Tag Archives: Features

Motom Delfino & 98TS

Motom Delfino & Motom 98TS

With Phil Aynsley


A few columns ago I featured the Motom 48 (link), here I’ll look at the company’s later two more advanced machines – the Delfino and 98TS.

PA MotomDelfino
Motom Delfino

The Delfino (Dolphin) was first shown at the 1950 Milan Show and was designed by ex-Lancia engineer Giuseppe Falchetto. Along with several other manufacturers’ bikes at the time (MV Agusta Pullman, Rumi Formicino), it comprised both motorcycle and scooter elements. The beam frame housed a 147 cc single cylinder four-stroke motor that had its barrel inclined at a 70° angle.

PA MotomDelfino
Motom Delfino

PA MotomDelfino

Due to the popularity of the 48 it took a while for production facilities to become available, which meant Delfino production didn’t begin until 1952. It now had a capacity of 163 cc and an output of 7.5 hp. The following year a slightly revised second version was released. Power was up to 8 hp and oil leaks from the valve cover were cured by increasing the number of retaining bolts to four.

PA MotomDelfino
Motom Delfino

PA MotomDelfino

In 1955 a third series was introduced which had flywheel magnet ignition with a seperate coil, boasting a dry weight of 98 kg and 86 km/h top speed.

PA MotomDelfino
Motom Delfino

Production came to a halt in 1957 after some 5,350 Delfinos had been made. One limiting factor to sales was the high price of the bike – 265,000 lire compared to the Vespa 125’s 150,000 lire and the Lambretta LD’s 166,000.

PA MotomDelfino
Motom Delfino

The company’s follow up to the Delfino was the futuristic 98, introduced at the 1955 Milan Show. The 98 proudly showed off its pressed-steel frame (Falchetto’s Lancia relationship with pressed-steel experts Farina coming in handy), which allowed for very clean lines.

PA MotomTS
Motom 98TS
PA MotomTS
Motom 98TS
PA MotomTS
Motom 98TS

The bulbous side panels provided knee grip as well as covering the actual tank, battery and tool roll. A push-button inside the right hand cover locked the steering so when the cover was locked, that single key provided security for the bike, fuel and tools.

PA MotomTS
Motom 98TS
PA MotomTS
Motom 98TS

The engine covers were high quality alloy castings and aided air flow past the horizontal cylinder. The unusual front suspension also added to the clean lines of the bike. Output was 6.75 hp at 8200rpm, with a weight of 65 kg. Top speed was 100 km/h, making for a sizable upgrade over the Delfino.

PA MotomTS

PA MotomTS
Motom 98TS

Source: MCNews.com.au

Mick Doohan’s championship winning 1998 NSR500

Mick Doohan’s 1998 championship winning NSR500

With Phil Aynsley


Continuing on from the last column (Doohan 1994 Honda NSR500 – Link), the other NSR from Mick Doohan’s collection I shot was the 1998 bike.

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Mick Doohan’s championship winning 1998 NSR500
Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Mick went back to the screamer motor from 1997

For the 1997 season Mick requested that his bikes revert back to the 180 degree “screamer” motor.

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
By now the NSR500 was producing near on 200hp
Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Mick Doohan’s championship winning 1998 NSR500

Advances to the electronics and tyres since 1991 meant the power (now near 200hp), while not totally tamed, was able to be used by those riders with the most ability.

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Mick Doohan’s championship winning 1998 NSR500

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePAMick went on to win 12 of the 15 races, with Alex Crivillé taking two and Tady Okada one for a NSR clean sweep of the top four places.

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Mick led the Honda domination of the 1997 season, a feat he would repeat in 1998
Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Power was reduced slightly in the 1998 machine with unleaded fuel now in use

The 1998 bike retained the “screamer” motor but power was reduced by up to five per cent due the new regulations requiring the use of unleaded fuel.

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
The benefit of the move to unleaded fuel was a boost in torque
Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
A hydraulic clutch was also new on Mick’s 1998 NSR500

However torque was improved resulting in better traction and acceleration.

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Doohan went on to win eight of the 14 races for the season in 1998

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePAOne other change to the motor specification was the adoption of a hydraulically operated clutch. Mick won 8 of the 14 races and his final championship.

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
The bike was rebuilt for Doohan prior to the handover

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePAThe bike received a full rebuild by Honda technicians before being handed to Mick and is fitted with special presentation tyres from Michelin.

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Mick Doohan’s championship winning 1998 NSR500

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Mick Doohan’s championship winning 1998 NSR500

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
The hydraulic clutch at the ‘bars

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePAHonda NSR Doohan ImagePA

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Mick Doohan’s championship winning 1998 NSR500

Source: MCNews.com.au

Around the world with The Bear | Part Eight | Exploring India

Around the world with The Bear – Part Eight

The King of Every Kingdom – Around the world on a very small motorcycle

With J. Peter “The Bear” Thoeming


Last episode we discovered that the beer was warm as The Bear and Charlie explored Nepal before heading on into India – this week we find that the food is hot!


Having arrived in Varanasi last time, we now retreated to the Hotel KMM, which had been recommended to us, and drank several gallons of tea and fresh lemon drink. It all went straight out again, mostly through the pores, and it kept us awake and buzzing.

On an evening stroll through the crowds of holy men and peddlers we acquired a friend, an eight-year-old boy who wanted to sell us some silk. He tagged along down to the river and introduced us to his father, who had just had his evening dip in the holy river. We sat watching the sunset reflecting in the river as the father told us some stories about Varanasi and the Hindu gods.

Around the world with The Bear Peter Thoeming Part
For once, the signposting is good! That was not at all common in India.

The next day was devoted to looking over such unique Varanasi attractions as the ghats on the riverbank, where corpses are burnt before being consigned to the sacred embrace of the river—a very quick look at that. Fighting off prospective guides took more time than anything else.

We returned to our little friend’s shop, in fact the family living-room and no doubt bedroom, and I bought some silk batik scarves for presents. They were beautiful, with motifs from Hindu mythology in rich colours. One hangs on my office wall to this day.

It seemed to us that the best way to deal with the heat was to get up early, do most of our riding in the cool of the morning and rest in the afternoon, and with that in mind we rose at 4am to discover that there was a blackout.

We loaded the bikes by the light of our torches. The electricity came back on at about the same time as the sun came up. This little scheme did work quite well after that, though.

Around the world with The Bear Peter Thoeming Part
No, not a hardware shop, just kitchen equipment mostly made of steel.

It was still cool when we stopped in Mirzapur for a cup of tea at the railway station and the road outside showed us the reason for the blackout. There must have been a storm the previous night, because a number of poles had come down and filled the streets with a tangle of wires.

We ordered the ‘Vegetable Preparation’, which is a selection of violently coloured pastes, presumably originally sourced from vegetables, in an aluminium TV dinner tray. It has little flavour beyond ha… ha… HOT!

We had a good road that day, still lined by mangos, which were inhabited by monkeys, and quite spectacular where it climbed the edge of the Deccan. Our host for the night was a retired lawyer-turned-spiritualist who now ran a hotel in Satna. He assured us that, wherever we went in the universe, we would always find people who spoke English. I guess a spiritualist ought to know.

Around the world with The Bear Peter Thoeming Part
Another look at one of the Khajuraho temple carvings.

A look at the erotic carvings on the temples at Khajuraho, which are incidentally very good and actually quite erotic, was followed by our hottest day to date. We pulled in to the courtyard of an Irrigation Department rest house and tried to find out from the chowkidar—the caretaker—if we could stay the night there and get something to eat. No luck. Our recently acquired few words of Hindi didn’t seem to mean anything to him at all. What was the world coming to.

Lady Luck chose that moment to arrive in the shape of a short chap driving a locally made Fiat with a hang glider on top. He told us later that it was the only one in the country and he had brought it in under the pretext that it was a tent – substantial aircraft import duty would otherwise have been due on it. Tent duty, it seems is more reasonable.

It appeared that we had not been able to communicate with the chowkidar because he only spoke the local dialect. Our newfound friend then reached into his car, where the thermometer (in the shade) read 52 degrees C, and produced two bottles of beer in dry ice and wrapped in a back copy of the Times of India, which he invited us to share with him on the verandah.

The beer, that is. I could have kissed him. The bungalow, he explained, was not set up for meals. We thanked him for the beer and rode on to Jhansi. The heat, all the worse now we knew just how hot it was, was coming up off the road like laser fire.

Jhansi’s Central Hotel was pretty basic, with those dreadful short charpoys – beds made of timber and rope and designed for Indian not Australian bodies – but there was quite a good curry to be had downstairs and we were entertained by a wedding across the road. A lot of the wedding seemed to involve firecrackers.

Around the world with The Bear Peter Thoeming Part
Rule number One in India: these have right of way wherever you go.

Next morning, road works gave us a bit of trouble on the way to Agra. A row of stones across the road can mean one of two things—either there used to be a broken-down truck there that’s been repaired and moved, or there’s a bridge out around the next corner. It’s not always easy to tell if the road ends dramatically a few yards farther on. We were also getting sore bums in the heat; XL seats are not comfortable at the very best of times and this was not one.

But the Taj Mahal took our minds off our worries. It is the only building I have ever seen that lives up to the tourist hype, and we were fortunate enough to have a full moon to see it by. There were fireflies in the gardens, too, and it was almost unbearably romantic. Charlie and I would gladly have exchanged each other for female company. Sadly, this was not to be.

We found lots of mail waiting for us in Delhi, but the money that should have been sitting at the bank had allegedly not arrived. I checked every day, and one day in the lift at the bank, an aristocratic-looking Indian gent looked me up and down, said hello and ascertained that I was Australian and then asked: ‘What is your purpose in life?’ I was still frantically trying to formulate a reply when we reached my floor and I beat a disorganised retreat.

Around the world with The Bear Peter Thoeming Part
India (and the rest of southern Asia) would stop without these.

The Tourist Camp in Old Delhi looked rather more comfortable than most of the cheap hotels, so we pitched our flysheet there over a large bit of carpet donated by the manager. Charlie did a bit of maintenance work on the bikes, among other things replacing the rubber seal on one of the fork legs of my bike. It had been weeping oil and proved to be rather badly scored.

Visas were a headache. The Afghanis weren’t issuing any, having just had a revolution. The Iraqis wanted our passports for three months, to send to Baghdad for approval, so we decided to give them a miss. At least the Iranians only took two days.

Outside the Iranian Embassy we met Paul, a fellow biker and a Sikh from Chandigar who also intended to ride over to Europe. He invited us to come and stay with his family when we passed through Chandigar, and we gratefully accepted.

Around the world with The Bear Peter Thoeming Part
Maintenance on the bikes in the New Delhi campground.

We had a lot of trouble with our money transfers to Delhi and waited for over a week. It was partly the fault of our bank back in Australia, but the Indians certainly weren’t overly organised.

After we had covered Delhi’s tourist attractions we whiled away the time in the US Information Service and British Council libraries which offered air conditioning and newspapers.

We also bought some sheepskins and made them into seat covers for the bikes. Our money came eventually; Charlie found the advice for his while glancing idly through one of the file folders in the bank. Like they say, if you want something done…

Crossing the bridge out of town over the Yamuna River was like riding through a suburb of hell. It was a closed, boxy steel affair and hot, claustrophobic, slippery with dung, and predictably enough it stank. The roads up to the foothills of the Himalayas weren’t much, either. We passed a totally flattened three-wheeler van lying in the ditch.

We were on our way up to Rishikesh, yet another holy town. Hardwar, at the entrance of the valley, looked interesting with its hundreds of little shops in booths lining the road, but Rishikesh itself was more like a Hindu Disneyland, complete with helicopter pads for the affluent gurus.

Down by the river we met one who was still working his way up. “I have only one disciple so far,” he said, “A Swiss man. But there will be more in time, do not fear.”

Around the world with The Bear Peter Thoeming Part
Hmm. Charlie wonders if that weed is really – weed?

The road over to the old British hill station of Shimla was better. Lined by pine trees, it was chiseled into the sides of the hills. Every now and then the fog lifted and opened out spectacular views of hillsides and forest.

There were some river fords, too, crossed amid much white water, and very little traffic, a great relief after the crush down on the plains. For a while the road ran parallel to the Shimla railway, which looks like a big toy with its narrow gauge.


Next time we manage to score a full-on hot curry at a roadside stand and impress the locals.

Source: MCNews.com.au

Mick Doohan’s 1994 Honda NSR500 GP bike

1994 Honda NSR500 GP
Mick Doohan

With Phil Aynsley


I made reference in a recent column (Eddie Lawson’s 1989 NSR500 | With Phil Aynsley – link) to the fact that there are extremely few Honda NSR500 motorcycles outside the factory.

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Mick Doohan 1994 NSR500 racer

Undoubtedly the largest number in private hands are Mick Doohan’s five World Championship winning bikes.

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Mick Doohan 1994 NSR500 racer
Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Mick Doohan 1994 NSR500 racer exhausts

I was lucky enough to be able to spend a day photographing a couple of these recently.

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Mick Doohan 1994 NSR500 racer front brakes
Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Mick Doohan 1994 NSR500 racer dash

I started with his first, the 1994 bike. It continued to use the “big bang” firing order motor that had been introduced in 1992.

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
The 1994 NSR500 retained the big-bang firing order
Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
The big-bang engine was found to help traction, torque and acceleration

This had all four cylinders firing within about 70 degrees of each other. Torque, traction and acceleration had all been markedly improved with this design, as was the overall ease of use.

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Mick Doohan 1994 NSR500 racer
Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Mick Doohan 1994 NSR500 racer

A heavier balance shaft (originally introduced when the cylinder angle had been increased from 90 to 112 degrees back in 1987) also helped ridability.

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Fuel injected was tested on Shinichi Itoh’s bike but did not offer enough gains to be adopted
Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
A water-injection system to cool the exhausts was also tested

As an aside during 1993 Honda experimented with electronic fuel injection on Shinichi Itoh’s bikes but it was deemed not enough of an advance over the standard carburettors to warrant continuing with.

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Mick Doohan 1994 NSR500 racer
Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Mick Doohan 1994 NSR500 racer

One interesting feature that was introduced during 1994 was water-injection into the exhausts.

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Mick Doohan 1994 NSR500 racer
Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Mick Doohan 1994 NSR500 racer

The cooling effect and resultant lowering of the gas speed gave an increase of 10 hp in the 6000 to 10,000 rpm range.

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Mick Doohan 1994 NSR500 racer
Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Mick Doohan 1994 NSR500 racer

Mick chose to use the normal motor however as the carburation was compromised by the injection.

Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Mick Doohan 1994 NSR500 racer
Honda NSR Doohan ImagePA
Mick Doohan 1994 NSR500 racer

Source: MCNews.com.au

Benelli 650S Tornado

With Phil Aynsley


Benelli’s 650 Tornado is an often overlooked motorcycle. It suffered from being late to market after a three-year development period. As a result it found itself up against the likes of the Honda CB750 and Kawasaki H1 rather than the Triumph/BSA/Norton 650cc twins it was originally aiming at.

Benelli Tornado PA BenelliS
The Benelli 650S Tornado can be accused of coming just a little too late

It was first shown, in prototype form, at the 1967 Milan Show but it wasn’t until 1970 that the first production model went on sale in its main intended market, the USA. European deliveries started the following year.

Benelli Tornado PA BenelliS
A three-year delay from the Milan reveal meant the bike came up against the CB750 and H1

Originally intended to be a 350cc, it was soon changed to a 650. The motor was designed by Piero Prampolini (who created Benelli’s successful horizontal singles) and Luigi Benelli penned the double-cradle frame.

Benelli Tornado PA BenelliS
The Tornado 650S was originally to be a 350 but was aimed at the American market

The first version (just the ‘650’) suffered from the lack of an electric starter and engine vibration above 4000 rpm. Power from the very over square motor (84×58 mm) 360º twin was a claimed 50 hp at 7400 rpm, giving a top speed of 176 km/h.

Benelli Tornado PA BenelliS
The first version also lacked an electric start which would be added later

With the transfer of the company to Alejandro De Tomaso in 1972 Prampolini redesigned the bike (now the 650S) to add a Bosch electric starter behind the cylinders (formally the place of the alternator), rebalanced crankshaft, increased compression, revised gear ratios, new exhaust system, new instrumentation and revised graphics. Power was increased to 52 hp and claimed top speed to 190 km/h. The bike seen here is an original, unrestored 650S.

Benelli Tornado PA BenelliS
The bike saw heavy updates in 1972

Benelli Tornado PA BenelliS
This coincided with the transfer of the company to Alejandro De Tomaso

The final S2 version appeared in 1973 and featured improved low end torque and increased rubber mounting of various components such as the handlebars and foot pegs.

Benelli Tornado PA BenelliS
Benelli 650S Tornado

A clear handlebar fairing, long humped seat and revised graphics including black engine side cases completed the makeover. Altogether about 3000 of all versions were built.

Benelli Tornado PA BenelliS
Benelli 650S Tornado

Benelli Tornado PA BenelliS
Benelli 650S Tornado

Benelli Tornado PA BenelliS
Benelli 650S Tornado

Benelli Tornado PA BenelliS
Benelli 650S Tornado

Source: MCNews.com.au

Around the world with The Bear | Part Seven | Nepal & India

Around the world with The Bear – Part Seven

The King of Every Kingdom – Around the world on a very small motorcycle

With J. Peter “The Bear” Thoeming


We left our heroes last week as they readied to fly out of Bangkok in Part 6. Will Nepal welcome them with open arms?


Nepal

I enjoy flying with Thai, not only for the free scotch and champagne but also for the friendly cabin crews. We had a relaxing trip and arrived at Tribhuvan Airport in Kathmandu in good shape, where I discovered that I had not only packed my ticket in the pannier but my passport photos as well. The pleasant Immigration man shrugged, waived the requirement of a photo for the Nepalese visa and let me through.

The Bear Around The World Part QuoteAn amiable three-hour wrangle with Customs followed about the bikes. They finally accepted our Carnets and we were free to pick up the machines. ‘Pick up’ was right, too. Our carefully constructed pallets had disintegrated and the bikes were on their sides, Charlie’s leaking acid from the battery.

A friendly bystander brought us back a gallon of petrol from town and we wobbled off on near-empty tyres looking for a service station. We finally found air at a tyre shop. Service stations don’t stock it in Nepal.

Which reminds me, don’t ever ask for air in Malaysia when you want air. Air means water. So the Malaysian air force is actually the navy. True! Would I lie to you?

Around the world with The Bear Peter Thoeming Part
Some Nepalese roads are better, some are worse.

Once in Kathmandu, we parked in Freak Street and looked for accommodation where the bikes could be parked off the road. A young Australian woman, a computer programmer turned trekking guide, recommended the Blue Angel. Being Marlene Dietrich fans, we checked in there. It was roomy and clean and had a carport where the bikes could be chained up.

Despite being one of the most unsanitary collections of buildings in the world, Kathmandu is a comfortable, relaxed town. It’s fashionable to think that all places are spoilt in time, but Kathmandu seemed better to me in 1978 than it had in 1970, when I’d last been there: fewer out-and-out derelict hippies, apparently less hard drug usage and a less frenetic street life, but all the little chai bars and restaurants were still playing Dark Side of the Moon.

I introduced Charlie to the peculiar Nepalese idea of European cuisine. We ate things like mashed potatoes with mushroom sauce, buffalo steak, lemon pancakes like citrus-flavoured inner tubes and cast-iron fruit pies. Not as bad as it sounds, actually.

Gives your jaws a workout and it’s bound to be healthy. Restaurants with names like Hungry Eye, New Glory, Krishna’s and Chai ‘n’ Pie still abound. The New Eden reminded me of an exchange I’d listened to in there a few years back:

American voice No. 1, in front of counter: “Ah, how much are the cakes, man?”

American voice No. 2, behind counter: “Chocolate two rupees, banana two rupees, hash one rupee.”

No. 1: “Ah . . . how come the hash cakes are cheaper than banana cakes, man?”

No. 2: “Because hash is cheaper than bananas.”

One morning we got up very early to ride out to Nagarkot, a hill station near Kathmandu. We had hoped to get there before the mists rolled in and hid the Himalayas, but I got lost on the way, and all we saw was an enormous wall of cloud with Everest somewhere in the middle. Other daytrips went to Bodnath, the monkey temple; to the giant stupa at Swayambu; and to the river temples at Dashinkali.

Around the world with The Bear Peter Thoeming Part
The mountains are ever present no matter where you are in Nepal.

We also ‘conquered’ Pulchwoki, a 9050-foot hill behind town, on the bikes, travelling on a 14km dirt road up to the top. Wherever we went in the countryside, the sealed roads were covered in freshly harvested grain sheaves. The locals thresh in the simplest way possible—by letting the traffic run over it.

There was a bike shop near the Blue Angel. I peered in one day and was invited to inspect the premises. The tools consisted of a screwdriver and a complete set of shifting spanners.

We secured visa extensions and took off for Pokhara, Nepal’s second city. The road was awful, more potholes than tar, until we passed the turn-off to Birganj and thence India.

After that it improved dramatically and was serviceable even despite the occasional mud slide or washaway. It was built by the Chinese and follows the shoulders of the river valleys over three low passes until it gets to the plateau that holds Pokhara. Charlie went off trekking, walking up in the mountains along the paths that serve the local people as roads.

I checked in at a small, two-storey mud hotel and took it easy, bartering with the Tibetan pedlars, reading and writing. Tibetans are magnificent-looking people, like idealized Red Indians. They also have a great sense of humour. Or seem to, anyway.

Around the world with The Bear Peter Thoeming Part
The grain in the middle of the road is being threshed by the tyres of passing traffic.

I couldn’t understand their jokes, being totally ignorant of Tibetan, but their laughter was nice and inclusive and I never felt as if they were laughing at me. Could have been wrong about that, of course…

Being a little worried about drinking the water, I asked for a glass of boiled water at the hotel. I got it, too. A glass of boiling water—not quite what I’d intended, since I wanted to drink it. After that, I collected water from the roof during the frequent thunderstorms.

The family running the hotel was very kind and kept offering me places in the buffalo stall for the bikes. I didn’t think that was really safe; those buffs might have been good-tempered enough but they were also enormous. The thought of one of them sitting on or leaning against a bike was a bit worrying.

Pokhara itself is a long, narrow town as yet little touched by modernisation. At one end it runs through large mango trees down to Lake Phewa, where the small hotels and shops catering for Europeans are.

Around the world with The Bear Peter Thoeming Part
Our landlady’s young son was absolutely stoked to wear my helmet.

My shoulder was finally recovering, even though the torn muscles were still sore, and I just wandered around quietly. There was a lot to photograph, from the farmers arriving at the lakeshore in their dugout canoes to Machupuchare and the Annapurnas lifting their peaks high in the clear morning air.

It’s easier to see the mountains from Pokhara because the town is higher than Kathmandu, although you can’t see Everest, which is too far away.

Charlie returned refreshed by his days in the mountains, and we took to the Siddhartha Highway, heading down to India. Nepalese friends had warned us that the road was ‘not very good’: built by the Indian government, they shrugged.

How right they were. The road is a nightmare of once-tarred dirt and gravel, but the scenery is superb—I think it is, anyway. As we came down through the deep river gorges, I wasn’t often game enough to take my eyes off the road to admire it. Might want to go back there some time, like when I think it’s time to shuffle off this mortal coil.


India

The Nepalese customs man glanced at the souvenirs we’d bought and asked, ‘Where’s the hash?’ with a grin and waved us through. We had donned our safari suits and the Indians were duly impressed; nobody asked for driving licenses, insurance, vaccination cards or anything else except our passports—we were through in minutes.

As we rode along shaded by great mango trees we diced with the traffic as far as Gorakhpur. Indian roads are alive with every kind of human, animal and motor powered transport imaginable. The truck drivers, being Sikhs, are pretty well unbluffable and all else moves too slowly to be worth bluffing.

The Standard Hotel provided a welcome cool room. A gentleman I took to be the owner insisted on buying us breakfast next morning and involved us in a political discussion. It was his theory that Indians are so keen on politics because they can’t afford any other kind of entertainment— politics is free. It also uses relatively few calories.

The Bear Around The World Part QuoteWe passed a funeral on the road that morning, the body wrapped in gold brocade from head to toe—a rather sad display of affluence among the drabness and obvious poverty. But each to his own. If you gotta go, go in gold brocade!

In Ghazipur we had intended to change some money, and consequently went looking for the bank. Despite repeated sets of directions, we couldn’t find it. Eventually someone took us right to the door. We’d been past it several times, but there was no indication that it was a bank. It looked like army barracks.

Around the world with The Bear Peter Thoeming Part
India, with the erotic carvings of Khajuraho.

It might just as well have been one, too; they would only accept US dollars, which we didn’t have. Not even Sterling, and this in the land that remembers the Raj so fondly! We revised the name of the town, in our minds at least, to Khazipur and left. “Khazi”, I understand from a British ex-soldier friend, is British Army slang for toilet.

On into the increasingly hot day to Varanasi, where one of the banks had a ‘late branch’ in a hotel. We spotted a sign saying ‘cold beer’ just outside, and Charlie was dispatched to investigate while I changed money. Not much luck for either of us.

The bank clerk tried to give me rupees for $40 instead of the £40 I’d given him and turned quite nasty when I pointed out the ‘slight’ discrepancy, and Charlie discovered that the beer shop hadn’t had an ice delivery for a couple of days and all the beer was warm.


Next installment, discover why tea is not the ideal go-to drink when you can’t get cold beer!

Source: MCNews.com.au

Babes Ride Out 7

Babes Ride Out 7
Babes Ride Out 7 attracted women on all flavors of motorcycles — cruisers, sportbikes, ADVs and more — to the golden hills of central California. Photos by the author.

A women-only rally celebrating the camaraderie of two wheels.

It all started, like these things often do, with two friends who just wanted to share a newfound love of riding motorcycles. They planned a “girls’ weekend” of riding and camping in California’s Mojave Desert, and thought it might be fun to invite some of the fellow women riders they’d been connecting with on social media (but had yet to meet in person). Playfully, they dubbed it Babes in Borrego. The year was 2013, and to their surprise 50 women showed up, some having come from as far away as New York and Oregon. They were all there for one simple reason: they loved to ride motorcycles. 

The next year Anya and Ashmore, the two founding friends, stepped up their game for what they were now calling Babes Ride Out, renting a private campground near Joshua Tree, California. They expected 150 women; instead they got 500. The next year, 1,500. That same year, 2015, they hosted their first off-road-oriented event, called (of course) Babes in the Dirt. In 2016, Babes Ride Out — or BRO for short — expanded to the East Coast and then to the UK. Anya and Ashmore had tapped into a powerful force: women who were passionate about riding and who craved the camaraderie that only a gathering of motorcyclists seems to provide, without egos or expectations — and, incidentally, without men.

Babes Ride Out jacket
Sorry, gents. There’s only one rule at BRO: no boys allowed. Well…two rules. The other is have fun!

BRO is a female-only event, and 2019 was my second one. My first time, in 2017, I wasn’t sure what to expect. As someone who was never one of the “cool girls” as a teenager, I was actually pretty worried it would feel like a bigger, scarier version of the junior high school lunchroom. It turned out to be the complete opposite. The whole event was infused with an energy of inclusiveness and fellowship, unlike any rally I’d ever attended. I knew I’d be back.

For 2019, BRO made a location change for the first time, from the desert to the rolling golden hills south of Paso Robles in California’s Central Coast wine country. Most everything else stayed the same; BRO has always been a riding-centric event, and on Saturday the camp empties out as everyone hits the road one on of the pre-planned routes (sponsor Biltwell provided printed maps) or one of their own devising.

Big Sur motorcycle ride
BRO has always been a riding event first and foremost, so on Saturday the camp empties out as everyone hits the scenic California roads. My group chose to cruise up Highway 1 to Big Sur for lunch, not a bad way to spend a Saturday!

Most of the pre-planned routes are short, a few hours or so, to give riders a chance to return to camp and take part in welding or leatherwork workshops hosted by Real Deal Revolution (co-founded by the late Jessi Combs), Harley-Davidson demo rides, M1GP minibike knee-dragging seminars, bike games and more. In the evenings, there is karaoke, live music (this year was Twisted Gypsy, a Fleetwood Mac tribute band), vendors and craftswomen, a tattoo station, free beer and whiskey (“till it runs out!”), telescopes for stargazing and food trucks for late-night grub.

Entrance to the private venue is secured 24 hours a day, and they take the “no guys allowed” rule seriously. Most of us camped in the big open field, but plenty of women brought RVs and there are even some available for rent. For those who wanted to camp but don’t own all the gear or couldn’t transport it on their bike, items like tents, sleeping pads and sleeping bags are also available to rent.

Babes Ride Out camping
The private venue, which has 24-hour security, included a huge open field for camping. Meeting new friends is a large part of the BRO experience, so even if you roll in alone you’re likely to have a neighbor stroll up and introduce herself.

There was a lot of smiling, a lot of laughter, dancing like no guys are watching, fantastic riding in California’s Central Coast and, of course, the warm camaraderie of a couple thousand women coming together to celebrate the passion we all share. Consider me a Babes believer; this is a special experience and I encourage female riders of all persuasions to attend at least one if you can. You won’t be disappointed. 

BRO East typically takes place in early June; BRO West takes place in mid-October; Babes in the Dirt takes place in late April. See websites for locations and updates.

Babesrideout.com / Babesinthedirt.com

Keep scrolling for more photos!

Babes Ride Out barn
The barn was the center of the action each evening, with a karaoke contest the first night and live music by Twisted Gypsy, a Fleetwood Mac tribute band, the second night.
Babes Ride Out Twisted Gypsy
Babes Ride Out
The barn also hosted several female artisans offering their crafts, like custom embroidery and helmet pinstriping. A raffle included items like hand-painted helmets, jackets, camping gear and more.
Real Deal Revolution
Between daytime rides and in the evenings, attendees could sign up for Real Deal Revolution workshops including leatherwork, welding, painting and more. This year was bittersweet, as the event paid tribute to Real Deal co-founder, land speed racer, television personality and all-around awesome lady Jessi Combs, who tragically died in a land speed record attempt in August.
Real Deal Revolution Babes Ride Out
Christina with Real Deal Revolution hosts a leatherworking workshop, making keychains participants got to keep.
Real Deal Revolution Babes Ride Out
The hands-on experience continued with welding classes. Real Deal Revolution’s self-stated mission is to “revolutionize the perception of skilled trades…and women’s role in them.”
M1GP Babes Ride Out
Most of the ladies in this picture had never dragged a knee before today, but after our M1GP minibike seminar we were all feeling like professional racers.

Source: RiderMagazine.com

Around the world with The Bear | Part Six | Exploring Thailand

Around the world with The Bear – Part Six

The King of Every Kingdom – Around the world on a very small motorcycle

With J. Peter “The Bear” Thoeming


Last issue The Bear made the journey from Malaysia into Thailand, which wasn’t without it’s mishaps included a motorcycle crash and broken shoulder blade. Now the trip continues in Thailand.


You know how people are always saying, “You should have been in Bali (or wherever) back in the day”? Well, you should have been in Patong.

Hangovers abating, we rode through country like a Chinese woodcut with giant, almost unbelievably steep limestone outcrops flanking the road. Entertainment at our lunch stop was a couple of local lads trying to teach us how to pronounce Phangnga. You try it!

Around the world with The Bear Peter Thoeming Part
Parking in the hallway of a hotel, up country Thailand. Quite normal service.

They were agog when we lit our pipes. The Governor of the province, it seemed, smoked a pipe, so no one else did—the neighbours might think they were getting above themselves. We had another beer in the Governor’s honour and then the lights went out—just a power failure, not a sign of official disfavour. Well, I guess.

The next day we rode on to the ‘Holiday Paradise’ of Phuket Island, where we got directions for Patong Beach, the alleged hippy hangout, and rode out along an atrocious dirt track for a few miles. Right at the end was Patong Beach; we knew it was that because there was an enormous neon sign saying ‘Patong Beach Hotel’.

The hotel was inhabited by Germans on package tours, but we checked in at the rather more modest Palmgarten and invaded the bar pavilion to sample some more Mekong—some people never learn—and watch the first squalls of the monsoon bending the leaves of the palms.

This is a somewhat melancholy occupation, but in a good way. A few days of it convinced us that we’d better move on or be rained in, so we said goodbye to Sai Jai, the Thai lady in charge, and her assistants.

Charlie had become rather, shall we say, friendly with one of these ladies and left her an esoteric Australian T-shirt. Both of us felt better for the rest and made an impressive 573km to Thap Sakae on our first day. On my bicycle tour, I had inadvertently spent a night in a brothel here, which had turned out to be a good hotel as well. I couldn’t find it again, so we settled for another lovely old timber hotel, all the wood lovingly oiled and spotless.

Around the world with The Bear Peter Thoeming Part
Leading by the nose…

By the time we got to Bangkok, I had something else besides my shoulder to worry about—sunstroke. How do you get sunstroke while wearing a crash helmet? By exposing the base of your neck to the sun in the space below your helmet, that’s how.

I had been wearing only a singlet on top and the vicious sun had cooked my spinal fluid. It sounds worse than it was, actually; I just felt deathly ill for a few days and couldn’t keep any food down. One way to lose weight. After I recovered, Charlie picked up a case of Bangkok belly. Another way to lose weight.

The city itself was, and I imagine still is, slowly disintegrating. Roads and footpaths were crumbling, the klongs or canals were stinking cesspits and as for the power lines… there was a bit of a thunderstorm when we arrived, and some of the power lines were being blown together by the wind and were fusing, spitting sparks across the road and writhing in the air as they melted.

Most street corners have their tangle of old, discarded wires aloft, ends waving in the breeze. Who knows which ones are live? We booked into the pleasantly third worldly Sri Hualampong Hotel at the main railway station and our bikes once more found a home in the lobby, the desk clerk lovingly spreading newspapers under them.

While I was getting over the sunstroke, I lay in bed and listened to the frequent rainstorms drumming on the tin roof of the factory next door. I also drank gallons of the fresh tea that comes with the room.

Once recovered, I sat downstairs in the lobby restaurant drinking beer and making occasional forays out into the city. Strange as it may sound, Bangkok is a stimulating, fascinating place even though it is falling apart or perhaps because it is….

Around the world with The Bear Peter Thoeming Part
When these guys are not tied up they’ll steal the tools right out of your hands.

The only thing that really makes it possible to live in Bangkok is the fact that it’s inhabited by Thais. No one else could possibly be so stubborn and yet so gentle and relaxed in the insane traffic. No one else would be cool enough to survive. My hat goes off to the lot of them.

Not being Thais, we were quite glad to be taking the road out and heading north to Chiang Mai. Within the first 30km we counted four buses that had dived into the rice paddies by the side of the road. One of the locals with whom we discussed Thai road safety – by pointing and shaking an open hand – indicated to us that that was life. Or not, of course. Mai pen rai.

After that, as we turned off to the ancient capital of Ayutthaya, traffic eased up a little. So did the rain. Ayutthaya is worth visiting for its more or less well-preserved temples and Buddhas, monuments to the lavish devoutness of Thailand’s Buddhist rulers. But don’t buy the soft drinks.

Being located at a major tourist stop, the refreshment stand charges up to ten times the prices common elsewhere…

For some reason I developed a craving for a tomato sandwich on black bread during our ride on to Tak. Thai tomatoes are weedy, weevil-eaten woody midgets and Thai bread is dry, sweet and indescribably awful. So that was one impossible dream.

Around the world with The Bear Peter Thoeming Part
Markets are a daily thing, so you can always buy fresh food.

Our hotel in Tak was another of those marvelous all-timber buildings, the wood hand-polished and lacquered; probably a dreadful fire risk, but so lovely. We reached Chiang Mai the next day after dodging in and out of the clouds along the mountain road between Thoen and Li.

Like most Thai roads this one was quite well surfaced and twisted enough to make for interesting riding. It was also lined with forests of dripping, ghostly mountain bamboo.

I’d love to know why they put direction signs so far past intersections in Thailand. Why not right at the crossroads? This way, you never know if you’ve taken the wrong turn until you’re a hundred yards past the fork, where you have to turn around and try your chances on another track, and go through the same thing again. It’s like a game. Hey ferang, you think you’re so smart?

Our base in Chieng Mai was the Chumpon Guest House, a spotless building with a common room, a garage and constantly available iced water. They did our washing for us, too. We found ourselves a tailor in town and ordered polyester safari suits with long sleeves. You think this is weird? It is not.

I have this theory that you get better treatment at borders when you dress up, so we were taking advantage of the cheap tailors. A couple of days passed pleasantly with visits to the working elephants, who unlike the ones in ‘ elephant refuges’ in Malaysia seemed pretty well off and content, the waterfalls and the endless ‘antique’ shops that dot the town.

Around the world with The Bear Peter Thoeming Part
Fishing boats are fishing boats, no matter where you are. Well, kind of.

I bought a Buddha’s head which, I was assured, was a genuine antique. When I expressed concern about being allowed to take a genuine antique out of the country, the salesman assured me that it wasn’t that kind of genuine.

A reminder of a few years earlier when I was shopping in Chicken Street in Kabul and overheard a salesman insisting that “Of course it is a genuine antique! I made it myself!”

The night after we picked up our suits, we went on a spree. This mainly involved having dinner at the Chalet, a ritzy French restaurant. We felt we deserved it, and what’s the good of new clothes if you can’t show them off?

Dinner was a huge success with pepper steak and steak Dijonnaise set off beautifully by a ’73 Medoc. It cost a fortune, but we felt like kings when we walked out. This sort of thing is highly recommended on any bike trip. Get out there and live it up every now and then, and a tent in the rain will be all the more acceptable for it.

I sent my mother a buffalo leather cutout figure from a shadow puppet play. The Australian Customs opened it, I later discovered. I wonder what they thought I was sending my saintly old mum from Thailand?

On the way back down to Bangkok we visited another ancient capital, Sukothai—Thailand is lousy with ancient capitals—which was pretty, with the ruins all laid out in a grassy park that rather reminded me of Khajuraho in India.

Around the world with The Bear Peter Thoeming Part
I hate to think how much air pollution is due to joss sticks…

At the entrance, a policeman showed a rather unhealthy interest in the contents of my camera case. I fought off his increasingly stern demands to let him dig through it and was greatly relieved when we got away.

At this stage, apart from my spark plug burning out and being replaced and a slight oil leak around the head gasket on Charlie’s bike, we had had no mechanical problems. That wonderful state continued, too.


But while the bikes did their job well, our riders didn’t always… read about it next installment….

Source: MCNews.com.au

2019 Husqvarna Svartpilen 701 | Road Test Review

2019 Husqvarna Svartpilen
With a taller, wider handlebar than its sportier Vitpilen siblings and reasonably placed footpegs, the Svartpilen puts the rider in position to comfortably tackle both traffic and twisties alike. Photos by Kevin Wing.

Different is good. What would our world be like if the only ice cream flavors were chocolate and vanilla? A life without Denali Mint Moose Tracks or Cherry Garcia would be rather bland indeed. And that’s why bikes like Husqvarna’s Svartpilen 701 excite me: it’s a refreshing antidote to the homogeny we can often detect creeping into our lives.

Husqvarna, founded in Sweden in 1689 as a manufacturer of guns and, since 1903, motorcycles, is probably best known for its off-road models, but after its motorcycle division’s acquisition by KTM in 2013 it decided to make a return to the street bike market — with a decidedly Scandinavian flair. Its current lineup of four street models includes the café racer-styled Vitpilen 401 and 701, the Svartpilen 401  scrambler and the Svartpilen 701.

Powered by the 693cc liquid-cooled single used in KTM’s 690 Duke and 690 Enduro, the Svartpilen 701 might be best described as a Swedish street tracker, complete with vestigial number plate on the right side, and its 18-inch front, 17-inch rear cast wheels are shod with the same Pirelli MT60 RS tires as those found on other street-oriented but off-road-flavored bikes like Ducati’s Scrambler lineup.

The harder you look at it, the more oddities — or art, per the eye of the beholder — you see. The engine is clutched within a tubular steel trellis frame — nothing outlandish there, but everything from there up (and back) is rendered in a futuristic blend of straight lines and curves, a departure from the origami angles of its KTM cousins.

2019 Husqvarna Svartpilen
Love it or hate it, you’ve gotta admit the Svartpilen 701 looks like nothing else on the road. Bonus: it’s a hoot to ride too!

Greg’s Gear
Helmet: Nolan N86
Jacket: Fly Racing Airraid
Pants: Fly Racing Terra Trek
Boots: Fly Racing Milepost II

The hard, nearly 33-inch-high seat makes ample use of the straight lines, including on its edges: uncomfortable at stops but surprisingly livable with feet on pegs and hands on the wide, slightly swept-back handlebar, at least for an hour or so at a time. No matter, you can’t even pretend that this is a touring bike, and at its intended purpose — carving up city traffic and twisty, technical roads — it succeeds in spades.

Fully adjustable WP suspension, though it boasts 5.9 inches of travel front and rear, is stiff and sporty, even at its softest settings. The throttle-by-wire EFI, pushing high-octane fuel through one big 50mm throttle body, prefers a heavy hand and higher rpm; a couple of times I felt some herky-jerkiness rolling back on out of a corner if I let the engine speed drop too far. There’s a slipper clutch if you like to keep your left hand active, plus an up/down quickshifter if you don’t, and traction control and ABS can be disabled if you so choose, although it’s all or nothing; you can’t disable/enable them separately. 

The 4-valve single spins out an entertaining 72.4 horsepower at 8,200 rpm and almost 51 lb-ft of torque at 6,800, making the lithe 368-pound Svartpilen 701 gobs of fun and very easy to toss around, even for someone my size. Speaking of which, you may be looking at these road test photos and wondering if I ate the wrong mushroom in Wonderland, gaining several inches and more than several pounds. Not to worry, that’s Senior Editor Drevenstedt riding as my body double, since I was finishing up a European tour when the photo shoot occurred.

2019 Husqvarna Svartpilen
Wrapped in a steel trellis frame, the 693cc liquid-cooled single spools up quickly and the key to the engine’s smoothness is dual counterbalancers.

The Svartpilen and I got to know each other on the twisty roads of the Santa Monica Mountains, where I became smitten with its ruthless efficiency and seemingly effortless handling — as long as we were keeping the speeds below about 75 mph. Not a touring bike.

And as its looks might suggest, the Black Arrow (in Swedish, svart = black, pilen = arrow) isn’t without its quirks. For starters, fit-and-finish is a bit hit-or-miss…for example, both the Brembo front brake lever and Magura hydraulic clutch lever are adjustable, but the neighboring switchgear feels cheap and plasticky. The LED headlight and taillight are svelte and modern, but the single round LCD instrument is poorly lit with small numbers that are hard to read at a glance, and the buttons to change/reset the display are difficult to use. I also found the fuel gauge to be a bit pessimistic, with the range to empty requiring about a mile of riding after the bike was shut off/restarted before displaying again.

2019 Husqvarna Svartpilen
LCD instrument contains plenty of useful info, but is difficult to read and sticks out like a designer’s afterthought.

As personality traits go, these are quirks, however, not fatal flaws, and they disappeared pretty quickly when I was barreling up the canyon with a grin plastered across my silly face. For something so lightweight, the Svartpilen conveys a reassuring stability even as it’s flung left-to-right-to-left, the 72-ish horses being enough to keep an experienced rider entertained without feeling shortchanged by things like speed limits. A big 320mm front brake disc with 4-piston radial Brembo caliper and 240mm rear with a single-piston Brembo are more than up to the task if you do feel things getting out of hand.

After the fun is done, parked at the beach with the sun slipping under the pier and into the Pacific, I could sit and admire its rear three-quarter profile until darkness sent me home. Yes, different is good, and in a vanilla world it’s nice to get a bowl of Sea Salt Caramel now and then.

2019 Husqvarna Svartpilen
Admiring the sunset over the Pacific after a day of canyon carving on the Svartpilen 701.

2019 Husqvarna Svartpilen 701 Specs

Base Price: $11,999
Warranty: 2 yrs., 24,000 miles
Website: husqvarna-motorcycles.com

Engine

Type: Liquid-cooled single
Displacement: 693cc
Bore x Stroke: 105.0 x 80.0mm
Compression Ratio: 12.8:1
Valve Train: SOHC, 4 valves
Valve Insp. Interval: 6,200 miles
Fuel Delivery: EFI w/ 50mm throttle body
Lubrication System: Wet sump, 1.8-qt. cap.
Transmission: 6-speed, hydraulically-actuated wet slipper clutch
Final Drive: X-ring chain

Electrical

Ignition: Electronic
Charging Output: 300 watts max.
Battery: 12V 8.6AH

Chassis

Frame: Chromium-molybdenum tubular steel, aluminum swingarm
Wheelbase: 56.5 in.
Rake/Trail: 25 degrees/4.7 in.
Seat Height: 32.9 in.
Suspension, Front: 43mm USD fork, fully adj., 5.9-in. travel
Rear: Single link-type shock, fully adj., 5.9-in. travel
Brakes, Front: Single 320mm floating disc w/ radial 4-piston caliper & ABS
Rear: Single 240mm disc w/ 1-piston floating caliper & ABS
Wheels, Front: Cast, 3.00 x 18 in.
Rear: Cast, 5.00 x 17 in.
Tires, Front: 100/80-R18
Rear: 160/60-R17
Wet Weight: 368 lbs.
Load Capacity: 403 lbs.
GVWR: 771 lbs.

Performance

Fuel Capacity: 3.2 gals., last 0.7 gal. warning light on
MPG: 91 AKI min. (low/avg/high) 53.6/58.4/63.2
Estimated Range: 187 miles
Indicated RPM at 60 MPH: 4,000

Source: RiderMagazine.com

Randy Mamola’s Cagiva C589 Racer

With Phil Aynsley


The Cagiva brothers began their quest for 500cc World Championship glory in 1978 with a modified RG500 Suzuki as the base machine. This was followed at the final race of the 1980 season with the C1 – a bike built around a much modified Yamaha TZ500 motor.

Cagiva Randy Mamola PA CagivaC
Randy Mamola’s Cagiva C589 Racer from 1989

It wasn’t until 1981 that a completely in-house design appeared, the 2C2. It featured a transverse four-cylinder motor (outside cylinders reversed) with four disc-valves mounted above the gearbox and driven by toothed belts.

Cagiva Randy Mamola PA CagivaC
The C589 produced 150hp with the bike weighing just 122kg
Cagiva Randy Mamola PA CagivaC
Cagiva had started with an RG500 powerplant, before using a modified TZ500 and finally their own powerplant in 1981.

1982 saw the troublesome straight four dropped mid season for a new square-four design and resulted the team’s first top ten finish – by Jon Ekerold at Hockenheim.

Cagiva Randy Mamola PA CagivaC
Originally a straight four Cagiva moved to a V4 in 1982 halfway through the season
Cagiva Randy Mamola PA CagivaC
Randy Mamola on the C589

1985 saw the introduction of Cagiva’s first V4 design in the C10. The 90 degree motor used twin crankshafts and was housed in a frame similar to the Yamaha’s Deltabox. The V-angle was reduced to 58 degrees for 1987’s C587 which enabled the whole bike to be more compact. Didier De Radigues scored a fourth place finish in the Brazilian GP.

Cagiva Randy Mamola PA CagivaC
Mamola would claim the team their first podium in 1988 in Spa on the C588
Cagiva Randy Mamola PA CagivaC
Features included a banana swingarm as seen here on the C589, alongside a stronger frame

The team’s first podium came in 1988 with the C588 at Spa with Randy Mamola. He also had three other top ten places. The bike featured a ‘banana’ swingarm together with a stronger frame, more compact motor and a new ‘one piece’ bodywork design by Massimo Tamburini.

Cagiva Randy Mamola PA CagivaC
The sealed ‘one-piece’ bodywork continued to the C589 in 1989
Cagiva Randy Mamola PA CagivaC
The horizontal rear shock absorber layout proved a mistake

The C589 seen here continued with Tamburini’s sealed bodywork (foreshadowed by his Ducati Paso design), but the chassis employed a horizontal rear shock absorber layout which proved to be a mistake as it compromised both the steering geometry and weight distribution making it difficult for the riders to get the motor’s higher power output to the ground.

Cagiva Randy Mamola PA CagivaC
With the rear shock limiting the ability to get power to the ground, results were below expectations, finishing 18th
Cagiva Randy Mamola PA CagivaC
The shock layout did help Mamola deliver spectacular wheelies throughout the season

As a result Mamola finished the season in 18th and spent most of the season pulling spectacular wheelies to entertain the crowd (his best result was seventh in Yugoslavia).

The Cagiva C589 had a dry weight of 122kg and made 150hp at 12,000rpm.

Cagiva Randy Mamola PA CagivaC
Randy Mamola’s Cagiva C589 Racer from 1989
Cagiva Randy Mamola PA CagivaC
Randy Mamola’s Cagiva C589 Racer from 1989
Cagiva Randy Mamola PA CagivaC
Randy Mamola’s Cagiva C589 Racer from 1989
Cagiva Randy Mamola PA CagivaC
Randy Mamola’s Cagiva C589 Racer from 1989
Cagiva Randy Mamola PA CagivaC
Randy Mamola’s Cagiva C589 Racer from 1989
Cagiva Randy Mamola PA CagivaC
Randy Mamola’s Cagiva C589 Racer from 1989
Cagiva Randy Mamola PA CagivaC
Randy Mamola’s Cagiva C589 Racer from 1989
Cagiva Randy Mamola PA CagivaC
Randy Mamola’s Cagiva C589 Racer from 1989

Source: MCNews.com.au