The bike’s builder, Norton specialist Mick Hemmings, tickled the MK1 Concentrics, switched on the ignition, and with the machine on the main stand gave it a measured forceful swing. Result? Silence.

For the second attempt Mick depressed the kick start lever close to horizontal before starting his swing. He reckons that this technique reduces the possibility of kickback. But there was still no hint of cooperation from the engine.

A third swing. RUMBAAAAaaa! The mighty parallel twin burst into life with that snarling, powerful soul-stirring blast that peashooter ‘silenced’ Commandos emit, rattling the workshop windows and  provoking a satisfied grin from Mick. It sounded as healthy and as powerful as any road-going British twin can.

A few days later, and with the bike now in possession of a MoT certificate, I was back at the Hemmings’ workshop for the eagerly awaited road test. Mick had ridden the bike across town to get the MoT, but to be its first run on the open road.

The Commando was wheeled out of the workshop, the carburetors tickled, and  this time it fired first kick under Hemmings‘ right leg. Impressive.

The sound of the Norton brought building workers out of nearby site doorways to savour the noise and watch Mick make some adjustments to improve the idle.

The sun was shining and I was looking forward to a relatively restrained ride at running-in speeds on some of my favorite Northampton shire back roads.

Fortunately Mick had other ideas. “Don’t be afraid to give it a decent thrashing,” he confidently grinned as I climbed aboard. With the prospect of a pleasant dawdle turning into a full blooded burn-up I wasn’t about to argue with him.

Wide and handsome thanks to its western- style bars, this example isn’t too high because

it’s fitted with a cut down seat that was originally used on a production race bike. The low seat height suited me and I was able to settle in fairly quickly to deal with Northampton town traffic.

The diaphragm spring clutch gives a relatively light and smooth action — a real improvement over previous Norton twins — and the gearbox changed faultlessly. It felt like a new bike, which in effect it is.

Out on the open road the true benefit of the Commando with its rubber-cushioned engine was apparent. Vibration all but isolated thanks to the Isolastic mountings, the Commando could be cruised at any sensible speed in comfort.

I soon discovered that Mick’s confidence in the freshly built motor was well founded. The engine was willing to rev and it gave no hint of protest. Obviously I wouldn’t ride a new engine flat out, and there were no plans for speed testing. But this was an opportunity to sample the torque and power of the vertical twin without revving it too hard.

At high cruising speeds the wide bars are hard work. And at speed Commandos have a tendency to feel slightly light at the front with a disposition to oscillate at the steering head. This bike was no exception, despite it being on modern Avon tyres.

The buyer of this machine has specified an 18in rear rim rather than the standard 19M item to allow a wider tyre choice. Mick argues that steering is best with 19in rims sharpness; the modern rubber does give confidence in corners and under braking. Because the Commando has real presence and because it makes such a glorious noise, you find yourself getting rather carried away. But with those wide bars it becomes wearing pulling against the wind and you eventually find yourself easing back… until you get bored that is, and off you go with another burst of speed! The customer has asked for lower bars to be fitted, and various other detail changes, before he takes delivery.

Ninety miles later I was back at flick’s Northampton workshop. “How was it?” he inquired, raising an amused eyebrow when told that I’d seen 100mph on the clock. Perhaps he hadn’t expected me to take his running in advice quite so literally.

Many of us regard the Norton Commando as the most practical of the classic British vertical twins for modern traffic conditions and distance riding. And this scratch-built conglomeration of components confirms the Commando’s status as such.

Any niggles? Well, the dumpy grips are not to my taste. I also found throttle action rather gritty, the rear brake weak, and the front twin leading shoe Tickle brake good on first application but prone to fade.

But overall this 1970 Roadster is a fine machine and proof that a bike that is carefully built from parts can end up as a fantastically integrated machine.