Royal Enfield's forgotten foot gearshift

 Royal Enfield's long history as a motorcycle maker has many valleys and many mountains. So it's no surprise that reading its history leads to surprises around every corner. 

I'd vaguely accepted that Royal Enfield introduced foot shifting as an alternative to hand-operated gearshifts in 1933, along with their new Bullet model. Foot shifting was a big selling point, as it eliminated the need to take a hand off the handlebars. 

Royal Enfield actually had tried a foot shift much, much earlier, on its 1911/1912 Model 170 ladies step-through motorcycle. That attempt lasted only one year. Perhaps not enough ladies wanted to go motorcycling then.

Royal Enfield tried again, in 1924, and this time not just on the ladies' model. It would have a fancier heel-and-toe lever that incorporated the clutch. It was the brain child of founder and managing director Robert Walker Smith. His brilliant idea apparently worked just fine, but, again, the timing was wrong. 

Two-speed Royal Enfield foot shift, circa 1924. This example appeared on eBay in April, 2024.

I'd seen a reference to early foot-shifting in Jorge Pullin's My Royal Enfields blog, but failed to realize the significance of it. 

The light bulb went on during a recent re-reading of Peter Miller's book "Royal Enfield, The Early History, 1851-1930."

Let's start with the innovation of shifting gears in the first place.

When introduced in the 1910s Royal Enfield's unique two-speed gearbox was revolutionary. Neatly combining gearshift and clutch in one, it shifted drive force between either of two unequal size chainwheels (you got neutral if neither was engaged).

The two-speed Royal Enfield boasted of a considerable improvement in hill-climbing power and engine flexibility compared to single-gear machines (although, being cautious, the company continued to sell those, too, in 1910).

To choose between gears, the adventurous Royal Enfield rider rotated a lever extending above the flat tank. This looked something like the control lever of a trolley car.

Prototype Ladies' Model had hand-shift lever, but production models would get the innovative foot shift. Photo from Peter Miller's "Royal Enfield, The Early History."

And that eventually became a problem, Peter Miller writes in  "Royal Enfield, The Early History, 1851-1930."

"Hand changing of gears would remain in use for many years, but the tram-type of lever was becoming antiquated. Also it was impractical on drop frame (ladies') models due to the lack of an upper anchorage point. Robert Walker Smith's solution was to adapt the Enfield Patent two-speed gear to foot operation.

"His revised design is presented in Patent application number 23,132/23 which was titled 'Improvements in or relating to variable speed gear mechanism, suitable for motor cycles and the like.'"

Basically, the trolley-car style hand controller was replaced with a rocking heel-and-toe pedal. This elegant solution was standardized in 1924 on all but the cheapest of Royal Enfield's single-cylinder models.

Drawing from Peter Miller's "Royal Enfield The Early History."

Almost as soon as it was invented, though, the clever foot-change pedal would be dropped. 

Peter Miller explains:

"The Royal Enfield patent two-speed gear had served the company well over many years. It provided direct drive on both gears and with its self-contained clutch was simple for the rider to master. Arguably two-speed gears were perfectly adequate for the low-tuned engines of the period, but by this time (1924) most manufacturers were offering machines with three-speed gearboxes. For Enfield to remain competitive it was necessary to follow the trend and the Royal Enfield two-speed gear would be phased out over the next two years.

"The new (for 1924) mid-range machines were offered with the Royal Enfield two-speed gear as standard, but with an option for a three-speed Sturmey-Archer three-speed gearbox and hand change," Miller writes.

For 1925 the foot-change was limited to only Royal Enfield's two-stroke models. For 1926 the two-stroke models themselves were redesigned, and now carried two-speed constant-mesh gearboxes with the hand-operated gear change lever.

The foot shift was gone.

Illustrations in Peter Miller's book show that a way was even found to attach the two-gear hand-shift to the ladies' open-frame models of 1926.

Wasn't this a step backwards? 

Would not some customers have preferred the simplicity of the rocking foot lever for gear and clutch to the complication of a hand shift for one hand and the attendant clutch lever for the other?

Royal Enfield apparently didn't think so. Not at all.

According to Peter Miller's book, the company even constructed a prototype drop-frame model equipped with a 347cc JAP motor and three-speed Sturmey-Archer gearbox.

But what were they thinking? It wouldn't have been safe to wear a skirt on that hot rod, and why ride a drop-frame model in pants?

In all of motorcycle history, the drop-frame 350 may be the best example of answering a question no one ever asked.

But the foot-change gearbox shift would be back. Ironically, its reappearance would be linked to another Royal Enfield innovation: the neutral finder.

Vintage Royal Enfield plug is new

I thought you'd have to look a long time to find one of these. 

 This is impressive. It turns out that you can buy a brand new gearbox filler plug for an old four-speed Royal Enfield Bullet. (I have no connection to the seller.)

The new plug will even come with the historical lubricant requirements engraved in tiny, tiny print on the top of the plug. 

Who cares? Well, consider that the list of obsolete lubricants is just the sort of perfectly evocative vintage touch that makes owning an old Royal Enfield so much fun. 

For instance, motorcyclists never fail to ask me about the odd little lever on the side of the four-speed gearbox. (You won't have one of these if you own a modern motorcycle, or even a Royal Enfield built in the last couple decades.) 

"What's that thing?" they ask, meaning the neutral finder lever, of course. 

Looking closer, they might notice the little filler plug on the gearbox, with its faint suggestions that I top up the gearbox with Essolube or Energol. 

"This thing is really old!" they're likely to conclude.

My Royal Enfield is old, but not THAT old.

Yes, my 1999 Royal Enfield Bullet, built in India, came with the separate four-speed gearbox that requires its own supply of lubricant, delivered through the itsy-bitsy filler plug, just as did ancient Royal Enfields built in England.

Well worn 1959 gearbox plug (foreground) replaced the plain steel plug in my 1999 Royal Enfield Bullet.

But, truth be told, my well-worn gearbox filler plug didn't actually come with my motorcycle. It's much older, probably from the 1959 model year, when it was on an Indian Chief motorcycle (made in the UK by Royal Enfield for the American market).

I wrote about how I got it here.

My made-in-India Bullet originally came with a plain, steel plug. I just liked the vintage look of the old labelled plug, so I subbed it in.

It was the original steel plug that came with my Bullet that I decided was "haunted" after it mysteriously unscrewed itself! I wrote about that here.

An Albion gearbox by another name

"Royal Enfield" brand appeared on some old Albion gearboxes, but not all.

 Royal Enfield's old four-speed Albion gearbox with its iconic neutral finder lever are frequent topics on this blog. A feature of vintage Royal Enfields, including my own 1999 Royal Enfield Bullet, the obsolete gearbox fascinates me. 

But while I've written a lot about its history, much remains that I don't know. One thing that intrigues me is that enthusiasts refer to it as "the Albion," but no where on the exterior of my gearbox do I find the word "Albion." 

It's clear from old advertisements that Royal Enfield referred to the Albion, if at all, as "the Royal Enfield" gearbox. Mostly, the thing appears with no label at all, besides a small coded stamping -- three letters followed by three numbers -- useful to experts who want to determine its age. 

Even though Royal Enfield would tout "its" gearbox in advertisements, the words "Royal Enfield" don't appear on the exterior of my gearbox. 

I had begun to think this was generally the case but, recently, I noticed an Albion gearbox for sale on eBay that was clearly and prominently branded "Royal Enfield." 

Surprised, I wrote to Graham Scarth, probably the best expert at deciphering the age and model of vintage Royal Enfields based on motor, frame and gearbox numbers.

I was in for another surprise: finding "Royal Enfield" on the exterior of a gearbox is not as unusual as I'd thought. Graham was able to identify the eBay gearbox as a 1951 model, and he confirmed the seller's claim that it was meant to fit Royal Enfields that lacked sprung rear suspension.

"It has the neutral finder lever, which was only on post-war gearboxes, and is of type fitted to the Model G and J machines with rigid rear end (he got that bit right) and telescopic forks. As far as I am aware all these boxes had 'Royal Enfield' on the cover, unlike those fitted to the Bullets and twins," Graham replied in an email.

"The gearboxes were indeed made at Albion’s own factory so 'bought in.' The end cover with Royal Enfield on was no doubt at (Royal Enfield's) request (insistence?)."

"Royal Enfield" (picked out in red by the owner) on gearbox of WD/C.

Graham sent a photo of another Royal Enfield that displayed "Royal Enfield" on the gearbox. It is a 350cc WD/C side-valve military Royal Enfield from World War II. The words "Royal Enfield" are at an odd slant on this motorcycle (although perfectly horizontal on the motor). The wartime WD/CO overhead valve military motorcycle also had "Royal Enfield" on the gearbox, but written horizontally.

Pre-war Royal Enfields with Albion gearboxes of those same series also had the name, Graham advised.

Graham couldn't resist a good-natured jab at the sometimes balky "Royal Enfield" gearbox by Albion.

"No idea why the post-war bolt-to-crankcase gearboxes for Bullets and twins don’t have the name on, unless by then Royal Enfield didn’t want anyone to think it was their own handiwork (corny joke !)."

Why Royal Enfield got its neutral finder

A 1947 ad explains why Royal Enfields got a neutral finder.

 There's a very old joke about old Royal Enfield motorcycles: "Royal Enfield is the only motorcycle in the world with a 'neutral finder' lever, and the only motorcycle in the world that needs one."

The joke is about the balky old four-speed Albion gearbox that served Royal Enfield motorcycles up to the introduction of a much slicker five-speed gearbox in the current century.

In 1946 the four-speed got an added heel-operated lever that takes it from any upper gear directly to neutral. The neutral finder lever is a real convenience in the four-speed, and using it forms a basic part of my riding on my 1999 Royal Enfield Bullet.

But how, really, did the neutral finder lever find its way onto the Royal Enfield gearbox?

I about fell out of my chair when I recently came across an eBay ad by Widman Motorcycle Service for a 1947 copy of Motor Cycling magazine. There, on the front cover, was a Royal Enfield ad touting "The Royal Enfield Patent Neutral Finder."

It was patented, alright, but not by Royal Enfield. Albion Engineering, designer (and, I presume maker) of the gearbox used on Royal Enfields had patented the neutral finder device in 1944.

Royal Enfield historian Gordon May fully explains the point of the neutral finder in his on-line article "Finding Neutral." He even reproduces a period advertisement that points out that "This exclusive feature is particularly advantageous to those unfamiliar with foot shifting..."

What does foot shifting have to do with it? Gordon explains:

"In the 1920s and 1930s, nearly all motorcycle gearboxes were operated by a hand change lever that was attached to the side of the petrol tank. This meant that the rider had to take his hand off the throttle and away from the brake lever every time he wanted to change gear – a huge disadvantage. Royal Enfield outsourced its gearbox design and manufacture to Albion, a Birmingham-based engineering firm that met the gearbox needs of many British and European motorcycle manufacturers. Albion positive-stop footchange gearboxes were first fitted to Royal Enfields in 1932 and were a major drawcard for the new, top-of-the-range Bullet models.

"However, their design was an adaptation of their existing hand change gearboxes and although Albion gearboxes were well engineered and hard wearing, they were also quite clunky. When stationary, the foot-operated unit could be tricky to operate and it was often hard to find neutral, especially at the beginning and end of its serviceable life. The neutral selector overcame this issue, simply and cleverly, and was especially convenient for riders who rode frequently in stop-start town or city traffic."

OK, I think I get it: a rider using a hand shift could rattle the lever around until he massaged the gearbox into neutral. But you couldn't do this by stomping on a lever with your foot – until the separate, foot-operated neutral finder lever was added.

What didn't strike me at first was that, well, Royal Enfield could hardly market motorcycles by admitting that the gearbox is so bad you need this extra gizmo to make it work, could they?

The 1946 advertisement I spotted on the front of Motor Cycling magazine shows how they did just that. It states:

"The Royal Enfield Patent Neutral Finder removes the one possible objection to the modern foot operated gear control – the difficulty sometimes experienced in finding neutral."

And so it does! In modern terms, Royal Enfield turned a "bug" into a "feature."

How to replace Royal Enfield clutch cable and get greasy

May as well admit it. My 1999 Royal Enfield left me with greasy hands one day recently and I couldn't be happier.

The occasion was the result of the broken clutch cable I wrote about earlier this year. At the time I simply removed the broken cable and installed the spare cable I carry on the motorcycle. All I needed to clean up from that experience was to wipe my hands with the clean rag I also carry.

But then, checking my supply of spare clutch cables, I realized I was getting low on extras, and decided something must be done.

This is where I was to get really slathered in grease and it took many more than one rag to clean up. The task left me with a big smile, because, I believe, motorcyclists secretly enjoy getting their hands dirty, no matter how many twists and turns it takes to solve a problem.

My first twist came when I thought I'd found the correct replacement clutch cable, advertised from India on eBay. I have never ordered a part from India that actually did fit. Nor have I learned anything, so I went ahead and spent my money. The cable that eventually arrived from India probably fits some Royal Enfield of the past, but not mine, not nearly.

My next plan was to have my broken cable repaired.

This looked easy, since the cable itself was fine. The problem is that the little nipple at one end, the gearbox end, had popped off the cable, the result of holding the clutch through thousands of gear shifts in Florida traffic. If the escaped nipple was replaced, or a matching one attached in its place, the cable would be fine.

I removed the outer gearbox cover of my four-speed Bullet and retrieved the lost nub. I was not surprised to find two loose lost nubs inside the cover. In 40,000 miles, clutch cable nipples on my motorcycle have failed this way repeatedly, at both the gearbox and the lever end.

The local Brit-bike mechanic said he could fix the cable. Come by anytime. So I brought the broken cable and its escaped nub over to his shop. He was out to lunch so I just dropped the package off with his daughter, who was minding the shop, and rode off.

My phone rang as I removed my riding gear at home. He'd never seen a clutch cable like mine, he said. The parts book didn't show it, he said. No way these little nubs could work, he said. It had to be wrong, he said. Bring in the bike so he could see what it should be like, he said.

I tried assuring him that my bike is just like it was when I bought it but quickly realized I should save my breath. He didn't believe me. So I put the helmet back on and went over.

There was much consternation as he insisted that the whole thing was totally wrong. Of course anything made the way my cable was would fail, he said, as the handlebar lever or gearbox clutch arm twisted off the cable ends.

But the motorcycle is exactly like it is and no amount of head scratching would convince steel to change its mind. Given this lever and this gearbox arm, the only cable that could connect them would be the one I had.

So he went ahead and soldered a new nub onto my cable, as I had hoped he might. I helped route the repaired cable into place on my motorcycle, a job that quickly descended into absurdity.

The mechanic lubricated the cable before handing it to me, so it shed super slippery goo as my motions caused the inner cable to saw back and forth in its outer cable. The adjuster at the midpoint of the cable was a virtual Exxon Valdez of oozing slime. The slipperier things got the more I had to push and pull to get the cable through the nest of wires behind the nacelle and into place behind the horn to the gearbox.

Thus my greasy hands, and pants.

The repair works fine, for now. But how long will it hold on before the next failure? That question arose in comments from readers. This came from John Donlon of Illinois:

"I don't like performing any service work on anything until I find out why the repair is needed to start with. If I discover I was the cause then I suck it up and deal with it, which means get out the wallet and my head out of my ass.

"In the case of the clutch cable, here is what I would do:

"No. 1, buy a Barnett clutch cable. They are the industry standard, not some crap from eBay  (with dubious claims of  being factory authorized) or something that 'looks about right'  from someone you not only don't know but carries merchandise of underdetermined origin... KNOW what you are buying.  Your life could and will depend on its performance. Yes, it is that important.

"No. 2, lube the new cable while it is still in the plastic bag. I use Marvel Mystery Oil and I ensure the actual cable in its jacketing sleeve is moving virtually friction-free. Do it before you install it. You can always wipe it off before routing it.

"No. 3, install and route the cable exactly as the factory workshop manual describes. Just because you found the defective cable routed a certain way does not mean it was routed the correct way; and it usually wasn't (seriously).

"No. 4, make your throw-out cable adjustments as the factory workshop manual instructs. 

"No. 5, lubricate the cable periodically as directed by the factory workshop service manual and make adjustments as needed. If it was installed correctly, you probably will never have to adjust.

"Now get to work and sin no more."

Something similar came from Maynard Hershon of Colorado:

"Today's cables are everlasting, I'd say. They are nylon-lined and stainless steel. The ends are swadged on and never come off. Some bikes with 100,000 miles on them are still on original cables. If you have been buying OE cables, get them elsewhere, like Barnett ones or those good ones from the UK. Whatever cables you've been getting are not good enough. And make sure you are not pulling the clutch lever so far that you are stretching the cable itself, not pulling against the clutch springs. I'm not explaining that well, but I hope you see what I mean. 

"And because I came up on old British motorcycles, I NEVER sit at traffic lights in gear with the clutch pulled in. If you did that in the old days, you only had a clutch once or twice. After that, you coasted up to lights because you could not stop. The clutch would not disengage. Your bike was never designed to sit for two or three minutes with the clutch lever pulled to the bar. No one in the old days would have done that."

And then there was this, from Chennai Wrencher:

"If a guy takes a file and rounds the shoulder of the lower nubbie a bit before using it, it can then swing somewhat in the actuator arm, reducing the bending forces on it which cause the fatigue failures. A bit of grease on the nubbie there, and a bit more at the lever end socket cut down on quite a bit of friction. I like the Hitchcocks heavy duty cables, but you do need to pre-fit them to make sure they aren't too tight in the fittings. The better 'feel' alone is worth the cost to me. Cheers!"

That mirrors something Allan Hitchcock of Hitchcocks Motorcycles mentioned in his email to me, where he tipped me off to the replacement cable I need:

"I have attached a photo of the end of our cable. There is the top hat outer cable ferrule which locates in the case of the gearbox (the originals had a crude domed ferrule). This looks to have a bigger diameter shoulder to the ones in your photo, which will prevent it pulling through.

The Hitchcocks Motorcycles clutch cable looks right.

"The nipple can be a plain barrel or have the extra nib, but should have a radiused end to locate in the lever at the gearbox lever as on our photo.

"However, one discrepancy we have found between the gearbox levers is the diameter where the extra nib would locate; some will fit straight in where other levers would need opening out."

Sounds as though I will be getting my hands messy again soon.

Old Royal Enfield part ordered on eBay didn't fit

It's nobody's fault but mine, but I got the wrong part when I ordered a replacement clutch cable on eBay from India for my 1999 Royal Enfield Bullet 500.

I wasn't careful.

Back when my motorcycle was new I always ordered replacement parts from Classic Motor Works, the U.S. importer, based in Minnesota. Sometimes I would get the wrong part, but it was always replaced with the correct one at no cost to me.

Thankfully, I had still have a few spare cables and oil filters I ordered from Classic back then.

It's a good thing, because, sometime after the new United Constructed Motor came along, in 2009, Royal Enfield India itself took over distribution in the U.S. The corporation had to line up a new dealership network and, naturally, interest in carrying parts for the old iron-barrel Bullets (which was nothing like they now had on the showroom floors) wasn't central.

Fortunately there are excellent parts suppliers filling the gap for the old stuff and at least one of them, Hitchcocks Motorcycles in the UK, even has the old parts books online.

I first gave Tim Hirdler a try at Western Cycle Supply in the U.S. Tim worked at Classic Motor Works and is a Royal Enfield parts wizard.

Unfortunately, they were out of stock on the clutch cable I need. Tim promised to seek a supplier and let me know when it came in.

I can use one of my spare cables until then. But the ever present temptation of trying eBay in the meantime drew me in. For one thing, Royal Enfield parts from India are generally not expensive.

On the other hand, I knew this was risky. All I would have to go on was the photo in the eBay ad. Almost no other information (such as the length of the cable for sale) usually appears in these ads. Return policies are typically unforgiving.

I had an added problem. My Bullet carries a sticker that gives its build date as June, 1999. That is a critical date, for parts. It makes my motorcycle an "early 1999." Different parts, including new handlebar controls (and thus, I presume, specific new clutch cables) were fitted starting with July, 1999.

The ends of the clutch cable I need (gearbox end is at top).

It was my understanding that my Bullet has the pre-July, 1999 Magura controls. So, when I saw the eBay ad for "Magura Type Levers Spare Clutch Cable Fits Royal Enfield Early Models," I figured I'd found what I needed for sale in Ghaziabad, Uttar Pradesh, India.

Except for this: the photo in the ad looked nothing like the broken clutch cable I'd just taken off my bike. There was no mention of how long the cable might be, but it was clear that the little nubbins on the ends of the cable, that hold it in place on the motorcycle, were quite different than mine.

"Please refer to the pictures above before finalising your purchase," the ad advised.

I looked at the photo in the ad, but to misquote Paul Simon, "a man sees what he wants to see, and disregards the rest."

I assumed the photo, rather than my wishful thinking, was to blame for any discrepancy.

The ends of the clutch cable I got on eBay.

The cable that arrived from India is described on the bag label as "O.E. part No. 1455408/B." The inner cable is 52 1/2 inches long (two inches shorter than I need). The outer cable is 49 5/8 inches long.

The eBay seller in India is not to blame for my wishful thinking. They offered to refund my money if I shipped the cable back to them, but the cost of shipping would wipe out my refund, so I didn't bother. 

I turned to the parts books at Hitchcocks and found "Part No. 142543 Cable, Clutch, Magura Levers (Before 06/99), Indian Made."

The drawing in the Hitchcocks part book, and the photo in their catalog, showed a cable just like the eBay item from Ghaziabad.

In fact, nowhere in the Hitchcocks parts book and catalog could I find a drawing or photo that looks at all like the cable that fits my Bullet.

I wish I had done at first what I then did next: I emailed Hitchcock's Motorcycles at info@hitchcocksmotorcycles.com with a photo of the cable I need, and got a response immediately from Allan Hitchcock himself.

"Part 142543A should be the cable you need," he wrote. He attached a link to the very cable I need, described in its "fitting guide" as for Indian made export Royal Enfield Bullets from 1989-1999.

There it was: the word "export" and the letter "A" added to the part number: 142543A! The photo showed it appears to be just what I need.

Why couldn't I find it earlier? I don't know.

Why would the "export" bikes use a different cable than home-market Bullets of the same year? I don't know.

Hitchcocks even lists an extra-long (five inches longer) version of the clutch cable. I like this because it's long enough to wrap around the nacelle instead of bothering to fish it through. Very handy when trying to replace a clutch cable roadside, in the dark. It's Part No. 142543L.

Your clutch cable suddenly snaps; do you carry a spare?

My clutch cable always breaks at one end or the other, when the nub pulls off the strands.

There was no warning.

I was shifting gears the other day when the clutch lever on my Royal Enfield Bullet suddenly slapped all the way to the hand grip. Despite my deathgrip on the clutch lever, the clutch was not operating.

I did the natural thing — I panicked.

Clearly I now had no control over the clutch, but what else might be broken or about to break?

I don't remember what gear I was in, or whether I was in the gear I was shifting from or the one I meant to shift into.

Either way, I was still moving along the street, so I just kept going, letting the motorcycle gradually slow. But how could I come to a stop?

I'd never thought about what I would do in this situation: the motorcycle is running and it is in gear. I'm not sure which gear. If I turn off the motor the stop might be very sudden; would the rear wheel skid?

The neutral finder lever might offer some help, but using it without the clutch usually provokes bad noises. I didn't want to risk causing damage.

The only alternative seemed to be to apply the brakes and deliberately stall the motor.

Letting the motorcycle slow as much as possible on its own first, I gently applied brakes and I switched off the motor just as we came to a stop. There was barely a "bump" from the drivetrain to show the motorcycle's displeasure with this treatment. Whew.

I'd aimed for a shady spot on the sidewalk where I could change the broken clutch cable &#8212 it was a hot day in Florida.

Luckily, I knew I had a spare clutch cable in the Bullet's toolbox. This practice has saved me many times. I've changed clutch cables roadside often — once in the dark — but I don't do it often enough to recall immediately how it's done.

I was delighted to discover that the spare cable I had in the toolbox was one of the extra long versions Classic Motorworks used to sell for Bullets, probably for use with taller than stock handlebars. These are ideal for fast repairs since they can be routed around the casquette instead of having to be carefully threaded through the nest of wires behind the headlight.

Here is the extra long spare clutch cable routed over the casquette into the lever.
The original cable, now detached, emerges from its hole in the nacelle.

Replacing the cable is easy at the gearbox end, thanks to a little circular cover that swings open to reveal the gearbox-end connection to the cable.

Since my clutch cable looked good at the handlebar lever, I knew it would be broken at the gearbox end — sure enough, the little nub that holds it in place there had popped off.

All I had to do was to disconnect the clutch cable from the lever on the handlebar, pull it out of the back of the gearbox, and replace it with my spare cable. (The hardest part of this was getting the outer cable end out of the gearbox; it took a lot of wiggling and pulling.)

But which end of the spare cable was which? It turns out that they aren't identical, at least on my 1999 Bullet. The gearbox end is fatter. Just examine the old cable to see how the cable fits and is routed.

One lesson I learned at once: it is far easier to FIRST attach the new cable at the gearbox end and THEN attach it to handlebar end. It's the difference between squatting on your haunches staring into a little black hole to see what's going on and standing in the sunshine alongside your bike getting the length of the inner cable extended enough to attach.

You definitely want to do the fiddly part of this standing up.

Once in place you'll need to adjust the cable to make the clutch operate. This is best done by first using the adjuster fitting at the midpoint of the cable to give you a reasonable amount of cable at the lever and then doing the fine adjusting with the adjuster at the handlebar.

You want the cable attached at the clutch lever just loosely enough that the clutch is not pulled by movement of the handlebars. I was back on the road in no time.

One final thing: I was really happy to have a clean rag in the toolbox to wipe the grease off my hands after fiddling with the old cable.

Convert gearbox to get Royal Enfield shifting right

Owner wanted original-quality shifting so he bought an original gearbox for parts.

Since 1995, when Royal Enfield Bullets were imported to the United States, it has been an Act of Faith that owners of four-speed, left-shift Bullets ought to convert them to shift on the right.

The Bullet was intended to shift on the right, when designed in England in the 1940s, and had been built that way in India ever since, until the introduction of the five-speed gearbox.

The left-shift "bodge" required for the U.S. is blamed for introducing slop, false neutrals, and inauthenticity. Sometime in 2004 the new five-speed gearbox, designed from the start to shift on the left, brought relief to Bullet riders everywhere.

But let's say you have an older U.S. Bullet, and want better shifting.

You could do as I have, and just make the left-side bodge work as good as it can.

Or, you could purchase and install a kit to convert the Bullet back to right-shifting. (This is not for beginners.)

Or, it turns out, you could purchase an entire old Albion gearbox built from the start to shift on the right, and harvest its parts to convert your Bullet to right shifting.

And that is exactly what Mitch Smith, of California, did for his 1999 Royal Enfield Bullet. He was kind enough to explain how he did it. (He calls his formerly red Bullet "Krasny Oktobr" — Russian for Red October — after the fictional submarine).

"I got tired of the mystery-slop shift linkage on my '99 Bullet Red October. Hitchcocks had a used trans for about $250, so I had them ship it over along with a $25 chrome brake pedal and brake pivot stud. Shipping was about $100. The regular right-hand shift conversion kit is about $340-ish plus maybe $30 for shipping.

"So for about the same money I now have the shift conversion plus a transmission case and gears to muck about with. The transit time was supposed to be about 8-10 days, but it was at my door four days later. I guess maybe DHL has an old SR-71 Blackbird and a retired Air National Guard pilot on the payroll?

"The sale transmission supplied all the shifter bits I was needing to take Krasny Oktobr back to right-hand shift. A new brake stud fitted up to my frame with no problem, so now Red October sports a spiffy chrome brake lever on the left side, as is only proper. I removed about 10 pounds of iron shafts and linkages of the factory bodge. Maybe I'll try a little shift plate adjustment tomorrow, but it's pretty good for being thrown together.

Taking only parts leaves most of the donor gearbox to play around with.

"Pretty straightforward stuff. All the pix are post-event as my hands were quite black and greasy for the entire process.

"The muffler and header have to come off, as does the kickstart lever and shift lever. All work was performed whilst on the center stand.

"The brake bits extract from the right, eventually. The stud threaded right into the factory tapped hole on the frame; there is a lock nut applied to the backside. Vice grips were invaluable.

"I ordered extra stainless nuts as the thread is that peculiar Brit motorcycle pitch. Anti-seize and grease. The angled Zerk from the old brake fit right in.

"The shift bodge has a subframe section that also supports/guides the footpegs and retains the shift bodge. It's retained by two bolts: the footpeg hex stud and another rear cross-frame stud that looks to be involved with the centerstand.

"The left footpeg is removed and the hex bar drifts back with some persuasion from a wood block to clear the sub frame. The rear bolt has nuts on both sides; loosen and the sub frame pivots down. I separated the linkage behind the bodge shift lever, and after the sub pivoted down that part came out.

"The shifter crossbar is harder. Loosen the shift arm linkage bolt and now attack the actual shifter. Pull the outer cover and hardware. A manual is highly advised unless you are already painfully familiar with the guts of it.

"When you get all five of the inner cover retaining screws out (don't overlook the countersunk flathead!), remove the circlip from the shift shaft and the inner cover comes off. There are two shouldered bolts on the back side of the trans that block the shift shaft from sliding out — remove these. The link arm near the sprocket can now be worked loose as the shaft is pulled out from the right side. Put your shoulder bolts back in and re-tighten.

"The shift mechanism bits from the donor cover can now be fitted in place. Use the manual to confirm what you think you know. I had to reuse my existing kickstart shaft as the donor one's bushing was hinky. Any trans oil leakage will be from either around the kickstart shaft or through the layshaft bearing. The kickstart has a nifty O-ring, as does the cap on the bearing. I've never had much issue with running oil in the trans but many others have. Since the kickstart shaft is lower in the case, I'd make sure it's O-ring is a good one.

"Hoo Hoo Hoblin has posted an excellent how-to-video on YouTube about this.


"Anyway, I did it (mostly) with used junk and it works.

"I put about two miles up and down my rural 300-foot driveway today working on the mental changeover gymnastics for right-hand shift, left-hand brake mode. The basic shift operation is dramatically improved; it feels like you are actually operating the shifting mechanism instead of just sending a hopeful suggestion somewhere.

"The ancient strategy of holding the shifter engaged whilst releasing the clutch works well. I'm trying real hard not to entertain the other drivers by downshifting the brake on a hill or upshifting to fourth gear in a corner instead of applying the rear brake.

"Note to self: It's now ONE UP, THREE DOWN... on the RIGHT."

Was tiny writing a big plug for Royal Enfield quality?

Gearbox filler plug on my Royal Enfield Bullet now specifies brands of oil.

Royal Enfield enthusiast Chris Overton of Canada came to the rescue when I enthused about about an interesting gearbox oil filler plug I spotted on an old Albion four-speed for sale on eBay.

I was captivated by the tiny writing on the plug (it's really just a stubby bolt). The stamped writing lists the oil recommendations for the gearbox: Castol, Mobiloil, Shell, Essolube and Energol.

They're great old names that tie the Royal Enfield motorcycle to its ancestral home in England. In contrast, there's a plain plug in the gearbox of my 1999 built-in-India Bullet.

Chris apparently has extras and offered to send me one. I begged him not to strip one from a gearbox he hopes to sell one day — to me, the writing on the filler plug is the best feature since the neutral finder. And I wasn't looking for a plug in concours condition.

1959 plug (foreground) and the plain plug
from my 1999 Royal Enfield Bullet.

Chris not only found the ideal plug, he supplied its history:

"The plug I selected came from the remains of gearbox AM247, probably fitted to a bike in the last quarter of 1958 for the 1959 model year.  Probably fitted to an Indian Chief but might have been an Indian Apache. There were 800 Chiefs built and 83 Apaches, so this has a rare pedigree (albeit an identical part to the thousands fitted to other Enfields)."

The battered little plug testifies to a long, busy life. But there were more surprises: for one, it weighs much less than my existing steel plug.

"This plug is alloy so, at 7 grams, it is serious 'go fast' stuff," Chris joked.

And one more thing.

Note the tiny hole in the bolt head (at bottom). Almost invisible.
It intersects with larger hole drilled in from base of the bolt.

Chris had modified the plug by drilling two intersecting holes: a nearly invisible one into the side of the head and a larger hole, drilled up from the bottom.

The "wee holes" combine to ventilate the gearbox. 

"The vent is to relieve pressure differences created inside the gearbox by temperature changes, and will reduce oil leakage to the extent it is created by pressure," Chris wrote.

Look closely and you'll see light showing in the tiny hole.
The two drillings intersect to vent to the gearbox.

Royal Enfield guru Tim from New Zealand recommended the modification on the Yahoo forum. It requires close work with a good drill; I could never have gotten it right.

Will it work? Hard to say, as my gearbox doesn't visibly leak enough for it to be noticed among the oil leaks from elsewhere on the bike! But I'm happy to have the vent, as a talking point.

And — as a talking point — what ELSE could have been Royal Enfield's purpose in labeling the oil filler plug back in the day?

Did it really matter so much (especially after the sale) what the owner chose to put in his gearbox?

My suspicion is that the tiny writing was added to impress the fastidious potential buyer looking over a Royal Enfield at the dealership.

If the company had been so particular about the gearbox lubricant as to label the plug, certainly the rest of the motorcycle must be nigh on perfect.

Royal Enfield's old Albion gearbox tells a story

Royal Enfield four-speed gearboxes, separated by 40-plus years.
My 1999 made-in-India left-shift gearbox is at right.

I've only just praised the obsolete Royal Enfield four-speed gearbox on my 1999 Royal Enfield Bullet, and along comes an eBay advertisement for a similar but obviously far older example of the same thing.

And, my, doesn't it look familiar?

There are differences. The older one is right-hand shift, of course, as most were. Only where legally required were they made to shift left, as is mine.

Note oil filler plug at top right of gearbox. Mine has one there, but...

But, wow, get a load of the bolt that covers the top oil filler hole. Stamped on it — in oh, so tiny type — are the oil specifications for the gearbox.

Castrol, Mobiloil, Shell, Essolube, Energol. Great old names that mark this gearbox as a product of Redditch, England.

...the older gearbox filler plug is labelled.

The poor filler plug is a bit bunged up but I would love to have it. The filler plug on my made-in-India gearbox is plain.

I'm a little surprised that the filler plug specifies oil.

My understanding was that gearboxes back then were filled with grease from the factory, as there was no proper seal on the sprocket side to retain oil.

My 1999 gearbox came from India filled with what some used to refer to as "elephant snot." That stuff stayed put.

When I tried using oil the gearbox it soon bathed everything behind it in oil. At a sprocket change my mechanic fit a seal, and oil has worked fine for me ever since.

Canadian Royal Enfield enthusiast Chris Overton kindly identified the old gearbox, based in its serial number, as being from a 1965 Series 1 Interceptor.

I wonder what stories this eBay gearbox could tell of its travels.

In praise of the Neutral Finder on four-speed Royal Enfields

Great idea: The neutral finder lever on the Royal Enfield Albion four-speed gearbox.

I've endlessly criticized the Royal Enfield four-speed gearbox for the awkward linkage used to transfer shifting to the left side of the motorcycle to suit U.S. regulations.

The five-speed gearbox on newer Royal Enfields eliminates the problem — it was designed from the start to shift on the left, as the world now expects of motorcycles. End of problem.

But my Royal Enfield's obsolete four-speed Albion box has something the Royal Enfield five-speed never got: the neutral finder.

Prod this extra lever on the gearbox with your heel and the old Albion instantly goes from any upper gear to neutral. No downshifting through the gears.

Even better, I think, is how the neutral finder helps you when you stop at an intersection and find you're left in first gear.

There's no weary waiting through the signal light cycle with your hand gripping the clutch lever. Just reach down and with your finger pull UP on the neutral finder.

It pops right into neutral! Now you can relax until the light changes. Saves the clutch, saves the clutch cables and saves your wrist.

In fact, rather than hunt for neutral from first when approaching a stop I will shift UP into second gear and then hit the neutral finder to let the motorcycle coast to a stop. Works every time.

N-1 means you CAN get neutral from first gear.
Here's how: Just hold the neutral finder down with your heel
as you press the gearshift lever toward second gear with your toe.

Or, for the better coordinated, here's an even cuter first-gear-to-neutral trick from Guru Nandan:

"...All you have to do is to HOLD it there, with your heel, and press the gear-lever with your toe towards the second gear, whence the neutral-finder acts as the stop and stops it in neutral! Try it!!"

Unlike many other aspects of vintage Royal Enfields, the neutral finder is absolutely reliable. 

Like most other aspects of vintage Royal Enfields, the neutral finder is a pleasant talking point when people rave about your "antique" motorcycle. "Did you restore it yourself?"

Patented neutral finder was a post-war selling point for Royal Enfield.

The neutral finder was a selling point for Royal Enfield, back in the day. Most vintage Royal Enfield models since the Model G seem to have the feature. (It wasn't used on less-expensive models.)

The snide commented at the time that the Royal Enfield "is the only motorcycle in the world with a neutral finder, and the only one that needs one." Funny, but hardly fair.

The neutral finder on my 1999 Royal Enfield Bullet is completely integrated into my motorcycling. I don't know how I would do without it.

Yes, I've ridden motorcycles, including new Royal Enfields, that must be shifted through the gears when coming to a stop. You just do it (don't forget!). No big deal.

But how nice not to have to bother dancing on the shift lever at every stop.

Another way to improve shifting of Royal Enfield Bullet

The left-shift linkage of my 1999 four-speed Royal Enfield Bullet.
Note the hole at bottom for bushing that holds it to the gearshift arm.

I've crowed about how wonderfully my 1999 Royal Enfield Bullet now shifts, with its custom massaged (by me) left-shift linkage.

The four-speed Albion gearbox, designed to shift on the right side of the motorcycle, shifts on the left in the U.S. thanks to a cross-motorcycle shaft that ends in a crude set of linkage arms held together by bushings and cotter pins. This bodge carries the shifting action behind the primary drive cases to the left-side gearshift.

I replaced the worn nylon bushings with metal bushings and filed away at the motorcycle and the linkage arms until the shifting action was free of interference. It now works great.

But the truth is, I could do even more to improve things, if I had any energy left (I don't).

That's because one of the linkage arms has a nasty twist in it, right at the end, where the bushing rides.

...side view shows a bend right where the bushing fits into hole.

This means that every time I move my foot to shift, this bent arm gives the whole mechanism a punishing off-center twist that must contribute to wear. Eventually, I am sure, it contributes to general looseness and sloppiness in the shifting.

My guess is that somebody at the factory gave the thing a swat with a big hammer in an attempt to get the mechanism to work at all given all the interference it originally encountered when it moved.

I tried to straighten the twist, heating it first with a blowtorch. But nothing I did was sufficient to straighten this crude bit of metal.

All that said, I say, nevermind for now. It works — finally. And I want to go riding.

How I made my left-shift Royal Enfield 4-speed shift right

The suspense is over. Finally, here is my report on my first test ride after extensive efforts to improve the shifting of my 1999 Royal Enfield Bullet:

It worked! Shifting is better than ever before. My four-speed Royal Enfield with left-side shift linkage now moves cleanly between gears and even downshifts without missing gears.

There's a good reason for my delay in writing, and it felt like this:

"CLUNK!"

Of course you couldn't really hear the clunk while riding, but that is what it felt like, a real disappointment after my initial efforts to improve things. If you've forgotten where this started, way back in December, here's a link to Part 1 of my campaign to improve shifting action.

Now, pulling over and inserting my head beneath the motorcycle I saw that the left-shift linkage I'd tried so hard to rebuild and improve was striking the frame of the motorcycle as it reached to activate second gear.

Not always: sometimes the linkage made it to second gear and, when it did, everything was wonderful. I could even downshift reliably.

That had been my goal. The linkage had been loose and wobbly and I had straightened and tightened it and removed places where it bumped into other bits of the motorcycle. It should now be near perfect and, yet, every so often:

"CLUNK!" And it got stuck with only first gear and neutral available.

With my head under the motorcycle I could see the the linkage wasn't just brushing the frame. It was ramming it.

Arrow points to linkage arm contact on motorcycle frame.

All I could think was that, in straightening and tightening the linkage, I had increased its reach as it moved, and eliminated the wobble that would have forgiven any impact. So now it sometimes hit the frame when it moved.

The obvious solution seemed to be to rotate the linkage slightly clockwise where it attaches to the shaft that carries shifting from the gearbox, on the right, to the left side of the motorcycle.

I tried. I couldn't do it. The upper arm of the linkage contacts something (the front sprocket?) that prevents it from being relocated. (Remember, the linkage is so hidden behind the primary drive cases that most adjustments must be done by feel or by removing the linkage entirely — I couldn't see what was blocking me.)

Let me tell you, ladies and gentlemen, as far as this linkage goes, there is very little extra room in the original design of the motorcycle — designed to shift on the right — for this added bit of mechanical mayhem to move shifting to the left.

Linkage arm hits the frame at this point (arrow).

So I resolved to just very gently remove some of the metal from the ends of the linkage arms at the point where they hit the frame. Too much, I thought, might weaken them since the impact must be happening very near the holes for the bushing that holds the damn thing together.

Linkage arm smoothed (at arrow) to eliminate contact point.
(I also filed down the flange of the brass bushing to prevent it contacting frame.)

In the end, I could safely file off just a little metal. But it worked.

Thank goodness. I am delighted.

Here's my prescription, with explanatory links, for fixing the left-shift linkage of four-speed Royal Enfield Bullets:

1. Tighten up the gearshift lever.
2. Replace nylon linkage bushings with metal bushings.
3. Tighten linkage attachment to the gearbox shaft.
4. Eliminate interference with the linkage movement.

Fixing Royal Enfield left-shift linkage interference

Tell-tale scrape marks show linkage arm is scraping something.

Part 4

Weeks ago I confidently began fiddling with the left-shift gearbox linkage of my 1999 four-speed Royal Enfield Bullet, thinking that tightening it up would eliminate enough slop to improve shifting.

I was naive.

Eventually I began to suspect that my efforts to make the shifting "more direct" must be causing the linkage to foul protrusions along its nearly invisible path behind the massive Bullet primary drive cases.

Could it be that the very sloppiness I eliminated in the linkage had been a necessity, allowing the assembly to wobble around these unseen hazards?

Incredibly, is the crudely made U.S. spec left-side shift linkage in fact so bad it's good? Could it be that the looseness in the linkage isn't a bug, but a feature?

I began to dread the test ride after each "improvement" I made. Invariably, shifting action got worse, not better, even as the linkage became tighter.

The proof, I knew, would be on the linkage itself, in scratches along its arms inflicted by contact with other parts of the Bullet.

But this gave me hope, too: the linkage was working. It was only just scraping the other parts in its path.

Perhaps just filing away a bit of metal would restore full clearance. A miss, even by a millimeter, would be as good as a mile, I thought.

I was naive. It took a lot more than a little filing.

With linkage removed it's clear that big fat nut scrapes the linkage arm. 

After once more fishing the linkage assembly out from behind the primary drive cases I pulled out my magnifying glass. I saw scrapes on the inside of the center linkage arm that could only have been caused by the big nut on the lower gearbox stud.

I removed the nut and replaced it with a thinner nut, but the end of the stud itself still protruded. There was no removing the stud without disassembling the motorcycle. But I was able to pull it farther to the right — away from the linkage on the left —  by cutting a flexible washer and slipping it in on the right, under the head of the stud.

Thinner nut replaces the fat nut. Flexible split washer slips under head of stud on right.

I was now reasonably sure the linkage would clear the nut. But, just to be certain, I filed away at the side of the center linkage arm itself, polishing away the scrape marks. I didn't remove much metal, but hopefully that little bit would also add to clearance.

No doubt it did. But I was now in for a surprise.

Linkage replaced. Arm pivot pin now scrapes nub of metal on center stand.

With the linkage free to swing more to the right the lower pivot pin that holds it together now violently collided with a protruding bit of the center stand.

It was apparent that the more I worked to eliminate one interference, the more the linkage was freed to foul the other!

Grinding away part of protruding nub on center stand.

The interference was so bad that I had to purchase a grinding wheel to reduce the nub on the center stand.

Success at last? The first test ride will tell. Meanwhile, if you'd like to read the whole saga of how I got to this point, here's where to start:

Part 1: Fixing left-side shifter on four-speed Royal Enfields

How to: A homemade chain guard for my Royal Enfield

Bolt shows damage from the drive chain of my Royal Enfield Bullet.

With my new and (hopefully) improved shift linkage now in place, all that remained was to go for a test ride on my 1999 four-speed Royal Enfield Bullet.

There was one last thing that still bothered me. It's the bolt that pinches the linkage to the shaft that carries the shifting action from the left-side gearshift to the gearbox on the right.

Examining it, it's apparent that this bolt gets worn down by the drive chain.

Lower run of the drive chain touches the bolt when bike is on its center stand

As best I can see, the lower run of the chain hits the bolt only when the motorcycle is on its center stand. So this should not be much of an issue while running; but the wear on the bolt is quite obvious.

One does turn the rear wheel with the bike on the stand during maintenance tasks. The chain moves along as the wheel turns. The contact isn't good for the bolt and can't be good for the chain.

I determined to put some sort of shield over the bolt to nudge the chain up and away. The washer and bolt I'd fitted to the center of the shaft would hold this cover on. But what would make a good shield? I considered using the bottom of a tin can.

Could this help? Bit of plastic chain guard found in a gutter!

Then, on a stroll with my wife, I noticed a piece of black plastic in the gutter. It looked like part of a chain guard for a motorcycle or scooter. It wasn't much good for its original purpose anymore, as it had been run over and flattened by a car. But its shape and flexibility were perfect for me.

I cut it down, drilled a hole for the bolt that would hold it on, and fit it on. With the motorcycle on its center stand the chain was now lifted clear of the pincher bolt.

Scrap plastic chain guard cut down and fitted with a bolt.

My homemade cover from the gutter may not last very long. But, at the price, it's probably still a bargain.

With cover in place, pincher bolt is protected.