Classic Bike Guide -Real rides, real riders

Accidental rarity

Some things are meant to be. With a plot of land big enough for a couple of houses, Dave Armitage set about building first one for himself and his wife, then another next door for his son and his wife. Now while Yorkshireman Dave is a skilful chap – he’s a qualified mechanical engineer and specialist welder – it’s each to their own and the building work was contracted out. During the course of conversation with his architect, the subject turned to motorcycles, prompted in no small way by the Speed Twin and Thunderbird in Dave’s capacious and well-equipped workshop. The architect had a basket case Tiger Cub, “I’d known about it for 20 years or more,” says Dave, “he’d had it almost from new, but I’d never given it any thought. It wasn’t until the houses were finished that I remembered about it, I’d always liked Cubs, so I called him to see if he wanted to sell it – and he’d flogged it two weeks earlier!”

However, that was not the end of the saga because the lad who was busying himself laying the flag stones around the patio area, overheard Dave’s outdoor mobile telephone conversation and informed him that “dad’s got one in the barn.” What’s more said barn was little more than a stone’s throw as the crow flies from where they both stood. The owner of the barn Cub had moved to Skipton but was happy enough to sell the bike.

Dave says, “It was a bit rough. It’d been done up like a scrambler cum field bike but had been laid up untouched for 28 years.”

Naturally, such a project didn’t faze him, after all he’d had motorcycles on and off since he was 17, having passed his test on a 500cc AJS single cylinder outfit. “My first solo was a 1947 16H engined ES2 Norton,” says Dave.

An examination of the Cub showed that engine and frame numbers matched, so he passed them onto Ian Roberts at Serco Engineering for identification. “To say he was surprised when I told him it was T20M, is an understatement, he couldn’t believe I’d stumbled upon a genuine UK Mountain Cub.”

Studying Mike Estall’s Tiger Cub Bible, it transpired the Cub was built on 24 February 1967 and shipped out to a dealer by the name of H C Cecil Ltd, of Ledbury, in Herefordshire. Triumph built 118 for the UK market and Comerfords bought 60 to convert into the legendary Comerford Cub trials irons, so Dave’s is one of the 58 which were released to the public – few of which still survive today, so he’s inadvertently found himself a rare bird.

The Cub was more or less complete but most of the component parts were incorrect, for example it was fitted with 350cc model forks, had a 21in front wheel and a 19in rear, plastic mudguards, an alloy tank and a minimalist trials saddle. Missing were the lights and the toolbox and the engine had a round barrel but on the plus side the fuel tank and seat were present and the standard wide ratio gearbox was intact.

Dave entrusted Serco to do the engine and it was fitted with a new uprated needle roller big end, a re-sleeved to standard bore square barrel complete with new 9:1 CR piston, new mains, valves etc.

With the engine away Dave set about the chassis. The rear shock absorber brackets had been altered so these were cut off and welded back in their rightful positions. Likewise someone had seen fit to cut off the rear footrest brackets, the correct lugs for the seat and the hooks for the tyre pump. Serco supplied Dave with a second frame, from which he used the lugs to correct his Mountain Cub frame. The rear subframe looked to have suffered a big get off at one time, being almost three inches out of line, so Dave straightened it in one of the presses which reside in his workshop.

The footrests were another challenge as the originals had been removed and short replacements welded onto the frame further back, as per trials specification. Serco supplied the correct – and rare – left hand side folding footrest but Dave had to convert a standard footrest for the right hand side. “It wasn’t difficult, I had a look at Ian’s Mountain Cub and it was really only a standard footrest with a folding end on it, so I made one up,” says Dave. With all the welding remedial work complete, it was taken to Metal Magic to be shot blasted. Dave then sprayed it gloss black two pack enamel.

Serco came up with the correct toolbox and forks and while the engine was out, it was converted to 12v, via the appropriate alternator and fitted with a Boyer Bransden electronic ignition, with the power box under the seat, so no battery required.

The choice of a 22mm Mikuni carburettor may upset a few purists but as Dave says, “It breathes and runs perfectly and starts first kick every time.” The carburettor was sourced through Liverpool based Steve Doran’s Moto Carb, and it arrived direct from America, jetted and set up for the Cub. It inhales through a converted car air filter.

New stainless steel wheel rims, 3 x 19in front and 3.5 x 18in rear, were laced onto the refurbished hubs with stainless spokes, courtesy of Serco, and presently wear budget, but perfectly adequate, Cheng Shin tyres.

The comfortable seat came from Greystone Enterprises. Dave says, “I can’t speak highly enough of Greystones and Serco, they were really good and I couldn’t have done it without their help and advice.” Incidentally, while familiar with motorcycles and their workings for many years, the Cub is Dave’s first restoration.

The fuel tank is standard Terrier issue and was supplied by Serco. “Originally, the UK Mountain Cubs were painted grenadier red and alaskan white, with mudguards in alaskan white, and the export models were hunting yellow. I didn’t fancy red, well it’s more orange, and white so I went for the yellow except no one could come up with the correct colour. So I took the picture in Mike Estall’s book to my local paint shop and asked them for the dirtiest yellow they’d got. Eventually I went for this General Motors colour which I reckon looks fine,” says Dave. He drew the line at painted mudguards though and opted for a set of alloy blades, making the stays in stainless himself. He also made the bash plate in stainless.

From a purely personal point of view, trials Cubs look good but otherwise Triumph’s entry model has never really impressed me, even as a youth. However, it was as I was leaving the Barnsley Motorcycle Club’s annual Festival at Wombwell’s International Kart track, in the summer of last year that I spotted Dave’s Mountain Cub. Dave arrived late in the day’s proceedings and I never saw him but I couldn’t help having a closer look at his bike. Polished up and gleaming in the hot sun, that bright yellow fuel tank could not be missed. It really did look a treat so I left my business card and went on my way. Dave duly called a few days later and we arranged a mutually acceptable time to get together.

Dave is self employed and trades under the name of Compact Engineering, specialising in quarry machinery. “I basically strip down massive machines, arrange transport to elsewhere and then reassemble them. So working on the Cub was like anyone else working on a wrist watch,” says Dave.

As I cock a leg across the Cub, Dave’s face takes on that all too familiar expression of apprehension when a journo’ type rides someone’s first restoration. He says, almost apologetically, “It might not start very well, I haven’t had it running for a few weeks.”

He needn’t have worried though because with the fuel on and the choke lever lifted, one sharp kick has the Cub expressing its disgust at his lack of faith with that sharp edged ‘bonk’ through the silencer. I raise my eyebrows at Dave, he just grins.

The Cub takes a few minutes to warm up enough to fully knock off the choke and tickover is a little slow – though once fully warm, it speeds up slightly to a steady, reliable beat.

Into bottom gear with a neat click and then through the widely spaced gears as I follow lensman Baumber and Dave round the houses and out into the countryside. We pull up at a regular woodland, the entrance to which is blocked off by huge boulders to prevent four wheeled vehicle access. “The police regularly use helicopters over here to catch bikes tracking around these woods,” says Dave, as I ride around the boulders and into the woodland tracks, best keep a listen out then.

Naturally enough the Cub is light and lithe and great fun to play at either trials bike or scrambler around the tree routes and well trodden pathways. When Peter signals he’s enough shots of me fooling around, we lift the bike onto the boulders for the statics and then I take it for a canter down the road. The clutch action is light, the brakes work well and with a cruising speed around the 50-55mph mark, the Cub is an ideal tool for a multitude of uses, from green laning and exploring unkempt back roads to taking part in the local vintage runs out. The main beauty of it though is the fact that it weighs so very little, so if your exploratory ventures prove a little too over enthusiastic at times, it’s not a major operation to haul the Cub out of a sticky situation. What’s more, not all of us are built to handle 750s, so the Cub scores on all accounts.

Dave informed me that originally he had the standard 54 tooth sprocket on the rear wheel, which when allied to an 18 on the front (17 is standard) it was way too low geared, so he fitted a 48 on the rear, which he then reckoned was too high, making top gear like an overdrive. Personally I didn’t notice and came back reckoning that for just short of 200cc, it was pretty good. Since the test, Dave has fitted a 52 tooth sprocket and a new piston, dropping the compression ratio to 7:1. “It’s much better now, nice gentle power without having to use the gearbox so much,” he says. Incidentally, the primary chaincase has undergone an oil seal conversion, which now means access can be gained to the front sprocket without recourse to engine dismantling.

Having undertaken quite a comprehensive restoration – and made a jolly good job of it too – Dave is naturally a little reluctant to use the Mountain Cub for the purpose it was designed, “I think it looks lovely and it’s rare too, so I’ll keep it clean and get another bike for use in the bad weather and on the muck,” he says. The trouble is, if he does that one, whatever it may turn out to be, it’ll be just as smart as the Cub and he’ll be in just the same position!

You’ll not see many genuine Mountain Cubs around the UK these days, so if you catch sight of this one, take time out to study form, it’ll be time well spent and you’ll be able to cross it off your list of those almost mystical machines, which came out of the British factories in short supply and which could have been so much more than they were.

Words: Nigel C.
Photographs: Peter Baumber