Fella in the States buts a 1975 Norton Commando still in the crate
06
Dec
Back in 1975 I was a 13 teen year old with Motorcycle posters and pages from the MCN plastered all over my walls and even my ceiling, I was always into Motorcycles, and I remembered the day when I saw the article that Norton were bringing out a double disc 850 Commando that had an electric start, wow, that was cool as for me, I was a little bugger then and all the Brit bikes were super hard to kick over if they didn’t have a valve lift, well, not for a 80 pound teenager anyway.
So, when I saw that the New 850cc Norton had a “Lecky Start” I was super stoked, also Norton had an array of color schemes but I lobed the traditional JPS style of Livery the Black and gold or Black and Silver did it for me.
Below, Fella out here buys a 1975 850 Norton Commando still in the Original crate, like me, i would of put it together too but many purists cry about it, feck it, its a Motorcycle, they were made to ride not rot away in a box.
Arguably the greatest of the great British twins, Norton’s Commando reached its final form with the electric-start Mk3 850. It was almost modern for 1975, in some senses… One thing the late, Great British bike industry was good at was developing a design to the point at which even an amateur – in all senses of the word – must have wondered whether it would have made more sense to simply start again with a fresh design. Norton were quick into the post-WW2 market with their twin, the Dominator.
Why is this important? Because Triumph had shown the one true way just before hostilities broke out, and every rival bike builder in Blighty decided that they needed to follow suit. A good move, in fact. And so it was that Norton unleashed their Model 7 Dominator upon an impoverished post-war world in 1948 and prayed for sales. It looked neat, rated out at 497cc and delivered a decent 29bhp at a less-than-nifty but OK for the day engine speed of 6000rpm. It was good to ride, too; comfortable and smooth in a relative sense.
The Go was OK, and the Stop was too, although the handling was … shall we say, average, with the unlovely ‘plunger’ suspension at the back. No space here to discuss that particular peculiarity, fortunately, except to say that Norton’s enormous record of racing success included using this kind of frame. Mystery is as mystery does. Development surged ahead in the typically British way, in that the cycle parts changed a lot while the powertrain changed hardly at all except in the inevitable extraction of further power and capacity stakes. By 1967, when the Age Of The Superbike was rushing over the eastern horizon, Norton’s 750, the Atlas, was looking suddenly unsaleable.
This was demonstrated by the sad fact that the entire range of products from the parent company was so unsaleable that they went bust. Cue huge sighs of relief from Mr Honda. Not. Norton’s new owners understood that they needed Something New, and that they needed it Now. Arch-rivals BSA and Triumph had their new 750 triples poised to take on the world, and if Norton was to be something more than a fond memory they needed a new bike. Fast. So they developed one (or more, in fact, but only one seriously). This was adventurous. A dohc parallel twin of a notional 800cc capacity, with the cams driven by one of the longest chains ever seen on a motorcycle. It leaked and shook and rattled and was impossibly difficult to assemble. That was the good news. The bad news was that it made no more power than the Atlas’s 50bhp or so. Norton’s new guys looked at the mess, used the old Atlas and most of its powertrain, and hung it into a radical rubberised bicycle with flashy modern tank and seat and called it the Commando. And guess what? Despite being a cobble job, the bike was actually brilliant to ride.
While Honda were selling shiploads of sohc, 5-speed, electric start, disc-braked four potters, Norton won the MCN Machine Of The Year award for lots of years. Not bad for a pushrod, 4-speed, foot start, drum-braked twin. The Mk3 you can see here in glorious BS-color was the final development. In less than a decade, Norton had added an electric start and a single disc at each end. They had civilised it at least a little, but at heart it was that 1967 twin with that 1948 engine.
Stretched a little, but… This is that Piece of String question. Again. It always is. Norton Commando prices are insane. Certifiable. You can expect to pay at least £5000 for a total basket case, requiring both a complete rebuild and registering for the UK roads (assuming you’re riding it in the UK).
This is because you’re probably going to be restricted to a US model reimported from that great country. Original UK bikes tend to fetch more. Mad but true. Less mad is the equally remarkable fact that if you do blow around £4k on rebuilding your bike properly – and spares supply is excellent indeed – you should be able to sell it for well north of £10,000. This, gentle reader, is called an investment. But the Mk3 Commando is a lot more than that, far more than an investment. It’s a great riding machine, with all the bottom end grunt of a big twin with low compression and gentle valve timing. No rice pudding is safe near one of these. Think Harley levels of low-rev heave. That’s what you’re paying your ten large for. And if you look after the bike, you’ll not lose money when you move it on. Fairer than that, you cannot say.
Brakes ;
Very conventional stuff here. Both wheels on the Mk3 are braked by single 10.7-inch discs, feebly gripped by twin-piston Lockheed calipers of variable effectiveness. Upgrades are available, all the way up to the three floating discs and race calipers seen in the pics. Braking is a great thing to upgrade. Oh yes.
Comfort ;
Mk3 Commandos were mostly delivered in two forms, the Roadster, as in the pics, and the Interstate, which had a vast touring fuel tank and a rearwardly displaced seat to allow it to fit. The side panels were also different, but the bikes were mechanically identical.
Roadsters got wide bars, so the rider sat upright, with the small tank fitting easily between the knees.
It’s very comfortable. Lots of riders fit dropped bars. No idea why. Slightly more challenging is the Interstate, which typically came fitted with flat touring bars and the rider’s backside rests about six inches further back than on the Roadster. Many people consider this to be a great fast touring posture. Others beg to differ. Changing bars is cheap, footrests less so.
Equipment;
As basic as it is traditional. Speedo and tacho (from a couple of different suppliers – just to give concours terrorists the vapours) and a small collection of idiot lights mounted in a neat panel between the clocks. Lucas switchgear and electrical gubbins, but an American Prestolite starter motor.
