The Speedmaster chronicles
FOR ONCE I was sorry not to be travelling on the M7. I have a particular grievance with NSW’s state administrators who seem to think it fair to slug us extra to use a road network that ought to be provided by their sense of duty and our taxes, so for the most part I’ll head west the way I always have: onto Victoria Road, then James Ruse Drive and swing right onto the M4; then, if I’ve timed it right, into the mountains before everyone else gets the same idea.
But this time the traffic lights at Rydalmere failed to match the charm of the M7 as it ducks and weaves its sweeping route past Beecroft and Blacktown. This, I would later discover, is classic going for my new garage occupant, our long-term Triumph Speedmaster.
I collected the bike from Brian Connor’s Brookvale shop. In case you haven’t come across him elsewhere in the mag, Brian is our new tech guru. From his palatial retail premises north of the harbour he services a more diverse range of bikes in a week than I’m likely to ride in a lifetime. He’s passionate, enthusiastic, fiendishly knowledgeable and a good bloke into the bargain. You’ll be reading plenty of his wisdom in yarns to come, both in Cruiser & Trike and in ARR.
But back to the Speedmaster. The first overriding impression was of weight, and plenty of it. At a claimed 229kg dry, the Speedie is a long way short of obese, even in these anorexic times; and, of course, a seat height of just 720mm means you’re not wrestling with a stratospheric centre of gravity. Yet the lazy steering accentuates the impression of weight at low speeds. According to Triumph’s figures, the Speedmaster’s rake is 33 degrees. It’s mated to a 1655mm wheelbase, adding up to a package that’s at its best on two-lane country blacktop.
The Speedmaster feels impressively solid. Part of the overall effect results from the sturdy manufacture of the bike. There’s an impressive volume of metal here. The fuel tank, for example, feels as though it’s made from centimetre-thick steel and about as far removed from the tanks of a few years back — which seemed as though they’d dent if you so much as looked at them hard. The paintwork is a match for it. Again, thick, painstakingly applied and … solid.
Finally, after the stop-go shuffle on the run down to Penrith, I introduced the Speedmaster to the Blue Mountains and began to understand some of the benefits of a sturdy, unhurried and unruffled ride on the gentle roller-coaster up the hill to home base in Wentworth Falls.
At 46kW, the Speedmaster hardly boasts an overabundance of power but has enough for its purposes. And it’s spread evenly, like the butter on the bread your Grandma used to serve up at Sunday teatimes.
A week or so later I struck out on a more thorough investigation of my local turf and learned a little more about my new mount. Running down the Great Western Highway to Penrith and back up the hill via the rather tighter and narrower Bell’s Line of Road confirmed for me this was a bike that liked a relaxed, unhurried kind of existence. Not slow, necessarily, but shorn of all the freneticism so much a part of the deal with more performance-angled machinery. The relaxed feel is enhanced, too, by the bike’s 270-degree firing pattern, which gives a nice V-twin-like offbeat note.
I also felt every bump on the road. True, the Bell’s Line isn’t in the best of repair, but the Speedie bucked hard at both ends when we found the scattering of bumps and ridges the RTA had thoughtfully provided for us. The last time I rode the road, on ARR’s LAMS-approved bikes run back in February, I bounced and jolted my way up the hill on a GT650 Hyosung and came down in cool, unflustered control on Suzuki’s excellent GSX650. In terms of comfort and control, the Speedie performed better than the Hyosung but wasn’t as sweet as the Suzuki. Something to look at sooner rather than later, then: a pair of aftermarket units that’ll offer more initial compliance. Or maybe the Triumph Speedmaster/America riders among our August readership already know better. Have you gone down this road — literally or figuratively? Found any demon fixes we should know about? Get in touch!
There are limits to what we can do to the Speedie: it’s Triumph Australia’s bike and all too soon they’ll be wanting it back, and in the condition it came to us. But I’d certainly like to think about the seating options — quite fancy a smart design on the seat cover — to say nothing of screens and perhaps lights.
Herself has already booked a place on the pillion perch. She finds the accessory backrest an appealing idea, though remains a mite dubious of the proportions of the seat itself.
Our local timber supplier has no such doubts. “Nice toys,” he said, scrutinising both Triumph and Suzuki when he came to drop off the first consignment of accursed radiata pine to transform into bookcases. He’s been back twice since and each time he takes a closer look at the Triumph. We’ll convert him yet.
I think we’re heading for Bathurst next. Apparently there’s a market somewhere in the lee of Mount Panorama that’s just too good to be missed. The produce there is, I’m told, a sight to see. Which suggests that a set of panniers — to make off with all the contraband — might be high on the list of vital accessories. Interesting: I hadn’t quite envisaged the pair of us, Speedie-mounted, scaling the heights of Victoria Pass overflowing with heads of broccoli and Granny Smith apples, quite so early in our acquaintanceship with the bike, but life is full of surprises.
BG