The café racer has long been a popular genre in the motorcycling universe, and remains a sought-after look and style among today’s “modern classic” offerings by so many brands. Editor Rob even owns an example of one in the form of his 2017 Triumph Bonneville Street Cup. So we decided to take a short dive into the origins of the café racer, to discern its lasting appeal to motorcyclists the world over.
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Triumph offered us a few weeks with a brand new 3R Black limited edition, and my response was, “Oh, absolutely! Phil will love this, being a much larger human than me,” as I just figured he’d be the primary “wrist” during our ride and review of the behemoth bike. I picked the bike up from Brian, Triumph’s go-to guy for prepping new machines for press reviews, to trailer it back across the insane maelstrom that is Atlanta traffic to my domicile in northeast Georgia. While strapping up the bike on my hauler, Brian quipped, “Rob, you really need to ride this bike yourself, not just Phil. Trust me, you won’t be intimidated by it.” He informed me that while the new Rockets have received a significant bump in displacement, from about 2300cc to 2500cc, they’ve lost over 100 lbs, from 797 lbs to about 668 lbs, full fluids. “They carry their weight low,” Brian observed, “are quite maneuverable and easy to handle at slow speeds. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised at how much you’ll enjoy it too.”
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Deposited like an ambulance delivering two terminally ill patients, a pair of ancient Honda Trial 90s were dropped off in front of my house silently; no fanfare, no excitement, no hurry or joy, unloaded quietly, then slowly rolled into my garage, their future operating room. Last licensed and running when President Clinton was entangled with Monica Lewinsky they languished outside for dozens of years worth of northwest sub-zero temps and triple digit heat. Decrepit and decaying, my job was to get them running. I promised their owner I could. I opened my mouth again.
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Joining our squad of swift, veteran riders was my 16-year old son Matt, who earned his driver’s license and motorcycle endorsement simultaneously little more than a month before. A motorcycle I nicknamed the Zombie Ninja was his mount, a Kawasaki Ninja 500R that absorbed parts and money like a giant, sucking black hole of bottomless misery until it roared to life just days before departure. Before us lay the 30 miles of Canada’s 31A, technical tarmac where beauty reigns, crashes are frequent and speed is a punishable commodity.
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Italian women are often portrayed in pop culture as sophisticated, sensuous, and svelte. They are also frequently portrayed as hot-headed and mercurial, quick to slap the crap out of you should you press your luck. And yet who among us guys, at some point in our lives weren’t gobsmacked at some Italian beauty we beheld, on screen or in print? We desired her, dreamed of her, even if we knew we might never have her.
Such is often our reaction to the sleek Italian motorcycle brands, and their exotic models. Beautiful yet volatile, alluring yet threatening, they beckon us to take them for a ride, dare us really, and yet are more than prepared to smack us down should we misbehave with them.
Standing at my workbench beneath the glow of my shop lights I washed the lingering taste of stale taco out of my mouth with another pull of moonshine from the mason jar, a solitary thought ricocheting around my head like the last, lonely ball on a pool table. As I fumbled for the drill that sole thought was that what I was about to do was wrong, way wrong, so wrong that it could either be the best thing I had ever done, or the worst.
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Iconic brands such as Triumph, Indian, Jawa, Norton and Ariel have returned to the road, some after absences lasting longer than the company was in business. The comebacks are usually the effort of sources unrelated to the original company, buying the trademark from whomever has some claim on the brand lineage. Most recently, BSA plans a comeback focused on electric bikes, although reports indicate it may begin production with conventional fossil fuel-powered units. Anytime an old brand somehow rambles back to market, an angel gets his wings, or a biker gets his leathers, or whatever. In any event, there is joy and jubilation in bikerland.
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As exciting as a track day is, especially when one is riding a new track like Sonoma Raceway, I knew our West Coast racing adventure had just begun. To have a successful weekend we needed to do two essential ingredients- preparation and relaxation. Those two tend to go hand in hand in my experience as the more prepared you are, the more relaxed you’ll be when the racing starts.
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If you want a land to get into your soul, ask it to dance. Roam through its curves, flirt with its scenery, stop and stare at its unfolding landscape and it will talk to you, revealing itself like an intimate dance partner. Ask the landscape questions and it will whisper the answers in your ear, embedding it into your memory forever. As a northwest native, I never thought I could feel that way about Fall in the Appalachians.
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