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Smoke on the Horizon
by Gary Charpentier |
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Oh
man, now I've done it, I have adopted another orphan
motorcycle. I just can't help myself! There should be some
sort of intervention from my friends and family to keep me
away from the Sunday classifieds, but they remain blissfully
ignorant of my plight as I sink deeper and deeper into the
vintage motorcycle addiction. My latest
acquisition is a 1968 Bridgestone 350 GTR. According to Tim,
the previous owner, it was a dealer demo bike until 1970 or
so, logging 3,811 miles before being put into storage when
the dealership went belly-up. It has languished in some
warehouse for almost 30 years now, and it is up to me to
resurrect it. This will be a challenge. So, I rolled her
out of my garage last night and into the light of the
setting sun. All that chrome glistening with golden
reflections really cast a spell on me. Polished alloy engine
cases spoke to me of hours of soothing rubbing and buffing.
I just sat and stared at her for awhile, far enough away so
I wouldn't see the cracked cables, dry rotted rubber seals,
and other inevitable signs of aging. To me, she was
fresh, new, and ready to take me on adventures yet
unimagined. Kind of like meeting someone in a dark, smoky
bar for the first time--you want to put off that first
glimpse under the harsh light of day for as long as
possible. Or is that just me? Classic Bike Guide
describes the Bridgestone 350 GTR as: "Too rare to become
the stuff of legend it deserves, the GTR remains one of the
world's great originals. Magnificent performance and
engineering. Very rare." High praise
indeed, coming from a British magazine which caters mostly
to the British and Euro-bike crowd. The fact that these
bikes are so rare makes me pause a moment before considering
modifications. I feel a certain responsibility to restore
this motorcycle to it's original glory. But the addition of
clubmans (clubmen?) and rear-sets is reversible, and as long
as I hang on to the original parts, I feel I will have kept
the faith. There are so many
unique, quirky little details about this motorcycle! It
looks like the engineers were given free-reign during the
design phase, and that design must have bypassed the
bean-counters on it's way to the production line. Disc
valves, dry clutch, grease fittings right in the middle of
the control cables, and the most beautiful castings I have
ever seen on a Japanese motorcycle. These are only a few of
the features that immediately capture the eye. A six-speed rotary
shift transmission means that all gears can be selected by
moving the lever downward, with neutral between sixth and
first. This can be a potential disaster if I ever lose track
of which gear I am in, as selecting first gear right after
winding it out in sixth would cause immediate, catastrophic
disassembly! There is a warning light which activates as you
select fifth gear, telling you there is only one more to go.
This light will be checked frequently! I am sure there
are many more mysteries awaiting me as I strip away the
layers of engineering artistry. I have been searching for a
shop manual, and may have found a source on the Internet.
This, I am sure, will save me a lot of time and headaches.
Speaking of the
Internet, there is a Bridgestone Registry for owners of
these obscure little bikes, as well as a mailing list. I
have found both to be valuable sources of information and
advice so far. The next step is to start buying parts,
sight-unseen, from people I have never met. This will
require a certain level of blind trust, but I have found
most people who are involved in this hobby to be quite
honorable and extremely helpful. In the case of a mailing
list such as that which serves the small Bridgestone
community, word gets around quickly if anyone feels they
have been cheated, so I think my chances here are pretty
good. As I write this,
it is getting very close to Father's Day. The one who will
call me Daddy is still in-utero, but we know who she is now
and have picked out a name. Wife Amy says that's enough to
qualify me to receive the customary gifts, and I have given
her a list of hand and power tools that will help my
restoration efforts immensely. I wonder what she is going to
pick from that very long list? The air-compressor will come
in handy! Or the big tool chest, or the... Having spent the
past eight months in exile in Minneapolis, it is really nice
to be back on Ton-Up Hill again. I have my garage, my shed,
and the tools with which to turn out some interesting
motorcycles. Yeah, I do miss
the rush of competition, both on the road and on the
racetrack. But they will both be there when I am ready to
tear it up again. In the meanwhile,
there is so much more to this motorcycle obsession that I
can explore. First Thursday is coming, and I would like to
have this GTR running by then, with clouds of smoke and a
hearty "Rrrrrrring-ding-ding-ding-ding...". It should keep
the mosquitoes away, at the very least. M.M.M.
Two-stroke
motorcycles have always seemed a sort of black magic to me.
Yes, I know that they make lots more power per cubic
centimeter than their four-stroke rivals, but there is all
that gas and oil mixture and jetting alchemy to deal with,
and no engine braking when I downshift at the entrance to
corners. The old drum brakes on this bike look woefully
inadequate when I think that they are solely responsible for
dragging us down from a claimed 105+ mph top speed! What am
I getting myself into here?
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