As noted on here many times, I like a wide variety of bikes. As long as it has two wheels and an engine, there's a pretty good chance I'm going to like it.
With that said, though, I tend to gravitate toward classic bikes and fast bikes. I like the classic bikes for their looks and character and I like fast bikes because they're...Well, because they're fast. Sometimes, though, something comes along that goes against all logic that I find myself attracted to.
An example of that is the Harley-Davidson Cross Bones, a Hog dressed-up to look like a 40s-50s bobber.
Yes, yes; I can hear the groaning already. Before you start throwing tomatoes at me, allow me to explain.
I don't care at all for choppers and bobbers. The idea of taking a capable machine and then removing all the capability of it seems ridiculous to me. The Softail, though, was never meant to be capable. It wasn't meant to carve corners, tackle rough terrain or tour the face of the Earth. It was meant to look like a 40s Harley and it does that very well. A Softail with a springer front end really goes the vintage route by using an obsolete front suspension system.
In the sense of the Cross Bones, a "capable" bike wasn't ruined for the pursuit of style, thus allowing me to like it. It's nice when you can make up your own rules. That must be what being a politician is like.
Anyway, I like the Cross Bones because it's ridiculous. It has next-to-no lean angle, there's not much in the way of comfort and the Softail is soft compared to getting smashed by a steel bar. It also has the tires from a Willys Jeep. Oh, how could I forget the factory apes and the all-covering black paint? As if all that wasn't punishment enough, the Big Twin is rigid mounted to the frame. This means the vibes go straight up your spine and into your brain, making you believe you're Chino from The Wild One.
Before you laugh and call this bike a dinosaur, there is some technology. It has fuel injection, a security system and...Um...Rubber tires. Okay, so high tech isn't high priority. It's supposed to be a dinosaur.
I sat on one at the Progressive motorcycle show a few years ago and immediately felt that a bike like the Cross Bones was perfect for an irreverent ingrate like myself. I don't take myself seriously at all and the Cross Bones is a bike I could never take seriously. Even the name is ridiculous. Cross Bones...That sounds like the name of a bad pirate from a bad movie. I would so watch that movie, too.
I thought how funny it would be riding one around. I then looked at the price and my eyes began to water and my sphincter clenched like I was on Riker's Island. For strictly a laugh, then, I'll just buy a few Monty Python DVDs instead.
But I still like the Cross Bones. It has that middle finger attitude the teenage rebel in us all finds attractive. It isn't trying to outmaneuver or out-tech a Ducati Panigale; it isn't trying to be a green commuter bike or a globe-trotting adventurer. It's take-no-prisoners attitude on wheels. It thumbs its nose at convention, common sense and logic. It makes you step back and question what it is about motorcycling that draws you to it. Some, like me, enjoy riding a motorcycle because simply for the fun of it. I think a bike like the Cross Bones is for people like that who want a laugh and who are not serious.
They better have deep pockets, though...
Monday, December 31, 2012
Friday, December 14, 2012
A Few of My Favorite Things
I write a lot about the motorcycles I like, which means I write a lot about Italian motorcycles. I like them because they're mad, impractical and finicky. At the complete opposite end of the spectrum are Japanese motorcycles. They're precise, refined and forgiving. On paper, it makes you wonder why someone would put up with a mad Italian instead of the more conventional Japanese.
The problem is that conventional is boring. The mad Italian might only work occasionally and give you fits, but when it's working, it's very exciting. The Japanese bike will just work, all the time. That sort of reliability is nice but it doesn't do much for excitement.
Italian bikes also have the p-word: passion. The p-word is the sort of defense you use to justify extreme riding positions, wallet-searing costs of ownership and ridiculous maintenance procedures. The Japanese? Not so much. It's easy to look at the lineup of a Japanese manufacturer and see a range of bikes that look like they were stamped out of the same cookie sheet. Even the sport bikes look this way.
So, in summary, it seems Italian bikes are exciting and Japanese bikes are boring.
Not so fast, though.
While it may appear like the Japanese simply churn out cookie-cutter bikes for the masses, that isn't entirely accurate. Underneath the reliability, engineering and refinement is a great deal of passion. The Japanese can do exciting, and they can do it very well.
The two fastest production bikes in the world are Japanese. They have dominated the racing stage for nearly 40 years. They have brought racing technology to the street in a way never before seen. Exotic equipment like liquid-cooling, aluminum frames, overhead cams, disc brakes, four-cylinder engines, electronic fuel injection, turbocharging, anti-dive forks, mono-shock rear suspension, etc., etc. have been brought to the masses because of the Japanese.
What I'd like to do is present the top 10 Japanese bikes that move me in some way. By no means are these the top 10 best bikes to come from Japan. They are instead the 10 that I like best and would look best in my garage. They are in order, by the way.
1. Suzuki GS1000 Katana
I've written about the original Katana before and it has to be my all-time favorite Japanese bike. It's brutal, fast and uncompromising. I think its polarizing looks are fantastic and this bike paved the way for the modern sport bike as we know it.
2. Suzuki RG500 Gamma
The Gamma was a two-stroke street replica of the bike that won seven consecutive constructor's titles. The frame was aluminum, the front wheel was an 80s-chic 16 incher and the whole package was as big as a postage stamp. It weighed as much, too. Powering the monster was a 93 bhp square four, which was essentially two parallel twins chained together. I like it because it was pretty advanced for its day and it has its carbs on the side of the engine and a kick start,
3. Kawasaki KZ1000R
I like the big Kawi fours, even if their braking and handling were terrifying. They were fast and that was the whole point. The KZ1000R stands out for me because it was the Eddie Lawson replica model. The regular KZ was modified with a Kerker four-into-one, sculpted seat, rear-set pegs, low bars and a nice bikini fairing. The engine was blacked out and the rest was splashed with Kawasaki green like Eddie's AMA superbike. A feature that stands out was factory remote reservoir rear shocks. Contemporary tests said they were rubbish but they were cool none the less.
4. Honda RC51
Honda built this to compete in World Superbike, where v-twins were allowed to be displaced up to 1,000cc. Honda had previously relied on their 750cc v-four. They won championships in the first two years of the series and then watched as Ducati marched to eight championships in 11 years with v-twins. It was only natural for them to go with what was winning. It worked as Honda won two more championships.
The 999cc twin had the usual fare: DOHC, four valves and two fuel injectors per cylinder. The frame was aluminum and there were trick components everywhere. What really does it for me is the break from tradition. Honda's big bad bikes were usually based around a four, either inline or vee. The v-twin sportbike was effectively Italy's territory. Honda proved they could make a v-twin that could not only compete with the dominating Ducatis but could also beat them.
5. Honda V-Fours
As the 80s were dawning, superbikes were running into a problem. As the engines kept getting bigger, they kept getting wider and heavier. Some moved their alternators behind the engine to save width but it wasn't enough. Honda solved these issues by switching from an inline four to a v-four. The result was a slimmer bike and with clever packaging, length wasn't affected. The new v-four was also liquid-cooled. The early VFs and VFRs marched onto the race track and did battle for a number of years as Honda's weapon of choice. When they started to be surpassed by lighter, faster bikes, Honda changed gears and rebranded the VFR as a sport-touring bike. The current VFR1200 carries on the tradition of innovation by offering a paddle-shift transmission, a first for a motorcycle.
6. Honda CBX
Before Honda got smart with the v-four, they went mad with the CBX. This bike was a monster featuring a 1,047cc inline six with 24 valves, six carbs and 105 bhp. It was an atomic bomb in a world of TNT. The bike was physically massive; the engine stuck out past the gas tank and was positioned front and center for optimal viewing. Well, with an engine that big, front and center was the only option. The CBX lasted only a few years and was eventually turned into a tourer before being dropped. As it was, the CBX was a perfect exclamation point for a decade of superbike excess.
7. Kawasaki GPz750 Turbo
The 80s were crazed for anything turbo: sunglasses, razors, cars, etc. Turbos were so popular the even GM built turbo cars. Naturally, the turbo craze made its way to motorcycles, too. Kawasaki released a few turbo Z1-Rs in the late 70s but they were pretty fierce and served really to highlight the Z1-R's numerous flaws. They struck back with the GPz750, which had an actual chassis designed for a powerful bike and brakes that worked. The GPz also shined against its competitors in classic Kawi style by being the fastest and most-powerful of the turbo bikes. It used a strengthened 750 engine with fuel injection that put out 113 bhp. Its competitors used carbs for their turbos and made less power as a result. The turbo era was short for motorcycles and this bike has sort of faded off in the annals of history. It's a shame, really.
8. Yamaha RZ350 (a.k.a. RD350 LC)
Smog laws had all but chased the two-strokes out of the American market by the late 70s. One holdout, though, was Yamaha, who brought a wicked little smoker back for two short years. The RZ350 was a miniscule bike that would terrorize the back roads and embarrass much bigger bikes through the magic of power-to-weight ratio. It wasn't as fast as a 900 Ninja but it carried none of the bulk, resulting in a scorching good time. The one to get is the Kenny Roberts edition in yellow and black with King Kenny's signature on the fairing.
9. Suzuki GT750
As the superbike arms race was heating up, each manufacturer was looking to create the next rocket. Instead of a giant inline four, Suzuki went with what it knew: two-strokes. They brought to the world a 739cc smoker with liquid-cooling and tons of chrome. Talk about being left field. What the Water Buffalo became was a legend, a middle finger to the four-stroke establishment. Suzuki pioneered by doing things their own way. Unfortunately, emissions laws and ever-quickening competition led to the Water Buffalo being replaced by the four-stroke GS fours. As such, this fire-breathing smoker's short life came to a quick end.
10. Yamaha V-Max
A lot of bikes are designed to be useful in many ways. Some can see work as commuters, weekend tourers and back road burners. Some can even be used for track days. The V-Max had none of this versatility in mind. It was built for one thing and one thing only: to go fast in a straight line. Cornering, braking and versatility were ignored.
This is a muscle bike in the purest sense. Basically, it's a big engine with a bike wrapped around it. Jay Gleason singed the drag strip on the way to a time in the low tens, faster than any other bike you could buy. The big 1,197cc v-four may have come from the Venture touring sofa but the similarities ended there. Power and compression was upped and the engine used a V-Boost system, which was a set of butterfly valves in the intake to ingest more air. The V-Max remained in production relatively unchanged from 1986 until 2008. The new VMAX debuted in 2009 with a 1,679cc v-four and 174 bhp. V-Boost returns only this time it's electrically controlled. The VMAX is still mad, bad and fast.
I'm also going to add two more bikes to my top 10 list, simply because I can:
11. Goose's Kwaka from Mad Max
Mad Maxi is a movie full of cool cars and bikes but Goose's MFP Kwaka stands out to me. I like KZ1000s to begin with but the treatment given to this bike is excellent. The fairing and the paint scheme look great and the character of Goose tops it all off. I like to crank the volume when he goes tearing off down the road and lets the big four scream.
12. 1977 Suzuki GS550B
In all, this was a fairly normal bike. It, along with the GS750 were Suzuki's first four-strokes. Both were four-cylinders with DOHC and eight valves. The 550 had a six-speed trans, though. Why this bike is important to me was not that it was Suzuki's first four-stroke but that it was my first bike. I bought off the original owner for an extremely low price. It was in great shape and I genuinely miss it. My old Suzuki was a fantastic bike with its own quirks and personality. It had a Kerker four-into-one that made it sound like a GP bike at 9,000 rpm. I'll probably own another some day.
The problem is that conventional is boring. The mad Italian might only work occasionally and give you fits, but when it's working, it's very exciting. The Japanese bike will just work, all the time. That sort of reliability is nice but it doesn't do much for excitement.
Italian bikes also have the p-word: passion. The p-word is the sort of defense you use to justify extreme riding positions, wallet-searing costs of ownership and ridiculous maintenance procedures. The Japanese? Not so much. It's easy to look at the lineup of a Japanese manufacturer and see a range of bikes that look like they were stamped out of the same cookie sheet. Even the sport bikes look this way.
So, in summary, it seems Italian bikes are exciting and Japanese bikes are boring.
Not so fast, though.
While it may appear like the Japanese simply churn out cookie-cutter bikes for the masses, that isn't entirely accurate. Underneath the reliability, engineering and refinement is a great deal of passion. The Japanese can do exciting, and they can do it very well.
The two fastest production bikes in the world are Japanese. They have dominated the racing stage for nearly 40 years. They have brought racing technology to the street in a way never before seen. Exotic equipment like liquid-cooling, aluminum frames, overhead cams, disc brakes, four-cylinder engines, electronic fuel injection, turbocharging, anti-dive forks, mono-shock rear suspension, etc., etc. have been brought to the masses because of the Japanese.
What I'd like to do is present the top 10 Japanese bikes that move me in some way. By no means are these the top 10 best bikes to come from Japan. They are instead the 10 that I like best and would look best in my garage. They are in order, by the way.
1. Suzuki GS1000 Katana
I've written about the original Katana before and it has to be my all-time favorite Japanese bike. It's brutal, fast and uncompromising. I think its polarizing looks are fantastic and this bike paved the way for the modern sport bike as we know it.
2. Suzuki RG500 Gamma
The Gamma was a two-stroke street replica of the bike that won seven consecutive constructor's titles. The frame was aluminum, the front wheel was an 80s-chic 16 incher and the whole package was as big as a postage stamp. It weighed as much, too. Powering the monster was a 93 bhp square four, which was essentially two parallel twins chained together. I like it because it was pretty advanced for its day and it has its carbs on the side of the engine and a kick start,
3. Kawasaki KZ1000R
I like the big Kawi fours, even if their braking and handling were terrifying. They were fast and that was the whole point. The KZ1000R stands out for me because it was the Eddie Lawson replica model. The regular KZ was modified with a Kerker four-into-one, sculpted seat, rear-set pegs, low bars and a nice bikini fairing. The engine was blacked out and the rest was splashed with Kawasaki green like Eddie's AMA superbike. A feature that stands out was factory remote reservoir rear shocks. Contemporary tests said they were rubbish but they were cool none the less.
4. Honda RC51
Honda built this to compete in World Superbike, where v-twins were allowed to be displaced up to 1,000cc. Honda had previously relied on their 750cc v-four. They won championships in the first two years of the series and then watched as Ducati marched to eight championships in 11 years with v-twins. It was only natural for them to go with what was winning. It worked as Honda won two more championships.
The 999cc twin had the usual fare: DOHC, four valves and two fuel injectors per cylinder. The frame was aluminum and there were trick components everywhere. What really does it for me is the break from tradition. Honda's big bad bikes were usually based around a four, either inline or vee. The v-twin sportbike was effectively Italy's territory. Honda proved they could make a v-twin that could not only compete with the dominating Ducatis but could also beat them.
5. Honda V-Fours
As the 80s were dawning, superbikes were running into a problem. As the engines kept getting bigger, they kept getting wider and heavier. Some moved their alternators behind the engine to save width but it wasn't enough. Honda solved these issues by switching from an inline four to a v-four. The result was a slimmer bike and with clever packaging, length wasn't affected. The new v-four was also liquid-cooled. The early VFs and VFRs marched onto the race track and did battle for a number of years as Honda's weapon of choice. When they started to be surpassed by lighter, faster bikes, Honda changed gears and rebranded the VFR as a sport-touring bike. The current VFR1200 carries on the tradition of innovation by offering a paddle-shift transmission, a first for a motorcycle.
6. Honda CBX
Before Honda got smart with the v-four, they went mad with the CBX. This bike was a monster featuring a 1,047cc inline six with 24 valves, six carbs and 105 bhp. It was an atomic bomb in a world of TNT. The bike was physically massive; the engine stuck out past the gas tank and was positioned front and center for optimal viewing. Well, with an engine that big, front and center was the only option. The CBX lasted only a few years and was eventually turned into a tourer before being dropped. As it was, the CBX was a perfect exclamation point for a decade of superbike excess.
7. Kawasaki GPz750 Turbo
The 80s were crazed for anything turbo: sunglasses, razors, cars, etc. Turbos were so popular the even GM built turbo cars. Naturally, the turbo craze made its way to motorcycles, too. Kawasaki released a few turbo Z1-Rs in the late 70s but they were pretty fierce and served really to highlight the Z1-R's numerous flaws. They struck back with the GPz750, which had an actual chassis designed for a powerful bike and brakes that worked. The GPz also shined against its competitors in classic Kawi style by being the fastest and most-powerful of the turbo bikes. It used a strengthened 750 engine with fuel injection that put out 113 bhp. Its competitors used carbs for their turbos and made less power as a result. The turbo era was short for motorcycles and this bike has sort of faded off in the annals of history. It's a shame, really.
8. Yamaha RZ350 (a.k.a. RD350 LC)
Smog laws had all but chased the two-strokes out of the American market by the late 70s. One holdout, though, was Yamaha, who brought a wicked little smoker back for two short years. The RZ350 was a miniscule bike that would terrorize the back roads and embarrass much bigger bikes through the magic of power-to-weight ratio. It wasn't as fast as a 900 Ninja but it carried none of the bulk, resulting in a scorching good time. The one to get is the Kenny Roberts edition in yellow and black with King Kenny's signature on the fairing.
9. Suzuki GT750
As the superbike arms race was heating up, each manufacturer was looking to create the next rocket. Instead of a giant inline four, Suzuki went with what it knew: two-strokes. They brought to the world a 739cc smoker with liquid-cooling and tons of chrome. Talk about being left field. What the Water Buffalo became was a legend, a middle finger to the four-stroke establishment. Suzuki pioneered by doing things their own way. Unfortunately, emissions laws and ever-quickening competition led to the Water Buffalo being replaced by the four-stroke GS fours. As such, this fire-breathing smoker's short life came to a quick end.
10. Yamaha V-Max
A lot of bikes are designed to be useful in many ways. Some can see work as commuters, weekend tourers and back road burners. Some can even be used for track days. The V-Max had none of this versatility in mind. It was built for one thing and one thing only: to go fast in a straight line. Cornering, braking and versatility were ignored.
This is a muscle bike in the purest sense. Basically, it's a big engine with a bike wrapped around it. Jay Gleason singed the drag strip on the way to a time in the low tens, faster than any other bike you could buy. The big 1,197cc v-four may have come from the Venture touring sofa but the similarities ended there. Power and compression was upped and the engine used a V-Boost system, which was a set of butterfly valves in the intake to ingest more air. The V-Max remained in production relatively unchanged from 1986 until 2008. The new VMAX debuted in 2009 with a 1,679cc v-four and 174 bhp. V-Boost returns only this time it's electrically controlled. The VMAX is still mad, bad and fast.
I'm also going to add two more bikes to my top 10 list, simply because I can:
11. Goose's Kwaka from Mad Max
Mad Maxi is a movie full of cool cars and bikes but Goose's MFP Kwaka stands out to me. I like KZ1000s to begin with but the treatment given to this bike is excellent. The fairing and the paint scheme look great and the character of Goose tops it all off. I like to crank the volume when he goes tearing off down the road and lets the big four scream.
12. 1977 Suzuki GS550B
In all, this was a fairly normal bike. It, along with the GS750 were Suzuki's first four-strokes. Both were four-cylinders with DOHC and eight valves. The 550 had a six-speed trans, though. Why this bike is important to me was not that it was Suzuki's first four-stroke but that it was my first bike. I bought off the original owner for an extremely low price. It was in great shape and I genuinely miss it. My old Suzuki was a fantastic bike with its own quirks and personality. It had a Kerker four-into-one that made it sound like a GP bike at 9,000 rpm. I'll probably own another some day.
Monday, November 19, 2012
The Mad Men From Rimini
Way back in the 70s, when things like disco, Boston (the band) and brown were popular, a trio of engineers got together in a shed in the Italian coastal town of Rimini to make motorcycles better.
Boy, did they ever.
What resulted from their efforts were motorcycles that were mad, exotic and expensive. Everything was handmade to the highest specifications and no idea was too far-fetched. As with most interesting stories, there is beauty, strife and rebirth. This is not the story of an ordinary company that faced hard times. Most companies do. This is the story of another kind of company; a company built on ambitious engineering and big ideas.
This is the story of Bimota.
Bimota began in 1973 as the brainchild of three engineers: Valerio Bianchi, Guiseppe Morri and Massimo Tamburini. The combination of their three names gave birth to Bimota - Bianchi, Morri and Tamburini.
The company started out making frames for the ever more powerful motorcycles from Japan. Honda, Suzuki, Yamaha and Kawasaki were making big power from their four-cylinder engines but their frames were far behind in development. A combination of poor design and weak material led to interesting handling, especially in Kawasaki's case. Racing victories ensued, which helped launch Bimota's business. Frame kits were soon offered to the general public. Well, those who could afford them, anyway. Others such as Rickman and Harris from England and Fritz Egli from Switzerland had similar ideas.
What set Bimota apart was their willingness to take risks. While its competitors were going traditional routes, Bimota was doing things like placing the fuel tank lower in the frame and using monoshock rear suspension. This may sound quaint by today's standards but this was heady stuff back then.
In the 80s, however, the Japanese started to close in on the Italians in terms of handling. They were also applying the ideas learned from racing into their road bikes, so once exotic technology was starting to become commonplace. Justifying an exotic like a Bimota was becoming more difficult.
What Bimota needed was something to make them viable again; something to show the world they were still the leader in exotica. The first bit of help came in the form of the DB1, their first collaboration with Ducati. Both companies were in trouble at the time and both needed something new. Ducati's Pantah engine was surrounded by Bimota frame and then wrapped in all-enclosed bodywork. The DB1 provided the shot in the arm Bimota needed to stay afloat.
The second bit of help came in the form of Pierluigi Marconi's thesis.
The resulting machine was very similar to the then-current Bimotas. It had a trick frame and enclosed bodywork. It was also powered by a Ducati Pantah V-twin like the DB1. Its party piece was the subject of Marconi's thesis: hub-centric steering.
Instead of the usual hydraulic fork, the Tesi ( thesis in Italian) had a swinging arm in the front and one front damper. This front arm eliminated the flex in the front forks under braking. Another advantage was the lack of dive under braking. This gave the Tesi a huge amount of stability under braking, much more than with the traditional hydraulic fork.
Continuing into the 90s, Bimota kept to their history of putting exotic frames around production engines. In 1997, they released the V Due, their first bike completely built in house. The usually Bimota trick frame and top-shelf suspension were there but the V Due had something else that was new: Bimota's first engine.
This engine was a 499cc two-stroke V-twin with direct fuel injection designed to meet the new restrictive emissions standards. This advanced fuel injection took eight years to develop and was supposed to solve the emissions problems with two strokes. The V Due should have been a return to prominence for Bimota, who were becoming less and less relevant as regular production bikes got better.
Instead, the bike turned out to be hugely flawed. The fuel injection system worked so poorly that some considered the bike to be "born bad." Irate owners of the expensive V Due demanded that Bimota fix the problem but the company could never get the bike to run right. Bimota ended up recalling all 340 V Dues produced.
While this was going on, one of their major racing sponsors backed out, leaving a huge amount of debt owned to Bimota. These two coinciding events plunged the already struggling company into bankruptcy. The shop in Rimini that set out to change motorcycles for the better was now closed.
All was not lost, however. In 2003, a group of investors bought Bimota and pumped some much-needed cash into the company. As a result, Bimota returned to the scene in 2005 with a range of bikes powered by Suzuki and Ducati engines. The Tesi came back, too, with a new Ducati powerplant and an updated hub-centric front end.
What's the reason behind this history lesson, you ask? The group of new Bimotas recently released is what spurred this post. Ten years ago the company was dead and now they're releasing a motard (DB10), a Ducati-powered off roader (DBx), and a new superbike based around the drivetrain from the BMW S1000RR (BB2). In a new direction, Bimota is even releasing a sport-touring bike, the DB12. This model is the first Bimota to have a passenger seat. They've also again tried their hand at building a two-stroke engine in-house. The BBx dirt bike is powered by a 300cc two-stroke single.
Don't think they've gone soft, though. The new DB11 VLX has the engine from a Ducati 1198 between its trick frame rails. And before you think it's just some exotic bits thrown on a production engine, it has a unique engine management and exhaust system. Oh, and it has one more thing: a twin-screw supercharger. With the blower between the cylinders, power goes up to 190 bhp.
No one knows how long Bimota will be around this time but the future looks bright for the mad men from Rimini. Bimotas, especially the Tesi, have always struck a chord with me because of their exotic nature and their willingness to take risks. I like a company that's willing to put good sense aside and do what others won't. I hope Bimota stays around for a long time and they continue to be mad, exotic and expensive.
Boy, did they ever.
What resulted from their efforts were motorcycles that were mad, exotic and expensive. Everything was handmade to the highest specifications and no idea was too far-fetched. As with most interesting stories, there is beauty, strife and rebirth. This is not the story of an ordinary company that faced hard times. Most companies do. This is the story of another kind of company; a company built on ambitious engineering and big ideas.
This is the story of Bimota.
Bimota began in 1973 as the brainchild of three engineers: Valerio Bianchi, Guiseppe Morri and Massimo Tamburini. The combination of their three names gave birth to Bimota - Bianchi, Morri and Tamburini.
The company started out making frames for the ever more powerful motorcycles from Japan. Honda, Suzuki, Yamaha and Kawasaki were making big power from their four-cylinder engines but their frames were far behind in development. A combination of poor design and weak material led to interesting handling, especially in Kawasaki's case. Racing victories ensued, which helped launch Bimota's business. Frame kits were soon offered to the general public. Well, those who could afford them, anyway. Others such as Rickman and Harris from England and Fritz Egli from Switzerland had similar ideas.
What set Bimota apart was their willingness to take risks. While its competitors were going traditional routes, Bimota was doing things like placing the fuel tank lower in the frame and using monoshock rear suspension. This may sound quaint by today's standards but this was heady stuff back then.
In the 80s, however, the Japanese started to close in on the Italians in terms of handling. They were also applying the ideas learned from racing into their road bikes, so once exotic technology was starting to become commonplace. Justifying an exotic like a Bimota was becoming more difficult.
What Bimota needed was something to make them viable again; something to show the world they were still the leader in exotica. The first bit of help came in the form of the DB1, their first collaboration with Ducati. Both companies were in trouble at the time and both needed something new. Ducati's Pantah engine was surrounded by Bimota frame and then wrapped in all-enclosed bodywork. The DB1 provided the shot in the arm Bimota needed to stay afloat.
The second bit of help came in the form of Pierluigi Marconi's thesis.
The resulting machine was very similar to the then-current Bimotas. It had a trick frame and enclosed bodywork. It was also powered by a Ducati Pantah V-twin like the DB1. Its party piece was the subject of Marconi's thesis: hub-centric steering.
Instead of the usual hydraulic fork, the Tesi ( thesis in Italian) had a swinging arm in the front and one front damper. This front arm eliminated the flex in the front forks under braking. Another advantage was the lack of dive under braking. This gave the Tesi a huge amount of stability under braking, much more than with the traditional hydraulic fork.
Continuing into the 90s, Bimota kept to their history of putting exotic frames around production engines. In 1997, they released the V Due, their first bike completely built in house. The usually Bimota trick frame and top-shelf suspension were there but the V Due had something else that was new: Bimota's first engine.
This engine was a 499cc two-stroke V-twin with direct fuel injection designed to meet the new restrictive emissions standards. This advanced fuel injection took eight years to develop and was supposed to solve the emissions problems with two strokes. The V Due should have been a return to prominence for Bimota, who were becoming less and less relevant as regular production bikes got better.
Instead, the bike turned out to be hugely flawed. The fuel injection system worked so poorly that some considered the bike to be "born bad." Irate owners of the expensive V Due demanded that Bimota fix the problem but the company could never get the bike to run right. Bimota ended up recalling all 340 V Dues produced.
While this was going on, one of their major racing sponsors backed out, leaving a huge amount of debt owned to Bimota. These two coinciding events plunged the already struggling company into bankruptcy. The shop in Rimini that set out to change motorcycles for the better was now closed.
All was not lost, however. In 2003, a group of investors bought Bimota and pumped some much-needed cash into the company. As a result, Bimota returned to the scene in 2005 with a range of bikes powered by Suzuki and Ducati engines. The Tesi came back, too, with a new Ducati powerplant and an updated hub-centric front end.
What's the reason behind this history lesson, you ask? The group of new Bimotas recently released is what spurred this post. Ten years ago the company was dead and now they're releasing a motard (DB10), a Ducati-powered off roader (DBx), and a new superbike based around the drivetrain from the BMW S1000RR (BB2). In a new direction, Bimota is even releasing a sport-touring bike, the DB12. This model is the first Bimota to have a passenger seat. They've also again tried their hand at building a two-stroke engine in-house. The BBx dirt bike is powered by a 300cc two-stroke single.
Don't think they've gone soft, though. The new DB11 VLX has the engine from a Ducati 1198 between its trick frame rails. And before you think it's just some exotic bits thrown on a production engine, it has a unique engine management and exhaust system. Oh, and it has one more thing: a twin-screw supercharger. With the blower between the cylinders, power goes up to 190 bhp.
No one knows how long Bimota will be around this time but the future looks bright for the mad men from Rimini. Bimotas, especially the Tesi, have always struck a chord with me because of their exotic nature and their willingness to take risks. I like a company that's willing to put good sense aside and do what others won't. I hope Bimota stays around for a long time and they continue to be mad, exotic and expensive.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Close the Lights
Well, the first full week of November is upon us and that means the riding season is officially over for me. The lows are starting to dip into the 20s; that's too cold for me. This weekend I removed the batteries from the bikes and put them on a shelf in the basement.
Looking back, I'd say this past riding season was a good one. I didn't go on any long trips, though I planned probably a hundred of them. Dreaming up trips on Google Maps is a great way to kill an hour or so. Anyway, I took a few day trips but nothing major this year.
With that said, I managed to put a record number of miles on the bikes this year. I put about 5,000 combined miles on both bikes (hold your applause, please), which is the most I've ever put on in one season. The reason for this were the weekend jaunts I took to forget about the week.
You see, I finally joined the 21st century and got an iPhone. I hated it at first and felt like a total sellout. I had vowed never to spend money on a cell phone and always took the free phone. My stance wasn't based on me being cheap (well, not 100 percent, anyway) but on principle. I dislike phones heavily, especially the talking part, and used mine as little as possible. I thought the iPhone and other smart phones were completely ridiculous.
My stance on the iPhone changed when I realized it came loaded with Google Maps, the aforementioned waster of hours noted above. This meant, my brain told me, that I would have a map on me while I was riding. It also meant that I wouldn't have to fumble about with a folded map or have to guess my exact location. Hmm...
This new-found appreciation for technology gave me increased confidence to go and get lost. For me, the issue with getting lost on purpose is my lack of a sense of direction. I get lost way too easily, which leads to me losing my temper and getting even more lost, which then leads to me panicking. It's a vicious cycle. Even using GPS didn't prevent me from getting lost.
Now I can get as lost as I dare and have my magic phone bail me out. That is the kind of technology I like.
With magic phone in tow, I made it a point nearly every weekend to get lost. What resulted was a honing of my directional skills and the discovery of some great new roads. I was missing out on some great tarmac because I clung to the few routes I knew, most of which weren't really that good.
I feel like an idiot for raving about a cell phone on a site that's supposed to be about motorcycling. The truth is, though, that it's a pretty handy device for a motorcyclist. I can find good roads on-the-fly, get weather updates and find new destinations. I'm quite enamored with the thing, to be honest, which explains this crap post.
I still don't like talking on the phone, though.
Looking back, I'd say this past riding season was a good one. I didn't go on any long trips, though I planned probably a hundred of them. Dreaming up trips on Google Maps is a great way to kill an hour or so. Anyway, I took a few day trips but nothing major this year.
With that said, I managed to put a record number of miles on the bikes this year. I put about 5,000 combined miles on both bikes (hold your applause, please), which is the most I've ever put on in one season. The reason for this were the weekend jaunts I took to forget about the week.
You see, I finally joined the 21st century and got an iPhone. I hated it at first and felt like a total sellout. I had vowed never to spend money on a cell phone and always took the free phone. My stance wasn't based on me being cheap (well, not 100 percent, anyway) but on principle. I dislike phones heavily, especially the talking part, and used mine as little as possible. I thought the iPhone and other smart phones were completely ridiculous.
My stance on the iPhone changed when I realized it came loaded with Google Maps, the aforementioned waster of hours noted above. This meant, my brain told me, that I would have a map on me while I was riding. It also meant that I wouldn't have to fumble about with a folded map or have to guess my exact location. Hmm...
This new-found appreciation for technology gave me increased confidence to go and get lost. For me, the issue with getting lost on purpose is my lack of a sense of direction. I get lost way too easily, which leads to me losing my temper and getting even more lost, which then leads to me panicking. It's a vicious cycle. Even using GPS didn't prevent me from getting lost.
Now I can get as lost as I dare and have my magic phone bail me out. That is the kind of technology I like.
With magic phone in tow, I made it a point nearly every weekend to get lost. What resulted was a honing of my directional skills and the discovery of some great new roads. I was missing out on some great tarmac because I clung to the few routes I knew, most of which weren't really that good.
I feel like an idiot for raving about a cell phone on a site that's supposed to be about motorcycling. The truth is, though, that it's a pretty handy device for a motorcyclist. I can find good roads on-the-fly, get weather updates and find new destinations. I'm quite enamored with the thing, to be honest, which explains this crap post.
I still don't like talking on the phone, though.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Barber Vintage Festival, Part Deux
One doesn't have to be C. Auguste Dupin to figure out that I like bikes from Moto Guzzi and Ducati.
While I was snapping away pics at Barber, I made sure to photograph nearly every Guzzi or Ducati I came across. While I expected a healthy contingent of Ducatis to be there, I was surprised at the number of Guzzis. Usually there are maybe a handful, if any, Guzzis at all at a bike event. At Barber, there must have been two dozen or more.
So, to add to my previous post, here are some bikes from Moto Guzzi:
And here are some bikes from Ducati:
While I was snapping away pics at Barber, I made sure to photograph nearly every Guzzi or Ducati I came across. While I expected a healthy contingent of Ducatis to be there, I was surprised at the number of Guzzis. Usually there are maybe a handful, if any, Guzzis at all at a bike event. At Barber, there must have been two dozen or more.
So, to add to my previous post, here are some bikes from Moto Guzzi:
And here are some bikes from Ducati:
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Barber Vintage Festival
This past weekend, I headed down to Birmingham, AL to take in the Barber Vintage Festival. I'm just now coming down from the sensory overload.
From the facilities to the bikes to the museum, Barber was a fantastic event. I saw more bikes that I've wanted to ride or own this weekend than I've ever seen in one place. I will definitely be going back and I recommend that you go, too. Everything is top notch and the Southern hospitality can't be beat.
I'm going to break my usual format and skip the long-winded rambling. Instead, I'm going to post some pics I took. Thanks to digital photography, I was able to take a boatload of pictures and not waste any film.
Anyway, here is but a sample:
And, of course, I found Rosie. She could quite possibly be the most famous new Bonneville ever:
On a side note, I'd once again like to thank Mark and Maxine Downing for their hospitality. I enjoyed meeting everyone and I look forward to doing it again.
From the facilities to the bikes to the museum, Barber was a fantastic event. I saw more bikes that I've wanted to ride or own this weekend than I've ever seen in one place. I will definitely be going back and I recommend that you go, too. Everything is top notch and the Southern hospitality can't be beat.
I'm going to break my usual format and skip the long-winded rambling. Instead, I'm going to post some pics I took. Thanks to digital photography, I was able to take a boatload of pictures and not waste any film.
Anyway, here is but a sample:
And, of course, I found Rosie. She could quite possibly be the most famous new Bonneville ever:
On a side note, I'd once again like to thank Mark and Maxine Downing for their hospitality. I enjoyed meeting everyone and I look forward to doing it again.
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