Nor is the man who put his name to this beast. Lord Thomas Alexander. Fermor-Hesketh, an eccentric aristocrat with a passion for things fast and mechanical, ploughed his hefty inheritance into designing and building the V1000 in the early Eighties. A more British venture you’d be hard pushed to find.

Hesketh, and the press, built the 511000 up as the bike that would save the British motorcycle industry. Sadly it was destined to fail.

David rocks the Hesketh off its main stand, turns both fuel taps to on (it uses one for each cylinder), feeds in a touch of choke and fires the 992cc V-twin into life. Oh, what a sound. The flat rhythmic booms from the Hesketh’s pipes sound like two Brit singles competing for attention. It’s an extraordinary exhaust note and quite unlike an Italian V-twin.

As I lean forward to the bars, the seat’s so wide it splays my legs, losing me two inches in height, so reaching the floor is harder than it would normally be. For anyone smaller it’d be a struggle.

One advantage for someone 6ft-plus is long- distance comfort. Once settled in, I feel as though I could sit there all day. Some owners do, covering huge mileages in one hit. That’s the Hesketh’s true

forte. It’s a grand tourer; the two-wheeled equivalent of a Jag, without the walnut dash and leather trim. When riding a Hesketh, planning ahead is essential. Its no good tramping along in the hope that you’ll be able to react to bends, roundabouts and other obstacles in your path. This is not a bike that executes split-second decisions.

So I make it my mission to seek out its favored territory: smooth, winding A-roads. It’s not long before we find our quarry. Time to stretch the V1000’s legs.

I steal a glance at the speedometer. We’re doing 80mph — very comfortably it must be said — at 4200rpm. As I wind on the throttle, in top, the speedo flashes its way past a ton.

Given enough road she might show 120mph, but I don’t want to rely on the Brembo brakes. They lack power and feel and are simply not up to stopping a bike of this size. New pads, lines and fluid would improve things.

One thing that doesn’t need improving is the ride quality. It’s excellent. Top quality Marzocchi suspension shields the rider from jolts and shakes that might otherwise be brought on by bumps and undulations in the road. Stability, too, is superb.

Away from the fluid rhythm of the A-road the Hesketh requires more input. For every mile of road, we’re faced with at least three bends. The bike’s 19in front wheel and lengthy wheelbase accentuate the heavy steering. And under steer is my unwelcome companion as I exit every corner. The bike’s out of its comfort zone and it’s letting me know.

When the V1000 was launched its notch gearbox was criticized, but as I snick another ratio on David’s bike I wonder what all the fuss was about. Five hours in and I haven’t missed a gear.

Heskeths have long been misunderstood. Sure they had their foibles when launched, but a fully- sorted example, like this, is a different proposition altogether. It doesn’t burn any oil, leak any fluid or crunch any gears. And it’s a pleasure to ride.

Hesketh’s intention was to build a high quality British bike. This sorted example at last lives up to that ideal. And that, given the marque’s troubled past, is a very big deal indeed.

1. Re-check that all nuts and boils are tight, especially wheel spindie nuts.

1. Check that all earth connections are tight.

1. Check that you have sufficient fuel, that-it is getting to the carburetors but that it isn’t leaking from any unions.

1. Test carburetor action to make sure the slides fully close with the throttle shut and the handlebars in any position.

1. Check all oil levels.

1. Test brake action and adjustment.

1. Check tyre pressures.

1. Check chain tension and spring clip security.

1. Wheel the machine to make sure nothing is rubbing or binding.

1. Turn bars from lock to lock to make sure no cables snag or become tight.

1. Make sure all electrical components are working properly.

1. Pack tools so you can adjust the breaks and carburetor(s) if necessary during the shakedown run.

1. Take a mobile phone, failure to do so will guarantee that you’ll need it.

1. Following your inaugural test ride, go over the machine and check nuts and bolts for tightness and look for any leaks.

1. On return, treat yourself to a beer and start planning the bike’s first big trip.

What it is:

Kawasaki’s immortal Z1 engine, bored-out, in a variety of tweaked and restyled guises. Early models were slower than the 900s; later examples were faster. Not as desirable as a Z1/900, but benefits from a much improved chassis and brakes. Far, far cheaper too.

Others in its family tree:

Original Z1/900. The MKII Z1000 was slab-sided, pokier and available with chain or shaft drive. Z1-R was the sporty off-shoot. J models were designed for proddie racing, but can be unreliable. Several hideous custom/cruiser variants saw the light of day too.

It’s good because:

Unrivalled pedigree, still commands respect, incredibly strong, excellent parts back-up.

It’s bad because:

Z purists sneer and ask why you didn’t buy a Z1.

Other Alternatives:

Absolutely nothing else has the Big Zed’s reputation, but a Suzuki GS-1000 is actually a better bike

What it is:

Sporty Z1000 with more power, slab-sided styling, bikini fairing and four-into-one exhaust. Never that popular because of its distinctive looks and tiny fuel tank (bigger 3.5 gallon option appeared on later models). Handles little better than a stock Z1000.

Others in its family tree:

Essentially every Z-prefixed four-cylinder Kawasaki. The maddest and baldest of them all was the semi-official turbo­charged Z1-R. Made and sold in the US only, it made a claimed 145bhp, whistled past 150mph with ease and handled like a hinge. Bonkers.

It’s good because:

It looks good – really good – and it’s a Big Z, of course.

It’s bad because:

The front brakes are abysmal (there’s a cable link from brake lever to master cylinder!).

Other Alternatives:

Z1000/1100R Eddie Lawson Replica teas Kawasaki’s subsequent attempt at the same thing. Much better in every department.

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.

What it is:

Hugely influential bike, named after a Japanese sword. Looks fantastic and handles better than the stock GSX, on which it was based. Not a big seller in the Eighties due to its cutting-edge looks, but now an acknowledged classic. Starting to get expensive.

Others in its family tree:

Mechanically, it was simply a GSX1100. A rarer 1000cc proddie racer with flatslide carbs was also made – and looks identical. Its distinctive Target Design styling is still used on Japan-only 400cc and 250cc replicas. The 550/650/750 Katanas are pale imitations.

It’s good because:

It does 145mph, handles, stops (just), and its styling gets better and better with age.

It’s bad because:

Bodywork and trim parts are very expensive.

Other Alternatives:

None if you want that combination of performance, ability and looks. Nothing else comes close.

What it is:

One of the greatest bikes. Ever. Fastest production bike in the world when launched. Made large capacity and DOHC technology accessible. Staggeringly beautiful too.

Others in its family tree:

First conceived as a 750 - Japan got a 750cc model, the Z2. Only 30 or so Z Is (all black engines) originally made it to the UK: Z1Bs are more common. This is the root of Kawasaki superbike design.

It’s good because:

It’s an original: one of those once-in-a-generation bikes that moves everything on. And it’s still bloody fast today.

It’s bad because:

The chassis and brakes weren’t up to it, even in 1973.

Other Alternatives:

A Z900 or a Z1000 will be cheaper: and better to ride, but the Z1 is a true motorcycling icon, so what you lose in performance and ride quality is more than made up in sheer kudos

Born in                                  : 1980

Current Machine              : Yamaha

I’m not especially into old bikes, it just love riding bikes – any bikes. I started watching racing in ‘94, so this is a bit early for me.

I was just an itch in my dad’s underpants when this was being raced. He was a bit of a Kenny Roberts fan. He’s been ringing me all weekend asking what the bikes like.

You’ve got to ride it like a 125 motocross bike. You have to be really committed and ride it near the limit the whole time or it just doesn’t want to know. Obviously, that’s quite hard when you’ve had so little time on the bike. Fortunately this is a left foot change with a race pattern, like on my bike, so I didn’t have to worry about a right foot shift.

Ii only makes power when you open it up. The brakes don’t work and it doesn’t handle in the way that our bikes do now. With what they rode then I don’t understand how they got the lap times. This has a really low center of gravity and a light front end; it’s just the total opposite of what we have now.

Kenny is a legend. I spoke to him about the bike at the GP last weekend. He said I’d enjoy it, but he told me to make sure I looked after it. He’ll be glad we kept it in one piece.

Like the first Scout, there are two big exterior pockets that run parallel to the main zipper (which has two tracks so you can close the jacket tightly or a bit looser if you want). These pockets house the Cargo Storage System, and when you zip down the inside perimeter of either pocket you reveal perforated leather for ventilation (the air comes in here and exits out vents in the rear).

This Torso Vent System moves a lot of air quite effectively. Hook-and-loop next to these vents keeps the big pockets closed securely until you want to rip into them. The Cargo Storage System has all kinds of pockets on both sides, and the right side has an elastic lanyard for keys or whatever. There are handwarmer pockets and an interior pocket as well.

Another cool ventilation feature is actually an improvement over the original Scout’s “airscoop” sleeve vents, which were found at the wrists and couldn’t be used if you wore gauntlet gloves. The new Scout has some mesh in the split front sleeve, which you can open for ventilation in hot weather thanks to two-way zippers. For cold weather there’s a snap-in, full-length Thermoliner with a Thermoneck neck warmer (that stores in the liner when not in use). The body of the jacket is 1.2-1.3mm Kwik­Dry water-resistant leather with Powerstretch leather panels for freedom of move­ment, double stitching in key areas and reflective piping in front and back. CE- approved armor is found in the elbows and shoulders, and an optional Temperfoam back pad slides into a zippered internal sleeve.

Fit, ventilation, protection and storage versatility in the Series IV are either equal or superior to my 10-year-old Scout, and the new version has a 10-year warranty.

What it is?

Honda’s first 16-valve four, developed alongside a 750cc version. Its long-stroke engine has plenty of punch, it handles, and even the brakes and suspension are half decent. Nearly as fast as the CBX-6 too. Later models got twin-piston calipers, rubber engine mounts and a fairing.

Others in its family tree : Developed from the ROB endurance racers. The 900 is sandwiched by the bigger CB1100FICB110OR and smaller CB750F.

It’s good because:

CB900s can be bought very cheap, parts are readily available, and 130mph performance isn’t to be sniffed at.

It’s bad because:

Not the strongest engine around (trouble from the strange twin camchain system and bottom end is not uncommon).

Other Alternatives:

CB750F looks similar and is tougher, if slower. GS-1000 looks better and performs just as well, but has a more dated engine.

What it is:

Sports version of Yamaha’s shaft-driven XS1100 tourer, with svelte all-black looks, revised frame geometry, better suspension, and dinky cockpit fairing. Very comfy, very fast, very heavy indeed.

Others in its family tree:

XS750/850 triples. The XS1100 was the guinea pig for Yamaha’s turbo development prior to the technology making it onto the rather limp XJ650T.

It’s good because:

Its shaft driven, the engine’s as tough as old boots, and if you want to tour the stock 1100’s larger tank bolts straight on.

It’s bad because:

The handling really isn’t up to the job. And there’s no chrome to polish.

Other alternatives:

Suzuki GS1000/1100G or Kawasaki Z1000G if you want shaft drive, Kawasaki GPz1100B2 if you prefer chain.

Born in                                  : 1972

Current Machine              : Kawasaki

I’m really into the old stuff, and this is a beautiful thing. It’s a he honor to ride a bike with such a fantastic history. I’ve been a bike since I was three years-old. I might actually have seen this race.

The bike has a lovely feel. It’s really small although it’s a huge reach to the bars, and Mick Grant isn’t a big bloke. It feels like a modern 250. Even the brakes are OK. It’d be nice to get it onto a circuit and give it some proper well.

It doesn’t matter how much power a four stroke has, they’re not going to be as much fun as a two-stroke. When you go from 40bhp to 140bhp to nothing, in 2000rpm, it makes it really exciting to ride. And the noise – it must be the loudest bike here.

I rode an old Suzuki RG5004 at the post-TT in 2000, I loved it. I tried to buy one. And I’ve still got a BSA Lightning Clubman I Use on the road. I take my girlfriend on the back, go to the pub and then get fish and chips on the way back. Don’t need to put all your leathers on, just a jacket and helmet. It’s a nice release from the pressure of racing.

What it is:

Careful copy of the Kawasaki Zl engine installed in the best big- bike chassis of the era. Murdered the Z-1000 on road and track. Can be tuned to produce monster power with little loss of longevity.

Others in its family tree:

Developed from the GS750. S model got two-tone paint and dinky BMW-esque cockpit fairing. G model was the hefty shaft- drive tourer. GS850 was only available as shaft drive and is (a bit) lighter and more manageable than the 1000G.

It’s good because:

You’ve got a reasonable chance of coming out of a fast corner on the correct side of the road. Good reliability, too.

It’s bad because:

If you want an air-cooled big-cube Suzuki the GSX1100 is better. The GS’s charging system isn’t up to much either.

Other Alternatives:

GS850G if you want the shaft drive, GSX1100 otherwise.

What it is:

Sleeker styled version of Suzuki’s first big 16-valve plain-bearing four, the GSX1100. Unrivalled combination of power, torque, comfort and handling. An automatic choice for production and drag racers alike because the engine can be tuned and tuned.

Others in its family tree:

The 1100 was also available with small cockpit fairing, full fairing, and in Katana trim as an 1100 and a rare 1000.

It’s good because:

It’s very powerful very strong, was around for ages so parts availability is good, and is easily tuned. Lighter than some, too.

It’s bad because:

The electrics are rubbish. And it’s one of the ugliest things to roll off a production line. Ever.

Other alternatives:

Kawasaki GPz1100, if you throw away its fuel injection system. Buy a Honda CB1.100R if you want something for the track.

Current Machine              :Suzuki GSV-R MotoGP

I started racing in ‘98 and I’ve never ridden a bike older than that until today, but I really like old cars and getting the opportunity to ride the actual bike that Barry won his first 500 GP on is a real honor. I went to Barry’s house in Queensland. He had lots of his old race bikes there; it was fantastic. It’s really interesting to see how the technology has moved on.

I met Barry in ‘99 and he really helped my career in 2000 and 2001. I’m really pleased that I got the offer to ride his bike; there was no way that I was going to refuse.

There are no brakes – I bet they were state of the art then – and there’s a lot of flex in the chassis. It goes from nothing to lots of power to nothing, I bet they were bloody hard to race. It’s my first time with a right foot shift and I usually ride with a road pattern gear shift. In one corner I changed up a gear when I wanted to brake. It got a bit interesting.

I have ridden two-strokes. I raced Suzuki RGV250s in 1998, but I didn’t expect this bike to be as fast as it is. The noise is very cool. Real two-stroke race bike noise. Our bikes are loud, but this is something else.

In truth this short retrospective is as much about the men in the British motorcycle industry as the machines in those years between 1936—the foundation of the Triumph Engineering Company Ltd.—and 1973, when Norton Villiers absorbed Triumph. Names like Edward Turner, Jack Sangster, Bert Hopwood, Jack Wickes—they were as important in the 1950s as Soichiro Honda and Willie G. were in the next generation.

Back in the early 1930s Sangster owned the Ariel motorcycle company. In 1936 he bought the Triumph motor­cycle business, putting his Ariel employee, Ed Turner, in charge. He gave Turner a small office and an assis­tant, designer Bert Hopwood, and an assistant’s assistant, one Jack Wickes, who as a 16-year-old in 1931 had got­ten a job at Triumph and learned to wield a nice pencil in the blueprint department. Within a year the three of them came up with the 5T Speed Twin, a 27-horsepower, 500cc vertical twin that looked lean and sporty. It got the public’s attention. Success begets suc­cess, and two years later a faster ver­sion, the 33-horsepower Tiger 100 appeared—the 100 signified the speed that the Tiger was reputed to reach.

Then the war came along, and Sangster sold the Ariel division to BSA in 1940. In 1942 Turner, a feisty fellow, got in a fight with Sangster, quit, and went to work at BSA. Only to come back the following year. The war ended and Triumph returned to the business of building motorcycles, adding the 350cc 3T to the two 500s. Then Turner got in a fight with Hopwood, who left and went to Norton, where Hopwood devel­oped another vertical twin.

Turner liked to think of his motorcycles as gentlemanly transportation, for gents who wanted power, comfort and elegance. The infa­mous sprung hub provided a little more comfort, and expanding the engine to 650cc gave more power. Sitting down with Wickes and a blank sheet of paper resulted in a nacelle covering the head­light, providing a place to put the speedometer, ammeter and ignition switch, which resulted in the 1949 Thunderbird 6T Power was apparently a secondary consideration for Turner. Yes, they had made a GP version of the 500 for a couple of years in 1947 and 1948, but Turner did not really like the racing side of the business. A do-it-yourself race kit, with the Delta dual-carb cylinder head and hot cams, was available for the T100 in 1951. That was the same year that BSA acquired the Triumph Company.

In 1956 Sangster took over the BSA group, and put Turner in charge of developing and designing Triumph, BSA and Ariel motorcycles. Are you keeping all these names straight? The U.S. market, which consumed the biggest portion of the Triumph factory’s output, always wanted more power; it provoked the advent of the 650cc, 42- horsepower Tiger 110, soon followed by the sporty-looking TR6, having no nacelle but a separate Speedo, tach and chromed headlight. At the same time Turner and Wickes were working on a new 350, the ideal commuter bike. The TwentyOne (for cubic inches) was in the 1957 line, having a very nice unit-con­struction 350cc engine, with gearbox backed up against the crankcase, sim­plifying the primary drive. The bore was 58.25mm, stroke, 65.5mm, for 349cc and 18.5 horsepower at 6,500 rpm. But it certainly lacked any sense of sportiness, as the front fender looked like a skinny helmet, the rear wheel half hidden by the two skirted panels which looked, to the unfocused eye, like a small upside-down bath. Anyone wanting the complete package could opt for the handlebar fairing and leg shields. A very gentlemanly ride, obvi­ously thought Turner, though the derisory English moto-press was fond of referring to gents wearing skirts.

For the 1959 model year the 350 (renamed the 3TA) was bored out to 69mm, creating 490cc, and the 500 5TA Speed Twin appeared, also with the ‘tub, claiming 27 horsepower. One should not blame just Turner and Wickes for overdressing their bikes; Philip Vincent had signed his motorcycle’s death warrant with the ill-advised 1955 Series D, which had full coverage from handlebars to taillight. Under Turner’s watch the 1958 Ariel Leader was com­pletely enclosed as well. Enclosure was a buzz-word among a few misguided members of the British motorcycle industry; this was the two-wheeled ver­sion of the Austin Seven. Somebody for­got to tell them that people who wanted cars bought cars, and people who wanted motorcycles wanted sport.

The American dealers were aghast. When Coventry began putting the bath­tub on the Thunderbird and the Tiger 110, it was quickly taken off at U.S. dealers. A breath of fresh air came in 1961 when Hopwood returned to Triumph, only to find that Turner was pushing hard for the enclosed Tina motorscooter— which was a sales flop. Even the sporting T100 suffered some enclosure of the rear wheel, though to a lesser degree than the 5TA. By 1962 Sangster had resigned his BSA chair­manship, and his successor had his own ideas; Turner was well aware that he was being none-too-gracefully squeezed out, and when he retired in 1964 the skirts went with him.