GrahamNZ
High Miler
Forum member 2000 1200c requested more info about a road bike I built in 1972-3. This was his post:
"Graham, I'm pretty new around here, and I may be asking a well answered question, but you can't tease like that....... I WANT MORE DETAILS OF THAT HOME BUILD!!!!!
Sorry for shouting, but fiddling with screens, changing oils and twiddling with injectors pales into insignificance when presented with a bit of real welding and machining..... spill the beans, please. Is it Honda based?"
OK, 2000 1200c here is what I wrote for a book just published here titled New Zealand's Motorcycle Heritage (book 3)
Allardice Hybrid (1972/3)
Hybrid – Thing made up of parts of different origin. The Allardice Hybrid was a home-built road bike I constructed in 1972/3 and now in the Southward Motor Museum. The name derived from the bike being constructed using parts from many sources: Home-built frame, cycle-parts, including the moulded urethane-foam seat, and the exhaust system; Honda CB750 engine; Dunstall-Norton front forks and front brakes, Yamaha front disc and caliper as the rear brake, plus minor parts from other manufacturers.
To judge the significance of Hybrid as a 'spoke in the wheel of New Zealand motorcycle history', it needs to be seen in the context of the commercially-available bikes of the time. 1969 saw the arrival of the Honda CB750 with its across-the-frame four-cylinder engine, setting the pattern for the 'universal Japanese motorcycle', or UJM as they came to be known. That engine brought an unprecedented level of power, torque, smoothness, oiltightness and reliability, and also marked the death knell of the British motorcycle industry, which was simply outclassed. No surprise then that this 1969 engine, the most powerful of the CB750 series engines and the best currently available, was chosen for Hybrid.
Why was Hybrid constructed? Because although the new engines were magnificent, the bikes which housed them were not. They had spindly, flex-prone frames and suspension performance of mediocre standard. I wanted to build a bike which was 'state of the art' in a more complete sense. A bike of 'technical perfection' was the aim.
In 1972 I was 31 years old, already with some motorcycle-building experience, and was looking for a new project for an excess of energy after having built my own house a few years earlier. Welding, fibreglass moulding and a general mechanical knowledge were within my skills, and although I had no lathe, I had the ability to make drawings of the machined parts required for them to be produced by others.
An unusual aspect for a home-built project was that Hybrid was designed and drawn in full detail before actual construction was started. Rather like a professional industrial design project. The design process took almost as long as construction, the whole task taking two years. The overall cost was about the same as the price of a contemporary top-of-the-range UJM, so wanting a cheaper bike was not a motive.
Styling was driven by elements such as the proud exposure of the beautiful engine, wheels and suspension, the twin-headlight nose unit with its shape providing protection for the rider, and the strong horizontal line of the upper components, which was the fashion of the time. The current, strange, bum-in-the-air styling had yet to arrive. Grey/green paint was chosen to contrast with satin-black on the power unit to give a look of class rather than ostentation.
The front-spine plus triangulated tubular frame was a radical departure from the commonly-preferred double-cradle tubular frame, and was chosen because the engine had no means of connecting the cylinder head to the frame; a feature needed to make a cradle frame work well. The front-spine doubled as an effectively-cooled oil tank for the dry-sump engine. Built-in crash-protection projections were included at three points each side; a forerunner of modern 'oggy knobs'. The nickle-bronze-welded frame used Reynolds 531 tubing. With its main side rails passing outside the carburettors like modern side-beam frames, the frame was constructed in an elaborate composite-board and steel jig. All side rails converged at the swinging-arm pivot, emphasising its structural importance.
Although the engine was naturally very smooth-running, this was enhanced further by it being rubber mounted. The result was a bike of uncanny smoothness for the time; a dramatic difference from the contemporary British twins and triples, and one which took some getting used to because it was so easy to reach high speeds inadvertently. Cruising at 160kph, something which would have had those twins in particular disintegrating, was well within the bike's capability. Top speed with the 75bhp or so available was just over 200kph, with the rider sitting comfortably upright behind the unusual but effective, tall, narrow windscreen. Dry weight was 220kg.
Based on the heavy-arrowhead principle of stability, the nose unit housed the twin batteries and other electrical equipment, the whole unit weighing about 12kg. This was not in line with the mass-centralisation principle favoured now, but it seemed to work, the bike being outstandingly stable at any speed.
Other features unusual for the time were: Twin dipping headlights, which some traffic police considered illegal; disc brakes on both wheels before that became common; a windscreen with its top close to the rider's nose-tip, for exceptional protection, clear vision in all conditions, and freedom from helmet-buffeting; hand-guards, long before they appeared on trail-bikes; air horns; electrical cabling run within the frame tubes or cast into the fibreglass parts; a large storage chamber under the hinged-seat, complete with automatic courtesy-light, anti-theft-switch and power socket; a rear carrier on extended frame top rails; enclosed, duplex drive-chain, adjusted by large eccentric bushings at the swinging-arm pivot; a clock; a vacuum gauge, which could be allocated to each cylinder in turn for throttle-balancing; a centrestand mounted on the exhaust pipes at the balance point to allow either wheel to be removed, and those built-in crash-protection projections.
The engine had an unusual 1243 firing order. By 'siamesing' the two adjacent cylinders on each side of the bike, the exhaust note from the straight-through absorption-type silencers was like a rather loud, fast-revving vee-twin. Quite naughty by modern standards, but intoxicating because of it.
Cast aluminium wheels were just coming to motorcycles in the early 1970s, and their long-term reliability had yet to be proven, so stainless steel -spoked Borrani alloy rims were used shod with Dunlop TT tyres, the best at the time.
Getting Hybrid registered was a breeze compared with today's onerous regulations for home-built vehicles. Then, it was a matter of getting a Warrant of Fitness and proving the engine and frame were not stolen. I had bought the engine legitimately from the owner of a wrecked bike, and all other parts were new.
In 1975 Hybrid was featured as a three-part article in the British magazine 'Motorcyclist Illustrated'. Asked to evaluate the bike was Roger Jordan, a motorcycle designer who had worked for most of the major British design offices. He declared Hybrid as, "a special that was really special. The degree of professionalism is remarkable for an amateur builder." And, "If only manufacturers would pay as much attention to details as Graham Allardice has."
By modern standards, Hybrid was physically quite small, with a 1400mm wheelbase. It would also be found wanting in areas of tyre quality, ground-clearance, suspension performance, braking and engine power. 75bhp or a little more from its non-airbox, carburetted engine isn't much now, but at the time it was cutting-edge. My engine had an aftermarket Waggot camshaft, the head was ported and polished, and reciprocating parts were carefully balanced, so its performance would have been a little better than stock. Also the exhaust was very non-restrictive which must have helped as well.
I rode Hybrid from 1974 to 1981, covering just over 50,000km, without significant problems or modifications, but the novelty had worn off and it was time to move on. Being short of garage space to keep it, what to do with Hybrid was a dilemma as well. It was too 'personal' to sell or impose on an owner unable to maintain it, but too 'valuable' to scrap. An approach to Len Southward was met with his acceptance of the bike for permanent display in the world-class Southward Motor Museum near Waikanae, north of Wellington. The bike was ridden there and then prepared for long-term storage, in case it might be ridden again in the future. Sadly, the years in the museum have not been kind to Hybrid. The many polyester resin/fibreglass moulded components and fabricated and other synthetic-rubber parts have deteriorated badly from natural ageing, making the bike a poor relic of the one ridden there over a quarter of a century ago. The last time I saw it, several years ago, I decided not to visit it again because it upset me.
Looking back now, I have no regrets over building Hybrid. It seemed like a good idea at the time and was great fun and very rewarding. Given the prevailing circumstances of 1972, I would do it again. Not today though. Modern bikes are far superior in all performance areas compared with Hybrid, making a similar project pointless for me. However, still I find ways to 'improve' the many bikes I've owned since. Current bikes? A 2005 Moto Guzzi Breva V 1100, and a 2007 Buell XB12Ss Lightning Long. Both were chosen for their sensuality and character rather than the sanitised technical perfection sought, and largely achieved, with Hybrid.
Graham Allardice (2007)
Photo taken in 1981 when the bike arrived at the museum. I was just 40 then. Oh, to be so young again!
The black circles either side of the nose unit cover air-horn trumpets.
The crash points referred to are at the top and bottom of the front spine, and at the top of the rear suspension units.
"Graham, I'm pretty new around here, and I may be asking a well answered question, but you can't tease like that....... I WANT MORE DETAILS OF THAT HOME BUILD!!!!!
Sorry for shouting, but fiddling with screens, changing oils and twiddling with injectors pales into insignificance when presented with a bit of real welding and machining..... spill the beans, please. Is it Honda based?"
OK, 2000 1200c here is what I wrote for a book just published here titled New Zealand's Motorcycle Heritage (book 3)
Allardice Hybrid (1972/3)
Hybrid – Thing made up of parts of different origin. The Allardice Hybrid was a home-built road bike I constructed in 1972/3 and now in the Southward Motor Museum. The name derived from the bike being constructed using parts from many sources: Home-built frame, cycle-parts, including the moulded urethane-foam seat, and the exhaust system; Honda CB750 engine; Dunstall-Norton front forks and front brakes, Yamaha front disc and caliper as the rear brake, plus minor parts from other manufacturers.
To judge the significance of Hybrid as a 'spoke in the wheel of New Zealand motorcycle history', it needs to be seen in the context of the commercially-available bikes of the time. 1969 saw the arrival of the Honda CB750 with its across-the-frame four-cylinder engine, setting the pattern for the 'universal Japanese motorcycle', or UJM as they came to be known. That engine brought an unprecedented level of power, torque, smoothness, oiltightness and reliability, and also marked the death knell of the British motorcycle industry, which was simply outclassed. No surprise then that this 1969 engine, the most powerful of the CB750 series engines and the best currently available, was chosen for Hybrid.
Why was Hybrid constructed? Because although the new engines were magnificent, the bikes which housed them were not. They had spindly, flex-prone frames and suspension performance of mediocre standard. I wanted to build a bike which was 'state of the art' in a more complete sense. A bike of 'technical perfection' was the aim.
In 1972 I was 31 years old, already with some motorcycle-building experience, and was looking for a new project for an excess of energy after having built my own house a few years earlier. Welding, fibreglass moulding and a general mechanical knowledge were within my skills, and although I had no lathe, I had the ability to make drawings of the machined parts required for them to be produced by others.
An unusual aspect for a home-built project was that Hybrid was designed and drawn in full detail before actual construction was started. Rather like a professional industrial design project. The design process took almost as long as construction, the whole task taking two years. The overall cost was about the same as the price of a contemporary top-of-the-range UJM, so wanting a cheaper bike was not a motive.
Styling was driven by elements such as the proud exposure of the beautiful engine, wheels and suspension, the twin-headlight nose unit with its shape providing protection for the rider, and the strong horizontal line of the upper components, which was the fashion of the time. The current, strange, bum-in-the-air styling had yet to arrive. Grey/green paint was chosen to contrast with satin-black on the power unit to give a look of class rather than ostentation.
The front-spine plus triangulated tubular frame was a radical departure from the commonly-preferred double-cradle tubular frame, and was chosen because the engine had no means of connecting the cylinder head to the frame; a feature needed to make a cradle frame work well. The front-spine doubled as an effectively-cooled oil tank for the dry-sump engine. Built-in crash-protection projections were included at three points each side; a forerunner of modern 'oggy knobs'. The nickle-bronze-welded frame used Reynolds 531 tubing. With its main side rails passing outside the carburettors like modern side-beam frames, the frame was constructed in an elaborate composite-board and steel jig. All side rails converged at the swinging-arm pivot, emphasising its structural importance.
Although the engine was naturally very smooth-running, this was enhanced further by it being rubber mounted. The result was a bike of uncanny smoothness for the time; a dramatic difference from the contemporary British twins and triples, and one which took some getting used to because it was so easy to reach high speeds inadvertently. Cruising at 160kph, something which would have had those twins in particular disintegrating, was well within the bike's capability. Top speed with the 75bhp or so available was just over 200kph, with the rider sitting comfortably upright behind the unusual but effective, tall, narrow windscreen. Dry weight was 220kg.
Based on the heavy-arrowhead principle of stability, the nose unit housed the twin batteries and other electrical equipment, the whole unit weighing about 12kg. This was not in line with the mass-centralisation principle favoured now, but it seemed to work, the bike being outstandingly stable at any speed.
Other features unusual for the time were: Twin dipping headlights, which some traffic police considered illegal; disc brakes on both wheels before that became common; a windscreen with its top close to the rider's nose-tip, for exceptional protection, clear vision in all conditions, and freedom from helmet-buffeting; hand-guards, long before they appeared on trail-bikes; air horns; electrical cabling run within the frame tubes or cast into the fibreglass parts; a large storage chamber under the hinged-seat, complete with automatic courtesy-light, anti-theft-switch and power socket; a rear carrier on extended frame top rails; enclosed, duplex drive-chain, adjusted by large eccentric bushings at the swinging-arm pivot; a clock; a vacuum gauge, which could be allocated to each cylinder in turn for throttle-balancing; a centrestand mounted on the exhaust pipes at the balance point to allow either wheel to be removed, and those built-in crash-protection projections.
The engine had an unusual 1243 firing order. By 'siamesing' the two adjacent cylinders on each side of the bike, the exhaust note from the straight-through absorption-type silencers was like a rather loud, fast-revving vee-twin. Quite naughty by modern standards, but intoxicating because of it.
Cast aluminium wheels were just coming to motorcycles in the early 1970s, and their long-term reliability had yet to be proven, so stainless steel -spoked Borrani alloy rims were used shod with Dunlop TT tyres, the best at the time.
Getting Hybrid registered was a breeze compared with today's onerous regulations for home-built vehicles. Then, it was a matter of getting a Warrant of Fitness and proving the engine and frame were not stolen. I had bought the engine legitimately from the owner of a wrecked bike, and all other parts were new.
In 1975 Hybrid was featured as a three-part article in the British magazine 'Motorcyclist Illustrated'. Asked to evaluate the bike was Roger Jordan, a motorcycle designer who had worked for most of the major British design offices. He declared Hybrid as, "a special that was really special. The degree of professionalism is remarkable for an amateur builder." And, "If only manufacturers would pay as much attention to details as Graham Allardice has."
By modern standards, Hybrid was physically quite small, with a 1400mm wheelbase. It would also be found wanting in areas of tyre quality, ground-clearance, suspension performance, braking and engine power. 75bhp or a little more from its non-airbox, carburetted engine isn't much now, but at the time it was cutting-edge. My engine had an aftermarket Waggot camshaft, the head was ported and polished, and reciprocating parts were carefully balanced, so its performance would have been a little better than stock. Also the exhaust was very non-restrictive which must have helped as well.
I rode Hybrid from 1974 to 1981, covering just over 50,000km, without significant problems or modifications, but the novelty had worn off and it was time to move on. Being short of garage space to keep it, what to do with Hybrid was a dilemma as well. It was too 'personal' to sell or impose on an owner unable to maintain it, but too 'valuable' to scrap. An approach to Len Southward was met with his acceptance of the bike for permanent display in the world-class Southward Motor Museum near Waikanae, north of Wellington. The bike was ridden there and then prepared for long-term storage, in case it might be ridden again in the future. Sadly, the years in the museum have not been kind to Hybrid. The many polyester resin/fibreglass moulded components and fabricated and other synthetic-rubber parts have deteriorated badly from natural ageing, making the bike a poor relic of the one ridden there over a quarter of a century ago. The last time I saw it, several years ago, I decided not to visit it again because it upset me.
Looking back now, I have no regrets over building Hybrid. It seemed like a good idea at the time and was great fun and very rewarding. Given the prevailing circumstances of 1972, I would do it again. Not today though. Modern bikes are far superior in all performance areas compared with Hybrid, making a similar project pointless for me. However, still I find ways to 'improve' the many bikes I've owned since. Current bikes? A 2005 Moto Guzzi Breva V 1100, and a 2007 Buell XB12Ss Lightning Long. Both were chosen for their sensuality and character rather than the sanitised technical perfection sought, and largely achieved, with Hybrid.
Graham Allardice (2007)
Photo taken in 1981 when the bike arrived at the museum. I was just 40 then. Oh, to be so young again!
The black circles either side of the nose unit cover air-horn trumpets.
The crash points referred to are at the top and bottom of the front spine, and at the top of the rear suspension units.
