Tag: Royal Enfield

Why a Royal Enfield?

Before I get started, I’ve got to acknowledge there are a lot more views and opinions of “thumpers” than mine. I’ve gotten and read several messages since the post went up: “Put on 300 miles…; 200 miles on Saturday, 215 on Sunday…; San Francisco to Portland over the weekend…, etc. etc….” Okay “Iron Butts”, I get it. You all have concrete asses and wear dentures. No, seriously, hats off to all you one-bangers. You’re tougher than I am.

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Well… Look at it!

My first glimpse of the Interceptor was an Orange Crush, which I believe was the dominant color released with the first wave to distributors in the US and the UK. At first glance, it was reminiscent of a 1968 Bonneville, or maybe a 1971 BSA Thunderbolt, as the motor crowds the frame a bit more than the Bonnie. A Bonneville was a bike I’d craved as a kid, but I also thought the BSA was actually the more beautiful bike. But, even as a seventh grader, I’d heard stories about the electrical systems in the BSA and comments that they were the “best looking machine you’ll ever see parked on the roadside.” Regardless of the horror stories we’ve all heard about British bikes in the sixties and seventies, I’ve never heard anybody state a Japanese bike possessed that kind of eye catching promise– not one built in the 60’s to the mid-70’s anyway– that would make your soul complete. They just happened to start every time. If nothing else, the RE might have been built in India, but it screamed Great Britain. The only concern I had was if the Indians had kept more of the British tradition than its sense of style.

Enter YouTube

I wasn’t about to let everything I learned about this bike come from RE’s website, no sir. I needed to do some deep digging. Thank God for Stuart Fillingham and the Missenden Flyer, two men I hold in the highest esteem– but I do give credit to the others who provided their opinions via their video test runs as well. That both Mr. Fillingham and the Flyer both sang its praises and ultimately bought it should have been plenty for anybody, but I continued my quest, searching for at least one bad review. I figured that would be the exception that proved the rule. No luck, no matter how hard I tried. Even Yammie Noob offered lukewarm praise, which I took as overwhelming support of a bike that I figured such a site would never bother to take a glance at. Sure, there were comments that showed how corners had been cut and, as another bike-free year on my end passed, some negative comments were made, but these were only offered in support of…

How much? No way. You gotta be shi—

The price. Six grand for a brand new, 650cc motorcycle that’s more beautiful in one’s eyes than their first prom date– and I don’t care if you’ve been together ever since. Yes, some shortcuts were pointed out in order to achieve that price point. The plastic turn signals (I like the American signals much better than the oblong, rectangular flashers offered in the UK), a cheesy rear light (retro appropriate…), analog light bulbs. Critiques were also made of the suspension, the seat– while also retro appropriate, it’s shortcomings become readily apparent on longer rides– and a few easily dismissed complaints were voiced about the foot peg placement. Can’t blame the manufacturer for an individual’s height deficiency. There have also been some gripes about the hardware found on the handlebars, and I agree the controls are nothing if not generic, but when looking at what counts there’s no hint of skimping whatsoever. It’s got ABS and fuel injection. Really, what more does a modern motorcycle need? At my age, more bells and whistles add up to confusion, not performance… The engine and the transmission are flawless, and it’s not just my pedestrian opinion. The engine and gearbox have garnered nothing but praise and admiration. Even the low numbers on the spec sheet can be dismissed out of hand. The gearing ratio would never allow one to believe they’re being propelled by 47 horses. And, torque-wise, I’ll listen to any legitimate complaint if somebody can point out a single gear that feels “boggy.” I’ll entertain all gripes, if they come anywhere near convincing.

All of the criticism I’ve heard can easily be solved with a little cash and, honestly, not a whole lot of expertise. You can get new suspension all around, change the seat, swap out all the lights, and still have a few grand more in the bank account than if you’d bought yourself a brand new Bonneville. And…

LOOK AT IT!

After first laying eyes on this machine, I’m convinced it will someday be hailed as a classic example of design, hitting a home run in both form and function. This is also combined with a stroke of marketing genius, serving the entire motorcycling community well by its beauty and economy. I knew it was a bike I was going to buy, and any research I did was more to find a solid reason for NOT buying it. Love at first sight, man. I’m proud to own one.

What’s a Royal Enfield?

When I first got the bug to get back into riding a motorcycle, I figured I’d go the “familiar” route for us old folks who are, in motorcycling terms, “Born Again.” I planned to find a Japanese bike, most likely a Honda or a Yamaha, as those brands are what I rode as a kid, a mid-size, between 500 or 750 cc’s. I figured I’d start with a used machine, between three and five years old, see how I liked it, and then start thinking about buying a new one. Then, way back in 2019, a guy I work with was talking about Royal Enfield, and that he’d heard about a new motorcycle they were due to release in a couple of months. He didn’t know a lot about them, but he told me it sounded like they were practically “giving them away.”

I’d actually heard of Royal Enfield motorcycles. I’d also never heard anything good about them. I knew they were a British bike, they were around in the ’60’s, and that, not unlike BSA and Norton, were temperamental as in hard to start and harder to keep running. They also let you know where they’d been by the stains they left behind where they’d been parked– “Royal Oilfield”– and that they were essentially crap. I thought they’d gone out of business about the same time BSA and Norton had. I was right, in the U.S. anyway. Royal Enfield in the United States went of out business in 1970, BSA disappeared in 1972. Norton flopped around under various owners and configurations and, to be honest, I had no idea when they weren’t sold in the U.S. any more.

Not English, but still in business!

Intrigued by what I’d heard from my friend, I did some research. Suprise! Royal Enfield may have been bankrupt in Blighty, but had been alive and well, thanks to the Brits building a factory in India in 1955, which were still producing bikes after the business in the U.K went under. What I also learned is there have been motorcycles in continuous production with the Enfield name since 1901. Take that Harley Davidson! While not yet convinced they weren’t crap, a tradition like that merited more investigation.

Thump, thump, thump…

While RE had produced some bikes that were considered “big” for the times, the Constellation, Meteor and Super Meteor in the fifties, all 700cc, and the Interceptor, introduced in 1961 as a 700cc, and later bumped up to 750 until the brand disappeared in the American market. These machines were all parallel twin cylinders. India was a different story. The factory in India was built in 1955 and produced bikes in the 250 to 500cc range– all single cylinder. The common term for these bikes is “thumper,” a single piston machine known for the vibration that permeates the entire bike– and its rider– from idle to max revs. While RE’s “superbikes” of the sixties had a reputation of being among the fastest production bikes sold in the U.S., the bikes made in India carried no such reputation.

Motorcycles in the US are essentially toys. Sure, some folks use them to get back and forth to work, and even fewer have them as a sole means of motorized transportation, but to the vast majority they are a luxury. In India, they are essential both for transportation, and as working vehicles. Any vehicle that can get you from point A to point B economically is valuable, and being the hometown ride, RE is a very popular brand, but luxury is not a prime consideration. Cost is. While a motorcycle built in fifties or sixties has its place in the United States, it’s more novelty than anything else. It’s something that will get a lot of attention, start some great conversations and certainly be fun to tool around on, it’s not what people here consider an everyday ride. In India it is, and if a bike relies on mid-twentieth century technology to get you around, few people are going to complain. While Americans were not only enjoying stuff like ABS, traction control, fuel injection, onboard GPS, and every other doo-dad you could hang on two wheels, they were demanding it as well. In India, if your bike starts you’ve already got a leg up on your day. Speed also plays a factor in the U S of A. In the sub-continent? Not so much. Which brings me back to thumpers. If your fillings are at risk going thirty miles an hour, imagine how you’re going to feel at fifty… sixty? If, by the grace of God, you can get your single cylinder five hundred up to seventy, how’s your ride going to be if you swallowed your dental work at 6o mph and now your teeth are loosening up? Not to mention you may find your bike shedding parts as well. You’re not going to be putting on stretches of one hundred fifty miles in one leg of a trip, either. If I attempted such a trip as that at my age, I’d be in the market for a scooter before long– the kind you plug in at night before going to bed. However, this was all news to me when I first starting researching whether a Royal Enfield was in my future, though a thumper wasn’t going to be considered no matter who built it. But, if you’ll allow me to be a bit grandiose, RE saw me coming, and had made plans years before I’d started looking for a bike.

A change for the better.

While RE’s have been available in the U.S. since, the first American distributorship was opened in Milwaukee in 2015. They’ve been available, but I’d never seen one on the street or in a parking lot. They’ve enjoyed a cult status, presumably owned by people with excellent dental plans or those who enjoy riding a massive sex toy to the convenience store. But RE underwent a management change, and their sights were now set on an international market, and the United States and Europe were in their crosshairs.

The first offering was a funky 411 cc adventure bike called the Himalayan. It debuted in 2016 and was the first RE built from scratch since, well, whenever. All other RE thumpers have the same frame, with no updates in over fifty years, regardless of engine size. The Himalayan is also single cylinder, but was equipped with fuel injection, a newly designed frame, and excellent off-road suspension, though it also handles quite well on pavement. It had a rough start the first couple of years, but management learned from its critics and now enjoys a great reputation. Another thing to consider is its price point, $4749 off the showroom floor. That’s a helluva lot of fun for less than five grand. It also received a massive boost from a young Dutch lady, known as “Itchy Boots” on YouTube, whose worldwide adventures no doubt helped sales, as she was viral as viral gets, when in comes to women on motorcycles traveling in risky places.

All of this leads up to why I decided on a Royal Enfield as my re-introduction to motorcycling. I’ve used up a lot of words, and a lot of space, but I won’t just leave you hanging until mid-week. I’ve put a picture of what I decided on as a means of risking life and limb. And a picture saves a thousand words, as they say:

Wednesday I’ll tell you why I bought it… as if the pic doesn’t say enough.

G’Bye, Politics… for now, anyhoo.

I’m giving up this, for this:

Makes sense to me. While the Donald battles courts, rages against the Real Republicans, and ultimately dwindles and withdraws from public life, I’ll be out on the twisties, rolling over hills, scaring the crap out of myself and compelling my wife to put the insurance company on speed-dial. It’s a decision I’ve made, and I can’t think of a better distraction.

Why?

Good question. A great question. It’s a question I’ve asked myself more times than I can recall, and my wife– whew— she’s not exactly against it, but she’s said more than once, “I can’t picture you on one of the those things… don’t expect me to get on the back of it,” which I don’t…

Why?

All right, I’m living a cliche`.

I used to ride in my late teens and early twenties. At first I just hopped on whatever bike my father had in the garage, starting with a Honda twin cylinder 125, then a Honda 450 scrambler and, finally a Honda 750cc inline four. That was a sweet bike. And then he sold it out from under me. He never said a word, it was just gone. He never told me why, but my mother clued me in and said “You’re on it more than he is, and he decided he didn’t want you getting killed on his motorcycle.” So I bought my own. Then I got married and said goodbye to my Yamaha 650Xs.

I haven’t exactly pined for the old machine much. It was a fun bike, and I rode the hell out of it for a couple of years… and then got married. It’s easy using a wife as an excuse not to ride any more. That was the one I’d used. My prime motivation was that I didn’t get the chance to ride it as often as I’d liked, I couldn’t store it where I was living at the time and, honestly, the money looked better than the bike at that point in my life. Money in the pocket, and I forgot about the exhilaration of the open road, and meeting my maker on the asphalt was no longer a concern… and it wasn’t for forty years.

Sooo… why now?

A better question, and one I can’t really answer, to be honest. I just got an itch, and it didn’t go away. Then I saw a picture of a Royal Enfield 650. It reminded me so much of my old bike– almost the same specs– and when you added anti-lock brakes and fuel injection, the itch got worse. And when I saw how much they were brand new, I started thinking destiny was at work– exactly what kind of destiny is also a good question, and another one I don’t want to consider at the moment.

I sat on the idea for over a year. If anything, I didn’t want to write this off as an impulse, and it would certainly fall into that category if I just up an bought one the minute I laid eyes on it… A year later, and I wanted it even worse. So I ordered one, one right off the factory floor.

I’ve done goofier things, but not for several years. It’s a helluva way to backslide.

So now, as I wait for delivery to the dealer, I sit and ponder what got into me. I also realize I might get over it the second I write the check to pay it off. I’ve even thought about what I’d do if the urge suddenly vanished. Would I simply leave it there, screen my phone calls until they finally quit calling me? I’m sure it’s been done before… I could offer an excuse, shift blame to my beloved and complain she’d changed her mind and wanted me at home and compliant until my funeral– which would take place after I die in twenty more years, and in my sleep. Or I can just march over there, tell them I chickened out, and run back out the door. But I won’t. I know that for sure. Whatever trepidation I feel is– for now– the anticipation of having nothing better to do one day than throw a leg over a death machine and ride it until the sun goes down.

But I won’t be doing it alone, and I won’t be running before I can walk. I’m going to take my time, get myself re-trained enough to hit a country road, and possibly find Jesus by cutting a corner too hard and perhaps finding eternal peace at the courtesy of a guardrail or the bumper of an F-250.

I’m going to “do it right.” I’ll be taking an MMSC, probably in April, and… You will be there too! I’m going to drag you right along with my while I either turn into a capable, happy guy who enjoys a few hours a week at one with the open road, or sitting miserable in an emergency room while a resident picks gravel out of my ass. Let’s not hope for anything worse… See ya soon!