Indian Lightweights: The Arrow and Scout

They were the first, they became the greatest and they lost it all.

A Legend is Born

Hedstrom posing with his 1901 Indian Prototype

It was 1902 when the Hendee Manufacturing Company of Springfield, Massachusetts started production of its first motorcycle. It was a 1.75bhp 213cc single-cylinder, with a (then revolutionary) chain drive. They called it the Indian.

It would be another four years before William Harley and Arthur Davidson produced their first motorized bicycle and one year before the Ford Model A started production.

The company was the product of two great men: George Hendee, a bicycle racer and manufacturer of some renown (he won 302 of his 309 races) and engineering genius Carl Oscar Hedstrom who designed and hand-built the first Indian prototype in less than six months.

Under the guidance of Hendee and Hedstrom, The Indian Motorcycle Co. ,as it came to be known, was at the very forefront of engineering, racing and production of motorcycles. In the 1910s it was the largest motorcycle manufacturer in the world.

1929 Indian Scout

With growth came corporate structure and management, and Hendee and Hedstrom’s company started to slip away from them. In retrospect it should come as no surprise that the decline of Indian began with the departure of its two founders. Hedstrom left in 1913, Hendee in 1916, both because of disagreements with the board of directors over the direction of the company.

With the onset of World War I the board decided to sell most of its line to the US government effectively eliminating domestic availability of the brand. By the 1920s Indian had lost its top spot to Harley Davidson.

Nevertheless, the 20s were a boom period and Indian rode the wave to great success producing its best known models: the now legendary Scout, Chief and Four.

With the advent of World War II Indian tried to get a foothold in the military market. Although they delivered Chiefs and Scouts for the war effort, they were never able to unseat the Harley Davidson WLA as the motorcycle of choice for the military.

In 1945, with the war over the Indian Motorcycle Co. was on shaky financial ground and was sold to Ralph B. Rogers.

The Last of the Indians

1949 249 Indian Super Scout

Under Rogers’ direction Indian ceased production of the Scout and in 1949 began offering small displacement lightweight motorcycles. Perhaps he was taking a page from BMW who in the same year came back from the brink of bankruptcy thanks to its small displacement bike the R24. But for Indian this was the beginning of the end of what had been the first and greatest American motorcycle company.

Indian developed three new models: The 149 Arrow and Super Scout 249, both in 1949, and in 1950 the 250 Warrior. These models were not developed to the standards of their predecessors, and were plagued by quality and reliability issues. They irreparably tarnished Indian’s reputation.

At the same time the post-war devaluation of the British pound resulted in low-priced imports from the likes of BSA and Triumph. Indian simply could not compete.

It came as no surprise when in 1953 the Indian Motorcycle Co. stopped all production and shut down.

Epitaph

Indian Motorcycles Postage Stamp

It’s easy to be nostalgic about Indian Motorcycles. It was started by two enthusiasts who, driven by passion, invented something truly new. It’s a simple machine evolved from their first passion, the bicycle. All parts are exposed, carefully engineered, crafted and purposeful. It defined classic American styling, embodying freedom, strength, beauty and truth. Through relentless innovation it became the greatest, and largest.

And it failed.

Perhaps because the control moved away from the founders, perhaps because of strategic missteps, or maybe it was economic forces outside of its control. But it disappeared, and as such will remain a beautiful fleeting memory, an American icon.

Joseph and Stephanie Gallegos and their Kawasaki Ninja 250s

I am not a thrill seeker. I never have been. Ever since I was a kid, I hated roller coasters, avoided horror movies, I didn’t drink any alcohol until my late twenties, I have never smoked, never done any drugs, never experimented. I never pushed the envelope. I was a band geek. I loved Star Trek. I wouldn’t consider myself an adrenaline junkie.

This airplane has the highest approach speeds of any civilian aircraft in production. It will outclimb any other airplane in the sky, except a military jet fighter.

I don’t fly this airplane for the thrills, although it can be exciting. I fly it because I love to fly. I flew a Cessna Caravan in Hawaii for years, and that airplane was about as sporty as a Dodge Caravan. I have been a pilot for over a third of my life. I know that Lindbergh was spot on when he said, ”Science, freedom, beauty, adventure, What more could you ask of life?”

“Science, freedom, beauty, adventure:

What more could you ask of life?”

Now I say I am not a thrill seeker, yet I love to ride motorcycles. To me it is not about the thrill. It is a simple extension of that love of freedom, beauty, and adventure. Adventure is not the same as thrills, just as an adventure movie is not the same as a thriller.

For someone who has a love of machines as I do, a motorcycle represents an almost Zen approach to mechanized transport. It is a simple machine. It is not much more than a bicycle with a motor. There are many interpretations and variations in design, from the chrome plated rolling work of art cruisers, with their loud belching pipes, the RV like Touring bikes, with built-in Stereos, heated handgrips and engines larger than those found in cars, to the high pitched sewing machine whine of the supersport bikes that look like they are racing even when standing still.

There are many parallels I see between aviation and motorcycling. First and foremost, for some reason the public has major misunderstandings about both endeavors. Both activities are seen as being somewhat dangerous. Not a single person was killed in a Western-built commercial aircraft in 2010. Flying is the SAFEST form of transport out there, yet there are folks you probably know that will not get on a plane, or are scared of airplanes for no logical reason. A person driving is more of a danger to themselves and others than anyone flying, yet there is a perception of danger with aviation.

I have actually crash landed an airplane. I survived without injuries to myself or anyone else. It was more a forced landing due to an engine failure on a Downtown LA freeway at rush hour, but that’s another story. Was it thrilling? YES! Thrilling is not good. I do not want to thrill myself, my passengers or motorists on the Harbor Freeway in Los Angeles.

Motorcycling is more dangerous than flying. It is more dangerous than driving an automobile. In a car you have a cage around you. The motorcycle offers no such protection. You don’t have airbags, a seat belt, crumple zones or reinforced steel beams between you and a collision hazard. A motorcycle is more nimble, quicker, and stops better than any car. Those attributes somewhat offset the lack of protection, but in reality safety comes down to one thing. The rider.

Motorcycling can be a wonderful activity. My wife and I have ridden tens of thousands of miles without incident on 6 different bikes over the years. She put over 14,000 miles on her Kawasaki Ninja 250 in one year!

“…good judgment is more important than skill.”

Some would say that we have been lucky. Motorcycles are dangerous. You are gambling with your life. I don’t dispute that. However I will say that any activity can be made safer or more dangerous by the approach and attitude of the person involved. I want to be on the this Good Earth as long as possible. I always wear safety gear. Full face helmet, armored jacket, gloves, pants, boots, the works. When it comes to motorcycling, an assertive risk management approach should be used just as is used in any other high risk environment. I had an old flight instructor that used to tell me, “Anything dangerous can be done safely.” His comment may be taken a bit incredulously by some, but his mantra has proven itself to be true more than not.

One of the lessons that a motorcylist, just like a pilot should learn early on is that good judgment is more important than skill. Using good judgment helps you to avoid situations where you would need to use extraordinary skill to survive. A conservative safety minded approach to riding will matter more over the long term life of a rider than any displays of skill.

I leave the thrill seeking to those who want to show off. I have no need to pop wheelies, do burnouts, or race through traffic at triple digit speeds.

I do want to ride twisty mountain roads enjoying the feel of the road beneath me. I love the sound of the motor, the smell of gas and oil, and the challenge of maintaining a proper line through a curve.

There is nothing like a cruise down Pacific Coast Highway, with the wind rippling around your body, the cool salty air soothing your skin, enjoying it all without having to roll down a window.

To me that is what motorcycling is. An adventure. Rarely a thrill. Well, okay, maybe sometimes.

Scott Colosimo was broke and unemployed, but he had a dream of starting his own custom motorcycle company. The man behind Cleveland CycleWerks takes us through how it all started.

And so the story of busted knuckles, sleepless nights and intense moments of insanity begin…

It was a warm night in Cleveland, mid summer 2008, when Scott Colosimo rode his custom build bobber to downtown Cleveland to meet up with some work colleagues at an outdoor patio of a downtown bar.  This is a regular ritual for any biker, anywhere in the world. This night was different though, a friend of mine (Chris Moore also a work colleague) just got done laying down some sick pin striping on the tank and fenders of my new build, and when I parked the bike, it drew a huge crowd.  This was also the 1^st time I had taken the bike out in full kit, as you know custom builders never finish their own bikes.

The question every asked was how much I spent on the bike, expecting some astronomical number like $30,000, but when I told them I had built this bare bones bike for under $5000, people straight up called me a liar, thinking I did not really want to reveal the thousands I spent on parts and labor.  I told them we live in Cleveland, this is blue collar, do it yourself, can’t pay the mortgage land.  Everyone agreed, except the 20 or so older gentlemen who had in-deed spent over $25,000 modifying their bikes, and were now being upstaged by some young punk on a cheep cool bike.

Fast forward a few months it is now 2009, and imagine the exact same work colleagues sitting at the exact same bar, much colder as summer was over and in fact it was just about to snow, but with one slight difference.  We were all just LAID OFF…………….  So, doing what all eternal optimist do, we drank and bitched about how we were the hardest workers, the best people at the company, etc, etc, etc.

Now mind you I had the idea brewing for about 2 years of starting a motorcycle parts company, customizing and fabricating parts by hand to sell to custom shops and over the Internet.

So with nothing to loose, business plan ½ written up, and delusions of grandeur.  I pitched the idea of making bikes just like my custom bike available to the public for under $5000.   Not just parts but to make Cleveland CycleWerks a motorcycle Manufacturer for the people.   The idea was met with excitement but not much more.  Now mind you this was not my 1^st attempt at starting a company, so I was used to my crazy ideas being met with a blasé response, and rolled eyes.

So I go home with my dream well received but no concrete plans to move forward.  I am big thinker, but just about broke, unemployed, and depressed about being laid off for the 1^st time in my life.

The next day I get a call from the former Director of Marketing (Jarrod Streng) who I worked closely with at my former job.  Jarrod and I have always worked well together because of our grand visions and our ability to execute and add our own creative spin.   Jarrod tells me that he has been up all night going over and over this idea.  So Jarrod mentions that he will fund 30 bikes to be built.  At this point I am ecstatic because I now have the funding to start what I have wanted to do since I was 15.  Build bikes full time.

Add a few more months and we are now hand fabricating the prototype in a friends shop down in Ashland, Ohio.  The idea of building 30 bikes has turned into mass production of over 3000 bikes and the beginning of Cleveland CycleWerks as a true motorcycle brand, not just some guy building 1 off parts in his garage.

Here is where we take on another partner (Curtis Ray) and all three of us hop on a flight to China and start looking for manufacturers for our new-formed company.  Side note, We tried to start manufacturing for 6 months in Cleveland, Ohio, but we were told by every company I contacted, and every government agency, that I was either crazy, did not know what I was getting into, or that I looked like I was 16, and to kindly leave their office.  We do have American pride, and we are manufacturing more and more parts in the US.  CCW is truly an American enterprise, and more then 10 people are currently employed because of CCW products, not to mention all of the shipping, logistics and custom builders now building parts for our bikes.

So, now there are 3 Americans traveling to over 50 factories in China looking for the right manufacturer’s to produce various parts, and assemble our product.  We do not know the language, we can not legally drive in this country and I keep asking myself what the hell are we doing here.

Fast forward yet again another 4 months and we have our first batch of production samples on the floor of the factory, yes there were many hardships to overcome, yes I lived in rural China for over 4 months, yes I can now eat like I am Chinese, but we have a bike that is ready for production, and bikes are now being shipped to Texas for EPA testing.

Fast forward yet another 4 months and now it is February 13^th 2010.   Jarrod and I are standing at the Dealer Expo in Indianapolis with our 1^st bike “tha Heist”.  We are proud and excited that we had gone from idea to market in less then 14 months.  The bike is well received, and we have just started sales and distribution worldwide February 2010.

In August 2010, we sign our US Distributor and exclusive CCW brand distribution partner, PIT Motors Ltd.   September 2010, we establish our European Distribution arm, and that same month, Distribution starts in South Africa.

CCW was established with a vision, and that is to give customers, a quality, affordable bike that is beautiful.  A bike that gets more people riding again, and that people are proud to own.  Most of us just want a cool bike to ride that we can afford and be proud of, pretty simple concept.

Kawasaki Ninja 250 Police Edition

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

The Malaysian government recently finalized the purchase of 1000 brand new Ninja 250s for police duty. Given the distinctive (and somewhat unfortunate) “STD X” badge, the new Ninja 250 STD X motorcycles are central to a Motorcycle Patrolling Unit aimed to increase police presence in high crime locations.

We’re not likely to see a troop of 250cc police bikes in the USA where 1000cc + Harleys and Hondas are the norm for the boys in blue. But in Malaysia where 250cc is the top dog of the motorcycle segment, the nimble Ninjas are a perfect tool.

The Ninja 250 STD X is a 2013 model and gets the typical police upgrades: crash bars, sirens, lights, hard storage and custom paint scheme of course.

Source: Twowheelsblog.com

FIM Superbike 2011 by Stan Perec courtesy of FIM

Geneva, Switzerland

The nature of the FIM Superbike World Championship is set to change in 2014. In the interest of simplifying their race offerings FIM intends to eliminate the Superstock 1000 and Superstock 600 series and introduce a new 250cc series.

FIM wants to clearly define Superbike racing as based on production motorycles, in contrast with MotoGP which are prototype bikes. As such it will be tightening up regulations on Superbike and Supersport classes to ensure that they remain essentially production bikes, the kind you can pick up from a local dealer. It will also introduce a production 250cc class – great news for small displacement afficionados.

Source: Motosprint Italy

FIM: The Fédération Internationale de Motocyclisme (International Motorcycling Federation) is the global governing/sanctioning body of motorcycle racing.

Artists’ rendition courtesy of Luca Bar

Bangalore, India

Breaking news from India is that Triumph will be launching a brand new 250cc motorcycle. The announcement comes from Rudhy Siswanto, the President of distributor of Triumph Motorcycles in Indonesia.

Slated for the Indian and Indonesian markets initially, the bike is going to sport a liquid-cooled, twin-cylinder engine and will be manufactured at Triumph plant in Narsapur, India. The bike is expected to have naked styling in line with the KTM Duke 200, and it’s other Indian competitors. It will face fierce competition from the likes of the Kawasaki Ninja 250R and the Honda CBR250R.

We previously broke the story of Triumph intention to develop a 300cc single for the Brazilian market. No news yet on whether this announcment indicates a change in that direciton, or a complementary offering.

In the past we would have said that seeing this bike Stateside would be a pipe dream, but with the Big Four Japanese manufactures in the U.S. 250 segment, anything is possible. Stay tuned…

Triumph 250cc Motorcycle. Artist’s rendition courtesy Motociclismo Brazil

Source: Motorbeam

Editor’s Note: Guest author and adventurer extraordinaire Lois Pryce treats us to an excerpt from her wonderful book Lois on the Loose – a true account of how she quit her day job at the BBC to ride a Yamaha XT225 from the northernmost tip of Alaska to the southernmost tip of South America. If you like motorcycle adventure books pick up your copy here, and thank me later.

For more on the Yamaha XT225 Serow and Lois’ modifications see below.

Chiapas, Mexico, where my fictitious husband saves the day…

My route took me down the West Coast of the USA to California, from where I would cross into Mexico at the notorious border town of Tijuana, before striking out for Central and South America. As far as I was concerned this was a fine plan, but not everyone shared my enthusiasm – almost every American I met bombarded me with horror stories of death, drugs and violence south of the border.

‘You’ll get robbed!’ ‘Murdered!’ ‘Or worse!’ they exclaimed, horrified at my travel plans.

Due to this catalogue of doom, I entered Mexico terrified, expecting gun-toting bandits and corrupt policemen to jump out from behind every cactus, but it didn’t take me long to realise that the scare stories were based on little, if no fact. Riding down Baja was a blast and the rest of Mexico was turning out to be a breeze (except for the small problem of not bring able to speak Spanish).

So when the policeman flagged me down, I wasn’t too worried. I’d had a couple of brushes with the Mexican bobbies, and they hadn’t roughed me up, squeezed a bribe out of me or attempted anything that could be considered in the slightest bit improper. In fact, one member of the force had even bought me breakfast, finally putting to rest the image of the corrupt, greasy-palmed policia. This latest member of the constabulary was no different; he just wanted to impart some important information to me about the road ahead. Unfortunately, I had no idea what he was talking about.

But he spoke in Spanish to me anyway, gesturing to get his message across, pointing in the direction I was heading, shaking his head and waving his gloved hands in a manner that suggested there was trouble looming. I nodded, pretending I understood, thanked him profusely and carried on. Whatever he’d been trying to tell me, I figured it couldn’t be that serious.

After a while I wondered if I’d got the wrong end of the stick; there didn’t seem to be anything on this road to hinder my journey. What could he have meant? I rode for a mile or so along the empty two-lane highway, passing a few wizened old men ambling along on their donkeys and a farmer herding an unruly bunch of cows. But after a couple of miles I put the whole thing down to a case of miscommunication and forgot all about it.Mexico Landscape

That was, until I came round a bend to discover the tail-end of a lengthy traffic jam. Oh! So this is what he meant. There must be road-works going on I guessed, and with the motorcycle proving itself as the finest form of transport, I whizzed up the side of the mile-long queue to the front, where to my utmost surprise, I found not the gang of swarthy, pickaxe-swinging workmen that I had envisaged, but instead, a mob of rowdy protestors, who, using a combination of themselves, rocks, tree trunks, branches, burnt-out cars and blazing bonfires, had brought the Pan-American Highway to a grinding halt.

Despite the impassioned activity of the demonstrators, the roadblock had something of a fiesta atmosphere, with a few entrepreneurial types selling barbecued corn and overpriced cans of Coke to their captive market. The protestors were chanting and shouting, some of them had linked arms, creating a human barricade across the road. The entire blockade was a family affair with everyone out in force, from granny and granddad down to babies slung on their mother’s backs. But although the atmosphere seemed reasonably good-natured, the message was coming across loud and clear: NOBODY’S GOING ANYWHERE.

In typical laidback fashion, none of the drivers of the trucks and cars seemed to object to the hold up; it was just another day in Mexico. Some of the truckers were taking the opportunity to have a nap in their cabs, while others strolled up and down the queue, chatting to each other. Families sat outside their cars, enjoying an impromptu picnic, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

As I pulled up to the frontline, the noisy crowd waved their arms at me, shouting ‘NO PASAR! NO PASAR!’ and glaring angrily. From the centre of the throng, their leader appeared, a man with twinkling eyes and a face that had seen it all, brown and lined from years of outdoor toil and strenuous roadblock organisation. I had to admire his tenacity.

‘Que pasa’ I asked him. What’s happening?

The jeers of the crowd fell to an excitable hum when I spoke, all eyes turning to their head honcho, as he addressed the foreign muchacha on a motorcycle. Having made my opening gambit in Spanish, the leader understandably assumed I could speak his lingo and launched into what I guessed to be a stirring, rebel-rousing piece of agitprop, if the raised fists and whooping cries of his supporters were anything to go by. I thought it best to put him straight.

‘I only speak a little Spanish’ I explained apologetically in his language. This was one phrase I had learnt pretty quickly.

Undeterred, he continued to bombard me with more unintelligible propaganda.

After I’d listened and nodded for long enough not to be considered rude, I popped the million-peso question.

‘Es possible…?’ I asked him, motioning my request to continue my journey.

He beamed a kindly smile which seemed at odds with the vigorous shaking of his head.

‘No. No pasar’ he replied firmly.

I surveyed the hostile crowd. But curiosity had got the better of them and having dropped the offensive they were now edging towards me, pointing and nudging each other excitedly. The protestors at the front gathered around me, gingerly touching the bike and staring at my map of Mexico. I pointed to our location, and seeing the name of their hometown, they gaped in astonishment, beckoning their fellow campaigners to take a look. I smiled at one of the women and when she smiled back shyly, I realised that this was the moment. I had them in the palm of my hand and if I was going to get through this blockade, it was time to start playing the crowd.

With a big smile I addressed the leader and his followers again in my faltering Spanish,

‘What’s happening?’ I cried, ‘Please may I go through?’

The murmur of the rabble rose to an excited chatter and they stood transfixed as the twinkly-eyed man once again refused my request.

‘No pasar.’

The crowd, deferring to his command, began to ebb away, moving back to their positions.

Damn! I was losing my audience. It was now or never, and I had an idea…

With an exaggerated flourish I whipped out my Spanish dictionary from my luggage and displayed it to the demonstrators, prompting peals of laughter and a hearty cheer. They stared at me engrossed, murmuring to each other, as I quickly flicked through to the ‘H’ section where I found the translation for the magic word. OK, this was it, time for a bit of method acting. Clutching the dictionary to my heart, I imagined myself as the leading lady in a Shakespearean tragedy (not that I’d ever seen any but it didn’t matter at this moment). I stood up on the foot pegs and in what I hoped to be an anguished tone, I delivered my plea to the crowd in their language.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, please may I go through? My HUSBAND…he waits for me in the next town!’

For added effect I pulled off my left glove and raised my bare hand to the protestors, pointing to my fake wedding ring that glinted convincingly under the late afternoon sun. A gasp went up from the female members of the crowd. I turned to them, dewy eyed and pleading. But all eyes were on their leader, as they stood still and silent, awaiting his response.

In the hush I could hear the whirring of insects in the trees and the shriek of exotic birdcall high above me.

The leader looked at his people, then back at me. Our eyes met and I smiled wanly, still in character.

A dog was yapping somewhere in the queue of stationary vehicles. A tinny car radio played a wailing Spanish ballad.

The man turned again to his followers. They hadn’t moved or uttered a sound, still waiting for his decision. I stared at him, steeling myself for the worst, imagining the forthcoming night, or days or weeks even, camped out at the roadblock, hundreds of us drawing straws for the last piece of barbecued corn, starving and thirsty, forced to drink the water from the car radiators…

But just as I was getting carried away with my survivalist nightmare, I was yanked back into reality by an almost imperceptible nod from the leader. A deafening roar erupted from the crowd! The magic sign had been given! I was free to go! The demonstrators leapt into action, cheering and clapping as they hurriedly cleared me a rough path through the debris, waving me on, patting me on the back as I bounced and bumped my way over the remaining rubble. Oh! The roar of the crowd, the smell of the… er…grease. My Oscar winning performance had done the trick!

‘Muchas gracias! Muchas gracias!’ I shouted jubilantly, not daring to look back in case they changed their minds.

I gunned it down a deserted southbound Pan American Highway, hoping to make it to the Guatemalan border before it shut for the night. My heart quickened as signs for la frontera appeared and once again, I felt that stomach-churning excitement of a new country to discover and the thrill of the unknown ahead.

For more on Lois’ incredible adventure in the Americas get your copy of Lois on the Loose here.
Lois continues to ride the globe in search of adventure, you can find out more at www.loisontheloose.com

The Bike: Yamaha XT225 Serow

Lois Pryce describes her ride of choice, and the mods she made to make it work.

Lois Pryce’s Yamaha XT225 Serow

It is a very simple, sturdy but light trail bike with a 4 stroke, single cylinder, air cooled engine. The 31″ seat height is reassuringly low for the shorter legged rider and the fuel economy is impressive with a range of around 130 miles from the 8 litre tank. The Serow’s size, weight and nimble qualities mean it really is the go anywhere bike. You just have to get used to the fact that your top cruising speed will be around 55mph, but who wants to be in a hurry on the road?

There were just a few additions and of course, a luggage system required to turn the Serow from a sprightly trail bike into the mini-expedition machine that I needed. Enlisting the invaluable experience and practical skills of twice-round-the-world motorcyclists, Austin and Gerald Vince of the Mondo Enduro and Terra Circa teams, the following luggage carrying mods were made to the Serow:

• For my main luggage compartment a metal army ammo box (£6 from army surplus shops) was bolted to the rear rack. Metal bars were then bolted to each side of the box to carry two soft pannier bags (borrowed from my bicycle). The end of the rear rack extends far enough behind the box to carry my tent and sleeping mat.
• A home made metal rack was mounted above the headlight to accommodate lightweight items such as my sleeping bag. Small pannier style bags can be attached to each side of the rack to carry items that I will need to access easily, such as camera, maps, food and water.
• To store my tools a small metal box (also from the army surplus shop) was bolted onto the frame using the pillion foot peg mountings to keep the weight low down.

In retrospect, this luggage set-up was too heavy and the weight too high up, which caused some issues with the handling, particularly off-road. By the time I set off on my Africa trip three years later, I had perfected the art of carrying gear on a small trail bike. The most important trick is, of course, to travel light!

Valentino Rossi – 1999 Aprilia RS250

For every competitive rider there are a few years when, as novices, they have to prove to the world that they have what it takes to be among the best. For racing legend Valentino Rossi, these were the Aprilia years.

Scuderia AGV – 1995 Aprilia RS125R

Valentino Rossi was born in Urbino, Italy on February 16th, 1979, and grew up half an hour away in Tavullia. His father Graziano Rossi was himself a motorcycle racer, and won his first Grand Prix race the year Valentino was born. With his own career cut short by injury, Graziano was initially cool to the prospect of his son participating in the sport. Nevertheless, Valentino demonstrated both interest and talent at a young age and was given a minibike for his 10th birthday. He won the regional minibike championship 3 years later.

In 1993, at the age of 14 (the minimum age for racing in the Sport Production 125cc class in Italy) Rossi joined the Cagiva team. He had a rough start, crashing on the first turn of his first race, and then again on the sixth turn, but Rossi improved steadily throughout the season and earned a podium finish in the series finale.

Rossi’s performance earned him a spot on the Cagiva Factory Sport Production team managed by Claudio Lusuardi. Rossi found his stride aboard the factory 125cc Cagiva Mito and cruised to the title.

For the 1994 season, Graziano (wisely) wanted Valentino to gain experience on GP bikes, which he reasoned would serve him better in what they hoped would be his future career. The Sport Production is essentially a road-bike, an entirely different animal from the dedicated racing bikes used in GP.

1997 Aprilia RS125R

Recognizing the exceptional talent of the 15 year-old Peppino Sandroni recruited him to his Aprilia powered team. The Sandroni 125 was effectively a hand-made bike. The Rotax-Aprilia 125cc engine was paired to a frame designed by Guido Mancini, a mechanic from the town of Pesaro. Sandroni used input from Rossi to improve the Aprilia RS125R, and Rossi in turn gained valuable experience aboard a real GP race bike, and against high calibre GP riders.

The collaboration continued into 1995 where Rossi went on to win the Italian GP 125cc championship. At 16, he was the youngest rider to do so.

His prowess in the Italian GP earned Rossi a place in the 1996 125cc World Championship on Team Scuderia AGV. Aboard an “official” 1995 Aprilia RS125R he had a respectable rookie season winning his first World Championship Grand Prix at Brno in the Czech Republic. He finished the season in ninth place overall. Valentino showed a great deal of talent, but exposed his inexperience as well. Recklessly competitive he crashed dozens of times, failed to finish five of the races, and squandered numerous positions in his insatiable desire to be the fastest. He became known as something of an “enfant terrible” on the track.

1998 Aprilia RS250

1997 turned out to be his breakthrough year. Still on the Aprilia RS125R but this time riding for the Nastro Azzuro Team, Rossi gained command of the bike, but moreover got control of himself. He won 11 of the 15 races. In the four he did not win, he crashed out of one and finished on the podium in two. Valentino Rossi won the 1997 125cc World Championship with a margin of 83 points and secured a place in 250cc class for 1998.

1998 was the season in which Rossi considers he advanced the most, and truly developed his style. He was chosen for the Nastro Azzuro Aprilia team managed by master mechanic Rossano Brazzi. With Brazzi expertly tuning the RS250, Rossi had a solid freshman year in the class finishing second overall behind teammate Loris Capirossi. He won the last four races of the season foretelling the form he would deliver in 1999. This was the pinnacle of the Nastro Azzuro team which boasted riders Valentino Rossi, Loris Capirossi and Tetsuya Harada.

If there was any doubt about the talent, drive and consistency of Valentino Rossi it was surely put to rest in his final season in the quarter-litre class. He won nine races, finished on the podium an additional three times, and collected five pole positions. Prior to the 1999 season Rossi was under some pressure to go directly to the 500cc class (then top class of GP racing). To his credit, he decided to remain at the 250cc level, insisting that he win the Championship before moving up. It was the same decision he made in 1997 where he wanted to be World Champion of the 125cc class before taking on the 250.

Rossi at the 1999 Brazil MotoGP – Aprilia RS250

Valentino Rossi went on to become a household name, and one of the greatest motorcycle racers of all time. These early years showed his talent at its most pure, but most raw. It showed him at his most competitive, but also at his most vulnerable. His early failures were many and often, but it is a lesson to aspiring racers that he persevered and triumphed.

Rossi’s competitive drive and eccentric mannerisms have become something of a cliche, but behind the persona is a calculating professional, one who learned that talent may be given but skill can only be learned. There is a right machine for each level of racer, and Rossi understood the need to master the small bikes before moving on to the heavyweights. He proved his mettle in these, the Aprilia years.

Results By Season

1994 – 1st Italian 125 Sports Production (Sandroni)

1995 – 1st Italian 125 Sports Production (Sandroni)

1995 – 3rd European 125 Series (Sandroni)

1996 – 9th 125 MotoGP (Aprilia)

1997 – 1st 125 MotoGP (Aprilia)

1998 – 2nd 250 MotoGP (Aprilia)

1999 – 1st 250 MotoGP (Aprilia)

Honda CBR250R – Ready for the Track (Courtesy Motorcyclist)

To add fuel to the fire of everyone’s favorite rivalry here’s an interesting video put together by Motorcyclist magazine asking a simple question: Can the new Honda CBR-250R keep up with the de facto quarter litre track bike, the Kawasaki Ninja 250R? The answer: Sort of.

The Honda has it’s work cut out. In stock configuration it has a more upright seating position, and it’s thumper engine puts out 22 HP to the Ninja’s 30 HP twin.

Perhaps the best part of the video is watching the transformation from a stock CBR-250R to a sick track bike. The CBR was prepped by removing unnecessary parts, adding track fairings and a Leo Vince exhaust, and tweeking the EFI tuning. The modded bike put out a total of 26 horses, still 4 short of the Ninja which came in at 32 HP when track-ready. However, the Honda is a lighter bike making for a comparable power-to-weight ratio. So, can the CBR250R keep up?

The CBR’s excellent handling, breaking and reduced weight made it more competetive in the turns, while it’s reduced power made it a sitting duck on the straights. Nevertheless, with the right modifications and in the right hands it can certainly hold it’s own. Of course, none of them would stand a chance against the old Honda CBR-250RR!

Watch the video below for a full report.

Source: Motorcyclist

A global snapshot of motorcycling reveals small bikes and diverse riders.

The first car I owned was a Mazda Protege. It was a good car, sporty, reliable, economic, practical…it never let me down. In North America it’s considered a compact car and, as the model name would suggest, one which you would be expected to trade as soon as you move up in life. When you have a better job, a wife, kids, you really need something more, a family car…you know, an SUV or a Mini-Van.

In much of the rest of the world the Mazda Protege was sold under a different name, the Familia. The same car that was marketed in the U.S. as a freshman ride in the rest of the world was considered a family car.

We don’t condone the use of flip-flops, but the scooter is an ideal vehicle for urban mobility.

Not surprisingly what is considered a “small displacement” motorcycle in the U.S. – a marginal product directed primarily for beginner riders (and cautious ones at that) – is in the rest of world not only the two-wheeler of choice, but the most prevalent form of any powered transportation.

If you’ve traveled outside of North America (and Europe) you will have noticed that a motorcycle above 250 cc is a rare sight. Nearly two thirds of the world’s 200 million motorcycles and scooters are in the developing countries of Asia, and nearly all of them displace less than 250 cc. In 2002 in India and China there were a combined 15 million cars on the roads, but 71 million motorcycles. That’s nearly 5 motorcycles for every car.

The now legendary Honda Cub (a 50 cc scooter) is the best selling powered vehicle of all time, with over 60 million (and counting) produced world-wide. To put this in perspective, the Volkswagen Beetle (the world’s most manufactured car) had a production run of 21.5 million worldwide. At the risk of mixing animal families: there are 3 Cubs on the road for every Beetle. Oh, and a stock Cub can do 200 miles per U.S. gallon. You can have a baseball team each riding their own Honda Cub at the same time and still get better mileage than a single GMC Yukon.

Three helmets one bike: Waiting for mom to get some groceries.

In North America the motorcycle is still seen as a toy for affluent consumers with disposable incomes. And why not? The US has some of the most beautiful motorcycle routes anywhere. Roads are wide, distances long and fuel is cheap, perfect for the Sunday warrior. But riders are interested in motorcycles not only for recreation but as a legitimate alternative to the car, and not only on
scenic byways but in towns and cities.

In the countries where motorcycles and scooters dominate they are being used not solely for recreation (although we can all agree that they are a blast to ride) but as affordable and practical tools. We need to start seeing small motorcycles as a real solution to traffic congestion and urban mobility.

Manufacturers also need to stop marketing small displacement motorcycles merely as learner bikes. They are the most versatile, efficient, and most prevalent personal motorized transportation on the planet. They are a democratic instrument bringing mobility to people of all means and ages. And the Moto3 class of Grand Prix Racing is showing that they can be some of the most advanced and thrilling machines.

What’s more, they can be had for less than a down payment on the average car.

It’s time we realize that it’s a small (displacement) world out there.

Source (Statistics): Chicago Now

Yamaha YZF-R250 Concept

Yamaha YZF-R250

The quarter litre segment is heating up with the announcement from Yamaha that it will be offering a 250cc sport bike in 2014. It is the last of the big four Japanese motorcycle companies to throw its hat in what is quickly becoming the fiercest segment in North America.

Details of the YZF-R250 are sketchy, but the concept picture above is making the rounds on the internet. If it’s accurate the new model will share styling DNA with its big brother the Yamaha YZF-R6. If so, this is something of a departure from the styling developed for its other small displacement offering the Yamaha R15 (shown below). Unlike the R15, the YZF-R250 is being developed for the world market.

We should be getting more details after the EICMA motorcycle show in Milan.

Yamaha is late to the race. In North America the Kawasaki 250R has been topping single model sales for years, and its biggest rival the Honda CBR250R has been hot on its heels. Earlier this year Suzuki announced that it will be joining the race with the GW250.

With the big 4 getting serious about the 250cc segment, could we be witnessing something of a renaissance of small displacement motorcycles in North America? Although they have to date been considered (and marketed) as under-powered beginner bikes, that perception is shifting.

Spurred in part by economic woes, North Americans are embracing the small, efficient and fun, over the large, wasteful and cumbersome. There are more ‘Mini’s on the street, the Fiat 500c has been a success, and commuters are realizing that small motorcycles and scooters are a great solution to problems of urban mobility. Meanwhile the Moto3 class of Grand Prix Racing is showcasing 250cc super-bikes, and launching the careers of the next great racers.

Welcome to the party Yamaha.

Yours Truly,

TwoFiftyMAG

The Daelim VJF 250 in white

While screaming litre-4′s are still in high demand, the once neglected small capacity market is undergoing a much-needed revival. Here in Australia where restricted licenses make these bikes the norm for beginner riders, an astute observer would have noticed the flurry of activity in our dealerships and the second hand market. A little under two years ago we had the famous Kawasaki-Honda price war (which followed Honda’s introduction of the fuel injected single CBR250R), the evolution of the Hyosung saga (beginning initially with quality control problems, these bikes are now a common sight in the streets of Melbourne), and the introduction of a huge number of cheaper Chinese bikes of varying reputation. Amongst all this chaos I entered the world with only a year’s experience on the road, buying my first brand new motorcycle. A shiny black Daelim VJF250.

Like me, Daelim was new to the Australian market. The VJF had only been available for a a couple of years (first reference I could find was in April 2010), and it seemed the bike had gone more or less unnoticed by the online community. There were a few reviews on a website here or there, but it seemed for the most part the commercial outlets had simply glossed up the specifications with flowery prose rather than actually ride the bike. Those that did discuss it online took the traditional tone of ‘Korean crap’ without giving further details. Though in recent months this has begun to change, those of an older, finer vintage than I might remember a similar attitude to the Japanese bikes of the 1970′s. Thus it was with little more than a few pictures and numbers that I set out to trial this bike.

The Bike

A sleek modern style

I tested it, loved it, and bought it. I have owned the bike now for over four months, and in that time tallied an impressive 7,000 km (4,300 miles) on it, including a 1100km round camping trip. It is exactly what you’d expect from a 250 sports bike: reliable, nimble little bike fitting into the price range without sacrificing quality.

The appearance and finish of the bike is extremely modern and sporty. Instrumentation is a hybrid, with an analogue tachometer and digital display featuring the speedometer (with imperial or metric modes), odometer/trip meter, fuel and temperature gauges and as a bonus, a clock. Much like the iconic ‘manbag’ (helmet/beer storage) of the Suzuki Across, these minor extras might not seem much at first, but their usefulness cannot be overstated. Many a time I have been saved the embarrassment of turning up late to a lecture or meeting by that clock. The whole setup is backlit with a passive blue light, giving it a very cool ‘tron-like’ feeling at night, while being totally invisible during the day.

The one oddity with this bike is the omission of a kill switch on the handle bars, a standard feature on most bikes in Australia. In it’s place under your right thumb you’ll instead find a lighting switch – again an uncommon feature. It gives the option to ride without running lights of any kind- though some would argue the danger of reducing your visibility by doing so. Nonetheless, the option is there for those who would wish to use it, and the lack of an engine kill switch is no great loss when the ignition key is but a few centimetres away.

When sitting on the bike for the first time, the first impression one gets is that this is a bike for distance. The synthetic seat has plenty of give without sacrificing support, and the peg placement allows for a much more upright seating position than many in it’s class. I have spent many hours on the highway glad that I picked this bike over something sportier like a CBR or a Ninja. The comparatively low seat height (780mm) will also appeal to many smaller riders, without disadvantaging the taller riders (I’m about 5’10, and have never had any issues).

At a touch from the throttle, you’re underway. Despite it’s slightly heavy weight, the bike takes off with minimal engine input, and continues to respond extremely well throughout it’s rev range. Those who want a thrill won’t be left out either- hold the bike at the higher range (between about 7-9000 RPM) and the engine will unleash it’s reserves of power with a throaty growl. Brand new the bike will seem slightly less than it’s specs, but given time and care in the first 500-1000km, it will really open up to it’s full potential. Though not as powerful as the CBR250R, the difference isn’t noticeable on the road though the track may be a different story. Loaded with cargo or a pillion, the bike soldiers on admirably. My trip to Wagga Wagga earlier in the year saw me packing all sorts of camping gear, food and clothing practically anywhere it would strap down, without affecting my ability to hold pace on the highway. Likewise my girlfriend has been spending many hours on the back seat with little complaint.

The braking power is where this bike really shines. The bike features duel 290mm discs up front and a single disc out back, and this can put a first time rider in a little bit of trouble if they are overenthusiastic on the front lever. With no ABS and both discs, a lock-up is certainly possible for an inexperienced rider. However with due attention and discipline, the extra stopping power is extremely welcome, even on this smaller bike.

The fuel economy on the commuter is excellent, with my own record (tracked on www.fuelly.com) averaging 3.6l/100km (65 miles to the gallon for our American readers), though this varies depending on how excited you get. This pegs it more or less on-par with the CBR250R, the fairest comparison one can make on the current market. The 15 litre tank gives the bike plenty of range, and when combined with the digital fuel gauge, it sets itself up nicely for any long distance trips you might want to make.

Overall the VJF is exactly what you’d want from a small capacity commuter. It’s size allows it to accommodate most riders without discomfort. The seating style prevents soreness both to your wrists and back end. It is hardly an angry stallion begging to slip it’s reins and tear off down the street, but that’s not what a 250 is about. It gets up and goes without fussing about, and is an absolute joy to flick through corners. Whether you’re negotiating traffic or hammering through twisties, it is a bike that will show you a good time without taking control away from you.

At home on the street

At a Glance