Norton and Honda 4 cylinders motorcycle engines

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Last week we received a photo taken at George 'Norton' Cohens workshop showing his latest restoration, the 100th Manx Norton Special with Daytona engine. Upon closer inspection of the photo I detected an intruder of Japanese origin, what could this mean?

Has george had an alarming and sudden change of heart?




Here's George Answer:


For the past 35 years I have messed around with single cylinder Norton machines in side-valve, over-head valve and single and double over-head cam configuration. I have rebuilt, repaired and wrecked hundreds of them; all in the quest for more power and reliability. I have also read with interest over the same period of time numerous articles pertaining to the experimental 4 cylinder engine of the early fifties. Up until very recently, I had always lamented the fact that this engine was never seen fighting the multi-cylinder machines from MV, Gillera and Honda. That was until a few months ago, but first a pre-amble to my story.
Manx Nortons dominated motorcycle racing before and after the second world war, but by 1950 the Italian 4 cylinder engines were becoming a considerable threat to the trusty single cylinder unit.
“Tony” Vandervell, who was part of the works Norton Isle of Man TT racing team in the early twenties (along side Murray Walker’s father, Graham), was Nortons major shareholder after WW II and he also had a great passion for racing cars. He was one of the major financial backers of BRM and commissioned them to develop a watercooled double over head cam four cylinder, 500cc engine for Norton in 1951. Numerous problems relating to engineering design failures, personality clashes and finally financial cut backs meant that the project failed, for three main reasons.
Firstly, BRM failed to take into consideration the need to mount the engine in a motorcycle frame and the development was brought back to the experimental department at Bracebridge St, Birmingham. Here, Leo Kuzmicki, who was a former Polish fighter pilot, was found to be sweeping the floor far too slowly for the likes of the head of the department, a fiery Irishman and tuning maestro, Joe Craig. After a good telling off, Craig was told that this floor sweeper was a senior lecture on internal combustion engines at Warsaw University before the war. Soon, Kuzmicki was put into the drawing office where his genius on cam profiles, combustion chamber shapes, valve timing and porting soon paid dividends on the Manx engine, especially the 350 cc version. He also started work on the 4 cylinder engine.
Secondly, Vandervell fell out with Raymond Mays at BRM and subsequently continued to develop his Thinwall specials, named after his very successful closed caged ‘Thin-wall’ bearings business.
Thirdly, as a consequence of Nortons financial difficulties they were bought by Associated Motorcycles (AMC) in 1953. The financial backers at AMC were appalled at how such a large slice of the cake was being put into the racing machines to the detriment of developing better machines for the road. They pulled the plug on the racing department. No more works team, no more works machines and finally no more Leo Kuzmicki, who was given a much larger wage packet by Vandervell at his new venture the Vanwall Specials. It is ironic that the 2 litre Vanwall engine was essentially four 500 cc Manx Norton engines on a common crankcase.
So Norton did try with a multi cylinder machine and the prototype engine and drawings can be seen at Sammy Miller’s museum, but I am now bloody glad that it never materialized.
Why the change of mind, you may ask?
Last summer a conversation with my 23 year old daughter, Camilla, went along the lines of:
“Dad, my bike has not got lights and sometimes it wont start”.
“That ‘s about par for a thirties 350 Norton International, live with it”.
“I’ve seen a 1972 Honda 500 4 on ebay, its got lights and an electric start”
“Oh no!”
Too cut a long story short, a week later we had this motorcycle in the shed. Camilla rode it for 900 miles over the next few months and I even had a ride down to the seaside on it. Not as fast as a 500 International and a lot heavier, but at least it started every time and you could stay late at the pub, because of the reliable lighting system.
So far so good, but the next week the oil pressure light remained on and to my untrained ear the engine sounded like the proverbial bag of nails. So we bought a Haynes manual, a set of metric spanners and a good bottle of wine and proceeded to pull the thing apart. A hundred hours later, struggling with thousands of cross head 6 mm bolts, primary thrunging sprockets, bizarre gear change mechanisms, tiny little gudgeon pin circlips which were flying around the shed as we snapped at them with tweezers and a manual which even the most intelligent of grease monkeys could not follow we had the bloody engine down to its bare bones.
I could not find a fault anywhere! All journals, shafts and ‘wot-nots, miked’ up to the manufacturers specification. Another million hours later we managed to get it all back together and squeezed it back into the frame. According to my research on Google and at the local Bike Club, it is apparently almost impossible to get the four carbs onto the inlet manifold rubbers and air box at the same time without resorting to a combination of wooden wedges, big hammers and plenty of Vaseline. To my surprise, my daughter and I managed to do this within the hour and eventually the heavy machine was taken out of the shed and replenished with fresh oil. It worked perfectly, the oil light went off and the engine sounded sweet.
So far this Honda engine has consumed the time it would take me to build a trillion Manx Norton engines and we never did find out the problem. Perhaps it was just a faulty switch, which would have taken just a few hours to replace, instead of weeks of work.
So the moral of this story ends with the thought: Would I have been able to spanner a four cylinder Norton engine?
Perhaps with practice I might have of got the hang of it, but I am mighty pleased that a Manx Norton engine has only got one piston, two valves and Whitworth nuts and bolts.

Dr. “Norton George” Cohen, Ilminster, Somerset.


Read also Georges Favorites Five

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Atlas Rider is Heading to South America

 

Atlas Rider is Heading to South America

A fellow Blogger and Rider, Bill Dwyer from Atlas Rider, is preparing to head out on a trek by motorcycle through and around South America. Bill will be video-documenting his trip on YouTube. All the details can be found below in Bills official press release:


Contact: Bill Dwyer
Tel: 708-280-9115
Email: dwyer.bill@gmail.com
Website: http://www.atlasrider.com/


TRAVELING OFF THE GRID, ON YOUTUBE

A motorcycle journey through Latin America documented on YouTube

On August 15th Bill Dwyer sets off for an eight month trip that takes him from America to Argentina, spanning over 20 countries and 25,000 miles. Without a cellphone, and infrequent internet access he will no longer always be "connected" or "on the grid." He travels alone, but brings along a virtual audience for the ride through documenting his journey on YouTube.

As a software developer, Bill grew weary of his corporate job. He sold most of his belongings and traded his cubical for the open road. Food, gas and shelter will be his only concerns. No more timelines to follow or deadlines to meet, only serendipity creates the destiny of his road map.

Perceptions of Mexico and Latin American countries as a seething breeding ground of violence have been widespread. Bill believes that people and the world around us are not as dangerous as we sometimes are lead to believe. The success of his journey should prove to be a reminder that among a seemingly hostile world there is still some good out there.

Bill is an avid adventure motorcyclist and blogger for 3 years. He has built up an audience from all walks of life and continues to entertain, educate and inspire them to take the plunge and seek out adventures of their own.


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Here is the link where Bill made his blog announcement: http://www.atlasrider.com/?p=1234

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If you would like more information about Bill Dwyer's journey you can visit http://www.atlasrider.com/, or to schedule an interview with him, he can be contacted at 708-280-9115 or by email at dwyer.bill@gmail.com.

So, go visit Atlas Rider and get signed up to follow along on his journey. Bill is on all the social medias so hook up with him and tell him Torch sent ya!

Ride on,
Torch

Lost the Old Bag at Highway Speed!

No, not the wife, but I got your attention didn’t I?

This embarrassing story actually started about five months ago. I had stopped for breakfast with a coworker on my commute to work one Saturday morning at the local Waffle House. I had just backed the bike into a parking space, removed my helmet, and started walking towards the Waffle House entrance when I glanced back at my Mistress, that’s what I call my bike, and saw the left Custom Classic Hard Leather Saddle Bag was off its rear bracket stud and was leaning down.

I had removed the bags only one time before to give the bike a good cleaning and commuted without them just that once. I rode it only partly “topless” because I had left the Memphis Shades windshield on. I have as yet never removed both bags and shield to ride her convertible style, top down.

I put it back on after eating breakfast and then rode to work and home afterwards. I looked at it again at home and the locking cam did feel like it was binding or just not closing all the way. So I emptied the bag and removed it and lubricated the mechanism with some WD40 and reinstalled the bag. I thought is felt secure, but was too lazy to take the locking bracket off the bag itself to get a better view.

Now, fast forward to a week ago, commuting back and forth to work every day as usual. I was on my homeward bound commute on a Friday in the usual D/FW rush hour traffic, wearing full leathers, impatiently weaving in and out of bog downs but mostly staying in the “fast lane”. I exited 183 Airport Freeway onto 121 north picking up velocity to normal highway cruising speed. I took my normal exit, Cheek-Sparger Rd. as usual and down shifted one time to start engine braking.

That’s when it happened. I rode over a small seam crack in the road and I heard a clunk from the left rear of my bike. I glanced back just in time to catch out of the corner of my eye the saddlebag hitting the ground and take off tumbling down the side of the road. Checking my mirror I see it go cart wheeling off the left shoulder of the exit lane and into the median grass on the side of the freeway. I merged with the access road and exited in the first parking lot.

As I park the bike I see a white pickup pulling over onto the shoulder with its hazard flashers turned on. I get off the bike and remove my helmet and start walking back up the access road. I see the driver get out of the truck and go get the saddlebag. He put it in his truck and started back down the access road in my direction. He sees me walking back up the access road and signals me he will pull into the parking lot where my bike is parked.

The Good Samaritan pulled in behind my bike and gave me back the prodigal saddlebag. I thanked him and asked if I could pay him for his extra effort. He declined and offered some bungee chords but I had a bungee net in the saddlebag. I strapped the bag to my pillion seat and thanked him again as he left.

That Saturday I took it completely apart removing the bracket from the bag. The bag itself was not damaged too badly. The hard plastic backing plate was cracked on one corner, it was scrapped and scuffed up and some of the stitching had come loose on the lid. Considering what it had been through it came out well. I managed to get the bracket lock to unbind so that it would fully lock the bracket in place. I remounted the bag on the bike and made sure it was secured properly. Then I reinstalled the contents I usually carry back inside.

This was a good luck bad luck story. It was bad luck that the Saddlebag came completely off the bike while riding, and it is not easy to get off the bike when you are purposely trying to remove it. Good luck that it did not happen while I was in the middle of traffic or the fast lane of the freeway. I believe my Guardian Angel was looking out for me again and I shudder to think of what could have happened…..

Ride on,
Torch

Song of the Rolling Sirens

Song of the Rolling Sirens

It was a dark spring morning and a blanket of ominous clouds hovered low in the sky making the air thick with humidity. I started the V-Star and her 1063 cc’s of v-twin power roared to life as I hit the garage door opener button to close the garage. It was 6:00 am and I was hoping my neighbors did not hate me and my Cobra exhaust as I turned out of the driveway and started on my commute to work.

Passing the local Waffle house on my way to the freeway the odors of waffles, eggs, sausage, and bacon, beckoned me to stop and eat. I sighed at what was not to be as I approached the light downshifting twice to turn onto the access road to get on the on-ramp to the two lane freeway. Three quarters of the way up the on-ramp my left turn signal was on as I shifted into third. I have decided that this was the most fun part of any ride, the acceleration to get up to speed, after all, there are no laws that limit how fast you can get up to the speed limit.

In no time I’m at the end of this stretch of highway as it makes a graceful right hand turn and merges with another section this time three lanes wide. Tending to run faster than the other traffic I again apply my left turn signal and change lanes twice double checking the lane next to me each time before changing lanes. In the fast lane I pulled in right behind another motorcyclist traveling slightly faster than me possibly on a Harley-Davidson by the sound of the engine.

I sped up a little to keep up with the other motorcyclist. Traffic is usually not too bad this time of the morning as long as you do not get stuck behind a row of vehicles all traveling the same speed so that you cannot get by in the fast lane. Some people will just not change lanes even though slower traffic is supposed keep right. Just about then is when I started to hear the Song.

An eighteen wheeler was in the middle lane and I was passing on the left tracking in the left hand side of my lane. As I drew closer the sound of their Song got louder. I glanced at all those wheels, each one almost half as tall as me. These Sirens are calling to me, luring me to look at them. I try to look away. Mistress, my bike, says, “Watch where we are going.” We were approaching a left hand curve on the highway.

I move lane position to the right side of my lane in preparation of the curve doing the outside, inside, outside track thing like I don’t really know how tight the curve is. This places me right next to the leviathans’ rear trailer wheels. I glance over and the Sirens Song is sweeter, louder, calling me closer as I strain to look away. “Look away, don’t stare at the beast,” I say to myself, probably out loud.

I’m slightly behind the rigs two sets of double tires now and nearing the apex of the curve. The muscles in my legs and arms tighten up and get stiff as the sirens voices start screaming louder at me as I fight to avert my eyes and turn my bike away from our deadly track. All I need to do is pull back slightly on the right handlebar and Mistress will respond leaning left and turning left out of that outer track but I find myself fighting the Sirens hypnotic Song. The Sirens Song is a screaming crescendo now pulling at Mistress and trying to make us crash against the mighty Leviathan.

My pulse has quickened and my breathing has almost stopped as I try to force her to turn left fighting against the handle bars that feel like hard taffy. She does not respond to manhandling and awaits the gentle counter steer command. The bike is at the apex of the curve now and we are sliding slowly closer into the mouth of the deadly Leviathan.

We are being drawn in, pulled by the voices of the alluring Sirens. Then, Mistress’s soothingly soft sultry voice cut through the panic brought about by the Song of the Sirens telling me, “Look away from the beast and look to where you want to go.” This was said not as an order, but in a matter of fact, common sense kind of way.

Nodding in agreement I hear her and obeyed, ignoring the Sirens command I forced my eyes to look away and into the far left track of the lane I’m traveling in. I relax my arms and gently push the left handle bar forward while pulling slightly back on the right. Mistress responds with a purr and immediately leaned left and headed into the left track out of the deadly path of the stampeding Leviathan. I blocked out the compelling Song of the Sirens and speed by the eighteen wheeled monster right as the corner ends.

Breathing once again my pulse starts to slow as I take the exit to get to work. Once at work and calmed down, I had time to reflect on what had just transpired on my normal boring commute. Call it what you want, Target Fixation or the Song of the Siren, your bike will go, maybe subconsciously, where you look. Is Target Fixation just an excuse, a Myth, or an Urban Legend? Having first hand battled it and won, I think not. So, glance at obstacles just long enough to recognize them for what they are and then look back where you want to go. If you don’t, you may succumb to the call of the Sirens, and smash into the very obstacle you are staring at, and trying desperately to avoid.

Ride on,
Torch