Earned a beer

I'm no great drinker, but somedays you really feel like you've earned a cool tinny. Fitting the oil pipes and cooler to the 911 turned out not to be the work of a moment. More accurately, it was the work of a fortnight.

I faced a number of 'challenges' (as us rank amateur car restorers like to call major SNAFUs) to do with attaching 30 year old used parts to a car that didn't have them fitted in the first place. Firstly I had to enlist help to get the remains of the flexible oil hoses off the solid hoses, and galvanic corrosion between the steel pipe fixings and the aluminium diverter valve meant another £300- into Porsche's coffers for a new one. It also took me ages to find the correct adaptor for the oil cooler to replace the one I'd butchered freeing it from the old pipes.

Fresh aluminium gently reacting with steel

Attaching the pipes and cooler without the benefit of the brackets, fittings and holes Porsche thoughtfully provided on the 911S and RS models (the ones with front oil coolers from new) took a number of goes and (oh the shame) a visit to B&Q for the necessary hardware. 

B&Q's contribution; coach bolts

I used 50mm coach-bolts to fit the three shaped clamps under the sill, taking the positions from a photo of a un-messed with 2.7RS. I used a modified galvanised heavy duty shelf bracket to support the bottom of the oil cooler, and made a mild steel bracket (well, several, actually) to support the cooler at the top. There are metal/rubber bobbins at both points to protect the cooler from vibration.

The Mk7 oil cooler mounting bracket

The one fixing that was on the car. Thanks Ferdinand.

Oddly, the captive bolt needed to support the pipes as they run under the rear wheel arch had been fitted when the car was built, and had spent 40 years sitting quietly waiting to fulfil its reason for existence.  Oversight? Standardised assembly? In any case, it's now reached the top of Maslow's triangle, fulfilled and holding up the two pipes it was born for.

One week in, all flattering to deceive.

Early 911s have two batteries, each held in boxes let into the front inner wing. The right hand one sits about where the oil cooler should go, so as I didn't want to make any changes that couldn't be reversed at some point, I had to fit the cooler in front of it. 

It took many goes at getting the oil pipes in the right place without interfering with the wing, and at the same time placing it as close to the battery box as I could to stop any fouling on the tyres. 

Sufficient clearance around the tyre

That box does stop a clear airflow to the cooler from the horn grills under the headlight, but I reckon its going to be much more effective at keeping the expensive engine happy than not using one. Airflow from the front of the car into the wheel arch is turbulent in any case - spinning road wheels cause a build up of high pressure under the arch in all closed wheel cars.

Finally, after many, many test fittings the assembly was fitted.  As an afterthought I fitted the front wing. 

Its all looking a bit more car-shaped. 

The beer was good. 

SS7

A Very Sensible Hatchback

'Fast' is a very relative term. On a horse, 25mph is exhilarating while 500mph in a 747-400 all the away to Australia is literally soporific. Nearer the ground, I'm looking forward to being re-united with my Porsche 964 soon, its brawny 3.6litre engine punches out 250bhp, quicker than most cars on the road and capable of pushing the 911 to 160mph. But I was reminded how things have moved on since 1990 by a recent try in a 5 door hatchback.

I have a vague recollection of handing over my details to a cutie on BMW's magnificent edifice at the Goodwood Festival of Speed last July and asking about their 135i. There has been something of a buzz about the M-Light version of their visually challenged hatchback and I was curious enough to want to try one. Ever since then a persistent salesman from my nearest dealer has been on my case. He called me again recently and announced that he was able to offer me a car at a "silly price" so I thought I'd go along and waste some of his time.

I dug out some decent clothes and turned up at the dealership promptly at the agreed 11am. The forecast was for a bit of precipitation so I took the Golf, not the bike. At least that meant I was able to put some light go-faster shoes on - all the better for stepping lightly on an over-servoed brake pedal. 

There were a couple of new 1-Series sitting in the showroom when I arrived, so while the salesman was girding his loins for our encounter and the pleasant receptionist was rustling up a cappuccino, I had a good look around. I suspect this most recent iteration of BMW's smallest is a bit bigger than the 130i I looked at buying a few years ago. Unlike that car (which I remember as being an almost completely pointless four doored two seater) this has near Golf space in the rear with the front seat in 'my' position - and I'm a lanky six foot one-and-a-bit on a good day. As expected the boot is shallow - what with a diff and multi-link rear suspension set up under the floor 'n'all, but the five doors would be a practical plus over the somewhat limiting three of my own Golf. At least that upside banana 'character line' under the doors has been banished - I always thought it made the car look as if its spine had been fractured - but even without that obvious flaw the 1-series remains slab sided and moonfaced.

Inside, the steering wheel is a big chunky for my tastes, while the dash architecture is generic BMW - functional, classy and with some nice details. As some compensation the road wheels are relatively sensible 18's. BMW have even finally binned the inadequate sliding calliper brakes of 'M' cars in the past for a decent 4-pot set up in a fetching shade of blue. 

The two cars in the showroom were laden with options; both had the 8 speed autobox that Chris Harris likes, a £2k nav system and a load of 'convenience' doo-dahs for people who are unable to operate their own wipers & lights or park(or change gear...). However, in contrast to BMWs of old the standard level of kit is generous and includes such niceties as Xenon lights, a large screen+mouse interface, a DAB radio and dual zone climate control. 

Sadly, this generosity extends to the nasty Dakota leather that also comes as standard - presumably this reflects UK buyers' misguided preference for dead cow skin under their backsides. 

There is no cloth option.
  

After a half decent cup of coffee (it wasn't as nice as the one Porsche Portsmouth give me when I pop in to buy four quids worth of parts) the determined salesman and I went out in their demonstrator, a black 5 door with that 8-speed autobox. Mr Persistent went first, demonstrating a nicely refined BMW approved driving style; 45mph through the village's 30 limit, binary pedal technique, seat nice and high, and a good arm's stretch to the steering wheel for the 'full Stirling' driving position.

At the handover I levered the seat to the floor, pulled the fat wheel into my lap and raked the seat's back up. Much better.

First impressions were dominated by the variable assisted steering rack; turning out of the handover car-park and the steering lock was noticeably not directly related to my input -  the car adding exponentially more lock the further I turned the wheel. Not really very re-assuring and I ended up zigging and zagging down the road until I got dialled in. The assistance is of the electrical variety, and like some many of these systems it really only appeals to drivers who think steering 'feel' means how the your fingertips like the cheap leather covering the rim. Any connection with the road surface that allows to you judge grip and balance is almost entirely missing. 

The first few miles were busy 'A' road and second impressions were of a controlled but acceptable ride - even on the standard 18inch run flats - and a refined, even hushed lack of noise. In Comfort mode (alternatives are Eco and Sport - more later) the changes were smooth and plentiful as the box hunted for the highest possible gear. However, unlike my Golf's DSG system, it was willing to drop a gear or two (or three or four..) at a slight prod of the gas pedal.

After a while we turned onto the fast sweepers of the dualed A24 north of Worthing, and as the road opened up I pushed my right foot to the stop.

Feck me.

BMW claim 320bhp, but my seat of the pants dyno tells me they're telling porkies. There's a lot of accelerator pedal travel, but get it anywhere near the floor and it feels almost as quick as the 991 I 'owned' for a week last year. I wouldn't be at all surprised if the thing grunts out well over 350bhp, meaning it would be knocking on the door of 170mph without the limiter. I wasn't about to confirm this on the A24 but 3 figure speeds were horribly easy to achieve, all accompanied by a delicious yowl from the straight six that's only partly synthesised through the car's ICE system. This is some sensible family hatchback.

It was also pretty easy to waft along at normal motorway speeds, but after a few miles I left the open spaces of the A24 and joined a familiar A road heading back south towards Angmering. In 'Sport' mode the ECU delivers sharper throttle response and quicker changes,  responding rapidly to commands from the paddles either side of the wheel. In fact I suspect BMW have engineered a little 'thump' into the system just like the faux racers from Maranello. 

The steering still felt a little numb, definitely the weakest part of the dynamic equation. I suspect traction in anything but perfect conditions would also be a challenge; even in the dry, more aggressive use of the available torque produced flickers from the ASC light on the dash as the car went light over brows and lumps in the road. In fact, the chassis seemed not quite up to the standards of the drive-train. It lacked an ability to flow over a road like the best fast cars; as the pace increased the body moved around more than felt comfortable, affecting my confidence to push very hard. Poorly specified damping? Lack of suspension travel? Mind you, even at 8/10ths we were travelling at speeds I wouldn't like to have to justify to a member of Sussex's finest. 

On the upside it was lovely to feel the balance of a rwd chassis again; get all the braking done before the corner, turn in and pour on the power and there's no sign of the Gti's perennial understeer - in fact  the little Beemer seemed to pivot gently through neutral into a slight oversteer attitude before the blinking light cut the power - I suspect any attempt to turn the electronic stabilisers off might have been greeted with some resistance by my now strangely subdued company.

A bit more of this and we were back at the dealership. I'd nearly forgotten the pushy salesman  but as I popped to the loo (its an old man thing) I overheard him discussing our little test drive which appeared to have left something of an impression. I sympathise, I'm a poor passenger and I'd hate to be at the mercy of any test pilot who came into my showroom - especially one who fancied themselves as a wheelman/woman. I did apologise, and he claimed to have experienced much worse - in fact he was charmingly complimentary.

Sadly I then had to put up with a lot of sales bullsh*t over the price. The stock cars are not the strippers I'd specify at £30k, but fully dressed £38k jobs. A lot of money for a 5-door hatch, even one that's borderline ballistic. Even at the 10% discount he inferred might be do-able - without much prompting on my part. While I *might* just have a word with myself at £27k, at a lot more than that I'll hang fire and buy one on a couple of years.

On the other hand, if any of you want Cayman performance with hatchback practicality and understated looks I give you a shortlist of one. Oh, and I'd tick the box that removed the M135i badge and replaced it with a 116i one.

SS7

Eight weeks….

Well I must admit, even by my standards it's been a while. The muse had abandoned me for nearly six months, but as spring settles in Sussex here we are again. So I thought I let you have, dear forgotten reader, an idea of where I've got to with the old 911's light refresh.

Old 911 sitting on its dolly tries to eat mechanic

Before winter set in last year the car came off the metal dolly used to move it about when just a shell and landed back onto its wheels.

Back on its wheels again after blast-cleaning and the application
of lots of lovely Gulf Blue paint

The suspension set-up now includes the new Bilstein Sport dampers, turbo-specification track rod ends, standard anti-roll bars front & rear, and big fat hollow 28mm Elephant Racing rear torsion bars. I've also replaced all of the bushes with stiffer SuperPro polyurethane. It was a shame the latter wasn't done by the specialist who had the car when I first had it - the rear set in particular were in a bad way. The standard brake callipers were rebuilt - one replaced when it was seen to be cracked - and with uprated pads, race-spec fluid and a trick pedal box should give power and feel.  

The engine takes up residence in a DDK workshop

Bigger holes; six of them. New JE pistons and cylinders with an 86mm bore
 will give a small increase in capacity (up from 2.3 to 2.5litres) and added 'zing'

My original intention was to replace the engine with a larger unit from a later model, but a re-think was forced on me over the winter. Partly this was because expensive mechanical disaster overtook the 'other Porsche', and partly because steadily rising values of old 911s are dependent on their having the original engines in place. I was also helped immensely by the offer of help from some DDK mates with a re-build. 

The challenge with the 1973 2.4T's engine is that firstly the specification was changed to make it cheaper to build, and secondly it was Porsche's first effort to meet newly introduced US emission regulations by adopting the K-Jetronic fuel injection system. The result is a motor that, while under-stressed and delivering of good mid-range performance, has little of the early car's zingy top end. Mine also suffered from a poorly maintained injection system. 

After much debate, the engine committee has agreed on an approach that keeps the original engine in place, but adds missing 'zing' while keeping a tight rein on expenditure. I was lucky in one respect, when the old motor was dismantled it was discovered to be in excellent condition; there was very little sign of wear to any of the major revolving bits. So good was it, that we've decided to take the calculated risk of leaving the bottom end untouched.  The smoke that plagued me when on the motorway was the usual air-cooled problem; a couple of fairly minor leaks caused oil fumes to get into the heating system, resulting in a smokey interior. In hindsight I was doubly lucky that my earlier efforts to sell the engine were unsuccessful.

The recipe will include high compression pistons in slightly larger bored barrels, camshafts from a 2.4E, heads that will be gas flowed and have the ports opened up, fat PMO carburettors and, should budget allow, a less restrictive exhaust.  With a bit more luck that lot will deliver plenty of zing and knock on the door of 200bhp. Oh, and my run of good fortune extended to the gearbox, wear was limited to the synchromesh on 3rd gear, which meant the re-build was about as straightforward (and cheap - although that's only in context of old Porsche prices) as a 915 re-build gets.

Heater, tank and wiring

Meanwhile I continued to bolt all of the bits that were being stored around the house back onto the car. All of the wiring is in place, the dashboard and instruments are fitted, the heating system is in and the fuel tank now sits back in the front. Which was good as the thing was a perishing nuisance to find a place for.

The superbly fitted headlining and 10kgs of sound deadening

The latest area of focus is on the interior. I used many, many coats of POR15 to protect the floor and vulnerable areas around the rear seat wells and parcel shelf. To replace the sound deadening that I removed, I installed a good few kilograms of bitumen-based sheet around the interior, including the roof. The aim is to cut down noise without encouraging more corrosion in the longer-term, and many, many cans of Dinotrol have been exhausted down hidden box-sections to help that cause. 

With some more help from the DDK crew, the headlining (white now - to lighten the interior) was installed and carpet is on order. When I found the car in Florida the interior was a horrible concoction of cheap after-market man-made materials that emitted the stale smell of oxidising plastic and damp carpet.  I find nothing puts me off a car faster than an interior with a bad odour, so the new one will contain more in the way of natural ingredients.

Looking car shaped with doors and wings

More recently, the panels that made my dining room look like a Porsche dealer's parts department store have found their way back onto the car; doors, sunroof and the wings were test fitted. After more debate I've decided to award the engine's new lease of life with some additional cooling. Oil pipes, cooler and thermostat were sourced via ebay from an mid-80s 911 and they will be fitted to the car. It represents a slight challenge as the spot where the oil-cooler would naturally want to sit is taken up by the early car's battery box, so a fudge will be sought.

Suspension and brake bling and trial fitting the oil cooler pipework

In a few sentences then, that's about where I've got to. Looking back it doesn't seem to represent much for nearly 18 months effort, it surprising how much time you can lose cleaning up bits and pieces, planning the next move, waiting for various specialists to do their thing, and for the weather to improve - a tiny garage means most operations involve wheeling the car outside.

Details, details; the engine shroud after removing the old yellow
paint and revealing dull gel-coat

After several hours with wet and dry

More bling; engine pulley and bonnet latches

The eight weeks? Well, its now the beginning of May, and Classic Le Mans (and boy #1's summer prom) are both in early July. The race is on.

SS7

My life in Golfs

Quick enough, and comfy

This summer, the 7th generation Golf Gti was released. I've not tried one yet (I don't trust myself) but press reports suggest that once again VW have managed to create a car that meets all the expectations of a demanding market; sensible fuel consumption, low emissions, lots of safety equipment, a dose of prestige, high levels of refinement, driver friendly DSG transmission & electric steering, electronically adjustable dynamics, and the connectivity demanded by the iPhone generation. At the same time, poke it with a sharp stick and there's plenty of performance, more than the small power increase would suggest as the adoption of VAG's new all-things-to-all-men MQB platform comes with a big weight saving over its predecessor.  

Performance and comfort; perfect for a middle aged family man like me with the odd ache and twinge, but who still likes to put the pedal to the floor occasionally (when the conditions are suitable and all within the legal limits m'lud).

It occurs to me that the Gti's development over three and a half decades has matched my own driving career.

In 1979 VW launched the Gti version of the Mk1 Golf in right hand drive form. Odd that we don't notice seminal moments until later on, but for UK enthusiasts it was the start of the hot-hatch revolution that came to define the next ten or so years. That Gti weighed a mere 850kgs, and had a wonderfully responsive 1600cc engine, great chassis and terrible brakes. It was a middle-class hooligan. The year was significant for other reasons too; it marked the beginning of near two decades of Conservative rule, there was a Muslim inspired revolution in Iran, the IRA assassinated Lord Mountbatten, Sid Viscous died, and at the tender age of 18 I entered the world of work - complete with brand spanking new driving licence.

Mk1 Golf Gti; perky and good with Pimms

Sadly, a Gti was way out of reach, but within my social sphere there were a few. A generous father bought one for his daughter - a bright young thing who made something approximating  a living catering for smart dinner parties. From time to time I'd find myself squeezed into the back, dawn in the sky, as we returned home from a ball or party, balancing glasses of liberated Pimms or Champagne on our knees and the front seat passenger on steering duty while our driver took another sip.  Possibly the bright young thing and I enjoyed a moment, possibly not, but I'll always remember her Lhasa Green Gti.  My own car, a tired MGB, felt vintage by contrast, I remember an indicated 100mph requiring all three lanes of the M3 when I tried it one quiet winter's evening. 

The Mk2 16v; 139bhp has got to be enough, right?

By the middle of the decade we'd all grown up a bit. In 1983 the mk2 Golf hit the UK's shores. Like me, it too was a bit heavier, a bit more serious, and a bit more sensible. At the time I was working in London, taking the first steps in a career in marketing. I lived in Battersea and had little money left over for expensive cars after rent, beer, and food bills. Black, blue, red or dark green Gti's were ubiquitous in my slice of south London, sitting in summer traffic jams with Everything But the Girl, Aztec Camera or Duran Duran spilling out from the stereo. The VW dealer in Sloane Square must have had a very, very good decade. 

Occasionally a friend borrowed cars for the weekend from the Surrey VW garage where he worked. I remember one Sunday afternoon heading west along the A4 towards Marlborough in a brand new 16v Golf, and being given the opportunity to get behind the wheel. I thought that it (with a full 139bhp) was as fast as any road car needed to be. 

Another time my brother and I hired one for a few days as a treat  for the old man's birthday (we couldn't manage the hire fees of anything more interesting). It had the desired effect though, that Golf re-lit the blue touch paper of our father's long dormant motoring interest, which had long been long subsumed by the need to pay school fees.  Not long after he bought the first of his Porsche 924s.

VW's next effort arrived in the UK in 1993. Like me, it had gone rather soft and pudgy. The Mk3 was produced in the face of a major recession and huge increases in insurance costs for anything that might possiblty be labelled as a performance hatchback. In this hangover from the party decade of the 80's, perhaps the third generation Golf did make sense, but the Gti, especially with the old 8 valve engine, was a long, long way from the perky Gti's of old. 

I bought one. 

Middle aged, overweight, dull.
The Golf I had was pretty good though.

It was a perfect family runaround now that I had one toddler and another baby on the way, and made a practical foil to the Caterhams and 911s that occupied the other half of my double garage. My wife liked that it didn't show complete surrender in the face of demands of motherhood, and while the torquey old 2 litre engine was no ball of fire, it could be persuaded to make decent progress. Ours was dark red, with the air-conditioning system that we suddenly discovered we couldn't possibly live without. 

Later on, two more Mark 3 Golfs entered the fleet; one a lovely low mileage VR6 that was supposed to be a winter hack, but turned out to be too good, the second a hybrid Mark 3 1/2 cabriolet that provided summer fun for a couple of seasons.

It might look dark red, but it was purple
 (with a matching leather interior)

The Mk3.5 cabriolet; for West Sussex summers

By the end of the 90's I was holding down a consultancy job in a marketing services company North of London. I had clients in Yorkshire and Bristol, and as a result needed a comfortable, economical car, that would present a professional image in client car-parks but could also provide family wheels at the weekend. 

Enter the fourth generation of Golfs; my own Gt Tdi was one of the first cars that tried to combine Gti performance with the 50mpg a diesel promised. The quantum leap in interior quality the Mark 4 represented perfectly matched my new found executive status and grown-up tastes. I loved it. In hindsight, everything that made the Mk1 such a brilliant drive had long been developed out of the Golf. 

Red 'i', red 'd'. Middle manager wheels; the Mark 4 with the
115bhp version of the Tdi engine 

A few years later, I found myself starting a well paid nine month gig as a self-employed contractor - the only downside was that the client was located 50 miles away on the other side of the county. So I went on the search for a reliable car that would be able to soak up hours of all-weather commuting but still entertain when the mood took me. It also needed to be big enough cope with two rapidly growing sons and their kit, and present an acceptable image to clients and not remind them too much of my day-rate. The thought of pumping a clutch for more than three hours a day didn't appeal, but my experience of automatics transmissions attached to 4 pot engines in the past had not been happy.  Whatever I ended up with also needed to be economical over the 500 mile a week commute, but I found myself dreading the thought of transit-like clatter on a cold morning, long warm-up cycles and the constant drumming companionship of a 4 pot diesel. I also needed to keep mobile if the weather took a turn for the worse - no work meant no pay - but didn't want a SUV.

Enter my mk5 Gti, complete with a DSG gearbox. Its been perfect;  suitable steel wheels and winter tyres proved to be a revelation when the snows came, and other than replacing the dampers when they became tired, I've not had to lay a spanner on it in 40,000 miles and 3 years. 

Inoffensive all-year round mobility

Its difficult to build a strong case for replacing the car at the moment. Depreciation at 8 years old is now low, mileage is a reasonable 70,000, and the magazines (CAR was the latest) are fingering it for future classic status. Perhaps a growing list of mechanical woes will force an update. If that happens, I wonder what will replace it, 6 or 7?

SS7

911 Killers

It's forty years ago, and Hans is busy in Porsche's Stuttgart factory working on a silver 911T, one of several thousand he has already helped build that year and one of the last of the original shaped cars to roll off the lines. It is nearly the end of July and Hans is looking forward to next month when the factory closes down and he and his workmates will take their three week annual holiday while the toolmakers and production engineers stay on to re-fit the production lines for the new 1974 models - the ones with ugly bumpers and what would turn out to be fragile 2.7litre engines.

As usual, Hans was just putting the finishing touches to the headlining and rear parcel shelf area before starting on the carpets and trim. There's a hollow section running along the bottom of the rear window and before he fits the rear shelf Hans stuffs a fistful of cotton wadding up both of the open ends - all the better to prevent any foreign objects getting in and causing annoying rattles.

Cotton wadding; perfect for destroying Porsches

The car was finished, signed off, and shipped to California where its happy new owner collected it from the dealer and drove off into the sunset.

Over the following few years, the car was cherished, but inevitably the harsh Californian sun worked on the car's rubber and plastic, causing the seals around the windows to harden and shrink. 

In most parts of the world, the car's death warrant had been signed. Rain creeps in under the perished window seals and settles on the steel underneath. In particular, Han's cotton wadding forms a permanently damp compress, keeping the moisture nice and tight against the bare metal and producing a perfect rust nurturing environment. The first thing any owner normally knows about it is when bubbles appear in the metal under the rear window, but most of the damage is hidden under carpets and sound proofing. Left untreated, the whole rear bulkhead can disappear and eventually structural metal around the rear suspension mounts gets eaten away. Before early 911 prices hit the stratosphere that meant another old Porsche for the scrap heap.

The silver 911T Hans worked on in July 1973 was lucky. The dry Californian climate and the owner's habit of garaging the car meant little rain got past the seals and the vulnerable metal stayed rust free.  Over the following decades the car stayed in California before being taken off the road  and becoming someone's RS replica project.   Eventually the car ended up being sold by a dealer in Florida and shipped across the Atlantic back to Europe. After a year of being used for sunny weekend drives, the car was stripped back to the bare body shell.

Last week I pulled the wadding out of the channel and stuffed half a can of Dinotrol Cavity Wax up there instead.

The other fist full

SS7

911 Project Latest

The school holidays mean I've been busy looking after the two boys, but in between day trips and sporting activities and days on the beach I've been able to spend some time on the car.

My first stagegate is to get the car back on its wheels; that means suspension, brakes and various undercar pipes and wires.

Front strut - Tuthill's had already replaced the tired internals with
nice new Bilstein dampers

After much (internal) debate I decided to keep the current brake set-up
for now, however the calipers looked scruffy and seals are sh*gged so
they went off for a re-build.

Rear suspension and brakes on - just waiting for some correct nylocs for the trailing arm and lower damper bolts. The rear dampers are also new Bilsteins. 

Lots of bling. One of the front calipers was scrap - the casting had cracked -
but luckily those nice people at Classic Car Automotive in sunny Macclesfield
who did such a nice job of the rebuild were able to provide a spare

Top mounts. I've replaced all of the suspension bushes
throughout with purple Superpro kit

Al Fresco restoration - as my garage barely big enough to get the
car in, I have to drag the car onto the drive for almost every operation. 

SS7

Is Slow The New Fast?

I was struck by this recent blog post from my mate Chris.  In it, he makes the point that the major motorcycle manufacturers have continued to obsess about speed, producing faster and faster bikes each year, failing completely to realise the implications of the changing demographics of biking. 

Two slow bikes yesterday

He goes on to criticise those same manufacturers for their continued support of the increasingly irrelevant MotoGP circus, pointing out that modern bikers in their 30s, 40s and 50s are increasing unwilling to spend a hot day in a field watching bike racing, and that attendance at GPs will continue to fall.

In Chris' view, this goes towards explaining the huge increase in sales of 'slow' bikes like BMW's GS range, as well as the fast growing interest in resto-mod cafe racers.

I do take his point. Sometime ago I blogged about the futility of the modern superbikes, producing headline power figures that were to all intents and purposes utterly irrelevant for road use. After all, if your 1000cc bike produces its 190bhp at 13,500rpm, and runs gearing that means the bike's speed at the red-line with the throttle pinned is 90mph in first, 112mph in second, 134mph in 3rd, 153mph in 4th, and 169mph in 5th, when is the average-to-competent road rider really going to see more than a small chunk of the power he's paid for? Our society increasingly views high speed as irresponsible and dangerous - its pretty hard to justify 120mph on a country A road as 'perfectly safe' even if you do have 4 more gears to go. 

Those are the real in-gear maximums for a BMW S1000RR by the way.

However, I don't think its a simple as all that. 

For one thing, that is somewhat of a UK-centric view. In someways the UK has long bucked the European sales trend for large naked and enduro bikes. It is something of an anomaly that the machines habitually topping British sales charts were racer-inspired replicas. A visit to my local biker cafe on a sunny Sunday reveals that grey and no-haired bikers still arrive in their scores, leathered-up and astride big, late reg. sports bikes, some with chicken strips as broad as your palm but still having enjoyed the ride. 

What has happened is that the UK is moving to a pattern closer to our continental cousins; 2012's best selling 'proper' bike in Europe by far was the BMW GS, and Triumph's 1200cc Explorer GS-tribute led the UK charts. The only race-reps the top 10 sales lists dominated as usual by 125s and larger scooters were the S1000RR in  Germany and Honda's Fireblade in the UK. 

There may be an element of demographics in play but sales of bikes are heavily affected by economic factors, and European sales are all down. Job insecurity, reduced incomes, and the restriction of credit means the 1.9m motorcycle units shifted in 2006 across the EU had almost halved by last year. Its not surprising that when money's tight a £7,000 naked bike sells better than a  £12,000 race-rep, but roll on a decade of economic growth and those superbikes will still have a market. After all, Rolex still sell watches waterproof to 100m, and your £70k Range-Rover can still ascend a Scottish mountain. 

But right now, it's the economy that is forcing bike manufacturers to change their offerings; Honda's recent fuel efficient NC700 and budget 500s will sell - but because they are cheap to buy and run, not because they don't go fast.

I'm also much more sanguine about the effort manufactures put into MotoGP. I applaud the efforts of Honda, Yamaha and Ducati to build MotoGP prototypes, in much the same way as I love the fact that Mercedes, Renault and Fiat still throw their millions into F1 campaigns. And those MotoGP efforts will still support big sales in the truly big world markets - those in India, Asia and South America, where a powered two wheeler is not just a thrill for Sunday morning ride-outs.  And I think that all it would take to get the crowds piling into the British MotoGP would be a couple of winning Brit riders with the charisma of Simoncelli or Sheene!

One thing that does muddy the water is what has happened to the performance of 'slow' bikes in the last decade. A few weeks ago I spent a couple of hours trying out one of the new watercooled BMW GSs. Not only did it go like hell, but it also handled superbly, and I found myself travelling 10mph faster everywhere. Faintly alarming velocities were an easy wrist twist away - it takes a much more determined effort on my older generation Adventure.

BMW's 125bhp GS. As quick as a ten year old sports bike

When I got home I had a close look at the new GSs performance figures. It turns out that BMW's sensible shoes big enduro/tourer offers the same power as a Ducati 996SP from a decade ago. The GS also has 30% more torque, an utterly dependable chassis, sticky modern tyres and blanket of electronic safety systems, all in a package that weighs within a few kilos of a 996. BMW aren't alone in this - the big Adventure big offerings from Honda and Triumph also serve up big power. 

It turns out that we've embraced 'slow' bikes because they go just as fast as the fast ones used to go. 


Style and the expression of personality is always going to be a big part of riding bikes. Bikers are getting older, and we're all having to be a lot more sensible about money, but for an awful lot of riders, bikes are still about going fast.

Just not as fast as all that.

SS7