October 22, 2012

PROJECT DESERT RAT


The concept; take two Triumphs out to the desert in southern Utah, for a little dirty fun.  I already have a '73 Triumph Adventurer for the trip; my companion Conrad Leach bought a '71 Triumph TR6R on Craigslist, and ended up swapping the engine for a '60s Bonneville lump, with a 750cc kit. Rough but good.

It took a few days to get to the canyonlands of Utah from San Francisco; we stopped in Winnemucca Nevada(after a blast up Donner Pass road), then Springville Utah (to visit Jeff Decker).  Today we made it to the Canyonlands, a unique place on the planet.

My favorite of the chain of National Parks strung between Nevada and Colorado is Capitol Reef, which is probably the least visited of the Zion/Bryce Canyon/Moab/Canyonlands continuum, but perhaps the most accessible if you don't want to be led by the nose to the 'beauty spots'.

We picked a motel in Torrey, the Broken Spur, which has just re-opened.  Nice folks, cheap room ($75 for two beds), mind boggling view of red cliffs banking the horizon in every direction. Best of all, it's only 6 miles to the entrance of the Park, and every mile is stunning.  We spotted a dotted line road on the map (Pleasant Creek), and our motel clerk said it was a really good 4WD road, and that we'd have fun on the bikes.
Too bad there's no attitude gauge on the Triumph; this hill was really steep, but smooth dried mud
Always listen to the locals; this road was 40 miles of challenging stream beds, soft red powder, deep rock-lined gulleys, and steep rocky climbs.  It took all of our motorcycling experience to navigate the treacherous 'road' in many spots, without coming to grief or damaging what are basically two road-going 70's Triumphs.  In short, we had a blast.  I encourage you to simply get out there with your motorcycle, and have some fun, wherever that may be, whether an epic desert exploration, or your favorite route to coffee.  Just ride it.
The first creek fording...
Tomorrow we'll head for Bryce Canyon, then Oatman AZ, then LA, where Conrad will leave his Triumph, and I'll head back to...more travel.
I didn't take photos of the worst bits; my hands were way too busy!
Hwy 12...a truly fine piece of motorcycle highway...
Pleasant Creek Road follows the creek itself for miles...you'll get wet.
Capitol Reef's amazing banded cliffs...and pink powder trails
After climbing a few thousand feet in elevation, we found the Aspens, and knew we were near the highway...

October 15, 2012

CATCHING UP WITH CROCKER

Pd'O in a Wet Plate image; not as suspicious of the new machine as I look
Back in May at the 2012 Quail Motorcycle Gathering, I met Michael Schacht and had a good look at his new Crocker Big Tank, which he'd just completed.  The bike looked and sounded good, and I wrote a piece for Cycle World on its début.  Schacht invited me to test ride the machine next time I was in LA; last week that opportunity arrived, and I met him at the secret Crocker warehouse/assembly shop.  That first, unpainted Crocker sat with an Indian 101 Scout Schacht restored back in his 'Indian days', the prototype Crocker C4 futurismo mockup, and a frame table on which sat the makings of New Crocker #2.  [For a history of Crocker motorcycles, click here]
Cylinder barrel raw castings, with enough meat for variable engine capacity
On the mezzanine level, a wall lined library-like with casting patterns keeps company with racks of rough castings and core boxes; the makings of the next 15 Crockers, which Schacht says he'll build 'whether I have orders or not... I'm going to make them'.  He's invested a huge amount of time and money, and staked his reputation on building real, functional motorcycles.  I only know one other such privateer motorcycle producer - he's making Brough Superiors - and they share a certain passion, a bit of blind faith, a lot of tenacity,  and an inspired vision of what they're contributing to the motorcycle world.  In Schacht's case, that vision would be nothing less than the resurrection of the Crocker marque.
Michael Schacht explains changes to the cylinder wall oiling on his barrel casting pattern
Shacht has become an expert in Crockers, as one must in order to replicate them, and I received an education on the various detail changes Al Crocker incorporated into his eponymous machines.  From 'hemi' head and Small Tank, to the later enclosed rocker, parallel valve Big Tank models.  It's amazing how many changes were made during the short, 1936-42 run of less than 100 machines.  Seeing how much attention Crocker paid to his improvements, and the level of customization he was happy to incorporate into paint jobs and engine spec, it's no wonder Crocker never made money on his Big Twin project.  He designed an incredibly durable, quality machine, with a steel gearbox casting acting as a lower frame lug, cast-aluminum fuel tanks, and heavy-duty everything.
Wet Plate image of the raw-metal prototype...
Al Crocker's could be forgiven if it were a little beastly looking, but as it turned out, the man had styling chops equal to the best.  The Crocker Big Twin is simply a gorgeous motorcycle, on par with any work of George Brough or Edward Turner, although in the American vernacular.  Custom motorcycle builders have tried to capture the tough elegance of his design for over 70 years; the man simply got it right the first time; the sweep of the fenders and tanks, that taillight (copies of which were seen on thousands of Harleys and Triumphs in later days), the big v-twin engine, it all sings together.   It's no surprise they've been coveted and collected since they were new; they're better looking, and better performing, than any other American machine of the day.
Easy to handle, light on the fingertips, well balanced.
That the Crocker was so good when introduced meant trouble from his competition, HD and Indian, the last two American bike builders left standing after the Great Depression.  It was faster and better looking than anything they had to offer, even trumping Harley's first OHV production v-twin, the Model EL 'Knucklehead', by 6 months.  The Crocker in 'base model' form (a mere 61cu.in) was easily 10mph faster than the 'Knuck', and big-engine Crockers simply rocketed away.  Al Crocker offered a money-back guarantee that his machine would outrun any Harley, and no Crocker owner ever collected, as they never needed to.
Michael Schacht warms up the big engine...
Schacht has gone to extremes to build a faithful replica of Al Crocker's machine, and has endured  harsh words from some of the Crocker faithful, whether for his business practices, his fallout with his first partner, or his cheek in buying the Crocker name, and daring to build a bike. Putting all that aside, there's a motorcycle to test, so let's take it on its own merits.
The man and his creation; it works.
Schacht copied collector Chuck Vernon's original Crocker engine dimensions, and this prototype machine clocks in at a whopping 1800cc.  I watched a good friend break his ankle kick-starting such a beast, and chose starter rollers for my test ride (I had a second road test, of the Falcon 'Black', to do next day, after all...).   The big beast started easily, and soon ticked over like a hotrodded twin usually doesn't, although the ground shook a bit with the near-liter explosions inside each jug.  Once warm, and in the saddle, the riding position was surprisingly comfy, with a big leather Meissinger saddle and typically Yank pullback 'bars.  Footboards for feet, foot clutch for gears, big knob lever on the tank side...all typical American stuff, and thank goodness this Crocker didn't have a 'suicide' clutch (ie, springs to engage it when you move your foot) like the last one I rode, during Pebble Beach Week.
In the background is the 'C4' Crocker modern prototype, as seen in the first Legend of the Motorcycle Concours
The clutch was smooth and light, and the gearshift was silent, as I slipped into first, and balanced opening the throttle with easing my foot back to engage the clutch.  With such a massive engine, even low rpms in first mean you're away fast, and the Crocker fairly launched itself forward with a loping, torquey gait.  The engine is smooth and silky, and shockingly powerful; really fast.  I reckon at 60mph in 3rd gear the engine is ticking over at 2400rpm, and at top whack the beast would easily top 110mph.  It seems to breathe well, but I didn't have a chance to really open her up at speed to find the character at higher revs.  I would feel completely safe doing so, as the bike is rock-solid, with completely neutral handling characteristics.  The only letdown is the brakes, which are crap.  Nobody expects much from the front, but the rear wasn't much better, and needs to be fixed - not a big deal, but it should definitely be sorted out before my next, high-speed run on open roads (hint!).

Taken on its own merits, the new Crocker is a gorgeous animal, with impressive performance even by modern standards.  Al Crocker built one hell of a motorcycle, and Michael Schacht has built a faithful re-creation, which is also a hell of a motorcycle.
Sponsors!  Helmet and gloves by Ruby; jeans by Edwin, sunnies by Allyn Scura
Questions of value have yet to be answered; is the public ready to drop $150k for this machine?  I can't make an assessment of whether it's 'worth' that, but if I was horny for a Crocker, the prospect of saving a few hundred grand is certainly appealing.  The upsides; it's all new, you can get parts, and it's half the price of a 1930s Crocker.  The downsides; it will never be as collectible the original machine.  If I had the money to play with, I'd probably try to break this new Crocker by riding it everywhere, hard.  I can't imagine too many bikes which give the visual satisfaction, the name recognition, and the performance offered here; it's a heady mix, and I'm game to try it again.

Many thanks to Michael Schacht for the test ride, an exclusive privilege for The Vintagent...

October 8, 2012

'THE MASTER' AND THE MOTORCYCLE


Joaquin Phoenix as Freddie Quell, riding what looks like a Norton 16H across a dry lake bed
Months ago the New York Times ran a story on Paul Thomas Anderson's latest film (starring Joaquin Phoenix and Philip Seymour Hoffman), 'The Master', a meditation on L Ron Hubbard, founder of the Church of Scientology.  The principal events of the story were carefully based on Hubbard's life, from the borrowed yacht on which he escapes his troubles, to the threats and intimidation used to silence critics, the school set up in England, and...a lust for motorcycles.
L Ron Hubbard aboard a BSA C15 in West Sussex, England, ca 1960
'The Master' is a difficult and beautiful film, with a pair of intense and fascinating characters who seem strangely bound to each other, exploring each man's nature while leaving open the question of their troubled bond.  Gorgeously shot, whether in a landscape, at sea, or in full-frame closeup,  PT Anderson is a renegade from digital film, using extraordinarily expensive 65mm stock, the reward for which is an old-fashioned look you didn't know you missed until you see it.  Cinematography by Mihai Malaimare Jr is achingly lush; he brings Dorothea Lange's dustbowl photographs to full-color motion in Salinas cabbage fields and in farmworker housing; when the camera's gaze rests for long periods on Joaquin Phoenix's face (playing Freddie Quell, ne'er do well), it revives the mesmerizing glamour of 50s Cinemascope close-ups.
Philip Seymour Hoffman as Lancaster Dodd, riding hard over the dry mud pan
In tackling the notoriously litigious Scientology founder's story, Anderson has, of course, used no 'real' names, but the parallels are abundantly clear to anyone who's swallowed the church's teachings, or read the numerous debunking websites highlighting the chasm between Hubbard's extravagantly self-promoting fantasies, and the truth of his back story.  'The Master' lands an axe into that chasm, and splits Hubbard in two; Freddie Quell, nearly an animal in his passions, a creature of id in his lusts, his alcoholism, his pain.  Freddie is the nobody seaman 'Elron' was in reality during WW2, while Lancaster Dodd (the brilliant Philip Seymour Hoffman), on whose yacht Freddie stows away at a dark moment, is the charismatic charlatan, spinning tales of 'trillions of years' with megalomaniac drama, creating 'the Cause' and its pseudo-scientific techniques for 'making you better', mostly by Dodd's 'making it up as he goes along', according to his son (who in real life was excommunicated from Scientology for being gay).
L Ron Hubbard uses his e-meter on a tomato
The two halves of Hubbard meet in a Venn diagram of common masculinity; drunkenness, lust, and violence.  Each man does his best to deny his basest motivations (Quell with lies, Dodd with spiritual/sci-fi hokum), but as Dodd's darkness is revealed in harsh bursts, the film finds the common ground of the two characters, halves of the same man who have forgotten themselves.  Dodd is fascinated with Quell, and vexed with 'Where have we met before?', never comprehending Freddie is his shadow, but attempting to control him as 'guinea pig and protegé'.  But the Shadow is uncontrollable, and in a pivotal scene involving, finally, a motorcycle, we see Freddie escape to face his own demons and truths, while Dodd finds the financial hookup he needs to create an unquestioning empire, with his Lady Macbeth (a ferocious Amy Adams) at his side.
Joaquin Phoenix and the 'Norton'
The dry lakebed scene with Quell and Dodd and a Norton 16H lookalike (apparently a BSA M20 with a Norton tank and fake check-springs on the forks!) is equal parts thrilling, dangerous, and liberating, stunningly shot with both Philip Seymour Hoffman and Joaquin Phoenix actually riding the bumpy and alligatored dry mudflat at a fast clip, the old Norton bouncing and clattering, the actors up on the pegs and giving it some stick, genuinely exhilarated.  The scene references Rollie Free's 1940s Bonneville runs, with a small entourage in perfect period gear and support car. Hoffman as Dodd is real rider, but a genteel fellow out for a moment of controlled thrill, needing the context of a 'process' to justify cutting loose on a bike, while Phoenix's Freddie at last looks natural and at ease and completely appropriate in cuffed jeans and boots.  Previously a shambling, nearly hunchback mumbler, he kicks the beast to life with skill, circling on the mud pan and accelerating over the dirt, until he's going 'really fast', by which point Dodd realizes he's lost the man, who has found himself, and freedom.
Saint Hill Manor in West Sussex, near East Grinstead, the Church's UK headquarters
In real life, 'Elron' indeed liked motorcycles, although I've only dredged up one evidentiary photo, from his days in Sussex, where he famously gave Scientology its first fixed address in an old school.  As part of his civic-minded participation local culture, Elron rode a BSA C15 in a sheriff costume (he was often photographed in Western gear) in a Sussex parade.  A few of Hubbard's excoriating biographers mention a Harley or two during the 1950s...but after digging through the the Church's muck online after that first NYT article, its a rabbit hole I'm happy to stay clear of.
L Ron Hubbard in his 'sheriff' costume...
The bike?  Somehow, the film's prop master (Justin at Glory - he seems to have all the moto-film-fun these days) made a BSA M20 look like a Norton 16H, making that still-humble machine look sleek, cool, and dangerous...no small feat!  For those who can't stomach an extended ramble into one man's darkness, I reckon 'that scene' will appear on Youtube sooner or later...

October 3, 2012

CALIFORNIA DREAMING

The '73 Triumph TR5T Trophy Trail purchased at the Bonhams Las Vegas auction last January...overlooking Bolinas Lagoon and Stinson Beach.
San Francisco doesn't fit the image of California, mostly because it's always cold in the summer.  Then again, it doesn't get cold in winter; it averages 57 degrees all year long, excepting a few days in the Fall, when a window of perfection opens up.  I happened to be in SF for one of those wonderfully odd, only in Cali kinda days.
Across the Golden Gate Bridge by Triumph
I've always lived in cities (SF, NY, Paris, London), but riding a motorcycle in the countryside is my release, which requires an hour's escape from the city limits on two wheels, battling the cages and creeps, one of whom will threaten to kill you, guaranteed, when you ease past those stuck on a slow-motion 'freeway'.
The Redwoods make for compelling and twisty riding, in deep shade...
San Francisco has become stupidly expensive in rents and real estate with the recent influx of well-paid techies from Zynga and Google, so don't get any big ideas about moving there.  I'm lucky enough to have basically grown up in SF, and enjoyed 25 years of local roads, which are unparalleled.  15 minutes from downtown, you'll cross the magnificent Golden Gate Bridge, which is a thrill every time; 10 minutes further up the road is an enormous swath of the state with very little development (some by gov't decree) which runs from the Bridge northward to the Cali border, meaning there's little traffic or population density (or gas stations), so hours and days of round-road riding is possible.
All Ruby'd up; Conrad is wearing his Ruby 'Lucky13' helmet, which he and Jérome Coste designed
If you have the freedom from work, a mid-week ride with a buddy in fine weather is just about the best thing cooking.  My pal Conrad Leach is in town, so we pulled my two Triumphs from the warehouse (the '73 TR5T purchased at the Bonhams auction last Jan, and the '65 Bonneville picked up en route to the Quail Ride, then hammered around Laguna Seca).  Susan McLaughlin came along to take photos; these are all hers.
Thanks for shooting, Susan!
After the ride, a Craigslist find; Bruce at Hobo Customs, my neighbor at Motopia (our industrial park), alerted us to a '71 Triumph TR6R for £1k, in the mountains near Sonora [don't let anyone tell you classic bikes are all too expensive; we found three 1960s/70s Triumphs and BSAs for under $2500 in a one-hour Craigslist search].  As Con wanted his own bike for an upcoming desert trip (to be featured soon in The Vintagent), we drove 2.5 hrs to meet Jeff Epps, and buy his serviceable Triumph.  I had my wet plate kit in the Sprinter, so captured it all the old-fashioned way...  and we've named it Project Desert Rat (Con's grandfather served in the 8th army under Montgomery... apropos!).  More on Desert Rat, and the TR6R, later...
At the edge of the world...1000' of cliffs and rolling hills down the Pacific
The Ridge Road on Mt Tamalpais in Marin County; no cars at all
Jeff Epps and his fantastic Ford flatbed
Conrad and Jeff seal the deal on the Desert Rat Triumph

Jeff and his 'new' truck...

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