¿Quantos Pistones? (The Fours)

By Joe Berk

Fours?  I’ve owned a few, and Lord knows I’ve sure seen a bunch of them.  For starters, there’s the 1931 Excelsior-Henderson at the top of this blog (a photo that graces every one of our ¿Quantos Pistones? blogs).  It’s not mine and I didn’t ride it.  I was so interested in photographing that motorcycle, I didn’t realize I was standing next to Jay Leno until he took his helmet off.  I’ve written about that encounter before.

Honda CB 750

When the Honda CB 750 Four came on the scene in 1969, it turned the motorcycle world upside down.  I thought the bike was interesting before I saw one, but I also thought I was a 650 twin kind of guy (you know, Triumphs and BSAs).   The first 750 Four I ever saw accelerated past my house when I was way younger.  It was a gloriously visceral and symphonic four.  To a guy used to lopey Harleys and throaty Triumphs, the CB 750 sounded like an Indy Offenhauser.  When I heard that high performance four-cylinder yowl, it was like walking through the jungle on a moonless night and having an unseen leopard suddenly scream a short distance away.  It reached deep, took hold, and shook me mightily.  I remember it like it happened yesterday.  At that instant, I knew I would own a 750 Four someday soon.  And I did.

Yours truly in the 1970s. Hard to believe it was more than 50 years ago. I loved that motorcycle.

Our family bought our motorcycles from Cooper’s Cycle Ranch in Hamilton, New Jersey.  The CB 750 was $1539 out the door (I can’t remember what I had for lunch earlier today, but I remember that number), and my 750 was the color I wanted.  Honda offered the 750 Four in four colors in 1971 (brown, green, gold, and candy apple red).   I wanted a red one, and Sherm Cooper made it happen.  It was a glorious bike.  I rode it to Canada with a fellow Rutgers student (Keith Hediger, who had a white Kawasaki 500cc triple).  That was my first international motorcycle trip.  I rode it a lot of other places, too.  It was a wonderful motorcycle.  I wish I still had it.

Honda CB 500

I owned two Honda CB 500 Fours.  I bought one from good buddy John who was a high school and college classmate.  I only put a few miles on before putting it on my front lawn with a for sale sign.  It sold quickly.  I liked the bike (it was very smooth), but I needed the cash for something else (I can’t remember what).

Good buddy John and the CB 500 I bought from him.

A similar opportunity popped up decades later when a guy at work had a metalflake orange CB500 for sale at Sargent Fletcher (an aerospace plant I ran in the 1990s).   Metalflake orange was a factory color on the CB 500 Honda.  At $500, I figured I could take a chance.  I bought it, rode it a little bit, never registered the bike, and sold it with a Cycle Trade ad a couple of weeks later.

Suzuki Katana

This was a bike way ahead of its time.  Wow, was it ever fast.  In 1982, the performance was incredible.  It would probably be tame by today’s hyperbikes, but back in the early ’80s, it was something else.

Me and my Katana. I still had some hair in the 1980s. Not much, but some.

Take a good look at that photo.  The ’82 Katana you see above is the only vehicle (car or motorcycle) for which I ever paid over list price.  When it first came out, it was pure unobtanium.  Suzuki only made 500 initially.  I think mine was No. 241.  I paid $5500 for it, which was way over list price in 1982, and I had to go all the way to Victorville to find one.

I thought I had something special, but that only lasted a month or two. After the initial limited release, Suzuki made another 500, bringing the total number to 1,000.  I found that troubling, and I felt cheated.  Those sold quickly, too, so Suzuki went ahead and produced yet another 500.  Those last 500 didn’t sell well at all (Suzuki had reached all the fools like me by then and the market for a bike like the Katana had been saturated).  Suzuki had to discount the remaining bikes heavily to move them.  That really pissed me off.  It would be another 15 years before I would buy another Suzuki (that was my ’97 TL1000S).  The way I was buying and selling bikes in those days, that was a long time.

The Katana was my first ever superbike.  It was scary fast in 1982, and it would probably still be scary fast today.  Thanks to Joan Claybrook and Jiminy Carter (remember those two?), the speedo maxed out at 85 mph (as if that would somehow slow anyone down).

The pipes were one of the coolest things on the Katana.  They were what Suzuki called black chrome and they looked great.  The instrument pod was cool, too. The tach and speedo needles moved in opposite directions, which made it seemed like the two needles were unwinding as you rowed through the gears.  This was my first ever bike with low bars.  I didn’t like them, but the rest of the bike was very, very cool.  I sold the Katana when my first daughter was born.  A fat lady knocked it over in a shopping mall pulling her car out of its parking space.  I took that as an omen.  Time to step away from riding for a bit.  I wish I still had that motorcycle.

Suzuki went on to use the Katana name (a Katana is a Japanese Samurai sword) on other models, but they were never the same at that first 1982 Katana.

Triumph 1200 Daytona

This was a fun machine.  I bought when it was still brand new (but already 7 years old) on Ebay, thanks to an alert from my buddy Marty.  It was $7,000.  As soon as I won the auction, the next highest bidder contacted me and offered to buy it, but I turned it down.

The Locomotive. This was one of the best motorcycles I ever owned.

I’ve written about the Daytona before, and rather than reinvent the wheel, I invite you to read the more complete Daytona story here.

Honda Gold Wing

Back in the day, the initial Honda Gold Wing was a four, as they continued to be for several years.  I thought I wanted one when the Gold Wing was first introduced (I was in Korea at the time and I saw the new Gold Wing in a Cycle World magazine).  But I never acted on the urge to buy one and that was a good thing.  I rode a friend’s a few years later and the bike had no soul whatsoever.  It was boring beyond belief; I would not have thought any motorcycle could be that boring.  But it was and it made me glad I never bought one.

Somewhere in Arizona on a road trip in the ’90s. That’s my CBX (to be covered in a later ¿Quantos Pistones? blog), my buddy Louis V (who went into the witness protection program), and Louis’s Honda Gold Wing (the most boring motorcycle I ever rode).  All the gear, all the time was definitely not Lou’s motto.

Guys who have Gold Wings seem to love them.  Emilio Scotto rode one around the world and wrote a great book about it.  Today, of course, Gold Wings are sixes.  I’ve read that the handling on the new ones is great for a big bike.  But they’re not my cup of tea.  You may feel different about Wings, and that’s okay.


So there you go:  My experiences with four-cylinder motorcycles.  The configuration makes sense from a lot of perspectives.  They can be powerful and they are an almost universal configuration on Japanese motorcycles.  But they’ve grown too big for my liking.  I know there have been smaller fours out there (the Honda CB350 Four comes to mind), but as I’ve matured (read:  become a geezer), I like smaller bikes better.  As always, your mileage may vary.


Missed our earlier ¿Quantos Pistones? stories on the Singles, the Twins, and the Triples?  Hey, no problemo!  Here they are:

¿Quantos Pistones? (The Triples)
¿Quantos Pistones? (The Twins)
¿Quantos Pistones? (The Singles)


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The 2005 Three Flags Classic: The Intro!

Feel like going for a motorcycle ride? How about the Southern California Motorcycle Club’s Three Flags Classic?

Headed for Canada…nope, we were not draft dodgers. We were riding in the 2005 Three Flags Rally! That’s Marty on the left and Joe on the right.

This is one of the best motorcycle runs in the world, spanning (as the name implies) three countries: Mexico, Canada, and the United States. My friend Marty and I, along with 457 other motorcyclists, rode the Three Flags in 2005. It was the 30th Anniversary of this grand event, and it was a hoot.

The Route

What a run this was! We rode our motorcycles from our homes to Tijuana (Mexico), Gallup (New Mexico), Grand Junction (Colorado), Driggs (Idaho), Whitefish (Montana), Calgary (Canada), Penticton (Canada), Portland (Oregon), Roseburg (Oregon), Davis (California), and back home…a 12-day round-trip sprint spanning just under 5,000 miles.

The map. GPS? We don’t need no stinkin’ GPS!

It was a grand ride. Speeds ranged from slogs through traffic to a few times when we cruised at speeds north of 130 mph. Temperatures ranged from ungodly hot to subfreezing. We had sunny days and we had rain. It was grand. I’ll do my best to tell the story with pictures and words, and you’ll have to imagine the rest. Did I mention that it was a great ride?

The Bikes

Marty rode his K1200RS Beemer (with close to 100,000 miles on it when we left) and I rode my ’95 Triumph Daytona 1200 (the only Triumph motorcycle in the entire event). At the banquet in Calgary, Charlie Coyner (the event director) announced that there were 218 Hondas (most of these were Gold Wings), 90 Harleys, 90 BMWs, 34 Yamahas (mostly FJRs), about a dozen Suzukis (mostly DL1000s), about a dozen Kawasakis, and one Triumph.

Yep, one Triumph, and that was me!

The Equipment

I used my Nikon N70 film camera with just two lenses (the 24-120 Nikon, and the 17-35 Sigma). Yep, in 2005 I was still shooting film. The photos were okay…not as good as I would be able to do in later years with my Nikon digital cameras, but not terrible, either. Hey, you go to war with the Army you have, and in 2005, that was my trusty old N70.

Other gear included included Joe Rocket pants, jacket, and gloves, a Firstgear rain jacket, a Gerbing electric jacket (it was worth its weight in gold as we continued north), an HJC helmet, Haix boots (from Australia; they are wonderful!), a Nelson Rigg tank bag, and Oxford saddlebags.

The Guys

That would be Marty and me, and four other guys we rode with who were part of the Brown BMW First Church of Bob. Everybody but me was on a Beemer.

Did I mention I was the only guy in the entire Three Flags Rally on a Triumph?

Most of the time it was just Marty and me. The other three guys were off riding their separate ways, but Marty and I rode together for the entire trip. Marty is a retired Superior Court judge. At the time, I was heading up Layne-Christensen’s western US water treatment business sector. Marty told me about the event and I wanted to go. You had to pay for tickets and hope  your name was drawn, and ours were not. I thought that would end it, but nope, Marty told me that happens. You just wait and some of the guys who had been drawn would be selling their tickets, that’s what occurred, and Marty and scooped up a couple.  Then I had to ask my boss at Layne for two weeks off, and I thought that would kill it. But nope, he was a good guy, too, and he told me I should go for it. (A side note: Layne was in the drilling business, too, and when those Chilean miners were trapped underground a couple of years later, this same guy ran the drilling project that reached and retrieved the miners…how’s that for “genuine good guy” credibility?)

So, we were off. But I don’t want to force feed you through a fire hose and try to cram the entire 5,000-mile Three Flags Rally into a single blog.  We’ll present this story in six or seven separate blogs. This is just the first one…the introduction…something to whet your appetite, as they say.

Stay tuned!

Dream Bike: ’95 Triumph Daytona 1200

Somewhere in New Mexico on the 2005 Three Flags Rally with my ’95 Daytona 1200, a bike I still dream about.

I guess a bike can still be a dream bike if you owned one and then sold it. Hell, I still dream about my Triumph 1200 Daytona, so I guess it qualifies. It was a fantastic bike. A real locomotive. Crude, strong, powerful, and fun.  And fast.  Wow, was it ever fast!

I first saw a 1200 Daytona at a CBX Honda meet (yeah, I had one of those, too). It was at a guy’s house somewhere in Hollywood, and this dude also had a black 1200 Daytona.  Well, maybe that’s not quite right…I saw one at the Long Beach Show even before then, but I didn’t really appreciate what it was all about. This CBX guy was laughing and telling me about the Daytona’s design.

“What they did, har har har, was basically just hang an extra cylinder off the right side of the motor, har har har,” he said. “Here, har har har, take a look at this, har har har,” and with that, he walked behind the Daytona and pointed to the engine. Holy mackerel, I thought. It had been a 900cc triple. Now it was a 1200 four, and the added girth of that extra cylinder stuck out of the frame on the right.  They didn’t even re-center the engine in the frame.  Anything this crude, I thought, I had to have. Har har har, the CBX guy was right.  This was a machine worth owning.  I had to get me one.

I guess the feeling passed (they usually do), but that bike stuck in my mind.  I had pretty much forgotten all about that Daytona until one day when I received an email, way back in ’02, from my riding buddy Marty. It seemed there was a brand-new 1995 Triumph Daytona on Ebay.  7 years old, never sold, and the dealer in Wisconsin was auctioning it off on Ebay. In 2002.

Jesus, I was still on dial up Internet in those days.  I can still hear the squelching when I logged onto AOL to get to the Internet.  This can’t be right, I thought, as I studied the Ebay listing.  I called the dealer. He was a Ducati and Kawasaki guy now, somewhere in Wisconsin.  Used to be a Triumph dealer.  He got the Daytona when he was still selling Triumphs, he had put it on display (it was stunning), nobody bit, he was anxious to sell, he lost the Triumph franchise years ago, and he was finally getting around to unloading the Daytona. Yep, it’s brand new, he told me. Never registered. 0.6 miles on the clock. $12,995 back in ’95.  I already knew that.  It was beyond my reach back then.

I did the only thing I could think of. I put in a bid. Using dial up. On Ebay. My friend Marty was shocked. So was I.

Over the next several days, the price climbed. Then it was D-day. Then H-hour. Then M-minute. The bid was $7,195. For a 7-year old, brand new, originally $12,995 motorcycle. I waited until there were just a few seconds left and I put in a bid for $7,202. On dial up Internet. Nothing happened. That was dial up for you.

The auction ended, my dial up Ebay was flashing at me. I swore up a blue streak, cursing the genes that had made me a cheap SOB who wouldn’t pay extra for broadband.  I used dial up to save a few bucks, and now it had cost me big time.  I thought I had let that dream bike get away. Then Ebay announced the winner, and it was me.

Yahoo! (No, Ebay and AOL!)  I won!  Whoopee!

My dream come true, after arriving from Wisconsin by air. I had visions of flying to Wisconsin and riding back, but when I called, the dealer’s wife told me he was out front shoveling snow…
I know. Stunning. Mine. A dream come true.
Beauty like this can drive ya buggy. The aftermath of a CLASSIFIED high speed run across central California on Highway 58.

A few days later, I had the bike, and my dream came true. I put 20,000 miles on it, I rode the thing from Canada to Mexico on the 30th Anniversary Three Flags Rally with Marty (I was the only Triumph among the 400 bikes that rode the event that year), and then I sold it. A dream come true, and I sold it.  I know, I know.   What was I thinking?

I can still dream, I guess, and I often do, of that big yellow locomotive with one cylinder hanging off the right side…



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