I don't even really know how to truly tell this story, and I've labored over this post for three days now. I'm worried that I won't be able to describe the journey of this machine, in a way that does it the justice that it deserves. I'm emotionally attached to this motorbike, in a way that's simply beyond words. I can only hope that the following couple of paragraphs and photos, can somehow hold a candle to how amazing it is. And perhaps, inspire some intrigue into Norton motorbikes, and the relationship that you can have with an old machine.
This 1966 Norton Atlas, is quite literally one of my dream bikes (I'm allowed to have several dream bikes, aren't I?). And after a lot of years of slow evolution, it's finally complete, as my fully realized vision of it. But it most certainly didn't start the way that you see it here. The story actually began quite a long time ago, with the aborted purchase attempt of another Atlas. I had gone about a year and a half without a bike, after very regrettably selling my Commando, and I had always wanted a featherbed Norton special, built up as an original / period correct cafe racer (please note that the term "cafe racer" has been completely bastardized in the modern era, so I very rarely use it - but at the time this journey began, it still accurately described the true sense of what a cafe racer is - I'll let you do your own research into it's origins). My dear friend, and long time motorbike mentor, Bib, called me one day and said that he'd like to sell me an Atlas special that he had owned for about 20 years. It was a very cool machine with a Dunstall seat and a hot rod motor. It was a bike that we talked about, countless times as I had drooled upon it, during every visit to his house, and it was held in very high regard by both of us. So I was shocked that he'd be willing to sell it to me, but it only took about 2 seconds for me to proclaim "I'll take it!" So I gathered up every penny I could muster, booked a flight to California and couldn't contain my excitement as I anxiously waited to take possession of it. It was planned that I'd meet Bib at his house on Saturday morning, and after landing in LA on Friday morning, I spent the day with my best friend, talking his ear off about the bike as I tend to get carried away when I discuss these things. Coffee and donuts were the standard ritual, and as we sat at the usual establishment, I called Bib just to triple confirm we were all set for the following day. His response was a surprise to me, as he painfully told me "I can't sell it. I cleaned the carbs and gave it a once over as I prepared it for you, but after taking it for a ride, I decided I just couldn't let it go." I'm sure there was an awkward pause on that phone call, as I searched for an appropriate response. After all, I had just scraped together every bit of money I could find and flew half way across the country. But I simply couldn't be mad. I completely respected every word that he said, and would have felt the same way. So where do we go from here I wondered. Bib says "come up anyway, I've got an idea for you."
Saturday morning comes and I head to Bib's, with a feeling of uncertainty, but also with a sense of excitement. There was no bike to be bought that day, but Bib broke the news to me that he'd sell me a project bike, and we'd build it together; my way. This was a big moment, as I had previously discussed with him, my desire to build a featherbed Norton, in the way that a guy of the era, would have done. A genuine machine that was built with real parts, just like it would have been done when these bikes were contemporary. Bib had always said that he'd never do such a thing. His preference was to build bikes as he saw fit and then sell them. He had no desire to deal with someone else's opinion and all the headache that came with it. But he was going to make an exception in this case. Likely because we had known each other for years, and he had become sort of a father figure to me. And probably because he had felt bad for going back on the deal we had already struck. So the journey began and Bib spoke of a project Atlas that he'd had tucked away, and would dig out as the basis of the build. I'm a pessimist by nature, and I left his place that day with a skeptical feeling because I know what it takes to rebuild one of these old bikes. There was a long road ahead that would take time, money, patience and both of our hard work to complete. I enjoy the process and have always though, so I knew that with the small collection of parts that I had already collected and Bib's experience, we could surely build a machine that we'd be proud of.
A few months later, I returned to Bib's to see "the" Atlas that he had allocated to me. Pictured below, is how it sat. Original paint frame, a solid core of a motor and magneto, and that's pretty much it. No front end, no tank, no wheels, no carbs, no seat, no fenders…. You surely get the impression. It was a long way from being the roadworthy dream bike that I had in my mind.
Let's get to work I thought to myself. I handed him an envelope full of my hard earned money, which of course he refused to count. We had done this before, we were friends, we were family and I'd never short him a dollar and he'd never have a second thought that I would. To sweeten the deal, I offered a small token of my appreciation, and brought two cases of his favorite beer.
I was on cloud 9 as we shook hands and parted ways. He'd be doing certain work, I'd be doing certain work and collecting parts and then we'd get together at specific stages and apply our progress to the machine. My mind was racing with excitement and anticipation as I drove away, with his beautiful craftsman bungalow and small shed of Norton treasures in the rearview mirror. It's about a mile and a half to the freeway, and once I cleared the on ramp onto the freeway, my phone rang. It was my mother, calling to tell me that my grandfather had just passed away. He suffered from Alzheimer's for many years, and losing him, was a devastation like I had never felt before. We were close, and I've never had so much respect and admiration for another person in my entire life. Bib reminded me of my grandfather as well, and both of them were important to me. Although the loss of my grandfather and the purchase of this bike, have nothing in common, the close proximity of both events, added a layer of connection between myself and this machine. It sort of felt like it added a layer of importance and permanence to what I was about to build. I'll leave it at that.
Over the course of the next 14 months, Bib and I built this bike. We bickered along the way as to what was right and what was wrong. I'm not ashamed to admit that he won nearly all of those arguments. As I mentioned before, he was set in his ways and had decades of experience that I respected, and I knew that no matter what we built, I'd likely still have to evolve it once it was "finished", in order to get what I really wanted. Bib liked to set most his bikes up with Mikuni carburetors, which I hate. He wanted the primary to be chrome, which I hate. He wanted to run an 18" rear wheel, which I hate. He wanted to use short reverse cone megaphones, which I dislike. Lots of little things like that, coupled with a few changes of course based on parts that we either could, or could not find at the time, determined the outcome of the bike at the time. But after just over a year, the time had come, for me to take full time ownership of it's care. The day I went to get it, my buddy's truck broke down on the way. I called Bib, and he said not to worry, he'd just deliver it to me. And he did. As we backed it down the ramp of his trusty pick up truck, I was nervous. It was that moment of truth when you kick start it and ride off, in front of your mentor and a small group of friends. But all went well, and that first ride was pure satisfaction. We had done it. We had conspired to build my dream bike and at the same time, rescued another discarded machine. I'll never forget one last little touch when Bib handed me the tank badges, which he didn't mount, and had saved that last task for me to enjoy on my own. It was a truly thoughtful gesture that sort of marked the passing of this machine from him to me. Far more important and significant than the official signing over of the title. After we spent hours talking about every detail and going thru the process, he didn't want to leave. I'm sure that his lovely wife Janet, had been ready to go home for at least an hour, but you could see that it was difficult for him to be done with it. After some time though, he called it a day, we shook hands and I think I might have even given him a hug. It was that sort of moment.
The photos below, show the bike as it sits today. Finally done in my eyes, after about ten years, from the first day that we originally agreed to do this. It's evolved to be what I wanted and had always dreamt of. It's an honest machine that isn't over restored and certainly isn't a trailer queen. We rebuilt and restored everything that needed to be, but din't do anything that wasn't needed. It's part survivor, part rebuilt and part restored. It's a matching numbers machine that runs as good as it looks and currently has nearly 16,000 miles on the clock. I ride, enjoy and maintain it as it was intended to be used by it's maker. It has a few tasteful upgrades to make it safe a reliable, but nothing that detracts from it's originality. I blew up the motor once, when a valve broke in half and brought everything to an abrupt stop. I crashed it once at about 35 mph, but walked away and rebuilt the bike both times. No story would be good without a few bumps in the road, and these are the types of things that either destroy or strengthen you love for something.
Here's an abbreviated list of information about the bike, and photos to go along with the description:
Rebuilt motor & gearbox - 19 tooth countershaft sprocket
Original magneto with NOS Lucas pick ups, points and upgraded wires & caps
NOS 34mm Amal MKII carburetor (the British version, not the Spanish version)
Very rare Sonny Angel 2 into 1 carburetor manifold
NOS ball race Smiths tachometer drive
Petrol tank, oil tank, battery box & primary cover, painted black as original
Wassell swept back pipes
Dunstall Goldstar mufflers
Wassell alloy fenders
High shouldered 19" alloy rims - The rims are Excel, as Borranis were unavailable at the time. I'll likely convert to Borranis, at some point when money permits
Belt drive primary & dry clutch with diaphragm
Rare two piece flip up gauge brackets with rubber isolation mounts
Original Smiths grey face gauges
Dunstall clip ons
John Tickle headlight ears
Completely rebuilt front end with all genuine parts
Doherty competition alloy levers
Tommaselli 1/4 turn throttle
Halcyon bar end mirrors
Alloy dummy bar
Venhill & Smiths cables throughout
Solid state regulator / rectifier
Wired to be run with or without a battery
Clubman rear sets
Original 1960's vented front hub
John Tickle 2LS front brake
Handmade chainguard
Nice original Atlas seat
That's most of it, but I've kept it simple in an effort to not make this post any longer than it needs to be. I could go way down the rabbit hole when talking about this bike. Everything's been properly rebuilt with new bearings, bushings, seals, brakes, genuine parts, Amal, Lucas, Smiths, Tickle, Dunstall etc etc etc. No expense spared, and almost of a decade of meticulous care & maintenance.
So there it is. It took a bit for me to get it out and onto the blog, but I'm fairly happy with this post. An honest machine that makes no excuses and is a true pleasure to own and ride. It's got no monetary value to me, as I'd never sell it. I've got more money into it than it would like ever be worth, but that doesn't matter. I could never buy such a story, or such a machine. It had to be built, experienced and become the magnificent motorbike that you see here. Preserved by a a couple of guys that care enough about this stuff to try and make a difference, all while enjoying the journey. Unfortunately, Bib passed away a few years ago, and he never got to see it quite like this. It was really close, but not done yet. I know he'd be happy with it, and proud of what we did. I know that I sure am. God Speed Bill "Bib" Bibbiani
All photos courtesy of another dear friend, Rob Collins @robcollinsphoto (with the exception of the photo of the bike as a basket case)
