THE WAY TO GO COMMANDO
I blame that chap Westworth for this. Even though Norton’s Commando has impressed me since seeing a shiny green Fastback pop an unexpected wheelie in the late 60s, I couldn’t see myself owning one. Just a little too much bike to handle and a reputation for trouble. No, my excellent 650 Triumph will do just fine thank you very much. At least that was my thinking until I saw Frank’s immaculate Mk3, Electric Start 850 gleaming in the Cornish sunshine.
It looked gorgeous. Say what you like about the Commando, they really got that part right, and there’s no harm in looking, is there? My mistake was to take up the offer of a ride, a slippery slope if ever there was one. Starting on the button, then a brisk run around the local lanes left me smitten by the strong engine, comfort, easy handling, real brakes and, well the whole package.
Smitten or not, I was aware of the ups and downs of owning a bike waggishly but not inaccurately described as: ‘a brilliant but deeply flawed motorcycle.’ This had less to do with bad design than senior management being more concerned with inter-company rivalries and settling old scores than making a world beating motorcycle. Norton’s engineers knew what was needed but had limited scope to implement changes. This sad tale is related by Steve Wilson in his book: ‘Norton Motor Cycles from 1950 to 1986’. Tony Page in RC71 defined his Commando as the ultimate classic bike: ‘...it has to do everything well and be the bike that I lust after while gazing at it in the sunshine or rain despite already owning it.’ Or as the Frank himself puts it in RC76: ‘Some motorcycles just make a chap want to ride.
