By P.J. JohnsonBy P.J. Johnson
A shift in circumstance led to the opportunity of a lifetime for one retired vintage racer—namely me—and real estate broker and vintage racer Bob Bryson.
Yoshi Kosaka’s third-annual Corsa MotoClassica at California’s Willow Springs was looking as though it would go off for the first time without any GP-level machinery on hand. Fortunately, Jeff Elghanyan agreed on short notice to bring his Grand Prix-winning MV Agusta 350cc and 500cc motorcycles for parade laps during the noontime break.
I learned of my opportunity in a phone conversation with Todd Milar, the crew chief for these bikes. I was to ride the latest-issue four-cylinder 350 on each of the three days the event was held. Early the next morning on a plane to LAX, I was all chills, smiles and sweats as I imagined that in just a couple of hours I would sit down on one of the most developed racing bikes in all of four-stroke history.
Upon arrival in the pit I found Todd busily working on the two bikes, and was told neither mount had been ridden at all in over 10 years. The 350 still had the original tires from 1976, hard as ceramic. Todd smiled and said that if they ever got warmed up they might make sparks. In addition, the 350’s rear brake was non-functional and the front was so spongy and leaky that only three laps at a time were possible before the master cylinder needed refilling. To be on the safe side, we put a 12,000 rpm limit on the 16,400-rpm engine for the first few times out.
With all these limiting factors in mind, I put my 6-foot, 4-inch, 200-pound self in the saddle. To my surprise I could get into a crouch without my knees tangling the fairing or my helmet hitting the windscreen. It was actually quite comfortable, and I thought, How tall is Bonera, Read or Agostini?
After instruction that the shift pattern for the right-side gear lever was one up and five more down, it was time to fire it up in the pits. A good bit of speed from two pushers and I braced myself for nothing as the clutch was released. Instantly the paddock was awash with a screaming wail. Back in with the clutch to keep the engine running, I found blips to the throttle rose and fell so quickly the engine would climb to 10,000 rpm and fall to below 4,000 twice in a second—not much flywheel in this engine.
At the end of the pit road the steering lock limits required a hitch to my U-turn. A 10,000-rpm clutch slip was needed to get things going. Wow! Another turn at the other end and an easy sense came over me that this bike was going to be user friendly, at this speed anyway.
Conceived in 1968, just two years before Count Domenico’s death, the new four-cylinder was a concession to the need for more horsepower to stave off the two-stroke threat from Japan. The 350 is the final developed version of the transverse four-cylinder, a 54mm x 38mm, gear-driven DOHC 16-valve engine with the cylinders canted 10 degrees forward. Fuel is fed (depending on the track) by 28mm Dell’Ortos. The heads are topped by 25-degree intake and 30-degree exhaust valves, an improvement over earlier designs.
That huge container below the engine which showed itself to all spectators at the outside of any corner as unmistakably MV is essentially a cast-in oil tank to a dry sump lubricated engine. An oil cooler is housed behind the vented front number plate. Originally eight speeds, the gearbox was limited to six by FIM rules by grid time in September 1971.
A tubular duplex cradle space-frame holds the engine, and an unusual semi-horizontal dividing line to the upper and lower crankcase halves encase the crankshaft. Nothing is mentioned of the upper half of the crankcase, but from all sketches it appears the barrels and the top half of the cases are one piece!
Ceriani adjustable-dampening roadrace forks and rear shocks provide suspension. Lockheed front and Scarab rear calipers slow the cast iron discs. Kroeber electronic ignition was fitted from 1975 on as an update to this bike, powered by a 12-volt total-loss battery. The 350 has a 52-inch wheelbase and weighs in at 304 pounds. Tires are treaded Michelin 100/80-18 front and 110/80-18 rear.
Bob Bryson was to rider the 1969 500cc three-cylinder so favored by Giacomo Agostini and Phil Read during an awesome string of wins up to and including 1974. We decided to send the bigger machine out first on our maiden voyage, and I would follow a few hundred yards later.
We were held in the pre-grid pit lane for a surprisingly long period, revving the engines and allowing close-up listening and photo taking. When at last Bob was given the green light I was left alone long enough to realize that nearly two-thirds of the total exhaust volume was contributed by the higher-revving 350.
Johnson with Jeff Elghanyan
(right), owner of the MVs
When finally flagged away, the little MV pulled smartly from 10,000 revs until the clutch hooked up fully, then a quick shift into second for nearly a 1,500-rpm drop and an astonishingly strong pull quickly back up to 10K again.
Turn one out of pit road was carefully taken and another shift to 10K in third. Then a really early braking point was executed to set up a cautious line for the long sweeping right-hander of turn two. My hair stood on end (if that’s possible under a helmet) as the front brake lever went mushily all the way back to the bar. The brake did slow the bike enough to get through the turn without panic, but this set the tone for all the laps to come during a half-dozen outings this weekend.
I soon learned another trait of this powerful little motor is that it’s either on or off, and doesn’t easily want to maintain speed under light loading, particularly at lower revs. After turn five the fun part began, for now there was enough room to run through the gears and to really make some sound reminiscent of the days of MV glory. Using a redline of 12,000, however, the bike was grossly undergeared for Willow, even with the "overdrive" ratios of fifth and sixth gears.
Little drive was used toward turn nine so that the lower range in third would set up a run through the gears past the stands and the fans at the start/finish line. For the first few laps the start/finish line was used as the braking point. Admittedly an overcautious choice, but I was not about to get frisky with a long silent, nearly half-million-dollar example of the pinnacle in Italian two-wheeled racing history.
Another couple of laps were done in similar fashion, and back in the pit a quick check of the front master cylinder revealed that the next stroke would begin to suck air. Yoshi informed us he would like two sessions each day, if we would please. We would indeed! All further outings would be two laps only, which suited the brake reservoir and my outlook just fine.
During the prep for Saturday’s noon outing, Todd and I discussed raising the redline to 13,000 revs and later bumping it up to 14,000. It became apparent as time went on that this was where the little crimson scream machine really did shine. It also became obvious that with a true 16,400 rev limit the bike wouldn’t be undergeared for this track by any means.
After such a long sleep for this machine it was remarkable that the teething problems were no bigger. Applause to Todd Milar, who had just a few short days to sort both machines in his shop, with no test room to be found anywhere. An even bigger thank-you goes to Jeff Elghanyan for his gift of the sights and sounds of these great motorcycles, even in less-than-ideal circumstances. I have no doubt the next time these great mounts appear in public they will be well sorted.
As for Bob and me, we are under no illusion that this ride was anything more than a magical twist of fate. Our response to Jeff and Todd can only echo the words of a racer who came all the way from Japan to ride at this event. Kazuhiko Yamazaki, editor-in-chief of the Japanese Riders Club magazine, came up to me after one of the parade sessions, put a hand on my shoulder and said, "Thank you for the music."