Silk 700 - The Ultimate English Two-Stroke

Image Source

Think of the icons of British motorcycling and odds are you will think of one thing exclusively – four-strokes. All the great flagship cycles of English industry – the Commandos, the Manxes, Bonnevilles, Tigers, Interceptors, Gold Stars, and anything else of note from the golden age of British bikes was going to be operating on the principles of suck-squish-bang-blow. British two-strokes were relegated to small, cheap, entry-level machines that were aspired to by no one. Dirty two-strokes were the domain of the Japanese as far as most of the British marques were concerned.

The Irving-Vincent - Anachronistic Trackday Missile

Image Source
The Irving-Vincent

Let’s say you are the head of a successful engineering firm in Australia. You have a full compliment of advanced casting, prototyping and milling machinery at your disposal and years of R&D experience in various avenues. And you happen to be passionate about motorcycles.

Norton P86 750 Challenge - Norton's Last Gasp

Image Source

When we think of the death of the British motorcycle industry in the 1970s, we generally recall the final generation of cantankerous, leaky, vibrating, old fashioned crock-pots being foisted onto an increasingly apathetic market. These were conservative and under-engineered machines that harkened back to an earlier era of motorcycle design (and lax quality control). With the advent of oil tight, reliable, well built, and fine-riding Japanese motorcycles (with – gasp – electric starters), the writing was on the wall for most of the British marques. Some made a last-ditch attempt to stave off failure by hurriedly cobbling together something that might be competitive against the Japanese onslaught.

Hesketh V1000 - Immortal Aristocratic Motorcycles

It is the 1970s. You are a wealthy British aristocrat, a Lord and a Baron no less, and you have a keen interest in motor sports. So, with your own money and with the express purpose of having fun, you create your own racing company. Eventually you hire a reckless playboy/racer with a penchant for drugs, sex and boozing, and you have a grand old time, even winning a few races. Along the way you develop a reputation for ostentatious displays of wealth and excess on the trackside, like helicopter rides, Rolls Royce pit cars, and 5 star accommodations (in a time long before excess became the norm in Formula 1).

After a few years the party is over and you are looking for a new gasoline-fuelled hobby. How would you follow up a race career like that? By founding your own bespoke motorcycle company to kickstart the dying British motorcycle industry, of course.