"Thought you might like to see the result of my resolution to complete (and ride) my restored motorbike by my 70th birthday. The Norton was taken off the road in 1981 and has been kept in bits in my garage since then.
My grandson, William (aged 10), has been on the back and says that it was the best thing he has ever done in his life. It rather made it worth the effort!"
I asked him to give a more detailed account of this project as I was sure that many of our group would be interested. As you would expect he has completed the project to his usual 'perfectionist' standards. Here is his story:
THE NORTON RESTORATION
I bought the Norton in 1973 for £105. It is a 1960 Dominator 88 De Luxe
(the De Luxe means that it is fitted with the fairing around its rear end)
and had 40,000 miles on the clock. I rode it until 1981 for general enjoyment
and for ferrying my then teenage kids to their multitude of cultural activities.
By that time, it was beginning to show its age - rather like its owner.
There was rust coming through the rear fairing, the alloy rim on the front
wheel had a dink in it and the exhaust system was rusting to pieces.
Originally, it had been painted cream/ blue but one of the previous owners
had over-painted the blue bits black. I liked neither of these liveries and
as the paintwork was rather tatty anyway I had resolved to do it up in proper
Norton colours of black and silver.
So much for good intentions! Back in the 1980s I began stripping paintwork,
removed the rear fairing and dismantled the wheels. This latter was a big
mistake because it meant I couldn't move it without the help of a team of
strong lifting men. I got as far as buying a new exhaust sytem, spot welding
mild steel sheets over the rusted lacework of the fairing and buying a new rim
and spokes for the front wheel. Then I took up serious cycling i.e. time trials
of 10, 25, 50, 100 miles and 12 hours. The training necessary to sustain this
level of commitment put paid to any further progress with restoration for about
15 years. This is sufficient time to forget how to put the machine back together
again.
I retired in 1996 (but not from cycling) and thought that I might now have time
to get on with the restoration. This fresh stimulus involved spending more money
on paint, a wiring loom, a twin-leading-shoe front brake assembly (£215) and several
other crucial bits and pieces but still very little actual work. It was not until
2002 that I decided that I needed to set a specific target. This was to ride it
again by the time I reached my 70th birthday in June 2006.
I did most of the work myself, contracting out only some chrome plating and some
welding on the frame. I suppose that you're only interested in my problems and
mistakes. There were plenty. Firstly there was the hunt for missing bits.
The most vital component to go missing was a short spindle for the rear brake
drum. This retains the drum and rear sprocket in position when the back wheel
is removed. Part of the problem was that I had even forgotten what it looked
like. It was eventually found in an old tin of scrap metal bits but the search
was spread over two years or so. Then the paint I had procured included a
self-etching primer (not to be sold to the general public). This was accompanied
by serious health warnings regarding inhalation so I then had the problem of
determining the right filters for my face mask. I'm still OK so I probably got
that bit right.
Having completed all the paintwork and cleaned all the greasy and/or rusty
fasteners and other mechanical components I wrapped everything either in bubble-wrap
or labeled plastic bags, depending on size. Then the re-assembly work was started.
The rear suspension units were a problem because I wasn't strong enough to compress
the springs and I had lost the split collets that keep the assembly together anyway.
The replacement collets were of the wrong size and needed modifying anyway.
The solution to the compression problem was to make a pair of timber blocks to fit
each end of the units and to achieve compression using a sash cramp.
It was both fiddly and slightly dangerous but it worked.
Having got the engine and gearbox assembly back into the frame, I felt I was on a
roll. Next to go on was the primary chaincase inner, followed by the alternator
and engine sprocket. It really looked as though it was coming together beautifully.
Then I found the nearside footrest support tube that fits between the primary
chaincase and the engine plates. So off came the engine sprocket, alternator and
chaincase inner to fit the footrest tube. Then it was all back together again,
this time including the clutch assembly and primary chain. Of course, it all had
to come off again in order to fit the centre stand fixing bolts. The last time
this process had to be completed was when the bike had been completely finished
apart from fitting the prop stand. So if you see a Dominator being ridden around
without a prop stand you will know that the restorer couldn't bear to dismantle the
whole primary drive system one more time in order to fit it.
No work had been done on the engine and gearbox during restoration and the engine
fired up without difficulty when first kicked over. However, one final snag was a
petrol leak from the float chamber because I hadn't fitted a thick enough sealing
washer under the float tickler. The consequent flood of petrol onto the small
fairing over the engine plates demonstrated that my paintwork was soluble in petrol.
I had used Halford's aerosol automotive paint for many of the smaller parts including
the subject engine plate fairing. I had failed to appreciate that this paint was
acrylic and that such paints are not resistant to petrol. We never had that problem
with nitro-cellulose in the 1950s.
