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September 2025

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Extreme smoking

Bert Hopwood (left) getting hands-on on the production line

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Triumph’s Unseen Engines

John on the Reve Kawasaki in World Superbikes at Brands Hatch in 1995. He put it second on the grid and came third in race two

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At lunch with: John Reynolds

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August 2025

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100‚000 not out

Top end looks Triumph-like, but lower engine lacks Meriden curves. Dong Hai were fond of a knobbly tyre

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Sorry, It’s a what…?

Thankfully, Hugo decided not to do this in Rollie Free-style plimsolls and Speedos

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The Workshop: PROJECT BANTAM

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Subscribe to Classic Bike Magazine

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July 2025

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V-four victory

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Great in the States

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Benelli 2C Mk2

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June 2025

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Unlikely TT race bikes

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Nemesis cracks 100mph

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SKY HIGH HILLCLIMBING

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Stately pile-on

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Get up for the Kop

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Time for a T140?

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Rick’s Fixes: cold comfort in the shed

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hole sideways

Did this Curtiss really do over 136.36mph at Ormond Beach, Florida in 1907? Nicksy thinks not...

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A RECORD OF EXAGGERATION

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HOW TO: MAKE A JET BLOCK EXTRACTOR

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BARON’S STROKE OF BAD LUCK

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How To: Make vintage bike grips

HOW TO: RECYCLE OLD CAR PARTS

THE ISLAND’S BIGGEST DRAW

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KEEPING THE FAITH

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HOW TO: FIT AN AMAL CARB TICKLER EXTENSION

HOW TO: REPLACE BSA BEARINGS

Offers and Competitions

Latest Competitions

Latest Offers

Features

Rick's Fixes

Mike Nicks

Magazine

Magazine Issues

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Miller’s marvels

The September issue of Classic Bike features a Honda VFR750F that was restored after 20 years in a garden – it’s a project that only cost the owner £1000! And if you’re looking for a bargain classic yourself, there’s a timely buyer’s guide on the Norton Commando – prices are temptingly low right now.

Elsewhere in the magazine, there’s a whiff of blue smoke with everything from a test ride on a 1965 MZ ES175 to outlandish two-stroke specials including a 500cc V6 Kawasaki, plus a new Yamaha RD200DX project.

Lovers of all things technical have a feast of previously unseen factory drawings by Bert Hopwood to enjoy, showing Triumph engines that could have been game-changers in the ’60s and ’70s but were never made. With all this and the usual workshop tips and techniques, it all adds up to a festival of summer reading – treat yourself!

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We unearthed these ingenious and outlandish two-stroke creations in the _CB_ archives. Any idea where they are now?

Words: **HUGO WILSON** Photography: **BAUER**

> ‘A V6 constructed by the simple expedient of grafting together a pair of KH250 engines’

Long before Allen Millyard started adding cylinders onto Kawasaki triples to make fours and fives, this enterprising gentleman constructed a V6 through the simple expedient of grafting together a pair of KH250 engines. Given that Kawasaki’s smallest-capacity triple has a power output of around 30bhp, doubling that should be enough to give this special a decent amount of oomph. The upper engine appears to have kept its gearbox, but has the cylinders reversed to put the carburettors into the vee. Registered in 1978 as a DRM – the initials of the father and son team who built it – the bike was sold in restored form (with Mick Grant replica paint) by Bonhams in 2011, who stated the much-modified frame started as a Norton Featherbed. Forks are also Norton, while the front brake is a four-leading-shoe Grimeca. The V6 is still on the DVLA database, and registered as a DRM, but apparently was last taxed in 1980. Is it in your garage?

> ‘I took it to the TT one year. We had a lot of fun’

“I wanted to build something that steered like a Yamaha TDR250, but which was really fast,” explains Pat over the phone from his home in Cumbria. “So I bought a crashed Suzuki RG500 road bike for £800 and grafted on TDR forks, wheels and bodywork. The first time I fired it up was the morning of the Barbon hill climb in 1991. I rode it up on the road and then raced it up the hill. It went like holy hell. We won the 750 class and were in the top three overall, then we were fastest overall in 1992 and ’93, but in ’94 the gearbox broke. We were fastest again in 1995.

“The next year it broke a rod and punched a hole in the crankcase before we could race it, so I sold it in the paddock for £1750. I’d more or less decided it would be my last year anyway. It was a fantastic bike. In its final form, with a Stan Stephens tune and Swarbrick pipes, it made 90bhp with a powerband that went from 8000-12,500rpm – and it weighed less than 300lb, ready to race. It was road registered, so I took it to the TT one year. We had a lot of fun.”

So where is it now? “It’s here in the house,” Pat exclaims, clearly delighted. “Five years ago, the bloke I sold it to offered it to me – but it was in pieces. Nostalgia is a dangerous thing in a 50-year-old, so I had to have it back.

“Stan Stephens has rebuilt the engine and it’s now back on its wheels. There’s the plumbing, wiring and bodywork still to do, but it’ll be back at Barbon next year, 30 years after it last raced there. I’ll not be riding it, though – that’d end with broken bones.”

Former racing car designer Tom Killeen’s space-age vision for the future of city transport was an enclosed feet-first and outrigger-equipped device that looks like something out of Dan Dare. The bike (if that’s the correct term) used the air-cooled 247cc two-stroke flat-twin engine from Velocette’s Viceroy scooter and a modified version of its shaft-drive transmission.

The standard scooter made 15 horsepower and did 65mph, though Killeen opted for the more powerful 18bhp version of the engine that was intended for use in small hovercraft. Apparently this creation still exists. Is it loitering at the back of your shed?

During the late ’60s, Spanish manufacturer Ossa developed a 500cc two-stroke twin that was based on two of their 230/244cc singles. This was a joint project with US company Yankee Motors, who envisioned the machine as a dirt bike to cash in on the growing demand in the US market (though fewer than 1000 were made). Back in Barcelona, Fernando and Javier Batlló had an even more audacious idea – they joined together two of the Yankee 500s to create a 960cc two-stroke four and fitted it into a modified Yankee chassis. Apparently the power output started at 80bhp, rising to 118bhp with some development. How much of that power could actually be used on the tight Montjuic circuit that was host to Barcelona’s 24-hour race is moot. It also needed a huge fuel tank to satisfy its sub-15mpg thirst. At the 1972 race the bike crashed out and the following year it retired with mechanical issues. The whereabouts of the original bike are unknown, but a replica does exist.  
**Information from :a[motos.espirituracer.com]{href='https://motos.espirituracer.com' }**

Yamaha and Jawa had built twin-crankshaft V4 two-stroke GP racers in the mid-’60s, so why shouldn’t a DIY engineer make one for the road? The basic ingredients here are a pair of Ariel Arrow engines squeezed into a lightly modified Royal Enfield chassis. It appears that the gearbox of the lower unit has been removed, and the two engines are linked by primary chains running inside a custom-made case. The upper engine has its cylinders reversed to allow the two carbs to fit between the vee. The picture is dated 1971 and identifies the bike as an Avenger 4, but we don’t know who made it. Sadly it is no longer listed on the DVLA database. Do you know more about it?

Unfortunately, the front-on view that we found doesn’t really do justice to the audacity of the Monotrack’s design. That’s a three-cylinder Kohler snowmobile engine (possibly 660cc), with the belt drive from the end of the crank driving a torque converter to provide a variable final-drive ratio, with final drive also by belt. The chassis is a magnesium monocoque and the wheels are specially produced 16in items. Suspension is provided by air-springs with oil damping. The design was produced by Dan Hanebrink in response to a 1971 commission by the publisher of American magazine _Cycle News_. The finished bike appeared two years later. Hanebrink went on to produce a number of BMX and mountain bicycle innovations, but he sadly died in 2018.

This looks like a lightweight vintage bike that has had its original engine swapped for a Puch moped power unit, but mounted with its cylinder vertically. Our own Rick P isn’t so sure. “My guess is that it’s a home-made frame or a modified bicycle. With older bikes, the frames are always much harder to get than engines; so if it was ‘real’, someone would have done better with the engine. The forks are certainly home-made Druid lookalikes with what looks like a washing machine motor pull spring.” We’re guessing the photo is mid-’80s. Does anyone know where it is now?

No, not that one. Adding extra cylinders to two-stroke engines has been popularised in recent years, but the same thing was happening in the 1960s, with Ariel’s 250cc engine being a suitable case for treatment. The first to see the potential were sidecar racer Mick Boddice and chassis guru Ernie Earles, who doubled up the British two-stroke to create a 500cc four that was installed in a sidecar chassis around 1960. This used a central coupling between the engines, making it very wide, and was never made to run effectively.

There were other specials, like this tidy example with one extra cylinder grafted on to create a 375cc triple. The standard Arrow was quoted at 20bhp, so upping the power output to 30 would have added a decent turn of speed. Sadly, we don’t know anything more about this bike or its moustachioed pilot, except that it is currently on SORN. If you know more about it, please get in touch.

Bob Monaghan scooped the _Motor Cycle News_ Special of the Year award at the 1975 BMF Rally with this Wankel-engined home brew. No, not a two-stroke, but still in need of oil with its fuel and certainly lacking valves. The chassis is Honda CB72/77, the engine a Sachs Wankel rotary and the gearbox appears to be AMC. We’d love to know more. Does anyone remember it? Does it still exist? Write and tell us.

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For more than 50 years **Bert Hopwood** was a key player in British bike design. _CB_ gets exclusive access to his documents, letters – and previously secret designs

Words: **MICK DUCKWORTH** Photography: **NATIONAL MOTORCYCLE MUSEUM, HOPWOOD ARCHIVES, BAUER**

Bert Hopwood had a major role in engineering BSA, Norton and Triumph’s most successful classics. So when _CB_ got the chance to see some of his formerly strictly confidential designs and documents, we couldn’t resist.

Hopwood’s career started as a draughtsman at Ariel in 1926, assisting chief designer Edward Turner and following him to Triumph in 1936. He joined Norton as chief designer in 1947, but was sacked two years later and moved to BSA as chief engineer.

He resigned in 1956 to rejoin Norton as a director, until being invited back to Triumph (owned by BSA since 1951) by Turner in 1961. When Hopwood died in 1997, he left a cache of documents, brochures, photos and engineering drawings in his Torquay home, which a relative retrieved. On that relative’s death, his friend Nick Hoad acquired the collection. Last year, he donated the archive to the National Motorcycle Museum, whose director James Hewing gave _CB_ access.

Most of the drawings were produced when Hopwood was chief engineer at Triumph. Three particular plans highlight a family of high-performance dohc engines that never reached production. Dating from 1967, they show proposals for a 125cc single, a 350 triple and a 500 four. According to Hopwood’s book _Whatever Happened to the British Motorcycle Industry?_ (published in 1981) he agreed with managing director Harry Sturgeon on the need for ‘modular’ designs to rationalise production across the BSA and Triumph ranges.

Why didn’t these radical designs get off the drawing board? In 1967, the company had other priorities. Triples supporter Sturgeon died from a brain tumour and the less-focused Lionel Jofeh came in as MD. Triumph’s Meriden factory was at full-speed producing big twins to meet US demand, while BSA’s Small Heath plant was gearing up to make 750cc three-cylinder engines – first proposed by Hopwood in 1963 – for the BSA Rocket 3 and Triumph Trident’s launch in mid-1968.

Although work did not proceed on these designs, Hopwood and his right-hand man Doug Hele held on to their vision for modular products ranging from a 200cc single through twins, triples and fours of escalating size up to a 1250cc V5 flagship. They persevered with the project until offering it to incoming Norton Villiers Triumph rescue management in 1973… when it was brushed aside as too ambitious.

The following gives an in-depth look at the secret-until-now engines, plus insight into what it was like behind the BSA-Triumph factory doors during Hopwood’s time thanks to previously confidential letters and documents.

Pete Colman, boss of BSA Western in California, sent a letter to Triumph MD Lional Jofeh in February 1969 (right). It carried bad news about sales of the firm’s new 750cc triples. Dealers were cancelling orders for the BSA Rocket 3, some believing it’d be impossible to sell against Honda’s four-cylinder CB750 which was due that summer – and likely to cost less. Silencer and fuel tank shapes and colours were disliked, and oil leaks criticised.

Hopwood’s response, kept in the archive with the letter, points out that a 750cc triple could have been produced in 1965. And even more interestingly, Triumph could have been ahead of the game with their own four-cylinder machine had this design from 1967 been pursued.

The biggest engine of Bert’s three dohc designs, it has bore and stroke dimensions of 54 x 50mm to give a 458cc short-stroke inline four with cylinders inclined forward at 30°. It is not clear whether the one-piece crankshaft’s big-end journals are disposed at 90 or 180°. Five main bearings consist in a ball-race at each end, with three plain shells supporting the inner section.

The crankcase is split vertically and laterally through the bearing centres, with insert plates supporting the inner mains. The connecting rods’ cap joints are angled at 45°, allowing nuts on the big-end bolts to be easily accessed during assembly or servicing. Piston crowns are shaped to create squish, and equally-sized inlet and exhaust valves are set at an included angle of 65° – narrower than traditional British engines.

These features bear the mark of Doug Hele, a less conservative engineer than Hopwood. Combined with twin overhead camshafts and a short stroke, they indicate a design aiming for high revs and strong performance, with 65bhp or more in view – more than the standard 740cc Trident and Rocket 3 triples.

> ‘Twin camshafts and a short stroke, with 65bhp or more in view – more than the 740cc Trident’

A wet sump with a nose at the front containing an oil filter houses a gear-type oil pump. A straight-cut gear inboard of the pump drive meshes with a combined half-time gear and sprocket to drive the camshafts by chain. Each camshaft runs in four plain bearings, the lobes opening the valves by depressing sliding pushers, with threaded tappet adjusters. While less easy to adjust, bucket-and-shim tappets commonly used in dohc engines by the 1960s would have been more compact.

Primary drive to the five-speed gearbox is by triplex chain – via a single-plate clutch, as on 750cc triples – with ballraces supporting the mainshaft on either side of the output sprocket.

A Lucas alternator is positioned outboard of the camshaft drive, while at the other end of the crankshaft the drive from an electric starter in front of the crankcase is by chain.

There were some massive rows during Hopwood and Edward Turner’s decades-long relationship. In his book, Bert said he admired ‘ET’ for his inventive genius and flair for design, but thought his grasp of engineering and mathematics was poor. Saved letters evidence acrimony over the development of a 350cc machine needed to counter Japanese products in the US entry-level market.

In a report from a 1966 US visit, BSA chairman Eric Turner (no relation to Edward) suggests a 350cc triple that Hopwood and Doug Hele had on the drawing board would sell well – and envisaged producing up to 50,000 of the bikes per year. Seeing the design, we’re inclined to agree.

This arrangement shows features common with the 500cc four, the same bore and stroke giving 343cc with three in-line cylinders. The big-end journals are likely at 120°, as in the BSA/Triumph 750 triples. The valve angle is narrower than on the four at 55° and the combustion chamber shape different, but valve actuation is the same as the four (and similar to a 1964 drawing of Hele’s proposed 250cc triple, seen in Norman Hyde’s _Winning Ideas_ book). Primary drive is by gears, direct from the crankshaft to a multiplate clutch. It features a five-speed gearbox.

But Eric Turner changed his mind. Rather than a triple, he and BSA’s MD Lionel Jofeh chose a dohc 350cc parallel twin designed outside the main factories by Edward Turner in retirement.

> ‘BSA chairman Eric Turner envisaged producing up to 50,000 per year’

This irked Hopwood, especially when he saw a letter ET wrote to Jofeh in October 1968, warning him to keep Hopwood away from the project. Bert wrote to Jofeh, complaining of the ‘insulting statement and innuendo,’ pointing out that he had refused to have anything to do with the ‘ET 350’ because there was ‘so much fundamentally wrong’. It seems that was true – in a letter Jofeh wrote, he declines to pay Turner an advance of royalties, because a prototype engine had broken on test and further work was clearly needed.

In a long programme coded P30, the twin-cylinder engine was extensively redesigned (including the use of an inverted L-shape of the left-side camshaft drive, as on this drawing for the triple) and got a stronger frame in Reynolds Tube commissioned by Hopwood. Despite this, the resulting BSA Fury and Triumph Bandit models were cancelled on the eve of production in 1971.

If this three-cylinder unit had been prototyped and developed instead, it could have produced considerably more power than the Bandit/Fury’s 34bhp.

> ‘Bert said there was “so much fundamentally wrong” with Turner’s 350’

With a bore and stroke of 54 x 54mm (124cc), this is basically a portion of the triple with the same 55° valve angle and gear primary drive, but with a four-speed gearbox and two-plate clutch.

Its performance potential shows it was intended as more than just a Tiger Cub replacement. No electric starter is deemed necessary and there is a flywheel adjacent to the doubled-up main bearings on the drive side of the crankshaft.

There are other drawings in the intriguing stash other than the modular dohc designs. Among a stack are curious schemes for V-twin engines, probably also from Hopwood’s own pencil. One shows a 50° V-twin with two chain-driven camshafts, while the other has a single camshaft combined with water cooling. Both feature vertical inlet tracts and a deep wet-sump crankcase with output 90° to the crankshaft axis, suggesting shaft drive (or perhaps a non-motorcycle application).

Hopwood’s only known V-configuration designs are the 1000/1250cc V5 versions of his and Hele’s modular range, proposed for the late 1970s.

When Norton Villiers Triumph took over running Triumph after the collapse of BSA in mid-1973, Hopwood’s plans for a new range of modular machines were ditched. He resigned as technical director at Triumph in August 1973, citing ‘fundamental differences of opinion with the present management’.

Letters show his departure did not go smoothly. Concerned at how it should be made public, NVT Chairman Dennis Poore drafted a press release for Hopwood’s approval – but also suggested an alternative, merely stating Bert had retired (he had turned 65 in August). Poore was concerned that the press would ‘seek more details on the disagreement’.

Hopwood insisted on the ‘fundamental differences’ wording and raised the question of a termination payment on top of his company pension. He also referred to an ex-gratia pension payment promised him by former BSA chairman Eric Turner and wanted to know how much it would cost to buy his company car from the leasing company.

In October 1973, when Meriden workers were occupying the factory in response to discovering it would close, Poore asked Hopwood if he’d had any contact with sit-in leader Leslie Huckfield MP and his plan for a workers’ co-operative. He’d heard from press sources that Hopwood was ‘proposing to make a substantial investment to support Mr Huckfield... and going to design a new range of motorcycles for him.’ _CB_ asked Mr Huckfield about this, but he does not recall any such proposal. Letters show Hopwood was still chasing termination payments in March 1974.

The three-time British Superbike champ tells us doing the TT once was enough and reveals the ideal honeymoon location

Words: **John Westlake** Photography: **Reynolds archive, Bauer archive, John Westlake**

Professional racers usually play down the sheer terror they had to overcome to compete at the highest level. Or they blank it out. Or perhaps just don’t like talking about it. But John Reynolds has no such reservations, and actually used the memories to help him retire in peace.

“I’ll always remember qualifying at Brands Hatch,” he says. “To get a fast lap, you had to nail Paddock Hill bend – to do that your braking had to be so late, you genuinely thought you were going to have a massive crash. You had to really scare yourself and I eventually realised that was a very weird way to make a living.”

We’re sitting in John’s back garden and have somehow started at the end of his stellar 34-year racing career, talking about the final season when a huge crash changed his entire mindset. Until then, John was the embodiment of determination; forcing bikes, rivals and his own fears into submission by sheer will. And it worked – he won his first British motocross championship aged 12, took three British Superbike titles, got eight top ten finishes in 500GPs on a privateer bike and won a World Superbike race, again on a privateer bike.

“My determination has always been there,” he says, sipping his tea. “Racing was never a hobby for me – I was always totally focused on trying to win. It’s funny, because I could take defeat in all the other sports I played when I was younger, but not with racing. Then I had to win. The other riders were never my mates when I was racing, because I didn’t want anyone getting inside my head. It was my job, I had no safety net and I had to succeed.”

This burning determination must partly spring from John’s early racing career, when he had to battle just to get to the start line, never mind win. Though his dad was a devoted race fan and spannered for John in his early days, money was tight and it was up to John to provide the motivation. “I did a lot of motocross as a kid – I started aged eight and was British champion by the time I was 12 – but eventually I got disillusioned with it. It was expensive and I wasn’t going anywhere.”

Hang on, didn’t you come third in the European championships, I splutter. “Yeah I did, but I was never going to make a living out of motocross – I was never good enough for GPs and I didn’t have a plan, so I packed it in when I was 18.”

But bikes were still in the foreground. John had bought a Suzuki AP50 at 16, passed his test on a GP100 and went straight out on a Honda CB900 that he’d bought in readiness for the big day. “That was a dream come true, but really I was desperate to go road racing. I just couldn’t afford it – I was a signwriter earning £200 a week and that wasn’t enough.”

Then he and his dad went to a vintage race meeting and John had an idea. His dad had a 1934 Velocette MOV 250 in the garage... “I said to dad: ‘Why don’t we do up the Velo and go vintage racing?’ He was keen, but all hell broke loose because my mother was set against road racing. She’d seen so many top riders die. It was a serious bust-up – she actually left home in protest. But when that didn’t work she came back, and dad and I prepared the bike over the winter of 1986.

“By the time we’d finished with it, it looked great, but it was slow and struggled to get up the hills at Cadwell. I absolutely loved the racing, though. This was it. We raced the Velo three times and I won a few races and got my knee down, then it blew up at Snetterton. But dad saw I had potential and he loaned me the money to buy an RD350LC. I did quite a bit of winning on that.” So much, in fact, that a sponsor loaned him a TZ350 to see what he could do on that. The answer? Win the British ACU 350 Championship.

In 1988 Ray Swann and Roger Hurst were riding GPX600s for Team Green Kawasaki, and when Roger got injured, a well-connected friend from John’s motocross days suggested he got a try-out. “I was petrified, because I knew it was an opportunity that I couldn’t waste. But I finished sixth and a week later Colin \[Wright, Kawasaki team boss\] said he had a 600 TT bike that was sitting around doing nothing and asked if I wanted to race it.

“Obviously I did, and a few races later at Snetterton, Roger and Ray were battling for the lead and I was closing on them. I overtook Roger, then Ray and was leading into the last corner. But Ray got me back, while Roger crashed trying. So I finished second and Roger came third, crossing the finish line sliding on his arse.”

Colin Wright’s father, Alec – legendary Kawasaki race boss and inventor of Team Green – saw the whole scenario play out, and was obviously perturbed that a whippersnapper had very nearly mucked up Kawasaki’s title challenge. “Alec took me behind the garage for ‘a bit of a chat’. I thought I was in for it. He said: ‘That wasn’t in the plan was it? But f\*\*k it, what a good ride.’ In other words: don’t mess about with the factory riders again, but well done anyway. Roger and Ray didn’t say anything, though – they really didn’t like me.”

Not that John cared. The following year – 1989 – Kawasaki signed him up as a full-time rider and he raced everything from the new KR-1 250cc two-stroke to a ZXR750 H1 in British Superbikes and a ZZ-R600 in the Isle of Man. Ian McConnachie beat him to the 250 title, but he had more luck with the ZXR750. “Roger and Ray could never get it to win, but I managed it at Oulton Park in the wet, beating the Nortons. I think that convinced Kawasaki they could get me on a bigger bike.

“The TT ride came about because Roger and Ray were both good over there and I’d always wanted a go. Shelley \[his then girlfriend, now wife\] and I went to the Island in March and I did loads of laps in a car. I pretty much knew where I was going… in a car. The first practice I was on a KR-1 and by the time I got out of Union Mills I was totally lost. It was properly scary.

“Then Hizzy came past me at Barregarrow like I was standing still. His bike bottomed out and he wobbled off in a cloud of fairing dust. I thought there and then that if that’s what you need to do to win a TT, you can stuff it. I wasn’t prepared to do that.”

John was newcomer of the year and did a 110mph lap at that TT, so he wasn’t hanging around. He’s clearly a gent prone to massive understatement these days.

He’s also no idiot. “There were five riders killed that year – Phil Mellor and Steve Henshaw among them. It was tough seeing all those vans left there at the end. That brought it home. You don’t get a second chance at the TT and I knew I was prone to making mistakes.” John never went back.

After a year spent winning the British 600 championship on the new ZZ-R600 – “a massive fast thing, we had to remove almost all the suspension movement, so it was like riding a brick” – Kawasaki finally decided to give John a permanent Superbike ride on the latest ZXR750. “It was great, but we were running Pirelli tyres. I’d do six or seven laps and look like I could win, then the tyres would drop off a cliff and I’d end up going back to sixth or seventh. Colin Wright thought it was my fitness, and at Oulton it came to a head. I said: ‘Put Dunlops on it and see what happens then’.

> ‘We raced my dad’s Velo MOV three times... I won a few races and got my knee down’

“But he called my bluff and fitted Dunlops with Pirelli labels stuck on. Luckily I qualified on pole, won the first race and kept on winning from then on, ending up third in the championship.”

In 1992 the team officially switched to Dunlop, so John was one of the favourites. It wouldn’t be easy, though, as the field was packed with talent: Carl Fogarty, Rob McElnea, James Whitham, Jeremy McWilliams and David Jefferies, to name a few. Still, John beat the lot and won his first BSB title. “That was fantastic, but towards the end of the season Colin \[Wright, the team manager\] said they weren’t sure the team would continue next year and that I should start looking for another job. That was a blow.”

Fortunately, ace dealer and team boss Clive Padgett came up with the solution, offering John a ride in 500cc GPs on a Harris Yamaha. John explains how exciting it was to be heading off to Australia for his first ever 500GP, when his wife Shelley pops out with more tea and a pertinent fact: “That first round at Eastern Creek was our honeymoon – look, there’s a photo of me cleaning a radiator.” And sure enough, among the pile of snaps on the table, there it is.

“You really took your new wife to a GP for your honeymoon and made her work in the pits?” I ask John, marvelling at his radical approach to marital bliss. “Well, I’d just got the ride, so it was the obvious thing to do. Shelley loved it,” he says, grinning.

“It’s true,” says Shelley as she wanders off.

“But I crashed that Harris a lot. A hell of a lot. I kept losing the front. Looking back, having ridden bikes with proper factory suspension since then, there was a problem with the forks. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the experience to work that out.”

John doggedly tried to ride around the problem, but he couldn’t. He got eight top 10 finishes, but was plagued by the Harris front end. “They were hard times. We did another season in 1994, but it didn’t get much better and I knew that was the end of GPs for me.”

Plenty of racers in this position would have struggled. But his mate Ben Atkins decided to start a WSB team for him. “It was really exciting, because back then WSB was massive – all the factories were involved and there was huge interest. We put the bike on the podium a couple of times, but Ben had heard a rumour that Suzuki were setting up a factory team and he suggested they take me on. That’s how I got the factory Suzuki ride.”

John’s team-mate was Kirk McCarthy, the Aussie superbike champion and infamous hell-raiser. “He missed the first test, because he’d been out celebrating winning the Australian Superbike championship and ended up in jail after getting caught drink driving. He made it to the next test a few days early with the rest of us and we decided we’d all go out for a meal and a few beers. After that, some lads – Trevor Nation was there – said they were going to hit the town, but I’d had enough and they dropped me off at the hotel.

“The next morning I came down for breakfast and noticed Kirk wasn’t there. Turns out he’d had a skinful and was driving when Trevor yanked the handbrake to do a handbrake turn right in front of the local cop. Kirk ended up in the slammer for two days. I remember the crew chief getting nervous because he had to phone up Steve Harris \[the team boss\] to tell him Kirk was in prison again.”

Though John was the top Suzuki rider in WSB in 1996, he got wind of rumours that he was being replaced by Frankie Chili and started making plans with Ben Atkins to return to BSB on a Ducati. The pair once again made an excellent team, with John taking his second BSB title in 2001. By then John was 37, but showed no sign of slowing down. He rarely crashed and could be relied upon to pick up podiums – over his entire BSB career, he finished on the podium in over half the races he started.

We’ve finished our sarnies and it’s time I left John in peace, but we haven’t touched on his final BSB title win or that career-ending crash. “The game-changer was the GSX-R1000 K3,” he says. “It was smaller, sharper, lighter and faster – and at the first race of 2003 I was quickest in practice. But I highsided and broke my collarbone on the Superpole lap, so that was the championship gone to Shane Byrne. But the following year I won the championship.”

So, after starting at the end, we’ve come full circle to that crash at Brands Hatch in 2005. “I was bedding in some new gloves in free practice and on the third lap everything was great – the bike felt perfect and I was quick. I came out of Druids on the gas, and shut off to hit the brakes for Graham Hill bend. Except I hadn’t shut the throttle off properly, because the gloves had bunched up and I went onto the grass.” John slammed into the barrier, lying motionless on the grass.

“I remember hearing Toby Branfoot \[the circuit doctor\] say he was going to do something to help me breathe. He stabbed me and put a tube into my lung because it was punctured; once he’d inflated it again, I was fine.” Fine? I seem to remember he was horribly injured. “Well, I’d broken my neck, back, collarbone and four ribs and spent seven weeks in hospital.

“That was it. I decided I was finished with racing. And it was a lovely feeling – all the weight came off my shoulders, all the stress went away. A switch had flipped and I turned into a different person.” One who didn’t want to scare himself half to death for a living? “Exactly. I’d had a long career. I gave it my everything and I had nothing left. I’ve got no regrets.”

Variety is the key in Classic Bike’s August issue. An orange Laverda Jota shines on the cover – it’s not a pampered piece of exotica, but a bike whose owner has enjoyed it for 42 years, putting over 100,000 miles on the clock in the process.

At the other end of the spectrum there’s a rare 1968 Dong Hai 750, made in China but rebuilt in Britain from boxes of bits by an Eastern Bloc bike lover. In between those extremes, there’s a test ride that explores the mystique of the Velocette Venom, a Honda CX500 buyer’s guide and a grin-inducing scrapbook of photos depicting oily characters from old-school bike breakers’ yards.

All this plus an event report from Dragstalgia, recent sports moped prices, magazine project updates and all the usual workshop insight. There’s a bit of something in it for everyone.

#### The August issue of Classic Bike is out now at all good newsagents, or why not :a[subscribe today and enjoy 3 issues for just £5 in our Summer sale!]{href='https://www.greatmagazines.co.uk/classic-bike-magazine?utm_source=classicbike.co.uk&amp;utm_medium=referral&amp;utm_campaign=bau_classicbike&amp;utm_content=newissue_clb' }

Bought on a whim, **Keith Prentice’s** Laverda Jota has been part of his life for 42 years. After 100,000 miles together, it’s a bond that’s too strong to break

Words **GEZ KANE** Photography **GREG MOSS & KEITH PRENTICE**

There are always big numbers involved with Laverda’s imposing three-cylinder superbike. 981cc and over 90bhp. 140mph. 250kg (551lb). But with Keith Prentice and his 1982 Series 2 Jota, the really impressive ones are 42 – the number of years he’s owned the bike – and the figure on the odometer, which reads over 100,000 miles.

What’s perhaps even more remarkable is that, over more than four decades of ownership, the Jota has never been off the road – save for essential maintenance – and it’s never been restored. Up until it chalked up its 40th birthday a couple of years back, it’s always been taxed and MoT’d. Its odometer on the Nippon Denso speedo clicked round to read zero for the second time in the bike’s life just a few weeks back. I guess Keith must like his bike a bit.

“I love it,” he smiles. “Luckily, I’ve never been in a position where I’ve needed to sell it. If anyone asks what it’s worth or what I’d sell it for, I tell them £50,000. I always say I’ll be buried with it. I love riding it, I love the attention it gets when I’m out on it and I still love the look of it. It’s not perfect and it’s not 100% catalogue correct, but it’s how I want it to be.”

Keith’s long-term passion for the Breganze machines has led to him being chairman of the International Laverda Owners Club (ILOC), but he was already a Lav fan when chance brought him and this Jota together back in 1983. “I’d already bought my first

Laverda – a Montjuic – and loved it,” he recalls. “I lived in Dartford and a mate was going over to Moto Vecchia in Colliers Wood to test ride a Morini 31/2, so I went with him. While he was out on the 31/2, I spotted a Jota in the showroom – and cheekily asked if I could have a road test. The salesman’s first response was a fairly blunt ‘No’ – but when I gestured outside at my Monjuic, that soon turned into ‘Certainly sir’. I rode it and that was that. I had to have it. I wasn’t looking for a new bike... honest.”

The Series 2 model Keith bought is considered by many ‘Jotisti’ as the best of the 180˚ crank ‘real’ Jotas. With a hydraulic clutch, the ignition moved to the left-hand end of the crank and a three-phase 210W Nippon Denso alternator, the Series 2 is the ultimate development of the original 180 concept. And what an enduring concept that proved to be. After all that time and all those miles, Keith’s bike still wears its original Jota orange paintwork with just a very few marks of long-term use. The frame has never been refinished, just touched-up as required. It even has the original ‘silencers’ that give the bike its fearsome voice.

The Jota has had a few moments, though. “When I bought the bike, there was a hairline crack in the clutch cover. Apparently, it’s down to poor design that allows clutch fluid to get in behind the piston insert for the hydraulic clutch. It’s the build-up of pressure as the clutch operates which cracks the case. I’m on my third case now, although these days you can get modified cases that solve the problem.

“A couple of years later, it started dropping out of fifth gear under load. With all the confidence of youth, I stripped the engine and gearbox down and discovered worn engagement dogs. A new pinion cured that and, touch wood, it’s been fine since. A couple of years after that – 1987, I think – the centre main bearing needed replacing. The 1979 models with ball-race centre mains were known to be troublesome, but I think my issues were just bad luck. Rebuilding the pressed-up crank was beyond my abilities, so I took it to legendary Laverda specialist Phil Todd at Motodd to sort out.

“After that, I had no real problems until the late 2000s, when the engine started to burn oil. I took the head off and took it to a local engineering firm – who told me they had plenty of experience with Laverdas – to fit new valve guides. Two years later, though, it was just as bad. This time I took the whole engine to Keith Nairn at Laverda Scozia. When he turned the head upside down, two of the valve guides fell out. There was damage to the bores as well, so he supplied new pistons and rebored the barrels to first oversize. The crank was also slightly out of alignment – I’d never noticed any undue vibration – so he sorted that too.”

> ‘I once did 800 miles in a day on it, riding back from the South of France’

All other tinkering has been due to minor issues rather than meaty problems. “I replaced the original Bosch ignition with a Sachse unit years ago – and when the pick-ups on that eventually failed last summer, I fitted an Ignitech system. So far, so good. The front mudguard is an aftermarket item – the originals were very prone to splitting, and mine did. Obviously, the twin-headlight fairing is non-standard too. My bike was originally supplied naked, but I got this one fitted in 1983 at a place called JP Customs, I think. I took the bike for a fitting and they offered up various styles of fairing before I decided on this one. They made a bespoke mounting bracket for it and sorted all the wiring. I think the indicators are from a Datsun Cherry.”

Keith has replaced the original clutch master cylinder with a smaller-bore 13mm Brembo unit (the original is 15mm) to provide a lighter lever action, and replaced the front brake master cylinder to match it. But other than that, his Jota is almost startlingly unchanged from the bike he rode home all those years ago.

The front brake discs are nearing minimum thickness and due to be replaced – hardly surprising, as they’re the originals. So are the calipers. The fork stanchions have never been rechromed, the sliders have never been painted, and the seals have only been replaced once.

The wheels still wear their original factory paint too, with only one set of bearings having been replaced – the rears in 2018. After rotting out, the exhaust collector box has been replaced by a stainless steel Keihan part, but the downpipes are still the originals (rechromed at the end of 2023). Even the seat cover and base are original – Viking Seats replaced the foam in 2014, but carefully refitted the factory cover.

Keith is rightly proud of his Jota, but this doesn’t mean it’s led a cosseted life. Far from it. As is only fitting for the chairman of the owners’ club, he’s put the bike to good use. “I’ve been all over on it,” he says. “When I first had it, it was my everyday transport. When I got married and had a family I didn’t get to use it as much, but I still kept my hand in when I could. Since I packed in work in 2017 though, I’ve been able to get out on it lots more. I used to do the UK National Road Rally, I’ve ridden it at Shelsley Walsh and loads of UK ILOC (:a[iloc.co.uk]{href='https://iloc.co.uk' }) runs and rallies. Being a member of the club has really expanded my enjoyment of all my Laverdas. I ride with the French and Belgian Laverda clubs regularly, too – and once covered 800 miles in day, returning home from an event in the South of France. I got to my planned overnight hotel to find it locked up and in darkness, so just pressed on all the way.”

There was also a curious reaction to Keith’s big, orange Jota. “I was riding through the Kennedy Tunnel near Antwerp in Belgium with a mate on another Laverda,” he recalls. “A car pulled alongside me and the passenger wound down the window and threw a cabbage at me. Maybe it’s some sort of Belgian greeting...”

In all the 100,000 miles Keith and his big triple have been together, only one other person has ever ridden it (apart, perhaps, from a brief mechanic’s test ride after the engine work). “I let a mate called Malcolm Smith – no, not that one – from the local bike club have a quick spin in the early ’80s,” he reveals. But now he’s trusting me to take his baby out near his North Dorset home. “You’re only the second person apart from me to ride it,” he cheerfully reminds me. No pressure then...

Easing through town, that modified clutch is certainly welcome. Keeping the revs low enough to attract only admiring glances rather than disapproving glares, the Jota feels in superb fettle. I’d never guess it was a 100,000-mile veteran. But it’s when I get to the swoops and curves of the A30 that the Jota really shows what a special machine it is. There’s no way this bike feels its age – and that’s testament to both the original design and the care and attention Keith has lavished on it over the last 40 or so years.

Get the engine spinning above 4000rpm and it delivers what you desire and expect of the big triple, as it hurls itself forward on a wave of midrange torque. Get above 6000rpm and there’s another step up as those 4C cams, unrestrictive Jota silencers and 32mm carbs do their thing. There’s no doubt that the Laverda is a big bike, but its bulk melts away as it arcs through flowing bends and despatches the Dorset topography with just a tease of the throttle. And the noise is nothing short of epic. Laverda – with a little help from UK concessionaires the Slater brothers – certainly got it right with the Jota.

Picking faults is pointless. Sure, the twin front discs need a good, hard squeeze to really do their thing, but it’s par for the course on an early ’80s muscle bike. Changing direction swiftly in low-speed corners requires a bit of effort too, but this is all part of the glorious Jota experience – and on fast, sweeping roads the Laverda is in its element. I can see why Keith has enjoyed every moment and why the idea of parting with it has never crossed his mind.

My morning’s ride disappears in a blur. This is a truly great bike, and I feel more than a prick of jealousy as I head back to Keith’s house to reluctantly hand back his pride and joy. Fast, exciting, engaging and compelling – and delivering that delicious, haunting three-cylinder soundtrack – I’ve enjoyed every minute on this bike. And nobody threw a cabbage at me.

#### **SPECIFICATION: 1982 LAVERDA JOTA SERIES 2**

“I really wouldn’t be without this. I bought it on Gumtree about eight years ago and only paid £80 for it. It’s old – from 1984 in fact – and made in Taiwan, but it’s a solid, well-made piece of kit. It’ll take bits up to 5/8 in (about 15mm) so it’ll handle most jobs on a bike. I use it all the time, no more wonky holes for me.”

“Another invaluable tool for working on old bikes. When you need an impact driver, you need it. It’s great for freeing off stubborn fasteners and loosening fork damper rod bolts without them just spinning in the fork bottom. As it’s electric, you don’t need a compressor like you would with an air gun. I think it only cost around £50-60.”

“This is really simple – but so useful. I made it up ages ago. It’s just a 12-volt bulb with a couple of wires attached. I use it to find what’s live and what isn’t as I work through electrical issues methodically and locate where the problem is. I was an electrical engineer by trade, so I suppose I should be good at sorting electrics.”

Looks like a familiar twin, but this is a **Dong Hai 750** – the Chinesebuilt parallel motor with more than a little British influence

Words **MICK DUCKWORTH** Photography **GREG MOSS**

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