Frank Westworth on the Triumph TR6

Hutch’s workshop tips A dragonfly refuses to come apart and the manual doesn’t help

1962 TRIUMPH TR6SS One careful owner

Marque enthusiasts are knowledgeable folk, and always have their own views of the top bikes from their favoured few. Frank was delighted to try out this Triumph TR6SS, a machine with a load of history…

Chris Spaett is my friend who runs a

business buying and selling old motorcycles. I borrow lots of these motorcycles so I can learn what they’re like and can then share that hopefully entertaining and possibly amusing understanding with you. We also get on like a house on fire, mainly due to a shared and sometimes obscure sense of humour.

One thing we do not share, strangely, is our taste in motorcycles.

Like most enthusiastic traders, it is hard to justify being in the old bike business if you’re not a bit batty about old bikes. Chris has a collection of motorcycles which are not for sale – he calls this his private collection, and like most private collections, including my own, it varies a little from time to time. Bikes come and go. Happily, my collection contains no bikes anyone else would want, and Chris’s contains bikes I could never afford. Another thing we have in common is that every so often we find an exceptional machine. I usually refer to these as The Ones To Have, whereas Chris calls them Keepers. Journalists get paid by the word… And thus, it was that when an excited email landed from Chris, fair bubbling with delight about some old lunker which had dropped into his possession and which he announced was most certainly a Keeper, I was intrigued. Not so much by the bike itself, which is yet another variation on the well-trod theme of the Triumph twin, but by the features which make

Above: As it is now...

Middle: But back in 1962, it was stripped down for the Silverstone Speed Trials of June 30, where it did surprisingly well

Right: Mr Clotworthy also ran in the 1963 National Rally

it somehow special. Special to a chap who has vast experience of bikes ancient and modern, who could have any bike he ever wanted, and who rides more bikes than I have hot curries. That last statement is probably not an exaggeration! Blimey.

I have a theory about test riding motorcycles. My theory has it that it is almost impossible to be objective about the bike unless it is actually bad or unpleasant to ride. And there are quite a few of those. In my last-ever story, I shall tell you all about the worst of them. Oh yes. If a bike is great but the roads are greasy, then the riding experience can be less than marvellous. If a bike is merely good, not great, but the sun is glaring, the roads empty and entertaining, and the owner is a great guy, then it is hard to go home without over-rosy impressions. This is why folk like me try hard to ride lots and lots of bikes and tend to compare them, filtering out the delight – or otherwise – of the day. Initial impressions also count for a lot. Chris is a bike trader; he knows how to present a machine to its advantage. I arrived, steamy but exhilarated aboard my own unmentionable Tiger, after a 90-mile scrape and scratch along some good, amusing and fast roads, and there in the driveway leaned this vision, glinting arrogantly in the sunshine. Had I been in the market for a Turner twin, my wallet would have been in my hand at that point. They are lovely to look at. Real eye candy, as Americans and young folk say.

And because he knows me well and knows my taste in motorcycles as well as I do (do you have friends like that? I do recommend it), Chris had exercised his sense of humour and dug out another of his own bikes. Leaning against the wall was a genuine AJS Big Port…

“Great Triumph, Chris!” I announced, as I tottered about the unfriendly gravel on the unmentionable (and very tall) Tiger. He grinned at me, walked over to the AJS, slipped it into gear and casually bump-started it. Didn’t say a word. Boom-boom-boom it went. The engine’s exposed mechanicals rattled and whirred away. This is an unkind thing to do to a chap who is a great fan of AJS machinery but who is trying hard to understand (and share with you) the appeal of a Turner twin. I ignored him.

“D’you want to try this while you’ve got your helmet on?” Such an innocent question. Such a sly move. I resisted. Triumph today. This Triumph. The AJS? The genuine Big Port? Another day. You have been warned: there will be a burst of insane AJS anorakness next year. Early next year.

This Triumph is quite an unusual one, and not a model you might expect to stumble over every time you visit a gathering of the old bike clan. It’s a TR6SS. A 1962 TR6SS, to be precise. You have instantly spotted that 1962 is the last year of the pre-unit 650 engine, and indeed of the rather short-lived duplex frame.

Riding slowly for photographs down the drive of a stately home...

You may also have recognised, quite correctly, that the TR6 single carb engine is a sweet one, less fussy than its T120 stablemate, and that the combination of the magneto to light the fires and an alternator to lighten the darkness is a good one. It’s a great bike, then, so is this why it is a Keeper? Well, yes, that’s all good stuff, but it’s not the entire reason for this machine’s elevation to Chris’s collection. This is why: “This TR6SS was new and first registered on March 6, 1962. It was sold by King’s of Oxford on April 18, 1962, to one Martin Clotworthy, who then owned the bike until it was sold in 2007 to a mutual acquaintance in the trade. He then sold it to me, partially restored but not well done. I then sold it to a chap who basically re-did most of the work and more or less finished the bike over a period of a couple of years. He had the engine professionally rebuilt, and I bought it back earlier this year and finished it off. My work included making the ‘professionally restored’ engine oil tight. It previously leaked like a sieve…”

So, this is as near to being that fabled ‘one careful owner’ motorcycle as you can get without it actually having been owned by just one careful chap. Mr Clotworthy plainly liked it; indeed, he kept it for 45 years. So far, so good. What really fired up the collector in Chris was the history the TR6 came with. Mr Clotworthy used the bike both as his regular transport and to take part in many competitive events, such as the Silverstone Speed Trials on June 30, 1962. He was entered in the One Hour Solo Motorcycle Class and completed a total of 38 laps – the equivalent of equal third out of 52 entrants. He even wrote about his experience in three issues of Nacelle, the Triumph Owners’ Motor Cycle Club magazine.

“He also went to the SSDT on the bike in May 1962 and entered in the Land’s End Trial over a period of many years, including 1963, 1964, 1965 and 1971. He completed the National Rally in 1963, as well as using his Triumph for holidays and so on,” says Chris. “The bike came complete with the original buff logbook, its

The oil pressure switch while not running (left) and running (right)

“He had the engine professionally rebuilt, and I bought it back earlier this year and finished it off. My work included making the ‘professionally restored’ engine oil tight. It previously leaked like a sieve…”

Early (top) and late (below) Duplex frames handbook and parts catalogue, and even the Dunlop Rubber Tyre Company’s Tyre Guide!” That is some excellent provenance.

The machine is also very stock; it is as close to standard condition as Chris can get it at the moment, and as he enjoys researching and then locating exactly the correct parts, I guess it’s about as close to a reference machine for that year as I’m likely to see.

More from Proud Owner: “As I understand it, the bikes were supplied to the home market with low level Siamese pipes and the larger tank, while the export bikes had a smaller tank with high level pipes. The bike is currently fitted with the high level pipes, but with the original larger tank.”

And if you look through the photos conveniently close to these words, you will observe that in its riding life the Triumph changed exhaust pipes many times. Which does tend to make restoration to ‘original condition’ something of a challenge whenever a machine has been used in regular competition. In any case, “I do have a low level Siamese pipe for the machine,” says Chris. Of course he does.

The machine kicks up really easily, much more easily than you might expect for a twin cylinder engine running an 8.1:1 compression ratio. Plainly, the combination of a sensibly lengthy kick-start and a fairly low first gear ratio (11.2:1) combines with a set of tip-top mechanicals here. I was so impressed by the instant ignition that I wondered aloud whether modern electronicals were lurking hidden inside the

magneto casing. That would be a sensible mod, in my view, especially as the alternator makes conversion to 12v electrics easy, and my experience insists that alternators are more dependable than dynamos.

But I was wrong. This is not an infrequent thing. I was almost sorry I’d asked, because I received a gentle chiding for not knowing that of course the magneto is exactly what it looks like – a magneto – and not only that, did I not know that 1961 saw the end of Triumph’s use of the competition magneto on the TR6? I didn’t. But I do now. Whether it makes me feel better I don’t know.

Fixing me with Enthusiast’s Eye, Chris revealed that “1962 was the last of the pre-unit TR6s and the only pre-unit TR6SSs. They were fitted with rubbermounted oil tanks and the QD headlight attachment was removed. It really was a single carb Bonneville by then.” But it doesn’t ride like a Bonnie. It rides like – a TR6.

I’ll come clean. I do, in fact, like Triumph’s TR6. It does everything I like best about twin-pot British motorcycles. The TR6 is lithe, very quick steering, placid when trundling but smart enough off the blocks if you’re feeling frisky. I’ll come even more clean: a while ago I borrowed a 1969 TR6C from the same Amused Owner and loved it to pieces. I could easily have found space for that particular Trumpet in The Shed had pockets been o’erflowing with spare loot. Which they weren’t, sadly. But that machine was powered by a unit construction engine, held its line brilliantly with its last-of-the-pre-oily-frame frames, and was stopped by that great BSA Group 2ls (twin-leading shoe) stopper. Even though the TR6SS

Top: Easter 1963, and with a change of tyres, the TR6 rides in that year’s Land’s End Trial

Above: Colour film arrived and still Mr Clotworthy kept competing, to the right, surprising a Norton rider!

Right: Land’s End trial again, in 1971 and 1964. Note the exhaust changes sides, the fire extinguisher in 1971, and the neat Craven (?) tank topbox. And a large smile in both, seven years apart!

frame is the last of the duplex devices, the one with the extra top tube added to stop the earlier breaking, it could not be as stable a riding platform as the ‘69, which had been twitched by Doug Hele and his merry man. So, I assumed that this ‘62 model would be less in every way.

Surprise! It was. In my view. Although the engine is very crisp and even though it claims to put out an almost identical 40bhp-plus at an almost identical 6500rpm, it felt less brisk. The gearing may be slightly different, but that’s how it feels. And the non-unit gearbox does not shift ratios as precisely as the later mechanism. The clutches felt much the same. I confess too that I didn’t get the chance to scratch hard on the earlier machine, but it felt fine at the speeds I was able to manage.

The back brake is a lot better than the front one. Everything in the front brake is new, so I shall charitably suggest that it’s running in its linings. But it was nothing like as reassuring as the 2ls excellence on the later bike.

It is not even faintly uncommon for me to ride a bike its owner considers to be the best thing ever in the history of two-wheelers and which leaves me feeling just a little bit underwhelmed. I am faintly fearful that because everything in this machine is new and tight that I am being unfair in not collapsing in awe. It was great to ride, as you would hope for a TR6SS, but it was less stunning to me than was that excellent 1969 model. It is great to look at but is almost too shiny, too visually glamorous, too perfect. How can a bike be too perfect? Maybe it somehow feels too American, even though its British history is sublimely well documented.

I’ll share something else with you. I bet I would have preferred the old stager before it was restored. When its wheels were rusty and with bent rims... when every frame bolt was shouldered and a bit loose... when the engine blew a little oil and the shift was filled with slop... when the suspension was less bounding greyhound and more dozy English Sheepdog.

The bike belongs to Chris, though, and it’s only fair that he gets the last word. “I decided to keep the bike; it’s a Keeper for me. Mainly because of the history, documentation, photos, and because it is obviously very genuine. It rides very nicely; it is a really pleasant, relaxing bike to ride. It is quick enough to use almost anywhere and handles well enough. It is a real antidote to BSA Gold Stars and Velocette Thruxtons. I also feel that with its provenance, it is probably a fairly good investment. I have now covered about 900 miles on it and can’t wait to ride some more!”