Is this the silliest motorcycle ad ever?

Why is a man in a tux disassembling a motorcycle?

 Of all the silly advertisements ever created to sell motorcycles, the most ridiculous, in my opinion, was a 1953 magazine ad for Vincent motorcycles. 

This is fair enough, because I also am of the opinion that one of the most brilliant motorcycle illustrations ever was a painting of a Vincent HRD motorcycle in action. More on that later. 

Let's do the silly part first. 

So here we have a drawing of a man in what appears to be fancy dinner dress disconnecting the rear half of a Vincent motorcycle. 

I'd only ever seen one reproduction of this advertisement on the Internet, in low resolution, so I purchased a copy of the Sept. 3, 1953 Motor Cycling magazine to see the original.

I've scanned the full-page Vincent ad in high resolution, and included it on this blog post so you can see it and even read the small print.

(Click on the image, then right click on it to open in a new tab; and you can expand it even farther.)

In the illustration, the gentleman appears to be lifting, or about to lift, the detached back end of the bike, complete with wheel, tire, subframe, fender, brake, seat, kick stand, chain guard, shock absorbers and suspension. A pretty heavy job. 

The headline reads "No.2, Features that put VINCENT in a class by itself." 

The number 2 indicates that there were a series of ads touting Vincent features. No. 1 was for "the unique Vincent Girdaulic front fork."

Vincent was proud of its fancy front fork.

The Girdaulic was indeed unique (no one else bothered with such a thing). It combined the "best features" of telescopic forks (dampening) with those of girder forks (rigidity). No tuxedoed gentleman was depicted messing with it.

I don't know if there was a "No. 3" in the series of advertisements. Vincents did have other features to tout, including enormous powerplants.

You know the famous photo of Rollie Free stretched out in only a bathing suit, riding a motorcycle to a 150 mph speed record? Yup. He was on a Vincent.

Possibly the most famous motorcycle photo ever taken.

The bathing suit was impractical and dangerous for a speed run, but Free wanted to go for the best streamlining possible. He even wore a woman's bathing cap. No dinner suit for him.

The well-dressed man in advertisement No. 2 is brave to a lesser extent, being shown having undone the oily chain, which is seen dangling on the ground at his feet. No way he didn't ruin his clothing doing that.

So, what IS he doing?

According to the ad copy, the drawing illustrates the great "accessibility" of the Vincent motorcycle. The rear suspension, it boasts, can be "removed in a matter of minutes by the simple operation of undoing three nuts, driving out three bolts, uncoupling the rear chain and detaching the rear brake cable and rear light wire."

You would never do this. Not in a tux. So it's silly.

But maybe the advertisement worked. Because it made you stop and look.

Whether in a 1953 magazine or a 2024 TikTok, the first thing any advertisement has to accomplish is to make you look at it.

In this case, the ad's real message may have been not in the illustration or the copy, but the simple motto, at the bottom:

"Motorcycles of the future will be judged by the standards set by Vincent today."

If you have heard at all about Vincent motorcycles, you probably believe that statement to be true. They were advanced motorcycles.

Just ask Hunter S. Thompson.

"A fantastic bike," he wrote of the Vincent Black Shadow, going on to exaggerate slightly.

"The new model is something like two thousand cubic inches, developing two hundred brake-horsepower at four thousand revolutions per minute on a magnesium frame with two Styrofoam seats and a total curb weight of exactly two hundred pounds."

Now, quickly, what about my favorite motorcycle illustration ever?

It is R.C. Reyrolles' 1945 painting of a prototype HRD-Vincent Series B. Rapide.

After this, no one ever again had to explain the thrill of motorcycling.

Scotland, Vincents and a classic movie

What better way to tour than on a 1952 Vincent Black Shadow motorcycle?

 This summer's vacation in the western isles of Scotland left me with a taste for Scottish heather ale and new respect for riders of vintage British motorcycles. 

I personally didn't ride; I drove, enough of a challenge for an American getting used to staying left and shifting with my left  hand. 

Still, I was filled with wonder at the wonderful (narrow!) roads of the island of Mull and the sight of two Vincent motorcycles in the colorful port of Tobermory on Mull. 

This was quite a summer vacation for a resident of Florida. It was a big change going from a place of oppressive summertime sun to a place where any sunshine at all is a welcome godsend. 

Rain didn't prevent this Vincent from taking to the road.

A special treat was making our way to spots on Mull used in the making of the 1945 movie "I Know Where I'm Going," staring Roger Livesey and Wendy Hiller.

If you've seen this classic movie, you know that it also stars the awesome Highland geography of Scotland and the wild sea that surrounds Mull.

Driving through that geography means miles on end of single-track roads, diving into occasional pull-outs to avoid on-coming traffic. If no pullout is close you may have to back up to find one.

The single-track roads we encountered on our vacation seemed just as narrow as they were in the 1945 movie!

Walking along a single-track road on the island of Mull.

"You're TOO CLOSE on my side," my wife would shout.

"I'm too close on my side, too," I'd respond.

There was no room to spare, and here we were driving one of the smallest cars Americans have seen: a Fiat 500.

Respect for people who do this daily.

And respect, too, for the riders of the Vincent motorcycles we saw, and not only because of the roads. The weather was a factor too.

"You'll have to wipe the rain off the seat," a wife advised a rider preparing to mount.

Vincent on tour, in Tobermory, island of Mull, Scotland.

But, oh, the glorious melodic sound of that Vincent V-twin as the he rode off.

I could develop a taste for that sound.

First, though, I'd like to quench a different taste developed in Scotland: for Scottish heather ale. The whiskey is fine, but the heather ale is heavenly.

Best motorcycle photo is often a close-up, if you're careful

1937 Rudge Ulster entered by Ike Miarachi, of Hollywood, Fla.

When it comes to vintage motorcycles, I find the appeal is often in the details: the clever solutions to common problems, a small part that becomes a bit of shiny jewelry, the pride evident in the display of the brand name.

So, at motorcycle shows, I very often tend to take close-up pictures of details I appreciate. Besides, sometimes bikes are displayed in such tight ranks that it's hard to get a nice over-all picture, even of an overall beautiful motorcycle.

Police lights light up an elderly Indian.

Taking close-up pictures was what I was doing at the Dania Beach Vintage Motorcycle Show in Florida last weekend when I almost got in trouble. No, I didn't accidentally swing my point-and-shoot camera against someone's precious polished gas tank.

What caused concern was that I was down on my knees photographing the words "Made In England" cast into the engine case of a 1948 HRD-Vincent Black Shadow. The owner quite reasonably asked if what I was doing was photographing the serial numbers.

1948 Vincent/HRD proudly displays its origin.

I don't know much about rare Vincents, but I know that there are issues involved with cloning expensive motorcycles and their paperwork. Embarrassed, I hastily explained what I was doing. In the picture published here I have carefully blotted out the numbers that were visible under "Made In England."

Once reassured, the owner kindly pointed out the details of the motorcycle, certainly one of the fastest of its day. The reversible rear wheel, for instance, provided an extra rear sprocket for duty pulling a sidecar. Imagine asking a thoroughbred like this to pull a cart!

1948 Vincent/HRD entered by George Bathory of Hollywood.

It was a different world, alright.

What if you won a Vincent motorcycle?

Congratulations! You've just won a perfect, completely restored 1953 Vincent motorcycle in a raffle. The motorcycle is immensely collectible, gorgeous and reputedly capable of 128 mph. It's yours, free and clear -- or, you can take a cash payout.

What would you do?

The motorcycle is on eBay now, up for auction by the foundation that owns it because the raffle winner chose to take the money. The foundation behind the AMA Motorcycle Hall of Fame Museum must sell the Vincent, to recoup the money it paid the winner.

We can only speculate on whether the winner already has too many priceless Vincent motorcycles to make room for another one (unlikely). Perhaps, in this economy, he needed the money more than a motorcycle.

Here is what he is missing out on, according to the eBay auction:

"This is a Vincent Black Shadow Touring model which sports enameled fenders and beefier tires than a standard Vincent Black Shadow. It was restored by Brent Mayfield of Centerville, Ohio and Canadian Vincent expert, Mike White. The rolling chassis was fully restored and re-bushed and the engine was rebuilt inside and out. Brent and Mike took great pains to use as many refurbished all original parts as possible avoiding replica pieces now available. More than 90% of the fasteners are cadmium plated and the remaining are stainless steel. It is a multi- show winner and, Brent says, a 'one kick starter.'"