A look at the Rickman Enfield from 1972

(Motacilla Photo/WikiMedia Commons)

 Maynard Hershon writes the "Back in the Day" section for Motorcycle Sports and Leisure magazine. The magazine has a rich archive of articles he can mine, dating back to 1962. 

As a reader, he first came across the original version of the magazine, as Motorcycle Sport, back in the 1970s. 

The magazine is published in the UK, but Hershon is American, and I sense that he shares my enjoyment for the oh-so-British perspective on motorcycles. 

Recently he sent me an item from a 1972 edition of the magazine, a review of the then new Rickman Metisse, powered by the Royal Enfield Series 2 750cc twin. 

Of course Hershon didn't write it. I don't know who did. There was no byline; British motor magazines had a tradition of anonymous articles, signed with pseudonyms, or initials, or not at all.

The Rickman Metisse reviewed in the magazine in 1972 is undeniably a collectible today, regardless of any flaws it may have possessed at the time. No one cares anymore how many miles per gallon it gets.

The anonymous writer's perspective and style are antiques as well, and just as priceless.

Maynard explains:

"The magazine was produced for lifetime motorcyclists, and for years the editors and writers were horrified by the new 'superbikes,' overweight, over-powered monsters. Eventually, the old magazine grew out of touch with the times and had to change, but handled the change well. I've been in there monthly since the mid-'90s."

Here's an example of what I call great writing, from the 1972 article by the anonymous author, on the Rickman Metisse. First comes the setup:

"The big Enfield engine's good looks have never, I feel, been properly appreciated. Surely it is one of the best-looking motorcycle engines ever produced. It is large, smoothly styled, yet not so 'bland' as to be boring, and with a weight and swell to the finning that give it an almost brutally powerful aspect... which must be a bonus in the looks of any motorcycle that does, in fact, happen to be an extremely powerful performer."

And then comes the kicker:

"Somehow this was never apparent when the engine was housed in the Royal Enfield frame."

Ha!

The Rickman frame doesn't escape unscathed either.

"Add the facts that the Rickman's seat is strictly average height from the ground, and the handlebar grips come rather far back, and you have all the ingredients for a thoroughly uncomfortable riding position for anyone except a motorbike-mad chimpanzee..."

And:

"Riding comfort is not particularly high, which can be blamed (if you think it is a blameworthy matter) on the firm suspension, and not particularly luxurious dualseat and the execrable riding position."

(So the ride is hard, but that's no discomfort, unless you happen to be seated on the motorcycle.)

The engine is "agricultural," and would be better with twin cams, the author reports. And then he writes that it "runs a little short of puff and flattens out at about 105. Still, who's grumbling..."

Who's grumbling! The author answers his own question by using ellipsis instead of a question mark there. Reader, are you so pedestrian as to think a mere 105 is satisfactory? Pity.

The whole article is a sly combination of pats on the back and jabs in the ribs.

And he never lets up, congratulating the Metisse for "no pandering here to effete pretty-pretty looks!"

The author makes it all seem effortless. No pandering here! Sure, the motorcycle is splendid, and well worth the money (insert ellipsis here) if you like that sort of thing.

Readers are left, really, to draw their own conclusions.

But, if they want to see a Metisse on their own, they are in luck, as the magazine posts not one, but TWO advertisements below the article for Elite Motors, sole suppliers of the Rickman, at Garratt Lane, Tooting Broadway, London.

That address, to American ears, must be the most Gilbert and Sullivan touch of all.

Sorry, Tooting is a real place (London's mayor lives in the district). The name is quite serious, and of ancient Anglo-Saxon origin.

No one knows for sure what it means, but it could be derived from an old meaning of the verb "to tout."

Adorable Royal Enfield needs a home

Give this cute motorcycle a home and he'll love you forever.

 This adorable advertisement for a still-new 2023 Royal Enfield Meteor 350 is guaranteed to warm your heart. Here it is, just as I found it, on CraigsList: 

URGENT: Red motorcycle seeks forever human before dealership staff becomes emotionally attached. 

Available for immediate adoption: a brand-new Royal Enfield Meteor 350 in Fireball Red. 

He’s been living comfortably indoors at Williams Vintage Cycle for far too long now. Staff members have started greeting him every morning. One technician may or may not have called him “buddy” last week. This situation cannot continue. 

About him:

Friendly and approachable.

Loves long rides and unnecessary detours.

Extremely photogenic.

Old soul trapped in a brand-new motorcycle body.

Smooth, relaxed personality with zero attitude problems.

Comes fully vetted with Royal Enfield’s factory three-year warranty and roadside assistance.

Adoption fee recently reduced — NOW $1,000 OFF MSRP.

Unlike some high-strung motorcycles, this Meteor 350 isn’t trying to impress anyone. He just wants a calm life filled with scenic roads, weekend rides, and somebody who appreciates classic style without needing 180 horsepower to buy groceries.

At night, after the showroom lights go out, he sits quietly in Fireball Red wondering why everyone keeps choosing Himalayans and Super Meteors instead.

You can change that.

Visit: Williams Vintage Cycle, 511 Home Ave., Xenia, Ohio 45385 or call 937-376-0424. Southwest Ohio’s premier Royal Enfield dealer, proudly helping riders find the perfect motorcycle for over 18 years.

Please adopt responsibly.

Shotgun 650: The Insane Custom Dream

What is a new motorcycle doing in a place like this?

 The Australian moto-journalist thought it was strange. Royal Enfield introduced its shiny new Shotgun 650 model to the United States in Los Angeles in 2024, amid graffiti and urban blight. 

"Why LA? And why the grungy Downtown area?" he asked. Here's the answer he got: 

"Royal Enfield Chief of Design Mark Wells explained it was the ideal place to experience the Shotgun 650 in a range of environments, including what turned out to be sometimes messy urban riding, a loop through a run-down industrial precinct, a multi-lane freeway experience and a blast through canyon country on some fabulous twisty roads." 

And, besides, Los Angeles has a custom-bike scene and, according to Wells, the Shotgun 650 looked to those customs for inspiration. 

Compared to the rest of the Royal Enfield 650 lineup, the Shotgun looks hunky rather than sleek. 

It's a bobber, unafraid of grunge, tattoos, graffiti. It looks like breaking the law is its business.

Where, in this century, did she find a phone booth in Los Angeles?

The launch included a video of the Shotgun 650 racing in darkness, through a spray-can defaced tunnel and along the strictly off-limits concrete ditch of the dry Los Angeles River.

The video is a fantasy, with a sky of ball lighting and a phone booth — a phone booth! — in which an anxious looking young woman attempts to reach someone and fails.

She drops the phone, mounts her Shotgun 650 and competes for "Most Insane Velocity" with a male rider on another Shotgun.

Dawn in Los Angeles. Magically, there is no traffic in this direction.

The couple is joined by other Shotgunners, ending with six of them somehow now doing synchronized maneuvers in the desert.

That was two years ago. So I was surprised, recently, when the Internet served up that video as a commercial on my laptop.

Apparently, Royal Enfield wants you to know the Shotgun 650 hasn't dropped its wild ways.

The tagline is "Inspired by Custom, for Custom."

The one little thing everyone should do

 I feel foolish complaining about this: roadside litter. 

Wars, famines, disease and storms may rage around the world, and I complain about litter? 

In my defense, I note that few wrongs in the world would be easier to fix, at least in the United States, than roadside litter. 

We know who causes litter, don't we? 

And it's not motorcyclists. But motorcyclists seem somehow closer to the bad effects. 

We're watching the road, closely, because we're running on two wheels. Many things can damage your automobile, but your car falling on its side and crashing after hitting something small on the road is pretty unlikely. 

It's also pretty unlikely that you'll be pulled over if you toss that Big Gulp cup out the window. Enforcement is almost nonexistent, and you know it. 

You know you can get away with littering. So why not do it? 

I'll tell you why: because one less empty Big Gulp cup inside your car is not going to make it any neater than it would be if you just tossed the cup in the garbage when you get home. 

And, if you do that, kids won't see you throwing garbage out the window and think, somehow, that if YOU do it, they can too. 

The guilty parties can fix the problem at no special cost to themselves. It's simple:

Just don't throw stuff out the window! 

There. I fixed it.