filthy behabiour: Triumph scrambler 1200 xc review
Most motorcycle people I know have, or would like to have, more than one bike. A classic? A commuter? Maybe an adventure bike? How about a street weapon? If space is limited in your shed, might I suggest one bike that ticks all those boxes. Triumph have smashed this one out of the jungle with an impressive blend of heritage looks and 21st Century tech. Clearly, the Bonneville lineage is unmistakable; the whole package looks fantastic, especially with the accessories that have been added here (headlight shield, high front fender, engine guard, rear rack). Power comes from the same 1200 that you'll find in the Thruxton, re-mapped for the Scrambler's broader terrain applications.
A six-speed 'box and a torque-assisted clutch provide super smooth, light gear changes. It's got presence and is superb on the street but your "four-bikes-in-one" reward comes when you leave the bitumen and go in search of dirt and mud. The frame (specific to the Scrambler), the long-travel suspension (fully adjustable Showa USD up front and Ohlins at rear) and the tall riding position put you in command of a machine that wants to go anywhere you do. You can flick between riding modes and even customise your own, with switchable ABS and traction control through intuitive switchgear and a sexy dashboard that is a quantum leap from the older LCD type displays.
The 21" front wheel (with very cool, side-laced spokes) inspires confidence, as do the Brembo brakes and I really found the bike a joy to ride, on and off-road. There's good reason for the Scrambler's global success; Triumph have nailed their formula of a trusted brand backed up by a quality product for the purpose of living a more exciting life. For some reason, I equate getting filthy with a more exciting life. Sure, I could just roll around in the mud but I'm not sure my wife would understand. I'll keep up this pretence of being a grown-up and get my filthy kicks in more socially acceptable ways. Like setting off on a clean motorcycle and returning home on a dirty one.
- Al Best for Submachine Magazine
REVIEW: ITALJET DRAGSTER
As a teenager I yearned for only two things: Freedom and a sense of belonging. I wanted to escape and the only way out, that I could see, was a $550 1977 Vespa 150 Super. I stumped up and, sure enough, I escaped.
I left home at 16 in a cloud of blue smoke and never looked back. Scooter life meant adventure, community, culture and style. Scooter rallies, ska music, sharp suits and fish-tail parkas gave me a sense of belonging and my love of being on two wheels was firmly cemented. My flat at the time had a Ducati dealership a few doors down and we would sit on the porch in summer and watch those beautiful Italian machines come and go. Despite the huge disparity in horsepower, we felt connected somehow.
As a student of industrial design (and a scooterist) I understood that utilitarian objects can be beautiful, but I struggled with the notion that my heart would ever skip a beat for a scooter that wasn’t a Vespa, Lambretta or Triumph Tigress. It seems that day has come with the latest version of the Italjet Dragster. It really is a work of art. Every component on this little machine has been sculpted in exquisite detail and the overall package it truly compelling.
Art draws people in and crowds will gather to marvel at beautiful things. A casual glance at the Italjet Dragster 200 is simply not sufficient. You have to stop. You have to ogle and gawk. Get down on one knee and take a closer look because God is in the details. When I first saw the ‘Jet a small crowd had gathered and we were blown away. It may be destined for a glass case in a fancy gallery surrounded by art snobs sipping Pinot Gris but, for me at least, the highest praise I can offer is that I really wanted to ride it.
At 6’2” I am not really built for a scooter. I used to cut down the seat on my Vespas so I could sit lower and further back. My first outing on the ‘Jet felt a little cramped (I am used to a Harley) so I opted to sit on the pillion seat and that was great, giving me a slightly more motorcycle-esque riding position. Twist and GO! The little 4-stroke is smooth and just keeps winding out to 125kph (allegedly) so there is fun to be had. I found myself zipping away from the lights and very quickly having to check my speed to avoid a ticket. Fortunately the brakes are superb. It is odd being on the motorway on such a small machine and having absolutely no problem overtaking. I repeat, this thing will do over 120kph (allegedly).
I found handling and braking to be excellent. Most of the mass is low-down so it’s agile but feels planted. The shocks are adjustable so there’s room to tailor the ride to your liking. Switchgear and controls are logical and ergonomically sound and build quality is top shelf. My only real beef is the lack of a side stand but there are aftermarket ones available so that would be my first project. There is an Akrapovic exhaust coming for this bike so that would be worth looking into, as I am sure there is more horsepower to be drawn from this baby if one were to deem it necessary.
While it looks faster than it is, performance is perfectly fine for the duties required of a scooter. Commuting around town or through the ‘burbs can be done on any number of small machines but there aren’t many you’d want to park in the lounge room and very few that might end up in a glass case in a fancy gallery. For this is a scooter to be admired, from an innovative Italian company with over 60 years in the industry. Italjet’s mission is to create “works of art on two wheels.” It seems they continue to succeed.
- Al Best for Submachine Magazine
Photography by Geoff Hedley @car_crazy_nz
THE ZOMBIE TRACKER
Zombies have always had it tough. Poor hygiene and dubious table manners have left them in a social wilderness.
Government organisations around the world have sanctioned their wholesale slaughter and in some countries, it’s legal to carry a flamethrower. And we wonder why they are so pissed off all the time. It’s time to put down your ice-pick and take the nails out of your kid’s baseball bat. This is the story of the world’s first ever Search & Rescue Vehicle for the Protection and Rehabilitation of Zombies (SARVFTPAROZ for short).
This is ZOMBIE TRACKER.
Because zombies are people too.
When I sat down with Triumph NZ and presented a concept sketch to convert their Street Scrambler 900 into something that would not look out of place in a zombie apocalypse, they liked the idea, so I suggested we aim to reveal the project at the upcoming Distinguished Gentleman’s Ride (DGR). Time was not on my side. The DGR was just eight weeks away.
Having built approximately zero motorcycles in my life, I had to be pragmatic about what could be achieved and began refining my original design to iron out some potential fabrication headaches.
I also started planning the project so that various elements could be made by different people simultaneously to ensure we had some chance of meeting the deadline. Finding the key people to bring my drawings to life was the next challenge. After several dead-ends, the right conversation with the right person at the right time opened the door to progress. With less than six weeks until deadline, fabrication was underway.
Troy Parlato at Three Sixty Limited set to the complex task of fabricating the fuel tank and pipes as Billy, Nick, Russell and Jake at The Tuesday Club worked their magic on the rest. Mark James painted the front guard, Lance Roskilly wired everything up and Martin Horspool made the Zombot mascot.
It was cool to be working with so many talented, ideas people and problem solvers. Billy would say ”What if we could take out a building’s wi-fi or go totally off-grid, like a dark mode.”
”Yeah that sounds cool.” I’d reply.
Lo and behold at our next session he and Russell would have all that sorted. Zombie Tracker is now equipped with a digital scrambler and an RFID holster for your phone so you can basically disappear. Fucking sick.
I would hand Jake a cardboard model with a few measurements and he would return half an hour later with the real thing, in aluminium. At times he was welding faster than I could think of what to do next. Legend.
You can’t track zombies without a tracking device so I turned to Martin ’Robot-Man’ Horspool for inspiration. Surely he would have some old switches and dials we could use to mock one up? What he gave me was an actual tracking device. It looked to be about 50 years old and used radio telemetry to track animals, like in falconry or wildlife research. Could not have been more perfect.
Tracking zombies is not easy. They are not as eager to meet you as Hollywood might suggest, so I returned to Martin Horspool for help. He set to work, and in the last days of the build he delivered Zom-Bot®, a dedicated zombie spotter who perches on the handlebars and keeps lookout.
With a few days to spare, the bike came together pretty nicely. Mark James’ bumblebee front guard lets the public know we are here on official business and there’s a bottle full of extra fuel in case things get out of hand (Molotov Cocktail).
After a lengthy interview process, Maxine McCaughey was appointed to the role of Zombie Tracker pilot. While she is a bad-ass road warrior in her own right, she also has empathy and knows kung-fu. Just before she took the controls, we fitted the bike with brand-new off-road knobbly tyres. Normally this would be a recipe for disaster but Max was not bothered. Cool.
Massive thanks to Triumph NZ for pushing the boat out and to the amazing, talented and passionate people who stepped up and made it happen.
My sincere thanks to them all.
Zombie Tracker build team.
Troy Parlato (Three Sixty Ltd)
Steve Levien (Three Sixty Ltd)
Jacob Allen (The Tuesday Club)
Billy Worthington (The Tuesday Club)
Russell Haines (The Tuesday Club)
Mark James (Every Sunday Motorcycle Collective)
Lance Roskilly (Every Sunday Motorcycle Collective)
Martin Horspool (Buggy Robot)
Parts support: Chris Hyland (Motomail)
- Al Best for Submachine Magazine
- Photography by Geoff Hedley @car_crazy_nz
badass moto woman
Waiting on the start line of the 1/8th mile track in the Sultans of Sprint series, Amelie Mooseder closes her visor. She is straddling a purpose-built custom BMW motorcycle called Spitfire.
As the flag falls, Amelie drops the clutch and launches off the line. The tail kicks out almost immediately and both Spitfire and pilot are accelerating up the track, alarmingly sideways. She backs off the throttle instinctively, and just enough to snap the tail back into line, then back on the power hard and away down the track at full noise.
Amelie was born for this. Back in the pit area, she is still astride the Spitfire. She switches on the bike’s flamethrower exhaust and the press gallery surround her, cameras firing...
Built in Switzerland by VTR Customs, the Spitfire started life as a BMW R 1200 R. VTR chief Dani Weidmann’s aviation background and his skills on the English wheel made the sleek aluminium bodywork possible. It’s totally hand-formed and riveted and it transformed the bike into a rather formidable-looking beast, even with the flamethrower switched off.
Having worked at BMW Motorrad most of her adult life, Amelie and the Spitfire were destined to be together. Already racing factory-backed bikes for VTR Customs, the Spitfire was built with Amelie assigned to the role of ‘pilot’. They became a dynamic duo, lighting up the track and revving up the crowds across Europe.
Although she is a fanatical dragstrip racer, Amelie’s day job is in BMW Motorrad’s Brand Experience division in Munich, where she is kept busy with marketing projects and customer-focused events around the world.
I managed to catch up with her to see if I could find out a little more about what makes Amelie Mooseder tick.
Sitting on the tank of your father’s motorcycle as a small child as he rode around the yard obviously had an effect on you.
My parents are very motorcycle-savvy and my dad has always had motorbikes in his garage. I sat on the tank of Dad’s motorcycle for the first time when I was two years old. When I was 7 years old, I got my first motorcycle. My brother and I shared it. We were overjoyed and very proud. For us it was the coolest hobby you can have as a kid and we grew up with it. To this day I am grateful that I started that early.
What are you riding at the moment? Do you have a selection of bikes at home?
Working for BMW Motorrad, I’m in the lucky position to be able the ride our whole range, so for every occasion I have the perfect bike. For weekend trips I choose the R NineT and for any off-road adventure I’m in love with the BMW R 1250 GS.
You’ve done a lot of 1/8 mile sprint racing. What’s your secret to getting off the line quickly?
I have a kind of a ritual when I race. I put some red lipstick on and give the motorcycle a red kiss on the tank. For me this builds a special relationship between woman and machine, which you need to have. Additionally Dani or Cello are always with me on the starting line. Dani knocks on my helmet when the racetrack is ready. That means “Go girl!”
As soon as the track is ready, the flag girl waves the flag, then it’s just me and the bike. There are so many things to think about to accelerate that fast. It’s all about the perfect combination of clutch, brake, throttle and concentration. I’m addicted to it. And in under 6 seconds it’s history. Only the faster rider goes through to the next round. That’s the one-on-one game and we love it.
Off-road adventure riding is so much fun. What is your favourite off-road trip, and where would you like to ride if you could go anywhere and take a month off?
Definitely New Zealand. I got the chance to ride there on a BMW R 1200 GS in 2019 in preparation for the International GS Trophy 2020 in New Zealand. I absolutely fell in love with that beautiful country. As soon as the borders are open, I’ll definitely come back to ride New Zealand again.
The Spitfire actually spits fire, which looks like a health and safety nightmare. Have you ever toasted anyone?
I trained hard to ride that beast of a motorcycle and we found a connection to each other but I realised I needed to be careful of the wind. When I ignite the flames I need to be facing the wind, otherwise my hair wouldn’t be so long anymore. So my recommendation is; be respectful but not scared.
- Al Best with Amelie Mooseder for Submachine Magazine
ALL the pretty horses
Not all tips are sound and not all leads are fruitful but this one was the whole orchard. We peel back the skin on a sweet and juicy collection for which there are simply not enough metaphors.
The tip came in from a trusted source. Someone who knows their shit. Someone who knew me well enough to know that this might be of real interest.
In retrospect, he may have undersold it a little, and it was perhaps the secrecy surrounding this collection of motorcycles that piqued my interest. I was told in no uncertain terms that nobody is allowed to know where, who, what or how.
I swore complicity and after considerable back and forth between my informant and the collector in question, I was invited into the inner sanctum.
I left it until the very last minute to tell my photographer the address. I insisted that we take separate vehicles and told him to make sure he wasn’t followed. The last mile or so, I drove with a black sack over my head so that I wouldn’t know where I was when I arrived. I do not recommend this. Very dangerous. I arrived at a pair of imposing steel gates with a sentry box and a camera pointed at me, and a keypad. I pressed the buzzer and suddenly realised I had forgotten the password. Crap. My brain was swirling, on fire.
I felt the little camera staring at me like the HAL 9000. As it turns out, there was no password and as the gates swung open, my paranoia subsided and I was warmly welcomed onto the property. The owner was not in the slightest bit guarded about his collection and informed me later that the security systems in place were military grade, and I should relax.
I looked at the garage and thought jackpot. Not only were there a couple of nice motorcycles, but in the back corner sat a Jaguar XK120 awaiting restoration, fabulous. We could have probably done the whole shoot there in that shed but I knew that was not what we had come to see. We were led by the owner and his burly, friendly dog to the main event.
Below and separate from the main house stands a large, dedicated building, for which ‘shed’ or ‘garage’ are inadequate descriptions. ‘Gallery Funhouse Fortress’ is about the best I can come up with. Inside, an intimate bar with a Brough Superior on one wall. Not a painting or a model. An actual Brough Superior.
Again, we could have probably done the whole shoot there in that bar, but I knew that was not what we had come to see. We wandered through to the main hall.
Spread before us was a simply eye-watering view. Manx Nortons, Ducatis, Indians, MV Agustas, historic race-bikes, original, complete, pre-WWI bikes. Almost all of them are working, rideable motorcycles and every effort is made to use and maintain them. Rare and significant bikes are treasured and the families of former owners are regular visitors to the collection. Our host was passionate and generous, and clearly loved the way motorcycles bring people together.
When I suggested that we should shoot the gorgeous Art Deco styled Zundapp up in front of the little garage with the Jaguar, there was no question of it being a hassle. Numerous bikes were moved around and out of the way and a set of huge doors were opened up for access. The 84 year old Zundapp started easily and its four cylinder boxer engine completely defied time, sounding as refined as any machine today.
I stood in awe, grateful for the tip-off and drove away blindfolded to ensure the location remained secure.
- Al Best for Submachine Magazine
- Photography by Geoff Hedley @car_crazy_nz
THE BUZZ: AL GUTHRIE, PHOTOGRAPHER
“Bay Park in the 70s! All those big bangers! Jim Richards and all those guys!” Al Guthrie has an energy to him that steps up a gear when the conversation turns to motorsport.
His childhood was filled with such visits and, early on, the focus of such outings was always cars. Over time his affections broadened to bikes and his feelings were cemented when he accompanied a colleague who was competing on two wheels.
“Motor racing was always around me as a kid. I’d go to the library and get MotorSport Magazine, cut out all the photos and take it back. Nobody would notice.”
“I had motorbikes growing up. I was a typical kid. Got my car licence at 15 then went straight out and got my bike licence. That’s what you did, y’know?”
“One day my mate Nick Worthington got a Triton and we went out to Hampton (Downs) and, fuck me if we’re not standing ‘round in the pits with Ken McIntosh and Billy Apple and Graeme Crosby’s down in the next pits with all these top riders there, and we’re all just wandering around. Everybody’s just so approachable.”
Al just started taking photographs and kept going to race meetings. He was taken by the speed, the vulnerability and the skill set that the riders he was watching had.
“To cut a long story short, I just like the buzz.”
Track marshall Ian Cram confirms the extreme nature of bike racing.
“I stand on the corner and they fly past me so close I could touch them. At one meeting I asked the riders why they were coming so close. They said my hi-vis gear gave them a good sight-line for the corner!” Respect.
BOXING clever: Dani Weidmann, VTR Customs
At the east end of Lake Zurich lies a small town, Schmerikon, with a population of about 3,700. One of those residents is Dani Weidmann, head of VTR Customs which operates out of the local BMW Motorrad dealership.
Dani is no stranger to the marque. Prior to moving
to Schmerikon he was at the other end of the lake,
in Zurich, selling BMW cars. All the while though,
bubbling away in his soul was a passion for
engineering and motorcycles.
When the Motorrad dealership opened up Dani and his partner jumped at the chance and it proved to be the first of many smart moves. With a background in aircraft engineering and a passion for Supermoto and Sprint racing, the new venture provided the perfect platform for a much more rewarding experience than just ‘shifting product’.
The stars were aligned in more ways than one. BMW had just released the R nineT, which was designed with customisation in mind and proved to be a smash hit. The R nineT forms the backbone of VTR Customs and most of the bikes sold at the dealership are given the VTR treatment.
It’s a symbiotic relationship as the beautiful work done at VTR is a fabulous showcase for the BMW machines. Proof of this is the growth of Dani’s business and the increasing distances from which customers are coming as word spreads.
VTR Customs, like most successful bike builders, understand the power of the image and their flame-throwing Spitfire bike built for Amelie Mooseder (see Volume Two of this magazine) cast a bright spotlight on Dani and his team.
Success in this industry is rarely, if ever, down to luck. To make it work, Dani is constantly evaluating their processes and also where the most enjoyment is coming from. For example, VTR used to do custom builds on older bikes, but the headaches that often arose on those projects were sucking the joy out of the operation as a whole.
Today, VTR offers a clear and precise set of three levels of customisation for the R nineT BMW. Customers choose, based on their budget, so there are no nasty surprises for either party. The customer can see the package he is paying for and VTR knows the R nineT inside-out so it’s a system that works smoothly and is offered across the Scrambler, Pure and Classic variants of the bike.
It’s a simple menu but the tasty variety of bikes VTR cooks up is bewildering. Dani is passionate about paint and the impact that colour and graphics can have. He tells me they go to great lengths to mix the perfect colour for their bikes as it is the one element that can really elevate the build.
Each machine rolling out of the shop is unique and full of personality. The starting point is an extremely capable, reliable piece of modern engineering and VTR Customs transforms it into something special.
There are other projects in the shop, of course. Dani reveals they are working on another R18 build (having revealed Miss Fisher last year) and I mention that Submachine is hoping to do its own R18 custom. We talk about what’s involved and I listen intently for any tips or wisdom from a master.
All I can figure is that the VTR build will be more complicated so I decide to risk a bet.
“We should see who can finish first.”
Dani leaps at the challenge and before I know what time it is, there are two dozen beers riding on it.
As we say goodbye, I’m straight on the web to see what it would cost to ship beer to Switzerland.
- Al Best for Submachine Magazine
the kids are alright
As the instructor delivers his pre-class briefing, fourteen-year-old Cadie Reid stands patiently with the other kids. They’re all kitted out in race suits, armour and enthusiasm, and just yonder the track is baked brown and beckoning. I eye up their bikes, immediately jealous and ever-so-slightly regretful that I may have totally wasted my youth. I’ll have to make do with living vicariously unless I can convince someone to let me have a go.
Cadie is a relative veteran here, having started riding when she was just 10. Raised on the belief that life is not about handouts, she fundraised relentlessly to buy her own Solo Class motorcycle and it’s a beautiful thing. There’s something very alluring about the proportions of a Speedway bike. Form following function, lean and low. Purposeful and super cool. Cadie is also super cool. She’s focussed and quiet, preferring perhaps to let her motorcycle do the talking.
And talk it does. Her bike is basically no different to the ones used by senior riders, apart from having a 200cc engine rather than the maximum 500cc. It still flies and Cadie rips it around the short track. She’s no stranger to racing and is here at Rosebank Speedway to hone her skills and get some valuable track time, with the next race meeting just two days away.
Instructor Cody talks to each rider about track position and lean angles. They fly around, two at a time and work on speed and smoothness. It’s such hellishly good fun and I’m still hopeful someone will let me have a go.
Many of the kids present have played (and excelled at) other sports and, as you will see at sports meetings all around the country, the unsung heroes are the parents. A few dads are helping out in the middle of the track. It’s dusty, hot and there is not much shade. Yet here they are, helping push bikes for a bump-start, checking fuel lines, offering support.
Many of these families have it in the blood. Most of the kids have grandads, uncles or dads who rode or drove at Speedway back in the day. It’s not a massive community compared to other sports but as far as motorsport goes, it’s relatively safe, not hugely expensive and a tonne of fun. It must be a great option for youngsters who want to do something a little different. I think about all these kids in 20 years, meeting new people.
“I played cricket in the summer. How about you?”
“I rode Speedway bikes.”
Cool.
As we are leaving I am still hoping someone will call out my name and ask if I want to have a go. Then, as I clamber into the car, Geoff swings the camera up to his eye and captures a young lad working on that trademark speedway power-slide, finding the limit and crossing it, gently sliding to the ground. It doesn’t faze him. He will rise and ride again. Cody will help him analyse the error and learnings will be applied to future laps, and to life in general.
Inspired, I add ‘Ride a Speedway Bike’ to my bucket list.
- Al Best for Submachine Magazine
- Photography by Geoff Hedley @car_crazy_nz