CATHERINE, PARIS, NORTON

Catherine, who prefers her privacy, started riding in the heady year of 1969.  She always liked motorcycles, and had a boyfriend who rode one of the first Honda CB 750s, but "he scared me, as a passenger, by going too fast.  I decided to get my own bike.  That way, I could control things." Her first choice, a Yamaha DT1 Enduro 250cc, was a bear to kickstart, even for two-stroke, but she kept it for a year...not bothering with a driver's license!

By 1971 she decided a Norton Commando 750 (above, wearing its usual chrome tank) was the bike for her, which led to a string of Commandos, ending with an 850cc Interstate electric-start, which lacked the svelte grace of the previous Roadster models and didn't stay long.  She kept that first Norton for 39 years; it endured a string of other bikes as garage-mates, including a Dresda-framed Suzuki racer (a twin-cylinder two-stroke, weighing all of 110kg), and a lot of Hondas.  The very first Gold Wing in France was hers (the importer was a friend), but Catherine found it horrible..."it was a big shit, and I sold it in 3 weeks. It always felt like it was falling over in corners, and simply wasn't fun...I preferred sporty bikes, and at the time I wanted the biggest bike of all...very American!" she laughs.  By contrast, she also had the very first Honda Dax in France, with a floral seat.

In the early 70s, many of her friends rode Harleys, but she chose a Norton. "Everybody had a Harley Davidson; it was popular to say 'I have a Harley', but my friends who owned them weren't really fond of motorcycles...they just wanted to say they had one.  They didn't ride very well, it was all for show.  
I was working for La Moto magazine in Paris, as a test rider for bikes.  I was also asked to model for a lot of ads which needed a woman on a bike.  Once, I was approached for a commercial for 'Genie' soft drinks, which was filming in that part of Spain they use for Western movies.  They needed a woman who could ride an Enduro bike, so I got the call.  It happened that Giacomo Agostini was also used for the film, so I was able to interview him at the same time.  The article was published in La Moto.  I rode with a gang who were friends with some famous people, so we were pretty visible around Paris."

Her distinctive leathers were made by Parisian Albert Hirsch, whose company 'Dada Cuirs' (Dada Leathers) made some of the finest racing and riding outfits in the world, kitting all the French GP stars from 1971-84; Bernard Fau, Jean-Claude Chemarin, Charles Krajka, and most notably, his friend Michel Rougerie, wearing Dada leathers in the fantastic film Le Cheval de Fer (check out this youtube teaser - if you haven't seen it, buy it!).  Hirsch earned his scissors at fashion houses Lanvin and Hermés, and the quality of Catherine's leathers is clear - they are still in excellent shape nearly 40 years later.

Hirsch made her two sets of one-piece leathers, one in black, the other red, with the black meant to be tucked into boots, and the red with bell-bottoms - the height of fashion.  He made the custom 'flaming Norton' logo for her chest, and Catherine's personal logo, the panther, for the back.

Catherine "considered having the panther tattooed on my arm, but walking into the parlor and seeing the tattoo artist and a very stoned customer turned me off completely, and I walked out.  Now I'm glad I didn't do it."  While she included her leathers with the Norton when sold earlier this year (they don't fit anymore!), she kept a fur-lined riding jacket; "I had Dada make the fur collar really tall so it would cover my nose while riding and keep my face warm."

Regarding the Norton...it was difficult for her to sell such a long-time friend, but she "finally found someone I felt would take good care of it" in Paris, along with her leathers... although she's keeping the beautiful hand-painted tank which adorns it for these photographs.  It's a spare, which she gave to a group of artist and musician friends in '71 to paint as they chose, and she loved the result.  A treasured possession, she declines to publicize who did the work, as the artist didn't sign it, and she doesn't want to be bothered by 'trophy hunters'.

What I can say about this tank, painted in an era of 'heightened consciousness' in Paris...it is simply sublime, one of the finest custom paint jobs on a motorcycle tank I've ever seen, very sweet in a depiction of youthful, virginal innocence, the Springtime of life.  Alas, that image was stark contrast to the reality of the time, when so many of Catherine's friends "used Everything", while she preferred the high of riding a powerful motorcycle.  Sadly, the painter died soon after the tank was finished, a victim of his own indulgence, but Catherine keeps the tank, and her memories, close at hand.

'HOW YOU FIND THEM' MANX FOR SALE

A 'barn find' 1956 Norton Manx 30M, featured on The Vintagent two years ago, will appear at the Bonhams Petersen Museum auction on November 13, 2010.  This machine was catnip to me when a friend forwarded the photos - a full-blown racer on the road! - but queries about a sale were rebuffed.  Now it appears the owner has changed course, and the story revealed behind the machine and its modifications for the road make it all the more desirable.

The text of the Bonhams catalog bears repeating, as its charmingly written:

"The argument over best-loved automotive writer of all time would last far into the night, but among the finalists has to be Henry Manney III. No finer wordsmith ever grasped a steering wheel or set of handlebars. For decades his pieces were required reading in Road & Track magazine, especially his "At Large" column, which often signed off with his trademark shorthand coda, Yr Faithfl Srvnt. It was Manney who famously characterized the sexy-swoopy Jaguar E-type as the "greatest crumpet-catcher known to man." He also wrote for R&T's sister magazine Cycle World, where his good humor, keen wit and wonderfully obtuse writing style were always welcome entertainment.

Manney, a trained dancer in his youth, was comfortable rubbing shoulders with the Grand Prix greats in Monaco or touring deep in the American South driving some European import the locals had never heard of. His personal garage often included at least one exotic four-wheeler from Italy, but on the motorcycle side he favored the Queen's Iron, as illustrated by the four Britbikes on sale in this auction.

Flagship of the motley fleet has to be his Manx Norton. As befits Manney's slanted view on life in general and transportation devices in particular, this is no ordinary Manx. In silhouette, all the familiar components are there. The overhead cam motor with its right-side bevel-drive tower and exposed valve springs. The innovative all-welded frame so ahead of its time it was said to ride "like a featherbed," a name that stuck. The bread-loaf gas tank and bum-stop seat, known to legions of privateer roadracers learning their craft, not least of which was a young Mike Hailwood. The conically shaped brake hubs, the front with a jutting scoop to collect cooling air. All standard Manx fare.

But look closer and you'll discern Manney's grand plan for his Norton. First clue is the Smiths speedometer alongside the usual tach. Gone are the low-mounted clip-ons, replaced my more comfortable tubular handlebars. A custom alloy bracket on one of the frame's front downtubes holds an alternator intended to be belt-driven from a pulley attached to the crankshaft. The engine breathes through a filtered Mikuni carburetor, easier to start and keep idling than the proper remote-float Amal GP (which is included in this sale). The rear fender is drilled and wired to accept a taillight. In deference to neighbors and the local constabulary, a sound-deadening flapper valve was fitted to the megaphone exhaust, cable-operated from the handlebars. Yes, Manney intended this Manx to be street-legal and road-ridden! 

His untimely passing in 1988 put a stop to the project. Since then, all of Manney's bikes have been in the care of son Henry IV, stored in a shed for decades and only recently brought back into the light of day. Obviously, it would take very little to put the machine back in race trim, but what fun to continue where Manney left off, complete the transformation and end up with a cafe-racer ne plus ultra, a genuine road-going Manx Norton with literary provenance."

Mike Jackson, former 'Sales Mangler' for NVT (NortonVilliersTriumph), relates the following:

"Denis Jenkinson [another giant among motoring writers] first knew Henry when he was based in Paris at some time in a late 1950s, at which time he was riding a Manx on the road.  It was so high-geared that as a result he coined the phrase, 'One Bang per Lamp-post*'!   Well, there's a chance that this Manx might be that very machine."

What a terrific provenance, and I wish Henry Manney IV had sold it to me then!

[* Ribald phrase; in pre-internet days, Parisian hookers could be found leaning on lamp-posts as their 'turf']

BEART FEATHERBED MANX NORTON

By John Joss

Nostalgia attacks as I fling my leg over this lovely Featherbed replica: all the old familiar sights and sounds, the identical saddle, throttle, footpeg and lever ergonomics. The sensations are immensely pleasing. I am transported back to my youth as if by magic, watching Geoff Duke and John Surtees on the Island. Take a deep breath. Force down the upwelling of memories and concentrate. The owner’s wife won’t let him ride it, ever. I am honored today.

Before we take the ride, may I ask you, please, not to be down on reproduction bikes. As readers know, one can buy complete bikes and cars of other eras, some built from the original drawings, and when faithfully executed they are as authentic as the originals. Often they are better, produced from superior materials and solving original design problems. Many ‘genuine’ bikes with pedigrees, matching engine and frame numbers, and all that jazz, contain modern parts that replace the ‘pure original.’ Start with spark plugs and keep going.

Last time I rode a Featherbed was on the Isle of Man, a long time ago. It was a 350, with reverse-cone megaphone that controlled exhaust and intake pulses for maximum engine performance. The 500-cc motor on this Francis Beart replica has been started by ‘motorized roller’ applied to the rear wheel, so today no run-and-bump calisthenics are required. Just as well, since I haven’t applied this technique in anger to a race bike in, ahem, several years. I lack the agility now.

The open pipe barks melodiously but without an idle setting in the Amal TT carb I must blip it continuously to keep the fire lit. The only instrument is the tach (see photo). In the nearby pits I see that the throaty bellow sits poorly with visitors, who flinch and put their fingers in their ears. Time to launch. Remember the routine: foot brake on the left, gearshift on the right, up for first.

Mechanical brake and clutch controls embody friction and feel unknown to modern riders who use hydraulics, but these Norton levers and cables have a decisive, honest quality, a strong physical connection. The sensation is a bit like the difference between mechanical, or even assisted-mechanical aircraft controls, vs. ‘fly-by-wire’ systems managed by a modern DFCS (Digital Flight Control System), for example in the F/A-18 Hornet I flew recently, that lack a genuine, direct feel. You’re flying a computer, not an airplane. Perhaps like trying to express emotion through a phone or screen, rather than in person. Not all change is progress.

I roll out onto the Laguna Seca track, accompanied only by the camera car, and proceed to savour five laps in splendid isolation. Doucement: those narrow tires are cold and unscuffed. The big TT Amal is maladjusted and won’t provoke a clean response at low revs, so I must crank it up a tad. There. I guess 50 smooth, linear horses, not like a modern racing two-stroke, with ‘light-switch’ throttle and minuscule rev range, or a race 600 with ‘Everest’ power curves.

I traverse the diabolical, downhill Turn 2 buttonhook and all the sensations of control and feel, conveyed historically by the Featherbed, come back in earnest. Compared with a modern race bike, this half-century-old design holds up well: honest and forgiving, great turn-in, ‘finishes’ the corners without drama. Those drum brakes? Don’t ask too much of them. By the time I reach the Corkscrew I know that I want this experience to continue forever. But Race Control has placed strict limits on my joyride: five laps or fifteen minutes, maximum.

Five laps in just twelve minutes. It passes like the sudden caress of a butterfly’s wing, a snatch of marvelous music or the momentary embrace of a woman whose scent lingers after a casual kiss. One longs for more. (Ref: “The Piper at the Gates of Dawn”).

STANLEY'S NORTON

By John de Kruif


Amazing things still happen; a few blogs ago I published a picture of "uncle Ned'' on his CS1 Norton. Obviously, this was not a standard bike but modifications like the right-hand exhaust can be made by anyone. Then the photo was seen by my friend Simon and with a keen eye for detail and a very good memory the story unfolded. It would be a shame to change the text in the emails below:

Date: Sat, 25 Apr

John- 'Uncle Ned's' CS1 on your web site has what looks to be one of the 1929-ish works type 7 inch front brakes.....the reg. no. OF166 is Birmingham and it would not surprise me if this CS1 wasn't a works cast-off at some stage! The reg. number seems vaguely familiar to me....

Cheers Simon

Date: Sat, 25 Apr

John- no wonder OF166 seemed familiar - it was the reg. no. of the CS1 ridden by Stanley Woods in practise - and perhaps in the actual race - in the 1929 TT. I have a paddock practise photo of him and the bike! Race number was 28.

Cheers Simon

Date: Wed, 29 Apr

John - You may notice that Stanleys bike has the usual (awful) 8" Enfield front hub in this shot but other 1929 TT pics. show the racing 7 inch hub (probably Horton).

Brgds Simon

Great story, but how did uncle Ned get his hands on a factory racer used by Stanley Woods? Half an hour of Googling retrieved the original pic of Ned from the Internet and fortunately it was posted on a forum that displayed the email address of Ned's nephew; an interesting detail is that the nephew operates under the name of NoisyNorton! This is his reply:

Date: Wed, 29 Apr

Hi John,

Info on the bike is pretty scarce. My Dad told me the story of it many years ago. To make it short it seems there was an Irish soccer player (I have his name written down somewhere but I can't remember it) playing for a team in Birmingham and he was good friends with Joe Craig. Which is how he came by the bike. The bike was supposed to be an ex-factory racer. As the story goes the soccer player brought the bike to Ireland for a summer vacation and never brought it back to England. It passed through the family. Dad, Uncle Ned, Uncle Bill etc. and then disappeared just before WW2. Another friend in Ireland remembered possibly owning it but it has long since disappeared possibly for good. I lived in Ireland for a considerable time and became good friends with Stanley (through the Dublin and District Motorcycle Club).

Many thanks, Bill

Joe Craig was the famous and very successful racer, development engineer and Norton racing team director. Stanley Woods was the Irish motorcycle racer famous for 29 motorcycle Grand Prix wins and winning the Isle of Man TT races 10 times in his career.

Date: Thu, 30 Apr

Hi John - The photo was taken in the TT paddock in '29 and Stanley Wood's riding number was 28 in the Senior. It is not a race day photo as the numbers are the wrong colour - white on black was used for practise sessions. I think it highly likely it was his actual race bike - despite the front brake - rather than a publicity shot on a standard machine. For one thing, it has the right hand exhaust port cylinder head which was ONLY used on the works bikes in 1929. Unfortunately, the 1929 works bikes are not listed in the despatch records in one clump so to speak and individual superseded race bikes when sold much later on, do not seem always to have been given an entry so it is really difficult to be 100% sure of facts at this distance in time! Stanley retired in the event itself.....and was too idle to check as to the reason.

Cheers Simon

Date: Thu, 30 Apr

Hi John,

I'm 63 years old and for at least 60 of those years I heard the story of OF 166 being a very special Norton. Stanley Woods was a hero of my Dad during his younger years. I'm sure had he (or uncle Ned or uncle Bill) known it was Stanley's race bike it would still be part of the family. I have a feeling that somewhere in Dublin it is hiding in a shed or garage and will resurface someday...

Bill

Check on John's blog; Rapid Hare Motors.

RIKARD'S FIRST LOVE; 1931 NORTON

By John de Kruif

James Lansdowne Norton designed the company’s first experimental overhead camshaft (OHC) engines in the mid-1920s. After his death, Walter Moore took over development of this engine, resulting in the birth of the CS1 (‘CamShaft 1’) in 1926, an engine best known for the ‘cricket bat’ timing case. Moore also designed a new cradle frame which was shorter and stronger than the previous flat-tank design; the new combination did very well, until Moore redesigned the cylinder heads in 1928. According to Stanley Woods in a 1990 interview, Moore ‘made a complete mess out of it’; the redesigned engines were troubled by overheating due to a poor design of the combustion chamber. The TT races for that year ended with very few Norton victories. The heated discussions which inevitably followed resulted in Moore quitting his job [and moving to NSU – there is speculation that Moore intentionally hexed his engine, after being denied a seat on Norton’s Board of Directors - pd'o], saddling Norton with an OHC engine with a lot of room for improvement. A new OHC engine was designed by Arthur Carroll and Joe Craig, leading to the launch in 1930 of one of the most successful and good-looking engines ever. In 1931, Edgar Franks updated the Norton range, and in 1932 the famous International Models 30/40 were introduced. These were the road-going replicas of Norton’s OHC racing machines which had won many races. The CS1 name continued, although now reserved for the touring version of the OHC models; prior to 1932, the CS1 was the sportiest Norton available from the catalogue.

I bought CS1 Norton a year ago, in a condition described by previous owner Paul d’Orleans [gulp] as ‘The King of Bitza’s'. This description is an overstatement as the numbers have been checked with the Norton factory records and the frame turns out to be a genuine CS1 item, shipped to Germany on 30th of May 1931. The engine was replaced at some point, but is the correct early type, once fitted to a 1932 International M30 model - the basis for a very decent restoration, but most other bits are a blend of replica parts, newer Norton parts, and even a rear wheel from an Indian! I started assembling whatever would fit to ‘look right’, without worries about originality for now. A problem with these early 1930’s Nortons is a lack of reliable literature and pictures, so determining what the CS1 looked like when new is difficult.

Into our story comes Sven Jerksjö from Sweden, and the CS1 his father Rikard Jerksjö bought new and is still in his son’s possession. Luckily, Rikard had a decent camera and made quite a few pictures of the bike when new. “My father’s CS1 was dispatched to Arthur Nyström, the Norton agent of Trollhättan, Sweden on the 29th of June 1931.” Extra fittings and modifications made at the factory included a Magdyno, conversion to foot change, a speedometer reading in kilometers and a headlamp with chrome rim. The original owner planned to race it in local competitions and to that purpose it was stripped by the Swedish agent of the lights and the silencer. The cylinder head internals were polished, a Lucas magneto and a straight-thru exhaust pipe were fitted. Once the work was finished however, the customer who had ordered the Norton found himself in financial difficulties, and not being able to pay for this expensive bike the order was cancelled. Then Rikard walked into the showroom and at the age of twenty bought the CS1 that would serve him for the rest of his life. Rikard did not bother to refit the electrics and kept the Norton in racing trim. For the next nine years he used the CS1 for daily transport, enjoying this fast machine on trips to work and for fun in the weekends. Then World War II started and being very fond of his Norton he stored it for the duration of the war.


After the war, Rikard continued to enjoy his Norton. Small modifications were made, like a tiny bicycle dynamo fitted to the rear wheel, powering the taillight. In 1953, a Norton four-speed gearbox replaced the original three-speed Sturmey-Archer 'box.

Somewhere in the mid 1950’s, Swedish law required that all vehicles should be fitted with proper lights and the Lucas magneto was replaced by a combined Bosch magneto/dynamo unit to power ignition and a Miller headlamp. In 1951, Sven was born and the earliest childhood memory he has of motorcycles is of his father’s CS1.

In the early sixties, disaster happened when Rikard lent the CS1 to a friend who was so overcome with the speed of the Norton that he crashed it into a stone wall. He flew over the handlebars and luckily also over the wall and walked away without serious injuries; the CS1 however suffered badly in the accident. Frame, forks and the front rim were bent and the tanks, both mudguards and other fittings were mangled. Not wishing to part with his beloved CS1, Rikard repaired the motorcycle, but many parts such as the front mudguard and the handlebars with fittings were replaced in the process.


The Norton was the primary family transport until Sven’s father bought his first car 1967. The pictures show him in 1969, still the proud owner of his first love. In that year, Sven got his driving license and he used the CS1 for two seasons before upgrading to a more modern Velocette. The CS1 continued to be used by Sven and his father though it was joined by a 1959 Norton Model 99 Dominator that Rikard, getting older, found easier to start and handle. He used his Dominator every summer until he passed away at the age of 69 in 1980.

The CS1 at that time was due for some major maintenance and for lack of time it was left in the basement of Sven’s mother until 1992, when Sven started to rebuild it to its former glory. As he intends to rebuild it to the exact condition in which his father bought it, progress is slow. The frame and front forks needed additional straightening after the unfortunate event in the early sixties. The rear mudguard was salvaged after the spill but a new replica had to be made to replace the front guard. Many nuts, bolts and other fasteners were refabricated to original specification. The engine has been rebuilt by now but the correct three speed Sturmey Archer gearbox that was recently sourced awaits his attention. Sven is still looking for parts that were lost over the years and he has yet to find a suitable original primary chain case and the handlebar fittings.


The story and the pictures provide us with a valuable insight into what the first Carroll-Craig Nortons looked like when new. And we may draw the conclusion that a motorcycle bought new at the age of 20, rebuilt after a complete write-off in the early sixties (when no one cared about bikes), and kept in the family ever since, must be very good!

REX McCANDLESS AND THE FEATHERBED FRAME

I found an interesting little book the other day; 'Sweet Dreams, the Life and Work of Rex McCandless' by Gordon Small (Ulster Folk and Transport Museum, 1987). Rex and his brother Cromie were responsible for the creation of the infamous 'Featherbed' Norton frame, among quite a few other innovative designs, regardless of the fact that he left school just after his 13th birthday, and had taken no courses in engineering.

"I never had any formal training. I came to believe that it stops people from thinking for themselves. I read many books on technical subjects, but always regarded that as second-hand knowledge. I did my best working in my own way."

Always a motorcycle enthusiast, he began to tune his own machines, and by 1940, had a new Triumph Tiger 100, which was faster than a factory-tuned bronze-head T100 of his friend, Artie Bell (future Norton Works racer). He won the Irish 500cc Road Race and Hillclimb championships that year, even though he felt his brother Cromie to be the better rider. In the '49 Ulster GP, he was the first privateer home, in 6th place (see pic above of Rex, left, and Artie Bell).

Yet he found that his Triumph racer was often making unreasonable demands of its rider, and began experimenting with weight distribution. "I had noticed that when I removed weight in the shape of a heavy steel mudguard anda headlight, that the bike steered a lot better. It made me think about things which swivelled when steering. I was in an area about which I knew nothing, but set-to to find out. It seemed obvious to me that th erigidity of the frame was of paramount importance. That the wheels would stay in line, in the direction the rider ointed the bicycle, regardless of whethr it was cranked over for a corner, and to resist the bumps on the road attempting to deflect it.
Of equal importance was that the wheels would stay in contact with the road. That may seem obvious, but fast motor cycles than bounced all over the place. I decided that soft springing, properly and consistently damped, was required."

The first test-bed for Rex's ideas, built in 1944, was named the 'Benial' (Irish for 'beast' - see above). In general layout, it looked much like the double-loop frame used on the Gilera-Rondine watercooled dohc 4-cyl racer of the 1930's, but it had a proper swingarm at the back with vertical hydraulic shock absorbers (from a Citroen car). More contemporary viewers will see a direct lineage to the Seeley frame, and of course, many of the best Italian and Japanese space-frames from the 1980's. "The Benial was the best-handling bicycle I ever made."

Using the ideas garnered from his experiments, McCandless first designed a bolt-on rear suspension kit for rigid-frame motorcycles (see above), which was tested publicly by and Irish grass-track racing team at Brands Hatch in 1946. Prior to the race, other riders looked askance at the rear suspension kits, but after the race, they clamored for them. Rex had no ambition to go into manufacturing, and sold the rights to Feridax (pic below - Rex discussing his conversion with Stanley Woods).

Rex made friends with Freddie Dixon, famous as a tuner and rider/driver (for Douglas and Riley), and they were entreated by fellow Irishman Ernie Lyons to sort out the Triumph Grand Prix he had bought for the 1946 Manx GP. The Triumph as set up by the factory (I see a pattern here...) was lousy, but Rex and Freddie sorted it out, and Lyons famously won the race, even though his frame had broken (see pic below).

Norton was none too happy of course, as they were having problems of their own with their 'plunger' Garden Gate frame, which had a tendency to break, and handle like a camel. Joe Craig, in an effort to cure the cracks, kept making the frames heavier, with negative results (below; 1948 Works Norton).

In McCandless' view, this showed an insufficient understanding of the stresses involved on the chassis, "...all they did was to fix together bits of tube and some lugs.." In 1949, he told Gilbert Smith, the Managing Director of Norton, "You are not Unapproachable, and you are not the World's Best Roadholder. I have a bicycle which is miles better!" The Norton brass set up a test on the Isle of Man, where a relative of Cromie McCandless' wife was Chief of Police. They closed the roads, "Artie Bell was on my bike, ultimately christened the Featherbed by Harold Daniell. Geoff Duke was on a Garden Gate and both had Works engines. Gilbert Smith, Joe Craig and I stood on the outside of the corner at Kate's Cottage. We could hear them coming from about the 33rd [milestone]. When Geoff came through Kate's he was needing all the road. Artie rode around the outside of him on full bore, miles an hour faster, and in total control. That night Gilbert Smith and I had a good skinful."

Further testing took place at Montlhery, with four riders (Bell, Duke, Daniell, and Johnny Lockett) going flat-out for two days. "We went through two engines, then the snow came on. The frame hadn't broken so we all went home." The debut of the new frame came at Blandford Camp, Dorset, in April 1950, with Geoff Duke aboard (below, winning that race). The string of successes which followed gave a new lease on life to a 20-year-old engine design, and Norton won 1-2-3 in the Senior and Junior TT's that year.

Interestingly, Norton didn't have the facility to produce the Featherbed frame themselves, nor could Reynolds (the tubing mf'r), so Rex brought his own jigs over from Ireland, and personally built the Works Norton frames from 1950-53 (that original jig, as it exists today, can be seen in the pic below - what a historic piece of scrap iron!).

Rex McCandless was never an employee of Norton; he was paid by what worked - if an idea panned out, he was paid £1 per hour. If the idea didn't work, no charge.

By 1953, Rex could see that the writing was on the wall for the Manx engine, and pressed the factory to build a proper 4-cylinder racer, as Gilera and MV Agusta had done. "Joe Craig was against the 4-cylinder project, and persuaded the Board that he could continue to extract enough power from the single." (pic below, Rex and Joe Craig).

As a stopgap measure, Rex designed a new frame, more like the original Benial, with the dohc Norton engine vertical between lowered top rails. The petrol was carried in pannier tanks (see bottom pic), which allowed the rider to stretch out over the frame and behind full streamlining.

The bike was known as the Kneeler, and Ray Amm tried it out first in the North West 200 in 1953. It put up the fastest lap, with Amm calling it the most comfortable bicycle he'd ever ridden. Amm and Eric Oliver took the Kneeler to Montlhery, where it broke the 1-hour speed record at 133.66mph.

"After that, Norton put the Kneeler aside. I had nobody there to support me and they felt it wasn't a real Norton."

Although Eric Oliver used the frame design as the basis for his World Champion sidecar outfit (to be copied by every other outfit shortly afterwards! See pic above), they refused to pursue McCandless' ideas further, and the Kneeler never raced again. Disillusioned, Rex McCandless turned to designing cars.

Photo credits: Photos 1, 2, 3, 5 are from 'Sweet Dreams', by Gordon Small (Ulster Folk and Transport Museum, 1989). Sadly, out of print.
Photos 4, 10, and 15 are from Dark Davey Maertyn, Notorious Anglo-Cajun Photo Pyrate, Scourge of the Elektronyke Seas, Nemesis to the Evyl Muse Kopyryte, Drynker of Whysky, and Dryver of An Olde Pyckuppe Trucke.
Photo 6 (Triumph GP) is from Ivor Davies' 'It's a Triumph!' (Foulis, 1980). A transitional book; part 'Old School' publishing - the writing and small format - and part 'New Breed'; lots of great photos.
Photos 8 (first Featherbed) and 15 (tank shot of Kneeler) are from Mick Walker's 'Norton; the Racing Story' (Crowood, 2002). Still in print; buy it!
The remainder of the Norton shots are from Mick Woollett's excellent 'Norton' (Osprey, 1992), which is also still available, and with George Cohen's 'Flat Tank Norton', is the best book written about this illustrious marque.

THE MUCH-MALIGNED NORTON ATLAS

The Norton twin has a mixed history in the eyes of collectors, and has never achieved the level of desirability of even the humble sidevalve models from the 20's. First laid out in 1947 as a response to the huge success of Edward Turner's lovely Triumph Speed Twin (fully 10 years after that sensational debut), the new Model 7 'Dominator' of 1948 was designed by a protege of Turner's, Bert Hopwood, which did nothing to dispel the image of a 'copycat' machine.

The Model 7 engine was installed in the cycle parts of the ES2 single, with Roadholder forks and 'Garden Gate' (so-called due to its tendency to feel 'hinged' while racing - so much for Norton roadholding!) plunger frame.


The reputation of Norton was at the time completely built on their immortal 79x100mm singles; 16H, Model 18, International, and Manx. While a few vertical twins had managed successes in competition by 1948 (see post on the Wicksteed blown Triumph), it was obvious to any motorcyclist interested in competition that this new design was really not a Thoroughbred, and contrary to the claim of the Triumph 'GP', this design had no Grand Prix future at all.



Nortons seemed almost embarrassed at the introduction of the Model 7, which is understandable given their corporate culture and history. Norton had spent the previous 20 years trouncing their competition in International racing with their well-developed singles. They must have eaten a bit of Humble Pie to be forced to create a twin-cylinder machine to compete with Triumph in sales, but thus was the economic reality of postwar Britain. The demand for big Singles was on the wane, and every major factory in Britain began to produce twin-cylinder machines (even Velocette - but theirs was the 'LE'). The above photo shows the new Model 7 at the Earl's Court Motorcycle Show in 1948; with Bert Hopwood himself and Joe Craig, maestro of the Race Shop, with his hand on the seat. What Joe is thinking to bring that curious smile to his face is worth conjecture; we need a Caption Contest!
Here's mine; 'This golden goose better pay for my 4 cylinder racer...'


The Model 7 engine was installed in the Manx's Featherbed frame in 1951, becoming the Model 88 Dominator. In response to American demand for More Power, the capacity was increased in 1956 to 600cc (the Model 99), and in 1961 the frame top rails were pinched together to make the Slimline frame (requiring less of a bow-leg to sit comfortably), and the 650SS model was introduced, which was truly Norton's answer to the Triumph Bonneville. The Atlas arrived in 1962, as the trump card to the Bonnie (which didn't grow to 750cc until 1973).

The Atlas was named after the Intercontinental Ballistic Missile (ICBM) developed in 1957, which formed the backbone of US Air Force nuclear deterrent strategy ('Mutually Assured Destruction' - MAD). It was soon adapted by NASA to launch satellites into orbit, then humans too, as the chief booster of the Mercury space project, which by 1962 had launched John Glenn into orbit. With a namesake of such awesome and threatening power, perhaps it was fated that the Atlas gained a mixed reputation.

What the buyer got with the Atlas: Cycle parts which were the Gold Standard of motorcycle handling from 1951 until the late 1980s - the Featherbed frame (designed by Rex and Cromie McCandless in 1949), and the Roadholder forks (designed before WW2, after the BMW tele forks). An excellent gearbox, developed from the Sturmey-Archer design from the early 1920's (Norton purchased the design in the early 1930s, and continued to develop the 'box until the final Commando in 1978). Electrics which were at least modern (ie, an alternator), if not quite in Japanese e-start territory (that came in 1975 on the MkIII Commando). The tinware was attractive, if not as pretty as a Triumph, with deeply valanced chrome mudguards and a big chrome Norton flash badge. Weight was 435lbs or so with a bit of fuel. The clutch wasn't really up to the job of handling the massive torque of the new low-compression engine (7.6:1), and tended to slip when the throttle was suddenly opened. As for the engine itself, it developed 50hp @ 6800rpm, not that you would want to stay at such revs for long; luckily, the Atlas developed power all over the place, from almost no revs, and didn't need to have its neck wrung to build up speed.



Which certainly echoes my own experience. An Atlas was my first British motorcycle, when as a young lad I was a budding Rocker. In 1985; I read an ad in Citybike magazine for a 'low-mileage, fully rebuilt' '65 Norton Atlas 750cc ($800!), so I hitched a ride from SF to Santa Cruz to pick it up. I was a complete newbie to Britbikes, and didn't think much of the fact that the gas tank had been trimmed at the bottom (where it wraps over the frame tubes), the front fender was missing, and worst of all, the headstock had been altered to give more 'rake' to the forks.


It ran fine, and I rode it back to San Francisco over Skyline Blvd, testing the limits of the new machine, soon discovering that the bike shook so badly over 90mph that I literally couldn't see straight - everything became a blur. I had read all the literature I could find about this model, and had been warned, but it was still surprising to experience such vibration, especially as my previous bikes had been smooth vintage BMWs and Hondas. I kept that first Atlas for about 3 years, making some improvements, but the fact remained that I had bought a dog. After rebuilding the engine completely after only 3000 miles, I sold it along, vowing never to own another one.



My second Atlas (!) was a racer in a nickel-plated Wideline frame, Manx fiberglass tank, and huge Fontana magnesium brake. The engine had been beautifully worked over, with larger carbs (magnesium bodied Amal Concentrics - and I bet you've never seen a pair!), big valves, high-compression pistons, a genuine gold Lucas Racing magneto, Manx alloy oil tank, alloy rims, and a home-made rear disc brake setup. Shockingly enough, it was fully epuipped for the road, 'ish', as the 2-into-1 exhaust with reverse cone megaphone was devoid of silencing. The engine was much smoother than that first Atlas, and had been clearly built up by an expert. It was understandably a bit of a monster on the road, although the power was amazing, and it was certainly the fastest vertical twin I've ever owned.



My third Atlas hardly counts, as it was a basket case, and was resold before I had turned a wrench, to a fellow who wanted to build a Triton. Such was the fate of many an Atlas, I fear; the temptation to ditch the Hopwood vertical twin in favor of the Edward Turner Triumph was too great. And you must admit, Turner had a flair for proportion and detail which eluded Hopwood - the Norton engine is attractive, but workmanlike and not especially beautiful (sacrilege!). While the performance gain from adding a Triumph twin engine of 650cc capacity is nil, the Triton lives on today as a means of improving the handling of the Triumph powerplant.



Last year I bought my current 1966 model, in silver, for two reasons: 1. Whenever my path crosses with local collector Mike Shiro, always seen riding a 60's British twin (Triumph, Norton, Matchless), he looks so damn cool. 2. The Atlas was a known quantity, bog standard, in lovely condition, and didn't smoke or rattle. The Atlas is an underappreciated model here in the US, with a deserved reputation for bad vibration; thus they can be found very reasonably.

As per its reputation, the Norton 'Featherbed' frame is solid as a rock, with a bit of rake to the forks, requiring modest effort around bends. You don't 'think' this machine through corners, you nudge it, and it will do whatever you ask. It's possible to change 'line' in the midst of a corner, even a fast one, and while it always feels safe, it isn't necessarily agile.

Last summer I spent a week riding this Atlas through some of the twistiest roads CA has to offer - I mean 5 hours continuous riding through 30-50mph corners. At some points, with a passenger on board, I could feel myself really pushing the handlebars when changing direction quickly; this never got tiring, but it was noticeably different for me, having become used to smaller machines. I'm sure many riders, used to modern machines, would prefer the stability of the Norton, as it feels safe as a house.

As the 750cc vertical twin is decried for its vibration, I was a bit worried about riding it for a week, wondering if my hands would swell and my fillings fall out. But I came to understand the bike, and found its sweet spots, so that by Friday I could report an extremely smooth and very comfortable ride. The character of the machine changes dramatically when the throttle is twisted past Medium. When power is needed, say for overtaking cars, the Atlas surges forward like the rocket for which it's named, without any fuss or drama, but certainly with vibes.

But, if the throttle is used judiciously, the Atlas is actually an exceptional Sports-Tourer, requiring few gear changes even in rapidly changing conditions. I found it almost never necessary to use first or second gear, except when starting from a dead stop. Even in 20mph hairpins, third gear would suffice, and a gentle twist of the throttle would see the bike surging forward out of the bend. With a passenger, the Atlas has power enough to handle just about any hill or bend with disdain; such is its Manx heritage, and the breeding shows. I suppose I've made peace with the model after all these years.