STARS & STRIPES
It’s tempting fate to even think this, but the Macchi’s motor does indeed purr like that well-fed kitten of fable. Its top end sounds almost silent when compared to the clatter of impending catastrophe which our Triumph 250 Blazer SS emits, even at tickover. Heck, my modern BMW 310 chatters more than the 50 year-old H-D Aermacchi motor.
Instead of sounding like ten bags of spanners, the American-Italian 350 gives out a gruff thrum from the engine room and a steady bop-bop-bop from its twin pipes as it idles. Twist the grip and that bopping becomes the kind of enthusiastic barking from behind which is such a glorious component of the classic experience. It’s all really rather inspiring.
In fact, it inspired me to head off the straight and narrow and down one of those Devon lanes where big fat modern rubber would be a total disaster. A brown tourist sign suggested that the Tamar Lakes lay thataway. We live just the other side of the border which the Tamar River represents, so what could possibly go wrong? With a full tank of E5 and a bike that (praise be!) started on the button, we bop-bop-bopped back around the petrol station forecourt, making the most of the Macchi’s wide bars and light steering to reverse direction, feet up, and take the turn less travelled.
It helps that the 350’s handling is enhanced by the low-slung position of the single cylinder engine. It’s laid horizontal and mounted with the crankcases all the way back beneath the rider, putting the bike’s centre of gravity somewhere near Australia.
Together with an extended wheelbase, this gives the 350 the odd combination of
