Dancing the Polka

Each month, I set aside £100 toward the eventual purchase of a new (or, more likely, new-to-me) motorcycle. Having burned up all my savings last autumn in purchasing an 18-year-old Volkswagen Touran (it’s like a Volkswagen Golf but uglier), I find myself at present with just £600 to play with. It’s probably going to be quite a while before I’m able to buy a bike that suits my tastes (my heart still pines for the Harley-Davidson Street Bob, after all) but that doesn’t stop me from looking.

This month, the most interesting bike I’ve found is a Triumph Trident. No, not the somewhat underwhelming 660cc machine that was unveiled in the height of the pandemic, but the 885cc top heavy and lumbering machine that marked Triumph’s return to the motorcycling world more than three decades ago.

WHAT THE AD SAYS:

“TRIUMPH TRIDENT: This bike has been garaged for 5 years. Will need some TLC to get it back on the road – carbs will need cleaning, brakes freeing up and fluids replacing etc. The rear brake especially will need rebuilding as it has stopped working. The bike comes with a fully charged battery. V5 present, and folder of documentation available. You will need to collect with a van or trailer… not in a ride-away condition I’m afraid.“

WHAT IS IT?

The Triumph Trident 900 was first launched in 1991, alongside the identical-in-every-way-but-capacity Triumph Trident 750 and a handful of other models aimed at relaunching the Triumph name after a tumultuous few decades.

You’re probably aware of the terrible reputation Triumph earned itself in the 1960s and ’70s. I have told the story before of my father-in-law owning a Bonneville in the early 1970s; he loved the bike but had to replace parts so frequently that he could not afford to keep it. Ultimately, mismanagement, increasingly shoddy products and the classic motoring tale of failing to take the Japanese seriously led to Triumph declaring bankruptcy in 1983.

The name and manufacturing rights were bought by real estate magnate John Bloor who – quite surprisingly, considering how these sorts of stories usually go – spent millions of pounds and roughly seven years developing an entirely new line-up and direction for the company.

The Trident 900 was developed alongside the Daytona sportbike and Sprint sport tourer – all sharing the same powerplant – and was targeted at the “standard” segment of the market. These days we’d call it a naked. Driven by a 885cc three-cylinder engine, the Trident 900 claimed 100 horsepower, which was a hefty amount of go in the ’90s, and roughly 59 lb-ft of torque. It was a portly beast, weighing in at 239 kilograms fully fuelled, and was notoriously top heavy, but it was still good enough to play a major part in the restoration of one of motorcycling’s most iconic brands.

The drive to erase Triumph’s bad reputation led to the bike being over-engineered, which meant it was a solid machine. Every review I can find of the thing speaks of reliability and robustness. It was apparently pretty fun to ride, as well, with MCN describing the bike as “grunty, fruity and versatile.” I’m not exactly sure what they mean by “fruity” (How does that word apply in a motorcycling context?) but I assume it’s a good thing.

IS IT BETTER THAN MY CURRENT MOTORCYCLE?

Ever since declaring bankruptcy back in 2019 I’ve been riding around on a 2006 Honda CBF1000 – not exactly the world’s sexiest motorcycle, but more fun than you’d imagine, reliable and relatively easy for an idiot to work on. Like all Hondas of the era, it lacks any real character beyond the trait of predictability. Hilariously, it was designed by Honda’s German wing as an answer to the BMW F 800 GT, an equally boring all-rounder that at least had the benefit of looking good.

I’ve never ridden a Triumph Trident 900 and can’t remember any of my UK moto-journo pals saying anything one way or the other about them, but for the fact that all ’90s Triumphs had a tendency to be upside down in terms of ideal weight distribution (ie, top heavy). Based on the Triumphs I have ridden, though – all of them produced at least 20 years after this one, admittedly – I’m willing to bet the Trident 900 would be plenty of fun on dry roads. It would garner considerably more attention than a Honda CBF1000 at cafes and other moto stops, and, if it’s been properly looked after, would be worth more in the future.  

However, by the nature of its being 32 years old it’s a given that this bike’s tech is old. It has carbs, which is something I’ve never dealt with in my wrenching experience. Based on the way my brother – a mechanic – groans when anyone talks of working on carburetors, I’m inclined to believe they are something I don’t want to work on, either. The Trident 900 also lacks anti-lock brakes. Meanwhile, although my 2006 Honda is rather primitive by current bike standards (Where’s the lean-sensitive traction control and smartphone connectivity?), it does have ABS and fuel injection.

In perfect conditions I’d suspect a 1991 Trident 900 is the more enjoyable machine thanks largely to intangibles. Is that enough to overcome the various issues that come with age? I suppose it depends on the individual rider and the bike’s intended use.

SHOULD I BUY THIS ONE?

By the nature of this particular bike being offered for less than £600, it’s obviously not one of those ‘looked after’ models. It is unlikely to be a darling of future classic bike shows. I have dealt with brakes on plenty of other bikes, and a relatively uncomplicated non-ABS set-up like the Trident 900’s shouldn’t be too mentally taxing to rebuild if the right parts can be found. That doesn’t mean such a job wouldn’t be a ball ache, though. 

Whereas I’m pretty sure that cleaning the carbs would be a nightmare. I have gathered this much from watching YouTube videos. A few years ago, I found myself very seriously considering the purchase of an old Yamaha YZF600R Thundercat. Considering my fondness for cruisers and touring bikes I almost certainly would have hated the bike but I was willing to give it a try, if not solely for the sake of being able to ride around on a bike called a “Thundercat.” 

Every time I started the bike I would have shouted: “Thunder! Thunder! Thunder! Thundercat, hoooo!”

Every. Time.

But it was not to be. Because in researching the bike I went down a rabbit hole of watching YouTube videos of dudes (almost always guys in the Northeast United States, strangely) fixing various issues. And I was struck by how complicated, fiddly and annoying any task related to carburetors seemed to be. Sure, the Triumph Trident 900 is a different beasty, and its largely exposed engine inherently makes any home maintenance work easier, but I’d still rather not get involved.

Meanwhile, along with old tech, everything else on this bike would be old, meaning an owner would need to develop a good relationship with parts suppliers. And with a model that was discontinued in 1998, there’s a good reason to wonder whether parts would be available at all. Especially a Triumph from that time period. Triumph’s sales took a while to gather pace after its restart; the number of Trident 900s sold in seven years is probably half the number of Trident 660s sold in the last three years.

Looking at the seller’s photos, the bike’s overall condition seems to be relatively good, considering its age. But I think I’ll pass on this one and keep saving my money for something else.