Glenn Hammond Curtiss - The Original Hell Rider

Glenn Hammond Curtiss

Who was Glenn Hammond Curtiss, and how does his legacy relate to the introduction of a new concept in cutting edge American electric motorcycle design? This is a question many followers of the Curtiss brand have asked. Perhaps they wonder why a prominent name in American aviation would be applied to a motorcycle, presuming it's a mere nod to a famous name to garner some recognition for a new brand. A few might be aware of Curtiss' involvement in early American motorcycling and his daring records that stood for decades, but they might fail to understand how this relates to the electric revolution Curtiss promises to offer.

Glenn Curtiss

The truth is that Curtiss draws upon a long legacy of innovation, skill, risk-taking, and American ingenuity from a golden era of American exceptionalism that is perfectly summarized by the life and work of Glenn H. Curtiss. The Curtiss of today seeks to push the boundaries of design, engineering and performance while offering an heirloom quality machine designed from first principles that are unlike anything offered by their competition. These are the very same principles espoused by Curtiss in the earliest days of American motorcycling, so it is fitting that the Curtiss of today seeks to pick up where the Curtiss Motor Company left off more than 100 years ago. Curtiss seeks to continue a legacy of innovation that was driven by the vision of one remarkable man whom they have proudly designated their namesake: Glenn Hammond Curtiss.  

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Glenn and Lena Curtiss

Glenn Curtiss V-8 Motorcycle Ormond Beach, FL

Glenn Curtiss V-Twin Ormond Beach, FL

Glenn Curtiss V-Twin Ormond Beach, FL

Curtiss Factory, Hammondsport NY

Marvel OHV Motorcycle

Glenn Curtiss' Langley Medal

Interesting Links:
Curtiss Motorcycles
OddBike profile of the Curtiss V8
Curtiss photo gallery
Glenn H. Curtiss Museum, Hammondsport NY
Geoffrey N. Stein catalogue of New York motorcycle manufacturers
Smithsonian entry on the Curtiss V8 Motorcycle
Smithsonian article on the Curtiss V8 Motorcycle
1911 Curtiss-Marvel OHV single sold by Bonhams
March 1927 Popular Science article on Glenn Curtiss
The Vintagent on Glenn Curtiss
Disciples of Flight on Glenn Curtiss

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.

Harley-Davidson VR1000 - God's Own Voice

It is 1986, and Harley-Davidson is in the midst of a rebirth. After years of struggling under AMF ownership and suffering through poor quality, lagging sales, and a tarnished reputation, the 1980s have offered a new era of prosperity for America’s perennial motorcycle manufacturer. Following the purchase of the works from AMF by a group of investors led by Willie G. Davidson in 1981, a major restructuring has restored solvency to the marque. And now the company is looking to recapture some of the racing successes that had driven their brand for decades. The XR program led by Dick O'Brien in the early 1970s had given The Motor Company a strong base for success in American racing, but it was limited to dirt track and a few notable but fleeting wins in European road racing with Renzo Pasolini and Cal Rayborn aboard the XRTT. With the coffers finally filling after the dark days, Harley's reputation improving, and production steadily climbing, the mid-1980s seemed like the ideal time to begin a new program that would lead to the development of the most potent, most modern motorcycle HD would ever create.

This is the story of the VR1000, the Superbike contender that was hoped to put Harley-Davidson back on the road racing podium. This is a story you might think you are familiar with, but the truth of the matter is that you haven't heard the real story of the VR, how it came to be, and how it came to end.

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.'

Mondial Piega - Honouring the Favour

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Take a long-dormant name, add a proven heart, clothe it in Italian design, surround it with high hopes, then end the whole project with crushed expectations, insolvency and some ancillary criminal escapades. It is the classic story of the failed motorcycle company, a trope that gets repeated over and over every few years when someone seeks to play on nostalgia and resurrect some long-dead company to sell vapourware to unsuspecting enthusiasts... Except this story is a bit more interesting and a bit more nuanced, and the revival came that much closer to succeeding. This is the story of the Mondial Piega, a machine that was set to conquer the superbike market through an unprecedented partnership that had its roots in a simple gesture of good sportsmanship that occurred over 50 years ago.

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.

Confederate Wraith Part II - American Iconoclast

Part II of the Confederate Wraith story. Click here for Part I.

It is late 2005 and Confederate Motors is in shambles. Fresh from the epic high of securing a high-profile investor in the Middle East, the company’s president Matt Chambers and lead designer JT Nesbitt returned to their New Orleans base of operations to discover that their factory has been destroyed by the winds and flooding brought on by Hurricane Katrina. With their facilities in ruins and their insurance company bankrupted by the claims in the aftermath of the storm, it looks like the infamous purveyor of brutal, radical and rebellious motorcycles is no more. Katrina has seemingly crushed the hopes of bringing Nesbitt’s iconoclastic Wraith design to production.

The situation appeared dire and the circumstances were debilitating, particularly for a tiny boutique manufacturer that had constantly fought with debt, flirted with bankruptcy, and struggled to meet the demand for their two-wheeled anti-establishment icons. A few frames and components were salvaged from the ruined factory, as were most of the computer files and company books, but the operation was a long way away from building bikes - particularly when New Orleans was still wracked with instability, crime and resource shortages in the wake of flooding. In spite of the literal collapse of their New Orleans factory, Confederate’s anonymous investor/saviour had maintained his end of the agreement and would provide the capital needed to renew the company. The question remained: with the factory gone and New Orleans in shambles, where would Confederate build its bikes?

Confederate Wraith Part I - American Iconoclast

Photo Courtesy Brian Case

Part I of the Confederate Wraith story. Click here for Part II

There are rare instances in the realm of motorcycle design when there emerges an icon. These are machines so radical that they serve as a clean break from the standards of the past, thereby setting a new template and pushing the high-water mark up the wall a few extra feet. To truly be an icon, they must influence subsequent processes and inspire a new thread in motorcycle design; one-off machines that immediately fade into obscurity won’t do. They can be new standards of beauty, or of performance, or of chassis design, or templates for hitherto untried categories (or some combination of all four). These motorcycles are often the product of years of research and countless design hours, produced by multi-billion dollar corporations that can afford to take a risk once and a rare while. They are not often produced by a tiny boutique manufacturer that has built less than a thousand machines, conceptualized by men who were not classically trained “designers” with decades of experience under their belts.

Image courtesy Brian Case

The Confederate Wraith was one such icon of that emerged from Southern Louisiana like a thundering slap in the face to all that the motorcycle industry held dear. It was an absolute break with tradition, a bold insult to the long-held standards of a conservative industry, and a new way of conceiving of the motorcycle that was unlike anything that had preceded it. It was a product of looking forward while respecting history, a curious mixture of old and new ideas blended into a stunning machine that was as brutal as it was intelligent.

Hunwick Hallam / Hunwick Harrop - Aussie Innovation

Photo Courtesy Richard James

There has been a remarkable amount of innovation in motorcycle design that has come from Down Under. Australian and New Zealander designers and tinkerers seem to have a particular penchant for crafting some of the most interesting and forward-thinking machines the world has seen, all in isolation from the existing networks. These clever displays of ingenuity often seem driven by a variety of factors – perhaps it is their distance from existing industries, or their down-home ingenuity brought on by that isolation from the rest of the world, and more than likely it is their strong fondness for all things loud and fast. One company came to the fore in the late 90s with the promise of putting an Australian-made motorcycle on the world stage, with a radical clean-sheet design that made the rest of the industry take notice. The Hunwick Hallam almost single-handedly kickstarted an Australian motorcycle industry that would have dusted the competition the road and the track, but the realities of the market would doom it to obscurity.

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.

Fischer MRX - Korean-American Supersport

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Lets say you want to buy a middleweight twin-cylinder sportbike. Think for a moment of how many options you have. No, not the Ducati 848 – that would have been in the Superbike category up until Ducati had the racing rulebook changed. The Kawasaki Ninja 650 and its SFV650 competition from Suzuki are hardly sportbikes, targeted as they are at beginning riders and lacking proper suspensions out of the box. Think hard and you’ll realize the twin-cylinder supersport market is virtually nonexistent, despite constant mumblings and half-hearted demands from those shadowy figures simply referred to as “enthusiasts”. For the last 15 years if you wanted a small, light, sweet running (but not overpowered) ‘twin in a nimble chassis, your go-to option was to buy a Suzuki SV650 and promptly upgrade the stock suspension and brakes.

Daniel Fischer saw an opportunity to fill this gap in the market as well as build an American sport bike that could compete with the Japanese at their own game – with good performance, good quality, and good value. The American-made Fischer MRX would be the culmination of several years of trial, error, setbacks, and extensive development. The result was that unicorn that enthusiasts have pined for for many years – a capable twin-cylinder supersport that was appealing but wouldn’t break the bank.

Wakan / Avinton - Franco-American Hybrid

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There is a certain brutish elegance to the act of cramming an impossibly huge engine into a tiny chassis. American designers in particular seem to have an affinity for stuffing air-cooled big twins of the Harley Davidson variety into sporting machines. There is something appealing about the incongruence of seeing a shuddering, massively torquey engine with its acres of gleaming billet and chrome overwhelming the appearance of an otherwise lithe machine. While not common, you do have a few choices if you desire a Big McLargehuge motor in a bike with sporting pretensions. Buell and Ecosse catered to the (admittedly limited) air-cooled-Harley-style-45-degree-twin-in-a-sport-slash-muscle-bike market, while Roehr tried to build a supercharged superbike around a V-Rod engine. If you desired something more inspired that wasn’t a cookie-cutter custom or generic café-styled machine, there was always Confederate. The only notable entrant from overseas was Yamaha, who got into the game with their weird but remarkably tame Warrior-powered MT-01.

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So it only makes sense that a French company would champion the cause of big American cruiser power in a sporty machine while citing Carroll Shelby as a major influence. That would be the plot synopsis of Wakan/Avinton, the oddball muscle-sport-bike that has been produced off-and-on in France since the mid-2000s.

Voxan - Café (Racer) Français

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When you think of big sporting V-twins and café-styled roadsters, what do you picture? Italy and Great Britain maybe - well-groomed Latin men astride thundering sports machines or perhaps greasy-haired rockers congregating outside a bar.

It’s unlikely you’d imagine Issoire, a quaint town filled with medieval architecture situated in the heart of France.

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.

V-Roehr 1130/1250 - The Other, Other American V-Twin Motorcycle

It has an American-made V-Twin (an honest-to-god Harley motor, no less), an advanced chassis, top shelf components, and a distinctly sporty bent, with stunning performance that is far greater than the sum of its parts. It’s built by a clever American engineer working independently to apply his own ideas towards building the ultimate American made sport bike, powered by an apple-pie and Budweiser fuelled motor.

And it isn’t a Buell.

Harley Davidson VR1000 - Thundering American Misfit

This article has been heavily revised to incorporate new information, and can now be found here:

Harley-Davidson VR1000 - "God's own voice."

Apologies for the dead link. - JC

Riding the Legend – The Ducati 916

Author's Note: In 2007 I wrote an article detailing my impressions of the Ducati 916 called "Riding the Legend". I've edited and updated my original piece for the benefit of Odd-Bike.com readers. Enjoy.

 

There aren’t many machines that inspire awe and envy quite as effectively as a Ducati 916 “Campione del mondo Superbike”. In fact there aren’t many machines that become legends before they even got out of the box - such was the case when the 916 was unveiled to the public in late 1993. With development beginning in the late 80s, when the 851 was still the king of the V-twin superbike class, the 916 was destined for greatness in many aspects – design, style, performance, and racing pedigree. Designed from the ground up as a race winner, the 916 was blessed with prodigious performance for the day, and stunning styling penned by Massimo Tamburini and the Cagiva Research Centre. The 916 was achingly beautiful and well ahead of the curve when compared to the portly and conservative styling of contemporary mid-90s sportbikes. Here was a purposeful, clean and perfectly executed machine without compromise introduced into a sea of overweight and ponderous competitors.

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.