK. It sat around until 2003, untried. My mate still had a comp. licence, so I suggested he might like to have a race on it. We took it to a meeting at Winton, and all the usual things happened - pulled a valve out of a tube, bits got loose, but one dangerous thing happened. As he came off a left hand sweeper, under brakes it stood up and turned right and nearly decked him. He warned me about it, but the next year I raced it myself and had the same experience. I changed the fork yokes and now it self-steers under power.
My Norton defining moment came when we went to the old farts meeting at Mount Gambier in South Australia, and I won two races with it. I then raced it at Winton after fitting a 4 speed CR gearbox, and got a really good close look at the fast guys with the 1100cc CB750s, before it popped a fuel line and stopped. I will be there next year with my new 6 speed TTI box fitted, and I will give them some real hurry-up. The main protagonist is a nice arrogant sort of guy, I'd just love to burn his arse (ass, to you Americans).
My Norton appeals to my sense of humour - 'some things are so bad that they are good' ?
I absolutely love it !

My defining moment was when I read, back in the day, that it was a 12.69 quarter-miler in whatever bike mag I saw that in. I bought a Commando shortly afterward - when it truly WAS a superbike. I sold it in '78 because I got tired of kick starting when all my buddies where just pushing a button. I still find that annoying with my 850 which is why I purchased the Alton kit.

I ran across a picture very similar to the one above many years ago. That's all it took to make me want a Commando. Through sheer luck that's what happened.

From 1976 and through the 80's I owned various oriental machines starting with a Honda 250G5 to a couple of Suzuki's from the GS550 to the GS1000S.
One of my friends had this THING called a TRITON, it was a really ratty machine with a large fiberglass combined fuel/oil tank held on with a leather strap, single seat held on by a bungy cord and straight through pipes coming from an 8 valve Weslake head.
The T120 engine had been worked on and contained a Norton Crank which gave this THING an amazing turn of speed and with the featherbed frame the handling was impeccable.
My friend wanted to buy this other bike called a Commando and needed to sell the THING so I became it's new owner and spent many happy miles on it's saddle.
The Commando turned out to be a JPN and the first time I saw and heard this machine I was awestruck it just looked fast when it was parked.
In 1981 I got married and moved to Germany, the THING was sold to another friend of mine and my British bike ownership ceased, I regret to this day selling that bike it was a wolf in sheep's clothing that gave many a big Jap bike rider a shock as it left them for dead.
In 1982 for our first wedding anniversary my wife bought me my second ever British bike that I still have today, a basket case JPN.
I sold the GS1000S to finance the good bits that I needed to build the Norton and had it running in no time. In 1985 the oil return pipe decided to part company from the block on the crankcase and I lost all the oil over the road and ran a big end, since then It's been in numerous lockup's and storage.
In 2009 I built a workshop solely for the purpose of rebuilding it again and started work.
In 2010 my wife was diagnosed with cancer and despite the best efforts of the hospital passed away in April 2011.
My defining moment was the evening in July 2012 when after 27 years my wife's anniversary present to me was fired up, and to hear that lovely tick over through peashooter pipes, it's a special bike in more ways than one.

willy mac, that's a very bitter/sweet story, and I'm sorry about your loss. I suppose that there will always be that connection between the Norton and your wife though.

I guess my "defining moment" was back in 1977 when my high school bud bought a '72 Combat...a pure stock black & gold beauty. Shortly after buying it he transformed her into a "Dunstall" setup with the vintage 70's fairing, seat and tank. We used to play volleyball every Monday night approx. 20 miles south of Erie, PA on twisty, sweepy Rte. 8. One night my bud gave me a ride back into town on the back of his Snorton, passing every car in our way and literally scared the sh*t out of me. He deposited me at my house in town, shaking....but HOOKED!

About a year later he showed up at my door, scared that the IRS was coming down on him and his Dad...back taxes for their doughnut shop they had in town...he needed $1200 immediately. He wondered if I would be willing to give him the $$ to make things good w/ the Feds. Well, I went over to my "bank" (under the mattress) and fished out 12 Ben Franklin notes and said they were his in exchange for the bike title.

I was riding a Triumph Trophy 500 at the time, which I thought was pretty quick. Anyway, my bud ended up taking the money and ran off to Costa Rica to sell timeshares, but left me the key & title. It was a snowy December morning when I went over to his parent's house to retrieve my steed...literally buried in a snow bank. Throwing off the tarp, I knew enough to tickle the carbs and bring the kickstart up to top...and....wham...1st kick start. Anyway, I pulled out of his back yard with his snarling Dalmation inches away from my leg and headed out onto dry streets....by the time I hit second gear I was smiling like a bandit saying "Holy F*ck" to myself under my vintage Bell helmet. It's been a love affair ever since....still own the same bike...the way I see it, my real true love has outlasted every girlfriend and wife that has ever come along...and more faithful to boot....unlike the women I've known, I've known where she's been every night for 32 years, she's never been out with another guy, and...best of all...she has rarely says "no" when I want to ride 8).