Zanè Laverda 650/668/750 Twins – The Other, Other Italian Middleweight

Laverda 750 S Formula

The vaunted Laverda marque needs little introduction. But I suppose we need to address why a whole series of production Laverdas would warrant an OddBike profile here on Bike-urious. Laverda has long been a fond topic of mine (see my exclusive V6 history on Silodrome.com) and the company has a long and proud history of producing fine Italian sporting machines, Odd or not.

Laverda 650 Sport

There is, however, an entire generation of Laverdas that has been largely forgotten in recent decades: those produced at the Zanè factory through the 1990s. It is time to rectify that and introduce you to the last, and perhaps best, Laverdas that preceded the marque’s descent into irrelevance as a zombie brand punted into a dark corner of the Piaggio Group’s closet.

(Incidentally, for some first-hand experience with building and racing Laverdas during their golden era of the 1970s, I highly recommend you watch my conversation with Kenny Austin on the OddBike YouTube channel. Kenny’s first Laverda was a 750 SFC, to give you an idea of his fascinating history.)

Laverda 750 Super Sport

To understand the Zanè era of Laverda we need to go back to the late 1970s, to the tail end of the Breganze factory’s heyday. Following the success of Laverda’s 650/750 parallel twins and 1000 triples, a new, modern, mid-displacement twin was developed to offer a lighter, more nimble machine in the lucrative middleweight category.

READ THE REST ON BIKE-URIOUS.COM

Laverda 750 Super Sport

Interesting Links:
Zane Laverda Photo Gallery
Laverda V6 History on Silodrome.com
Kenny Austin interview on OddBike YouTube
Tuning Weber-Marelli Fuel Injection on OddBike YouTube
Moto-Guzzi MGS-01 on OddBike
Laverda 668 technical/service information
Bought on Bike-urious: Laverda 750S Caraneta Part I 
Bought on Bike-urious: Laverda 750S Caraneta Part II
Sport Rider review of the 650 Ghost
BreganZane.com

Laverda 750 S Formula II

Laverda 750 Brochure

Wait... WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?

Morbidelli 850 V8 - Eight Cylinder Exotica on Bike-urious.com

Thanks to Abhi over at Bike-urious.com for sponsoring this post! Be sure to follow his site for daily doses of weird and wonderful motorcycles.

There are two factors in the motorcycle industry that can and usually will doom any bike from the beginning:

1. An extremely high price tag.
2. Styling courtesy of an automotive design house.

The subject of today's profile applied both of these deadly sins to their full effect. It was certified by Guinness as the most expensive motorcycle of all time. And it was declared the ugliest motorcycle of all time by anyone who had the misfortune to gaze upon the bodywork penned by Pininfarina.

This is the Morbidelli 850 V8. Technologically fascinating and produced by a company that should have had no right to build an eight-cylinder grand touring machine, it was an ambitious attempt to break into what has traditionally been the black hole of motorcycle genres: the boutique luxury motorcycle.

Read the rest at Bike-urious.com!

Interesting Links:
Morbidelli Museum Website
Ultimate Motorcycling on the only privately-owned Morbidelli V8
Giancarlo Morbidelli and his museum
Morbidelli - A Story of Men and Fast Motorcycles 2014 documentary
Morbidelli V12 Project
Morbidelli V12 on the Kneeslider
Press on financial trouble at the Morbidelli Museum
OddBike Morbidelli Gallery
Phil Aynsley gallery of the Morbidelli Museum and the V12 project

OddBike Stories - Ken Austin, Uncut

The full-length OddBike Stories video interview with Ken Austin of Kenny's Tuning. Ken shares his thoughts on the motorcycle industry, his career racing Laverdas and Suzukis and his techniques as a racer, and his race tuning experience in Canadian Superbike and AMA events across Canada and the United States.

A self-taught mechanic and skilled tuner who has spent more than 40 years working in the motorcycle industry, Ken is a natural story teller and his experiences are fascinating. It was difficult to select just a few points to share in the edited version of our interview, so I chose to present the full-length version here for the benefit of those who want to know more about Ken and his work. It's well worth a watch!

OddBike Stories - Ken Austin, Kenny's Tuning

This marks the first foray of OddBike into the video realm, the opening installment of a series called OddBike Stories. 

Stories will showcase interviews with motorcycle personalities you might not know, but should. They will be the underdogs, the innovators, and the quiet geniuses who probably won't get any mention in the mainstream motorcycle press. 

It will be a place where the most interesting people you've never heard of can share their experiences.

Each episode will be presented in two formats: a condensed version edited into a 15-20 minute video, and an uncut version featuring the complete interview for those who want to learn more.  

Our first Story presents Ken Austin, an independent motorcycle tuner and mechanic based in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. Ken works independently at Kenny's Tuning, a home-based shop where he applies his considerable skill as a mechanic to work on a wide variety of bikes.

Ken caters to discerning riders in Alberta who have learned of his skills through word of mouth, but his reputation as a superb mechanic didn't come out of nowhere. He is one of the most intelligent and inquisitive tradesmen you'll ever meet, and his skills have been hard won through decades of experience as a mechanic, motorcycle/sailboat/mountain bike racer, and CSBK/AMA race tuner. His story is fascinating and I'm proud to present Ken as the subject of our first OddBike Story.

Editorial - Resurrection

"I have one in Vancouver if you still need it."

I picked up the phone and immediately dialed the attached number. He was shocked by how quickly I responded to his message. I probably called him 10 minutes after he sent it.

Sometimes I have trouble mitigating my desperation. Playing it cool isn't my forte when I'm excited or lonely. It's not a good strategy for deal making or finding love, respectively.

Bimota DB3 - Much Maligned Mantra

Sacha Lakic Design

For any Italophilic sport rider, there are few marques than can equal the beauty and desirability offered by the motorcycles produced by Bimota. Starting with their fortuitous decision to start building bikes instead of HVAC equipment in 1972, Bimota has earned its reputation producing some of the most delectable two-wheeled exotica in the world by assembling world-class sport machines around proven, bought-in powertrains. They are one of the few companies that can consistently take top-shelf engines from already capable machines and then make those donor bikes look staid, slow and boring in comparison to what the folks in Rimini have been slapping together in their laughably tiny "factory" since the Nixon administration.

The DB3 Mantra is not one of those machines. Nor was it ever intended to be. The Mantra represents one of Bimota's bigger missteps, an attempt to crack into a wider market that failed to win over many fans. It was expensive and saddled with some of the most controversial styling ever put into production. It was also one of the most useable real-world street bikes ever produced by the company, a fact lost in the unending stream of negative commentary that has dogged the Mantra since it was unveiled in 1994.

OddBike Road Test: 2007 Aprilia Tuono 1000R

"Ultra Classic - that's a Touring model right? Not a Softail or Dyna?"

The customer stares at me blankly for a moment. He came in asking for an aftermarket stator for his Harley, which I've already told him is a bad idea because the only ones I can get through my suppliers are garbage, and we've already had an incident where one caught fire the first time the bike was started after installation. But he was having none of it, because somebody, somewhere, told him that HD original stators were shit and he needed to buy the cheap Chinese ones instead, because apparently those are fantastic when they aren’t shitting the bed, self-immolating, or just not fitting the application they are listed for.

After a moment he responds. 'Um, can I talk to someone more experienced than you? No offence, but you don't even know what an Ultra Classic is.'

Editorial - Eulogy

As my upcoming article is taking quite a bit longer than expected to finish and awaiting feedback from a few sources, I'm taking a break this week to present a personal editorial. Enjoy.

It's August, 2006 and I'm dicking around on the computer during a work break. I'm working for minimum wage as an unlicensed mechanic in Montreal at a British bike specialist while I attend McGill, completing a degree in history while getting my hands dirty during the summer months. I've been working on greasy old Brit iron for several months, fixing all manner of Triumphs, Nortons and the odd BSA or Enfield. Everything from show winners to bodged-together relics pass through the shop and while I'm semi-capable of doing the work I'm truly out of my element. I'd consider my skills somewhere around advanced-shade-tree, likely far from what you'd want to have working on your pride and joy but you really could't expect much for 55$ an hour. I muddle my way through it with the guidance of the grizzled owner without making too many egregious mistakes - though there were a few, thankfully none that manifested themselves outside the walls of the shop.

I'm idly browsing the Auto Trader wistfully looking at bikes for sale. I'm currently riding a '04 SV650 I bought new in the fall of 2004. Being a cash-strapped student I financed it for approximately a trillion years and skipped full coverage insurance because as a then 18 year old rider my insurance company seemed to view my premiums as a way of balancing their books against all those born-again middle-aged HOG riders they were undercharging. It was a fateful decision, because in 2005 I made the bonehead move of lending my SV to a coworker who claimed to be a proficient rider. After he skidded across the road in front of his house, narrowly dodged a passing car, and then flung the bike into a five-foot ditch not 100 yards from his front door I had learned, the hard way, he was completely full of shit. With no collision coverage and the bike effectively written off (severed forks, split rim, busted radiator, crushed exhaust headers, twisted bars, etc…) I made a deal with Fucknuts to fix the bike myself using GSXR takeoff parts, which is de rigueur for anyone who wishes to address the main shortcomings of the SV (i.e. garbage suspension and mediocre brakes) while still saving money compared to buying OEM replacement parts. I diligently showed up at his workplace every payday and escorted him to the nearest ATM until his debt was paid, and I ended up with a neat streetfighter once all was done.

Millepercento Moto Guzzis - Filling the Void

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Moto Guzzi has lost its way.

The boys at Mandello del Lario represent the oldest continuously operating brand in Europe in spite of operating in a near-constant state of flux due to catastrophic insolvency and unstable sales. Over the years the products emblazoned with the eagle crest have attempted to fill nearly every conceivable niche - sometimes successfully, more often not. Despite their attempts to crack into various categories with sometimes ill-advised oddball machines, Guzzis of old channelled a certain spirit that made them appealing to a certain type of rider who lusted for something peculiar. They were sporting machines, but not sportbikes. They were a bit rough and charmingly unpretentious, but refined enough to be pleasant. They were unique, but somehow familiar, and backed up by decades of heritage – passionate machines with antiquated guts. Moto Guzzi excelled at building the prototypical gentleman’s sports machine, exemplified by iconic models like the Le Mans, the V11, and the Daytona. They were not the fastest, or the most agile, or the most useable – but they were some of the most charming.

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But it was not to last. With their finances in shambles and profits needed to keep the lights on, a new strategy would be needed. It was a boring solution, with practicality and rationality taking precedence over passion. When the Piaggio Group took over Moto Guzzi in 2004, the company gradually phased out the true heirs to the company’s heritage in favour of dull, safe products that would appeal to the masses. Thus we ended up with wallflower machines like an asthmatic retro throwback, a chrome-addled American-esque cruiser, and a Teutonic-aping capital-A “Adventure Tourer”. Guzzi weathered their near-demise to fight another day, but at the cost of all that made them interesting.

Moto Guzzi V-Twin Off Roaders - Improbable Italian Enduros

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Considering our recent inundation of overweight, overly-complicated, quasi-enduro hair shirts produced by every manufacturer and their Chinese knockoffs, you'd be forgiven if you were to think that the overwrought poseur offroader (sorry, “Adventure Tourer”) was a recent innovation. If you thought these “should-be-an-uncompetitive-road-bike-but-it's-a-class-leader-because-we-made-the-suspension-too-tall” machines that clutter up showrooms and spend most of their time outside the nearest Starbucks - or beached on logging road ditches by weekend warriors - were concocted by the marketing gurus of the motorcycling world who sought to add yet another saleable category to our ever-growing gamut of useless niches, you'd only be half right. The improbable off-roader has been around for decades, gradually evolving into the two-wheeled barges we enjoy today, and few of these fauxduros were as unusual as the V-twin mud pluggers that rolled out of the Moto Guzzi works in Mandello del Lario.

Laverda 1000 V6 - The World's Fastest Laboratory

Image Courtesy Cor Dees Laverda Museum

As I’ve said on Silodrome before, if you want a quick ticket into the Motorcycle Hall of Fame (in the hearts and minds of motorcycle aficionados, anyway) you must build a six-cylinder machine. Nothing is quite as technologically impressive and magnificently superfluous as stuffing far more cylinders than are necessary to do the job into a contraption that is far too small to properly accommodate them. You can easily attain the power you need with a far simpler and lighter four. But fours have become so boring, so conventional, and hardly meriting of the breathless praise of us enthusiasts/bloggers.

Most people are familiar with the Honda CBX1000, and perhaps the Benelli Sei that preceded it as the first six-cylinder production machine. These flagship models book ended the 1970s, a heady time when progress in motorcycle design began to accelerate towards modernity with a series of impressively over-engineered rides that would become the genesis of a new era of performance and complexity. Where the automotive world was mired in the malaise of the gas crisis and smog controls, development in the motorcycle industry was fast and progress was being made in leaps and bounds, spurred on by the quality and innovation shown by the Japanese manufacturers who set about obliterating the old marques on the street and track.

Image Courtesy Cor Dees Laverda Museum

It was during this heyday, in the period between the Sei and the CBX, that a well-respected Italian marque came up with the hare brained idea of hiring an automotive engineer to design an advanced V-6 engine that would blow away the competition on the track and offer the tantalizing possibility of being slotted into one of the most powerful and exclusive road bikes the world had seen up to that point.

This week, I present the legendary Laverda V6, the only vee-six powered motorcycle, and one of the most notable machines to roll out of the Breganze works.

Read the rest on Silodrome.com

Gilera CX125 - Beginning the Future

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Up until recently there was an interesting category of sporting 125cc two-strokes that dominated the European beginner bike market. Countries like Italy and Britain restricted new teenaged riders to 125cc machines as a “learner” category that was well catered to by most of the major manufacturers. These learner specials often had race-replica sport-bike styling and sharp dynamics to appeal to the masses of hormone-addled 17 year olds who wanted to look fast, even if their machine couldn’t have more than 15bhp by law. Four-stroke 125s were always available but the hot ticket up until recent years was always a rip snorting two-stroke that could be derestricted once you had completed your learning period. While the four-strokes and two-strokes made the same power when restricted, the smoker could be uncorked afterwards to unleash the full fury of the mighty single – as much as 35-odd horsepower, manic power in a machine that scarcely cracks 250lbs with a full tank of fuel.

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Most of these learner specials are by and large inspired by their bigger stablemates – thus you could get a miniaturized Yamaha YZF-R, Honda NSR/CBR, Aprilia RS, or even an 8/10ths replica of the iconic Ducati 916 sold as the Cagiva Mito. There was, however, one notable exception to this rule where a manufacturer went all in and gambled on producing a totally unique design that would break the mould. Gilera produced what was possibly the weirdest 125 sport bike of all time – the short lived and radically-styled Gilera CX125, which would quickly earn a status as a cult special that had some of the most futuristic design to ever grace a “beginner” bike.

Gilera is one of those unfortunate cases of a once-great marque that has recently fallen into obscurity and the realm of the mundane. Gilera was once a mighty force in motorcycle competition, producing some of the most advanced Grand Prix machines of the 1930s, 40s and 50s. Gilera today is a mere footnote in the history of Italian motorcycle brands and a feather in the cap of parent company Piaggio, who debased the once-storied name it by slapping its logo onto a series of dull scooters. It wasn’t always so.

Magni Sport 1200S - Italo-Asian Hybrid

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When it comes to exotic Italian motorcycles, few brands can claim the prestige and history of Magni. The bikes that have rolled out of Arturo Magni’s shop are the sort of two-wheeled art that become instant classics right out of the showroom. Magni's decades of experience with Gilera and MV Agusta during their respective glory years have informed the development of some of the most iconic and beautiful sports machines ever produced in Italy, powered by classic engines from MV and Moto Guzzi. Magnis are fast and elegant, and are powered by sonorous, red blooded Latin engines.

So when Magni introduced their swansong production model in 1999, it only made sense that it would be powered by a Japanese four yanked out of a Suzuki Bandit. Wait, what?

Nembo Super 32 Rovescio - Topsy-Turvy Triple

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Conservatism runs strong in motorcycle design and anything that breaks the mould is sure to garner its fair share of attention. You have many opportunities for improvement at your disposal – you could redesign the suspension (FFE350, Vyrus), the chassis (Gurney Alligator) or you could fit an unusual engine (Van Veen OCR). The Super 32 Rovescio, built by tiny Roman manufacturer Nembo Motociclette, is just such an iconoclastic machine. It is a motorcycle that literally turns engine design on its head – because designer Daniele Sabatini decided he could build a better motor by flipping it upside down.

Moto Guzzi MGS-01 - Cooking Goose

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Booming Italian twin-cylinder trackday terrors have generally been the specialty of Ducati over the last 30 years; you might picture the odd orange Laverda parallel twin thrown in when that company is flirting with solvency, but generally Ducati is the go-to Latin track machine. Rarely do you picture a big, air-cooled, transverse V-twin out of Mandello de Lario thundering out of a corner and scything past the opposition. Moto Guzzi generally presents an air of staunch traditionalism, a sort of Italian BMW that is somehow more passionate than the Munich brand but far more rational than the exuberant offerings from Bologna. Guzzi riders are weathered, skilled old men who thump along the backroads, do their own repairs, and generally abstain from high-speed shenanigans. Or at least that’s the stereotype, one that was briefly blown into the weeds by the spectacularly uncharacteristic MGS-01 Corsa.

Vyrus Motorcycles - Hub-Centre Perfection

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Last week we featured the FFE 350, a heavily modified forkless Yamaha RZ350 built by engineering virtuoso Julian Farnham. In keeping with a forkless-front-end theme, this week we will be profiling the most exotic and advanced hub-centre steering designs of all time – the Vyrus.

If you want to re-invent the proverbial wheel in the motorcycle industry, it seems that the most popular place to start is the front suspension. Dozens of companies have fielded hundreds of prototypes and the odd production model that eschews the conventional telescopic fork for something more effective. It seems that every few years an iconoclastic design emerges to tip the motorcycle world on its head and correct the flaws of the traditional fork. One of the most striking (and difficult to execute) alternative suspensions is the hub-centre steered front wheel, and the undisputed current king of the hub-centre design is Vyrus, based in Coriano, Italy.

Ducati 916 SP/SPS - Ultimate Desmoquattro Superbikes, Part I

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Seems that lately I’ve been on a Ducati kick. So far we’ve covered bevel heads and belt heads, so lets continue with the next generation of Ducati performance – the Desmoquattro. In this two part article I will cover the development and execution of the 916 Sport Production models, the ultimate Desmoquattro Superbikes. 
Seems I cover the 916 a lot on this site. Funny that.  

It’s 1985 and Ducati, with fresh capital and encouragement from new parent company Cagiva, is making a major gamble on the engine design of a talented young Italian engineer by the name of Massimo Bordi. Bordi’s engineering thesis was for a four-valve per cylinder desmodromic cylinder head, based on the principles of desmo valvetrains that had become a signature of the Ducati brand. Famed engineer Fabio Taglioni had developed the original Ducati desmo system, and then refined it with his belt-driven overhead cam Pantah design, but it was clear by the mid 80s that further development would be needed to keep Ducati twins on the podium.

NCR Millona - The Ultimate Ducati Pantah

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Last week I profiled one of the ultimate bevel-head Ducatis, the Vee Two Alchemy SV-1. This week, it’s time for the Pantah’s revenge.

In the modern age of higher and higher horsepower outputs and electro-trickery keeping us out of the ditch and on the good side of the EPA, there are certain riders who pine for a simpler formula for performance. These folks are a special kind of luddite, purists who wants a raw and uncompromised sport machine. It isn’t that they desire a return to a prior (maybe inferior) era – it’s that they want their thrills in pure, undistilled format. They want minimal weight and a broad spread of power in a perfectly tuned chassis.

Vee Two Ducati Alchemy SV-1 - Modernized Aussie Bevel Head

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Every few years we in the Ducati community have a crisis when the latest generation of Ducs are unveiled. Inevitably the old hats and stodgy luddites will bemoan the commercialization of the company and how it has lost its way compared to back in THEIR DAY when they build the best goddamned bikes with no nevermind paid to profitability (or reliability). It happened when they dropped the dry clutch. It happened when the 1199 eschewed all the traditional Ducati traits. It happened when Pierre Terblanche was given free run in the design department. Hell, some purists claim the last real Ducatis rolled off the line in 1983 before Cagiva got their meat hooks on the brand.

So it was in the 1980s when the Pantah rubber-band motors started replacing the bevel drive twins and the purists moaned that Ducati had lost its way.

Ducati Desmoquattro Superbike FAQ

I wrote the Ducati Desmoquattro Superbike FAQ a few years ago based on my own research when I was looking for my personal 916. I've since updated it with corrected info and personal experience with my intemperate Italian bitch. If you want to buy a 748-916-996, this is where you should start.

What’s good about them?

Well, many things. Most people tend to agree that the 916 series is a ground breaking model and will remain a classic motorbike for years to come. This ensures decent resale and means you’ll always know you bought a motorbike with genuine heritage and prestige. They are beautiful machines, inside and out, from the small details up to the bike au complet. The Italians are particularly good at making the machine as a whole seem like an intricate piece of art, with individual parts being beautiful on their own merit as well as bolted together. Beyond the good looks, these bikes are great to ride too. Handling is very manageable and confidence inspiring, not to mention very stable. These bikes are very responsive to suspension setup and mild performance tuning, turning a great bike into a fantastic one. And few will argue against the cachet and head turning potential of these machines.

What’s bad about them?

Many things. They cannot be neglected or abused – they require frequent maintenance and careful servicing, otherwise they will suffer serious mechanical failures. They need to be used regularly or they will suffer a whole other set of problems. The electrical system is inadequate on early models, without exception. They are dogs to ride at low speeds, they are uncomfortable, and they are utterly uncompromising machines. They were designed as race bikes first and street bikes second – remember that and it won’t seem so bad when you are stalling and cooking yourself in traffic.

As I will explain, there are many areas that need attention, and many things that can go wrong. But if you are a patient tinkerer with decent mechanical ability, or someone with a fat wallet and a helpful dealership, then you can keep them running well forever. And most of the faults are relatively straightforward and easy to rectify given adequate patience and a careful hand.