ITS DAYS OF DOMINATION ARE long gone, but the Triumph Bonneville can still set the pulse racing. All it takes is a sunny day, fuel in the tank, and a little imagination. With clear tarmac ahead, a twist of the throttle sends the Bonnie shooting forward, its exhaust note hardening and its parallel-twin engine’s vibration becoming increasingly noticeable as the speedometer creeps towards 160 km/h—or 100 miles per hour, the magical “ton”.
Suddenly, it is the summer of 1961, the man on the moon is science fiction, Japanese domination of the motorcycle world seems just as unlikely, and this 650-cc twin is arguably the quickest bike on the roads. Nothing can catch me now! The Triumph thunders on, its rider crouched down with chest over the petrol-tank luggage rack, my unprotected chin behind the friction steering-damper knob at the steering head.
Slowly, the Triumph’s Smiths speedometer needle creeps round the black-faced dial, through 96 mph (155 km/h) to 98 mph (158 km/h), 99 (159), and, finally, 100 mph (161 km/h) itself, still with a little more to come. And
