Instead of typing away furiously at my keyboard writing stories, sending emails, and generally creating corporate synergy like a good employee, I’ve spent the last few hours in front of the window of the spare bedroom behind my office, looking out on the long curve in my paved driveway. I sip cold coffee and picture the concrete as a racetrack. Imagining where the race line would be. Picturing how I would roll on the throttle just past the first evergreen tree. I set up for the lazy right hander that would connect me to the main road …
This is all because my editor sent me a link to this Triumph Trackmaster on Bring a Trailer. It’s his fault I’m being so unproductive.
It’s delightful to imagine the bike’s Triumph TR6-sourced twin-cylinder engine thundering along a race track, its trumpet exhaust broadcasting the thump of the 750cc engine. That 100-cc bump over the stock powerplant would be welcome, but not strictly needed, considering that a stock TR6 made 42 horsepower. This bike’s constructor combined that increased displacement with a set of Mikuni carbs and free-flowing exhaust, producing a bike that’s not only gorgeous but also highly capable.
That balance between attractive and functional defines the rest of the bike, too. In fact, the engine is a footnote to the Trackmaster frame. The engine may be Triumph, but the frame is Triumph by way of Ray Hensley, who was contracted in the late 1960s and early ’70s to create lightened racing frames for the British firm’s racing efforts. The resulting Trackmaster frames feature track-specific geometry and do away with the tabs and mounting points for necessary street-legal hardware—hence the lack of a headlight in that gorgeous fiberglass fairing. For the same reason, there’s no taillight tucked under the minute tail section.
I would be all the way back on that tail section, rear wedged against the small bump of a seat as I powered out of a corner and tried to tuck into the smoothest slipstream possible. Then, an abrupt transition from go to whoa as I clamped down on the Grimeca disc brakes. The braking force of the two rotors in front and a single one in the rear would shift my weight forward, loading the Ceriani front fork as I began to turn in and pop my knee out, shifting ever so slightly to the right, preparing to blast out of another corner. The Works shock in the rear would work diligently to put the power of the parallel-twin to the pavement without skipping the tire.
This red-and-white blur would stand up with a twist of my right wrist as I carefully kept the bike in the powerband by manipulating the shifter with my right foot when the lone gauge—a 12,000 rpm tachometer—dictated a gear change. With five gears to choose between, it would be important to pick the right one on each section of the track. Even more so if this bike were equipped with the TR6 four-speed.
I would apex the heck out of my driveway and the bike would love it. The only problem? I don’t own this Triumph, and there are a few more days until the auction ends. For now, I’ve got to get back to real business. Interested in buying this bike and realizing your own track-day dreams? You’ve got three days left until the auction ends.