Be still, my heart; the 750 twin is back

The Royal Enfield 750 twin back. We'd missed it.

 Reward for most inspiring coverage of the newly revealed Royal Enfield Continental GT 750 goes to TheAutopian. 

Even the headline hits the nail right on the head: 

"Royal Enfield Just Unveiled Its Most Powerful Motorcycle Ever, And It Looks Like Your Favorite Bikes Of The Past." 

They sure did, and it sure does. 

The Autopian article by Mercedes Streeter tells it best. 

She acknowledges that the big reveal at EICMA was Royal Enfield's new Himalayan 750 adventure bike. The Himalayan 750  has been expected, teased and awaited so long that it's a relief to finally get a good look at it.

But...

"Then there’s this: the Royal Enfield Continental GT 750. Said to be more powerful than the Himalayan 750, the GT 750 is going to be the most powerful production Royal Enfield ever," Streeter writes.

Be still my heart.

Since Royal Enfield returned to the United States in 1995, with the single cylinder and very obsolete Bullet, fans of Brit styled motorcycles have been yearning for the return of the (nominally) 750 Royal Enfield Interceptor of the 1960s and '70s.

Believe me, I know.

In 1969, I was 19 years old. In 1969, everyone was 19 years old. It was the Baby Boom. We all dressed alike, wore our hair alike, and listened to the same music — British rock'n'roll. Britain was cool.

But what we really wanted, more than anything else, in all that crowd, was to be individuals.

We knew about British bikes: Triumph, BSA, Norton, sure. All cool. But the most special, the most individualistic motorcycle, was the Interceptor 750: gleaming, muscular, fast and loud.

(The Royal Enfield Continental GT 250 of that day didn't inspire the same envy; so few were sold in America that Royal Enfield shipped some back home for sale in Britain.)

Royal Enfield's newest 750 doesn't (yet?) have the Interceptor name. But it has the looks, faired or naked — especially naked.

"But don’t expect an actual hot rod here," Streeter warns. Royal Enfield has made its modern fortune creating motorcycles that people want, at popular prices people like, with power bands that don't necessarily menace life and limb.

"You don't buy a Royal Enfield for speed," Streeter writes.

In the case of the Continental GT 750, you probably could.

Would I buy one?

Well, I'm not 19 anymore, and I don't have any hair left to wear long. My back would prefer the standard seating of the current Interceptor. And the name "Interceptor" (it unfortunately has to be rendered as INT 650 in the U.S.) still tugs at me.

But if you buy the Continental GT 750, I promise I will envy you for your individuality.

Don't overthink changing Royal Enfield oil

By actual measure, you will get only 1.5 quarts of dirty oil from an old Royal Enfield Bullet.

 Incredibly, I disregarded my own advice, given in this column. Scroll to the end to learn the price I paid. 

What was it I used to find so fulfilling about doing an oil change on my 1999 Royal Enfield Bullet 500? 

I did a lot of oil changes, when I was a commuter, racking up 250 miles a week. 

You could say I just got so good at it that it was easy. 

But this was never true, and my garage floor still shows evidence of repeated oil spills from those days. 

Something always went wrong. 

Like the time I forgot to put the drain plugs back in place before adding new oil.

The most common mishap was that I would try to add the designated 2.25 quarts of fresh oil, and the oil tank would overflow.

This prompted me to wonder just how much oil I really needed to add.

Well, how much was I really getting out? My discovery, verified today, was that, left to drain for 24 hours, with both plugs pulled and the oil filter removed, only 1.5 quarts emerge to fill the catch  pan.

A (dirty) quart of oil apparently remains in the motor, where I will never see it.

Remember my mention of the time I failed to insert the plugs before adding oil? I vividly recall that the stream of oil that suddenly cascaded onto the floor was not instantly clean oil, but rather the inky black of old oil, forced out by the stream of new oil.

So, obviously, some old oil does remain in the oil tank, past the point where the dip stick can reach it.

Dowel poked into oil filler finds 1/4 inch of old oil still there.

As an experiment, today I poked a clean wooden dowel into the supposedly empty tank and found about 1/4 inch of old oil remaining. How much is that?

I was afraid you'd ask. So I tried to find out. And failed.

Using a squeeze bulb got out only a few drips, and the old trick of using a drinking straw as a pipette didn't work either.

Squeeze bulb recovered only a few drips of oil.

This much I know: it took approximately 1.5 quarts of new oil to bring the level on the dipstick back up to near the "H" mark. You don't want to overfill it for fear of wet sumping.

Bottom line, get some fresh oil in there. Start with 1.5 quarts, run the motor and check the dipstick.

It's not rocket science. It's just a mess.

Here's what happened: After carefully adding back into the motor ONLY the amount that I had drained during this oil change, I fell victim to my own over caution. Preparing for the next ride I observed that the oil was only partway up the dipstick and I stupidly added an additional pint of clean oil. Naturally the Bullet wet sumped, producing a persistent cloud of smoke.

Proof that i should have listened to my own advice!

Miles fly when you're having fun

Idyllic photo ran with ad for a Royal Enfield motorcycle.

 Watching the Craigslist ads for Royal Enfields, as I do, I'm hardly surprised when a 10-year-old motorcycles goes up for sale with less than 1,000 miles on it. Many riders, apparently, just don't ride. 

So I stopped in my tracks when I encountered this ad, out of Coquille, Oregon: 

Excellent Condition 2023 Royal Enfield Hunter 350 purchased new in July of 2024... Engine Guards, with ADV Lights, and Rear Bag Mounts and $100 DNA Air Filter... New KM1 Front Tire at 32,000 miles and Brand New KM1 Rear Tire!! Complete Service Record of Specified Maintenance... Final Year left on 3-Year Warranty & Roadside Aid... The Hunter handles like an agile Ducati : ) Everywhere from Baja to Alaska and... NEVER Missed a Beat : ) 

The ad lists current mileage as 37,000! 

I replied, learning that the seller is Ken Brooker, 78-year-old long-distance rider who isn't giving it up; he just has a new motorcycle, and already is out riding it long distances. 

Ken Brooker

When I asked him for more information, he simply pointed me to his Facebook page. There, between his lavishly illustrated ride reports (complete with maps), "memories" of previous rides (complete with photos and maps), and the occasional cat cartoon, I learned more about this cheerful character.

He is "Ken Brooker" on Facebook, but be aware that he wants only "Meaningful Friends, NOT Trophy Friends."

Anyway, putting the Facebook scrambled eggs back into the egg shell is impossible. So just come along while I share some highlights, in no particular order.

Ken named his "green-splashed Royal Enfield Hunter 350" Verdita. He names his motorcycles, of which there have been a number, although I didn't catch the name of his Moto Guzzi V7.

Before he was a motorcyclist he did challenging rides up mountains, and down, on bicycles. Recently, after years of  motorcycling, he has returned to pedaling for some trips, camping along the way.

Doesn't matter; he just likes to be on two wheels. Here's what he wrote just the other day:

I am 78 and I Live for "Reading, 'Riting (Code) and 'Rithmetic" but 

I LOVE the 4th "R" -- RIDING!!

37,000 (S)miles in the last two years on "Verdita," my trusty 

Royal Enfield Hunter 350, concurrent with

20,000 (S)miles the last 6 months on my

Honda XR150L, all from SW Oregon... : )

Everywhere To&BackFrom Baja, Utah & Alaska...

One Facebook friend compares him to Itchyboots.

You realize right away that Ken enjoys smiling at himself. Look sharp at this photo, for instance, of Crater Lake this October:

Do you see the one piece of equipment nobody else carries?

"Yes that is an umbrella," he wrote.

And then there is this "fond memory" from 2023:

First fall in 50 years.

He wrote:

Speaking of... Falling -- I've been Road Riding for 60 years; and

I haven't fallen down (i.e. Crashed : ) in 50 years... I guess

I "Progressed" along the Learning Curve after

four Crashes in the first 10 years...

Never MY Fault, of course : ) Once on ice; Once, deep gravel;

Once, in the rain, with a front tire with a PoorMan's tread;

Once, in a traffic circle right after a 

Corvair dumped a pool of oil...

And now that I am still... Alive(!!) I am well aware that is

50% "Skill" and 50% LUCK... If you hit a

Deer or... If a car turns Left...

Right in front of you...

Skill matters not...

So, I bought my CT125 specifically to ride Off-Road!!

Specifically to do an Out&Back on the 2,000-mile

Western half of the Trans-America Trail...

And, the BDRs!

And, knowing... Nothing about riding Off-Road,

I recently took my... First Spill... I'd read it's...

"Routine" when you ride Off-Road!!

I was only going about 5 mph...

I'd read that Sand is Tricky...

I almost Died...

LAUGHING...

(BDR, by the way, is "Backcountry Discovery Route.")

Ken shared another "fond memory" from 55 years ago, when he'd just returned from Vietnam (Seabees). He did an almost four-corners ride, 7,000 "(S)miles" in three weeks (with Sundays off).

A long way to go and a small motorcycle to get there.

He rode a Bultaco Metralla 250cc two-stroke, with a Sears canvas tent and a "Coldman" sleeping bag. Every now and then a spark plug would blow out of the cylinder head, and the Metralla motor once started backwards.

Small motorcycles and big distances still don't scare him.

I LOVE My Honda Trail CT125... In the last 7 months, I have ridden

"Rojita" 14,000 (S)miles... CareFree and TroubleFree...

BUT

Maybe if I rode a bike with more than 8 horsepower, and with a

Top Speed even more than 50 mph, even just...

Around in Circles!!

MAYBE

I would get more...

RESPECT?!

Well, maybe.

The Royal Enfield Hunter 350 may be on the way out, but Ken remains a fan, posting this:

Blondes prefer men with Royal Enfields.

One of the nicest photos on Ken's Facebook features the Hunter 350, with this caption:

"With all the Dead-Ends and wrong turns (and Oatmeal and... Socializing with bartender Rosie at the TTT Lodge : ), the supposed 82 miles from my home to Harris Beach State Park turned into 111 and took me four hours! And I loved every curvy minute."

The end of a curvy day.

The Enfield Bullet: Swagger Forged in Grit

Of thunderous kicks, upturned moustaches, and the character behind the swagger

Amit Kumar, doctor, soldier and author, expresses the importance of the old Enfield Bullet in India:

What a profoundly impressive thing is the so-called Royal Enfield Bullet! Isn't it? The name itself shoots so many rounds of adrenaline and endorphins through you that even the thought of riding one is sufficient to give you goosebumps. Its majestic appearance, the kick-start, and especially that definitive kick culminating in the unmistakable dud-dud-dud-dud are enough to announce that something extraordinary has arrived. Needless to say, for its admirers, the aura of the Bullet overshadows almost every other brand of two-wheeler. 

But what exactly makes this machine so impressive? 

Is it its appearance and imposing personality, its sound, or something that cannot be explained through the language of engineering? Perhaps it is a combination of all these things. 

Imagine a handsome young man sitting proudly on his Bullet, looking into those two impressive front mirrors and giving his moustache a sharp upward twist. His dark sunglasses, neatly combed hair and confident posture complete a picture that could give any film hero a run for his money. 

Circa 1986 Enfield India ad for its majestic Bullet.

And then comes the machine itself. That magnificent body, its contours almost resembling muscular human anatomy, the rounded petrol tank sitting prominently in the upper middle, the leather seat and the thunderous silencer. What an extraordinary combination! (The picture, however, seems incomplete without a beautiful young woman sitting behind him as the pillion rider, her hair dancing in the wind.)

A complete package, almost an AK-47 on two wheels! And the resemblance, at least in my imagination, does not end with its imposing appearance. When the Bullet accelerates in a controlled manner, its measured, rhythmic dud-dud-dud-dud reminds me of the restrained, deliberate character of an AK-47 in its single-fire mode. But when the Beast surges forward with greater intensity, its thunderous rhythm seems almost reminiscent of automatic fire.*

Now imagine the entire combination moving majestically down a road. Could a Range Rover, an open Jeep or even a Harley-Davidson compete with such an appearance? Perhaps in horsepower, technology, comfort or price. But in sheer old-world swagger, the Bullet could give any of them serious competition.

Riding a Bullet was never merely about travelling from one place to another. One did not simply arrive on a Bullet. One announced one's arrival.

I remember my college days in Patiala. Bullets and Bullets everywhere! Inside the hostel premises, handsome, tall Khalsa studs riding their Bullets; outside, on the roads leading towards the market, the thunderous sounds of Bullets reverberating almost everywhere. Our seniors would enter the hostel premises on their Bullets while we were exiting towards the other block. As they negotiated the upward-sloping cemented ramp leading to the hostel entrance, they would invariably give the accelerator an extra twist, amplifying the pitch and intensity of that unmistakable dud-dud-dud-dud. That legendary entrance into the hostel den was nothing short of a deadly announcement of the Beast's arrival.

But I strongly believe that the rider was not merely enjoying and displaying his swagger for others to admire. He was himself experiencing something equally fascinating. That rhythmic dud-dud-dud-dud was perhaps a form of mind therapy, a sound that could lift his spirits, soothe his mind and fill him with an inexplicable sense of satisfaction. The Bullet was not merely announcing its arrival to the world. It was also speaking to the man riding it.

The Bullet was not everyone's cup of tea. And you may certainly count me among them. For me, riding that Beast was something I had to earn. It took almost ten years of dedicated gym training, during which I gradually transformed myself from a lean 57 kg youngster into a 75 kg man. Perhaps my fascination with the Bullet was never confined to its majestic appearance, thunderous sound or masculine swagger. My own physical transformation had taught me the importance of hard work, resilience, grit and discipline. And somewhere along the way, I began associating these qualities with the confidence and swagger of a Bullet rider.

But in my real imagination, the real swagger was never about false bravado. It was about confidence earned through perseverance.

I did eventually ride the Bullet, though only on a few occasions, borrowing it from my friends. I never owned one. But those few rides were enough to experience something I had admired for years. And perhaps one does not necessarily have to live an experience oneself to admire it or pen it down. Sometimes, a story of admiration can be written simply by watching from a distance. Perhaps the Bullet had not changed. But the man aspiring to ride it certainly had.

The kick-start itself was a performance. Unlike modern motorcycles, where the gentle press of a button brings the engine to life, the old Bullet demanded a certain physical effort, confidence and familiarity with the machine. And what if the first kick failed? Well, the rider would try again, sometimes under the amused gaze of those watching him. There was no guarantee that the machine would cooperate merely because its owner wished it to. Perhaps that was part of its charm.

Riding one announced a swagger that was part vanity, part armor. In an era when personal style often communicated more than words, the upturned moustache, dark sunglasses, polished shoes and the unmistakable Bullet became symbols of a man's presence.

The Bullet was not merely ridden; it was experienced. Even today, when motorcycles have become technologically more sophisticated, the old Bullet continues to evoke a special nostalgia. But nostalgia rarely concerns itself with specifications. It remembers the sounds, the people, the moments and, above all, the feeling that followed. For me, the Bullet represents an attitude towards life, a certain confidence and an unmistakable swagger.

I remember telling my wife about a dream in which my favorite God, Bajrang Bali, had descended to Earth on a mission. I asked her, "Considering his charismatic personality, can you imagine which vehicle he would be riding?"

Without a second thought, the only words that came to her lips were, "Royal Enfield Bullet!"

I couldn't have agreed more. Interestingly, even Bollywood seemed to share that imagination. In "OMG – Oh My God!", Akshay Kumar, portraying Lord Krishna, rode a specially customized Royal Enfield-based chopper. Perhaps the association between divine charisma and a majestic motorcycle was not entirely confined to my imagination!

But beyond all that swagger, I have always believed that confidence should be supported by character. And when honesty, empathy, discipline and the courage to stand up for what is right become second nature, they strengthen not merely individuals, but the character of a nation. And somewhere, on an old street, I can still imagine that handsome young man giving his moustache one final upward twist, glancing into those two mirrors and preparing to ride away.

One definitive kick.

Dud-dud-dud-dud.

The machine comes alive. The young man rides away. And the swagger remains. Because a Bullet may announce one's arrival, but it is character that determines one's worth.

*Author's Note: The comparison between the Royal Enfield Bullet and the AK-47 is purely metaphorical, reflecting the author's personal imagination and admiration for the motorcycle's distinctive character and sound.

Doctor and Lt. Col. Amit Kumar.

Amit Kumar is an Indian medical professional, author and armed forces medical officer.

He is the author of two books, "Purely in Love with My Uniform — A Transformation in My Life" (published by The Notion Press) and "Autism and Me — A Journey of Discovery and Growth"  presently available on Amazon, but the same script has been approved by The National Book Trust of India and is in its final stages of publication by them also).

His essays and opinion pieces have appeared in The Tribune, Daily Excelsior, Raksha Samachar, The Indian Hawk and The Good Men Project, among other publications. His writing explores military life, personal courage, fatherhood, disability, resilience and the human experiences that shape ordinary lives.