DAVID PENHALE FOR THE TORONTO STAR
Once you master the complicated ritual-like ignition procedure, the Vincent Rapide is an effortless ride. The engine quickly settles into a steady and relaxed gallop.
Most classic British motorcycles are pretty cool, but something about a Vincent makes me want to jump up and down and wag my tail.
Google "Rollie Free" to see a picture of Rollie on his Vincent Black Lightning on the Bonneville Salt Flats in Utah, setting a motorcycle speed record of 241 km/h back in 1948, laying flat on the seat wearing his bathing suit, a shower cap and slippers. They don't make 'em like that anymore - bike or rider.
The last Vincent rolled off the assembly line almost 60 years ago, but they're still spoken of with reverence and in hushed tones wherever motorcyclists get together. Even the emblem on the gas tank displays attitude and arrogance - it simply says "The Vincent."
Vincents were not only the world's fastest production motorcycle, they were technologically advanced for their day and superbly over-engineered.
Vincent never actually put a year of manufacture on the motorcycles - they went by series and were upgraded as various technological improvements were phased in. Series A was pre-World War II, series B was post-war and series C debuted in 1949.
Recently, I rode a Vincent Series C Rapide owned by Bar Hodgson, producer of the North American International Motorcycle Supershow. I'm usually leery of riding older motorcycles because the good old days are long gone and they weren't that good the first time around.
But the Vincent surprised me. With the exception of the brakes, the Rapide would be a reasonable streetbike today - once you master the complicated starting procedure. First, open the fuel taps, prime the front carburetor for four seconds, then tickle the rear carb for three seconds. Engage both chokes. Pull in the compression release. No namby-pamby electric starter here, so lift the right footpeg and swing the kick-start lever out. Kick three times. Kick slowly to bring the front cylinder up to compression, add just a teensy bit of throttle and kick hard once more. You're doing everything but drawing a pentagram around the motorcycle with chicken blood.
Hodgson ably performed the ritual and the 998cc, air-cooled V-twin rumbled into life on the first kick, even though it had been sitting for over a month. Of course, oil had migrated past the check valve and filled the sump, engulfing us in blue smoke for a moment.
Once warmed up, the Vincent is ready to go. Pull the amazingly light clutch, lift "up for first" on the right side gearchange, feed in some throttle and the Rapide effortlessly glides away, building speed quickly and smoothly. For second and third gear, push the shift lever down.
The needle on the huge Smith's chronometric speedometer tick-tick-ticks its way across the dial (much like the second hand on a watch, rather than a smooth sweep) and soon I'm in fourth - or top gear at a relaxed and vibration-free 97 kilometres per hour.
Legend has it that when riding a Vincent, you feel a power-pulse "every other lamppost" and I notice the engine has a definite cadence, as if the motorcycle has settled into a steady and relaxed gallop.
The ride is surprisingly comfortable, the hydraulically damped girder forks are unexpectedly supple over frost heaves, pavement irregularities and railway crossings, although it seems odd to see the headlight shell and speedo moving as the suspension goes up and down.
The rear suspension is a cantilever type with twin hydraulic dampers (decades ahead of its time) and, combined with the semi-sprung seat, the ride is firm but still functional. The rear suspension on most modern cruisers comes off as harsh and ineffective when compared to the 55-year-old Vincent.
Where most motorcycles of the day had single leading shoe drum brakes front and rear, the Vincent has four separate drums - two on each wheel. A firm squeeze on the lever results in casual deceleration - brakes of the day were truly the first anti-lock systems. Anticipate your braking requirements well in advance and do not deviate from the plan.
The handling was stable, although the steering feels a little strange, probably not helped by the odd 20-inch front and 19-inch rear wheels with very skinny rubber. The wheelbase is a relatively short 1,415 millimetres and dry weight is listed at 206 kilograms, a lightweight compared to modern 1000cc V-twins.
Virtually everything about the Vincent is unusual. There's no frame as such - just an oil tank "spine" where the suspension hangs off. Both axles have T-handles for tool-less wheel removal and the hinged rear fender makes this task even easier. There are left and right sidestands, along with a built-in, pivoting rear stand, secured to the rear fender by another T-handle.
The Vincent Owners Club deserves a lot of the credit for keeping these motorcycles around as virtually every part for a Vincent is available through the membership.
Vincents are among the most desirable and collectible of all classic motorcycles and prices have gone through the roof. Any Vincent in running condition will sell for between 35 and 50 large and, at a recent auction, a high-performance Black Shadow fetched a cool $92,000.
After riding the Rapide, I was totally impressed and commented on the power, the comfort and the suspension.
Hodgson laughed and summed it up perfectly: "Were they ahead of their time or what?"