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The vivid gas tank of the Triumph X-75 Hurricane.

 The triple exhaust of the Triumph X-75 Hurricane.

Besides the vintage Hurricane, Dean Mojon also owns a 2000 Triumph Sprint RS.

(Photos by Bud Wilkinson)

Originally published May 19, 2007 in The Republican-American.

RARE HURRICANES

ATTRACT ATTENTION 

Update: After owning his Triumph X-75 Hurricane for 19 years, Augie Tholen sold it in early October to a collector in Maryland for $9,000 more than he paid for it. (Posted November 16, 2007)

BY BUD WILKINSON

     The 1973 Triumph X-75 Hurricane is simply unforgettable. It’s an attention-grabbing, three-cylinder motorcycle with a fan-like exhaust that is worthy of display in a museum of fine art. To hide one of these rare bikes, much less two of them, from public view and to have them covered and stored away in basements spits in the face of the bike’s alluring design, its bright color scheme and its hit-the-road attitude. 

     Yet that’s what Dean Mojon of New Hartford (above) and Augie Tholen of Goshen (below left) have done. They’ve carefully concealed their Hurricanes in their heated basements. Mojon takes the added precaution of actually sealing his classic machine in a zippered plastic bag, along with a container of a drying agent to prevent any possibility of humidity imperiling its brilliant orange, yellow and chrome luster.

     “It’s in a reasonably temperature-controlled room. It never gets hot-hot or cold-cold,” explained Mojon, noting that the temperature in his basement is usually within 10 degrees of 59. He spoke while standing in his driveway on a clear, dry afternoon earlier this month after methodically unwrapping his Hurricane and rolling it outside into the spring sunshine.

     A few yards away on the road, riders periodically rumbled past aboard traditional, cookie-cutter, modern-day cruisers – every one of them oblivious to the fact that a jaw-dropping sight was resting on its kickstand within eyesight had they glanced through the gap in the rhododendrons.

     Mojon bought the Hurricane in 1974 for $1,600. It hasn’t seen a road in 20 years and only has 2,165 miles on its odometer. He prefers to ride two other bikes in his subterranean collection, a green 1971 BSA Thunderbolt 650 and an orange 2000 Triumph Sprint RS. He also owns a yellow 1971 Norton 750 Commando.

     Tholen bought his Hurricane in 1988 for $5,500 and has ridden it less than 7,000 miles in 19 years. Its odometer lists roughly 13,120 miles traveled.

      “I enjoy the hell out of riding the bike,” said Tholen, chatting animatedly two days later over drinks at Maggie McFly’s in Middlebury after driving to Stratford for a quick photo shoot. His Hurricane was then at the Competition Cycles repair shop being readied for the riding season and possible sale.

     “You gotta like the vibration in your ass and in your fingers, and holding on to the handlebars with white knuckles. That’s what the ride is all about,” he said.

     Both primitive by today’s technological standards and visionary, the British-built Hurricane was designed by an American, Craig Vetter. Fewer than 1,200 were ever produced, beginning on the fall of 1972, and all are considered 1973 models. Mojon’s bears the stamp NH00116, while Tholen’s is marked PH00697. The crankcases on both engines are etched with the letters “BSA.”

     Those initials stand for Birmingham Small Arms, the company that once made both BSAs and Triumphs. In the ‘50s, the company was the largest producer of motorcycles in the world, but competition from Japan and Germany in the ‘60s had BSA facing bankruptcy by the early ‘70s.

     “It was Triumph’s last attempt to get ahead of the curve,” said Tholen of the Hurricane. “Unfortunately, at that time, the Japanese invasion did them in.”

     In Mojon’s mind, the reason for the disappearance of the BSA brand by 1973 and Triumph’s limping status until John Bloor bought the nameplate in 1983 was due to the fact “a tremendous company became managed by people who had no motorcycle experience.”

     Secretly charged to come up with something special for BSA was the then-27-year-old Vetter, a designer whose own company specialized in motorcycle fairings. He was hired in 1969 by BSA’s stateside manager, Don Brown, to “Americanize” the company’s Rocket 3 model. Management back in England wasn’t informed and the bike was funded from petty cash.

     The ultimate result of the stealth project was branded a Triumph, although Mojon’s Hurricane has bolt covers for the shock absorbers that bear the BSA logo on the left side and the Triumph emblem on the right.

     Now, nearly 37 years after “Cycle World” magazine gave the world the first look at the prototype bike with a tantalizing September 1970 cover display that teased “IS THIS THE NEXT BSA THREE?” (and 35 years after the bike’s launch), Vetter gets satisfaction from having designed a truly memorable motorcycle.

     “All the parts are correct on the thing,” he said matter-of-factly when reached by RIDE-CT at his home in Carmel, Calif. What he likes most about the Hurricane is “just the overall package,” which he termed “very handsome.”

     With so few Hurricanes in existence worldwide – a little digging suggests that there may be at least two more hiding out in Connecticut – the chances of actually seeing a Hurricane out on a state highway are probably less than it is for us to get slammed by a real hurricane.

     A museum, such as the Motorcycle Hall of Fame in Pickerington, Ohio, is a more likely place to see a Hurricane. Nine years ago, New York’s Guggenheim Museum even included a Hurricane in a motorcycle exhibition, along with a BSA Rocket 3. The purpose, said Vetter, was to fully demonstrate the “difference between corporate design and one personal artist’s design.”

     Recalling the lure when he bought his Hurricane, Tholen said, “I thought the bike was ahead of its time. Every time you go out, it turns heads.”

     So does Vetter – at least in England, where Triumph owners appreciate his contribution to the company’s rich history. He recalled attending a 30^th anniversary celebration of the Hurricane in England. “They actually assigned a bodyguard to me,” he said.

     Despite the bike’s now revered and collectable status – a flawless example can fetch as much as $30,000 today – Vetter still doesn’t like one part of his design, the much-photographed triple exhaust. “I could not stand the fanned out exhaust pipes. I tried every combination that I could. I was never really happy with it,” he said.

     These days, Vetter’s still designing motorcycle fairings and trying to help boost motorcycle gas mileage. He notes that motorcycles once used to routinely get three times the mpg of cars. While car mileage has improved over the past three decades, motorcycles haven’t made similar strides.

     Like Mojon, Tholen is a British bike aficionado. He has also owned other British motorcycles – a 1970 Triumph Bonneville, a 1972 Triumph Daytona, a 1974 Norton Interstate and a 1975 Norton Commando. He got rid of them all several years ago and kept the Hurricane, although he’s now thinking of selling it, too.

     “The thing that amazes me most about the bike is that I’ve never had any trouble with it,” said Tholen, pausing before recalling that he did once flood the carburetors and that they caught fire when he tried to kick start it. The flames were quickly doused, though.

     “It handles very well. I can scrape the foot pegs on Route 7 along the Housatonic (River),” he said of the enjoyment he gets when he occasionally takes the cover off of his Hurricane.

     Mojon’s take in the Hurricane’s street feel is a bit different. “It rides kinda choppy, kinda stiff,” he said.

     But sitting in the sun, its nearly day-glow paint seemingly relishing the rare outdoor exposure, Mojon’s pristine Hurricane looked ready to howl like a, well, hurricane. Mojon summed up his Hurricane with the same reaction of almost anyone who sees one: “It looks pretty hot.”