This article was originally published in the December 1998 issue of Motorcycle Cruiser.
There wasn't always an England, at least not for motorcycle enthusiasts. The British motorcycle industry entered a tailspin in the 1960s, leaving only a series of smoking holes by the 1980s. The best known and longest lasting of the original British motor-cycle companies was Triumph, which finally succumbed to its labor problems and failure to innovate. But the power of its name, styling and image remained.
When a new company formed to build motorcycles in Britain in the late 1980s, it acquired the rights to use the Triumph nameplate and those of its various models. Unlike the original Triumph, which had produced designs minted in the 1930s in ancient facilities, the new Triumph builds modern motorcycles in new factories.
When this new company ventured into the U.S. market, it revived that wonderful name of the first Triumph motorcycle built with an eye on American tastes: Thunderbird. (Ford used it later.) This bike, reviewed in our August '98 issue, distinguishes itself with nostalgic, cruiseresque style, and stands out among the sporting lines of most of the rest of the Triumph line. For 1996, the T-Bird was joined by the Adventurer, which amended the 'Bird's formula with a bit more chrome, a higher handlebar and a solo saddle. Like the other bikes in the line, both used the same liquid-cooled, double-overhead cam, 885cc inline-triple.
This year, Triumph added a third machine to the Thunderbird series: the Sport. Framed by the same 62.2-inch wheelbase chassis and basic configuration as the others, the Thunderbird Sport sets itself apart from the standard ’Bird by way of a number of changes. Dual discs, instead of the lone disc of the Thunderbird, stop the front wheel. The Sport’s saddle rises more than an inch higher than the ’Bird’s. The Sport gets, well…sporty suspension. The fork adjusts for rebound and compression damping and spring preload. The single rear damper gets adjustments for damping resistance both ways on top of the basic ’Bird’s spring-preload adjustment.
Inside, changes to the carburetion, cam timing and exhaust configuration boost power by a claimed 20 percent beyond the Adventurer and T-Bird. The Sport also boasts six speeds. All the internal and external gear ratios are the same. The additional transmission ratio slides in on top as an overdrive to give more relaxed engine speeds on the highway.
Visually, the Sport separates itself from the standard Thunderbird with its exhaust system. Instead of the T-Bird's traditional mufflers (one on each side), the Sport carries two upswept reverse-cone megaphones stacked on the curb side of the bike. Triumph made other styling changes, too. The Sport's engine is black and, instead of the chrome cover on the Thunderbird's airbox, it has perforated chrome bands which mimic the air cleaners of the old Bonneville. The Sport uses a different tank badge, less chrome and no seat rail.
In our August ’98 comparison, we commented that the Thunderbird doesn’t fall into “the approved mold” for a cruiser, and the Sport strays even further from the stereotype. You can see it in the handlebar (which bends into just the barest rise), and the footpeg position (which is about six inches behind the T-Bird’s already standard-bike position). This feet-back, canted-forward carriage may be a bit too sportbike-like for some cruiser enthusiasts. However, it’s not as radical as a real sportbike; so your legs aren’t as cramped and—because of wind pressure—there is no weight on your arms at highway speeds. In fact, the bike was quite comfortable at high speeds, and worked well in the city to boot. The 28.2-inch wide bar makes it easy to squeeze through tight spaces, and even though it carries a larger fraction of its weight on the front wheel than most bikes, steering is light and responsive.
We were less fond of the saddle, which feels right initially but goes bad within an hour. A low-magnitude vibration sometimes intruded at fast highway speeds (in excess of 70 mph), but faded away when we shifted to sixth. Except for hobby-horsing on some sections of concrete-slab interstate highway, the ride was also commendable, with travel enough to handle large bumps and suppleness to smooth out small jolts.
Even though the Thunderbird was among the best-handling in our Flagship comparison, the Sport is superior because of its more adjustable suspension. We could dial out the dive we noted on the T-Bird and better adjust the suspenders to match anticipated conditions. However, it’s also possible for someone who doesn’t understand the effect of such adjustments to actually degrade handling with adjustments. Some riders commented on a slight tendency to fall into corners. But all liked the Sport’s steady, solid feel while heeled over, the considerable ground clearance, and the precise, nimble steering.
Although it may not be what American cruiser owners want for rumbling up and down the circuit on a Saturday night, the Thunderbird Sport is tremendous fun in the mountains on a Sunday morning. Where typical cruisers feel awkward and start to drag floorboards, the Sport is at ease and ready to play. Cornering speeds that make you work on a typical American-style ride are relaxed fun on this machine. Chalk it up to nostalgia, since British bikes were always more winding-road friendly than the Harleys which used to be their rivals.
That double brake up front establishes the Sport as the performance leader of the T-Bird club. Two fingers provide enough power on the adjustable lever to bring the Avon tube-type radial to near-lock-up, despite its considerable traction. But the drawback is you can get into trouble in a panic situation if you haven’t trained yourself to control the power—or if you panic.
Rearranging the 885cc triple’s power characteristics makes first gear suddenly seem as tall as it is. A quick getaway from a stop requires more revs than the standard T-Bird; you must slip the clutch more, too. We actually thought first gear was taller than the Thunderbird’s until we checked the specs. In fact, all the ratios are the same. The Sport pulls smoothly from down around 1500 rpm, but doesn’t completely gather itself until 3000 rpm or so. By 4000 rpm, you are Rocket Man. Although it will actually pull away from many bigger (and heavier) cruisers in sixth gear, the Sport feels a bit sluggish. If you click the smooth-shifting gearbox down a couple of cogs, it can fly past dawdling traffic. And if you keep stirring the six-speed, you can’t count on your thumbs the number of cruisers that can hang with it.
In more pedestrian moments, the Sport starts easily with little encouragement from the handlebar choke lever.
It warms quickly and idles smoothly with a distinctive three-cylinder sound that gets sweeter as the revs rise. The hydraulic clutch is light and progressive, and neutral is easy to locate.
Our test unit’s engine did uphold one tradition of the old Triumphs that would have been best left banished to the past. It began to leak oil past the base gasket at approximately 900 miles, staining the pipes. This would presumably be fixed under warranty. The right turn signal’s dash light signed off about the same time.
Even though we complained about the T-Bird’s instrument panel lights being hopelessly dim, we had no such complaint about this machine (which appears to have the same instrument layout—including a tachometer). And we didn’t miss the chrome trim appended to the Thunderbird’s warning light panel, which has been omitted here. This bike also has round mirrors instead of the horizontal items on the Thunderbird. The stalks direct the mirrors up, more than out past your arms, leaving you with very little useful rear view.
Those two megaphone mufflers stacked up on the right garnered the largest number of positive comments the bike’s styling drew. Color and nostalgia also attracted smiles, though many felt the simulated Bonneville air-filter cans were hokey. The shapes of most of the bike’s components—especially the fuel tank and engine cases, reminiscent of classic Triumph counterparts—drew praise as well. But the oversized taillight looks completely out of place and was voted “most likely to be round-filed.”
Although its unique blend of performance and nostalgia takes the Thunderbird Sport well off the beaten boulevard, we can’t fault it for that; even though many conventional cruiser riders immediately wrote the bike off because of its performance orientation and sporting ergonomics. Even though performance and cruiser styling are rarely combined, there is no reason to not offer that option. And as more experienced, performance-minded motorcyclists are attracted to the comfortable ride of cruisers, we expect to see a larger selection of muscular cruisers to welcome them. In the meantime, those looking for classic style with a British flavor, or punchy performance without kiddy color schemes and jungle-gym ergonomics, or both, have a fresh alternative.
First, you'd ask how this bike qualifies as a cruiser, but after an inspired scramble down the lane all protestations about standards versus cruisers melt into grinning insouciance. None of that British stiff upper lip for this sporting version of Trumpet's Thunderbird, mate. Crank the throttle, and a spirited response is what ye'll get out of the tried and true inline-triple mill. The seat really coddles the glutes, the brakes are crisply alert without being snotty, and a host of retro touches abound—including perforated air cleaner covers and a snappy two-tone tank (ours was a fiery red). Ignore the crusty traditionalists crying "foul" at the Sport's more aggressive leanings—there's no reason why you should follow the crowd. —Andy Cherney ✰✰✰✰
Triumph has taken all the quibbles I had with the Thunderbird and dispensed of them. If I liked the performance of the Thunderbird's engine, I loved the Sport's. Where I found the Thunderbird's suspension a little flaccid at times, the Sport responded with more capable and adjustable dampers. Just a short trip on the Sport down any twisty road, and I begin to hear the call of the canyons. However, with the Sport I have an entirely new set of quibbles. Nuke the brake light. While the more rearward and higher pegs help the bike corner cleanly, the new riding position has my right knee either in contact with the engine's cam chain tunnel or sitting close enough to feel the heat—even at highway speeds. Also, the Sport doesn't have the visual appeal of the 'Bird, though I do like the pipes. So, what would make me happy? Take the suspension, power delivery, and instruments from the Sport and graft them onto the Thunderbird. Then Triumph would have a bike that would scoot with style, and still challenge more traditionally minded folks about what a cruiser can be. —Evans Brasfield ✰✰✰✰
Having ridden those classic Brit bikes of the 1960s, I don't spend much time longing to have them back. Although the Norton Commando was marginally acceptable for its day (and even it was Amal-retentive and suffered from Lucasitis), most of those British "big" twins were just pretty lines wrapped around paint-shaker vibration, ancient design, and a buckboard-quality ride. Their only virtue was they were lighter than American-made bikes. The Brits' inability to keep up when the Japanese arrived and proceeded to show how good motorcycles could be, simply proved that the people building them didn't ride enough.
These new Triumphs, however, are clearly meant to be ridden long and hard. Despite minor flaws—like stupid mirrors—they provide modern quality and function. And bikes like the Thunderbird Sport demonstrate a perception of motorcyclists’ needs that allows them to reach significant niches other manufacturers haven’t touched yet.
I am all for stronger engine performance in cruisers, assuming it is balanced by chassis and braking performance to match. So what if that doesn’t fit somebody else’s definition of a cruiser—as long as it works for the one with the key in his pocket. —Art Friedman ✰✰✰✰