Discovering a tidy collection of the world’s most exclusive motorcycles.

Two titanic 1948 Vincents: the Series B Rapide (above) raced by Marty Dickerson and owned by him until 2000, and John Edgar's Series B Lightning (below), made famous by racer Rollie Free when he set a speed record at over 150 mph.

In all fields of creative endeavor there exist benchmarks to which other makes and breeds aspire. Standing alongside Rolls-Royce (of yore), d’Yquem, and Patek Philippe is Vincent, one-time maker of the world’s most exclusive—and elusive—motorcycles. And Harris likes them a lot.

So much so that he has painstakingly collected the most brilliant jewels in the Vincent crown; his motorcycles include examples from the earliest chapter of the company’s history—such as a 1932 Model Python Sport, the oldest Vincent in America—to the last-of-the-line Black Prince from 1955.

The bikes on display are rotated and ridden on a regular basis. Period trophies and publications populate the display cases. (Click image to enlarge)

Though it operated for less than three decades, the small English firm left an indelible mark on the two-wheeled world, winning races and setting a standard for innovation, fit, finish, and overall performance that continues to resonate long after the marque’s demise.

That resonance can be heard—literally—in the gracious, wood-paneled gallery that adjoins the Harris home in a peaceful Austin neighborhood. The inviting space houses a rotating collection of machinery by Vincent and others that tells the story of the once-proud British motorcycle industry—a story that Harris is committed to preserving and articulating.

Vincent made its reputation with single-cylinder and V-twin motorcycles of 500cc and 1,000cc displacement, respectively. The production Singles—the most popular was the Comet—were essentially half of the mighty V-twin, which evolved from Series A through Series B, C, and D iterations. The basic V-twin was the Rapide, although souped-up versions called the Black Shadow were offered in the Series B, C, and D models. Speed demons could order the Black Lightning, nominally a 150 mph Series C that was marketed as "The World’s Fastest Standard Motorcycle."

Harris’ collection of production bikes—which includes Vincent Series A, B, C, and D Rapides—is fleshed out by other marques, including Brough Superior, BSA, Matchless, Norton, and Triumph. Most occupy the adjacent garage, which is also home to more recent classics, such as an MV Agusta 850SS and a brace of bevel-drive Ducatis. An avid rider, Harris does not forsake modern motor-cycles; his collection also includes recent models from BMW, Ducati, Harley-Davidson, Triumph, and a Suzuki Hyabusa.

But the nuclei of the collection—and of far greater rarity—are those iconic Vincents that competed as road racers, drag- and land-speed record bikes. Harris has them all, and then some.

Hard work and serendipity enabled Harris to track down the very first Series B, or "modern" Vincent V-twin engine, the prototype known by its number, 1X/1. Designed by the legendary engineer Phil Irving and built in 1946, it was the motor that established the company after World War II. 1X/1 has a colorful history, having seen sidecar, boat, and even aircraft duty before being installed in a racing replica cycle prior to its acquisition in 2003.

Within two short years, Vincent was well on its way to dominating the large-displacement motorcycle scene, and ads of the period trumpeted the achievements of two American racers who rode the big Twins. One was Marty Dickerson, who bought a 1948 Series B Rapide—one of the first in the States—and established the American Class C Speed Record in the summers of 1952 and 1953 (running the bike at 141.72 mph and 147.58 mph, respectively) at Bonneville Salt Flats, Utah. The bike evolved over a period of history with its owner, from whom Harris bought the machine in 2000.

Marty Dickerson with his Series B in the early 1950s. (Click image to enlarge)

"Marty’s a racer, not a collector," says Harris. "Marty’s bike was a work in progress, and Marty finally perfected it, and it had to be suitable for road racing. He moved the front fender to the rear. Over the years, he’s had to change the wheels from 21s down to 18s so that he could get the right kind of rubber to pass inspection. And he’s had to make other changes to allow the bike to still be competitive. Marty told me, ‘I’ve had three wives, but I still have this one Vincent.’ That’s all he needed. It became a race bike one weekend. It became a drag bike during the week. It was his hobby, his livelihood, the source of his fame, his transportation. It did everything for Marty. It reflects Marty the man."

Rollie Free on Edgar's Bathing Suit Bike clocked at 150.313 mph. (Click image to enlarge)

The "Blue Bike," as Harris calls Dickerson’s racer, shares the gallery with an even more significant Vincent. California sportsman John Edgar’s 1948 Series B Black Lightning was one of only 32 built, and it went on to become the most famous motorcycle in the world. Edgar purchased the bike to go racing, and its rider, Rollie Free, is immortalized in an equally famous photograph taken that year at Bonneville. Free, after having torn his leathers during earlier runs, wears only a bathing suit, shower cap, and borrowed sneakers, lying down on the seatless contraption as it travels at more than 150 mph. He wrested the U.S. national motorcycle speed record from Harley-Davidson that day in 1948, and went on to eventually set the American Class A Speed Record at Bonneville in 1950 with a top speed of 156.58 mph. After Free’s accomplishments, the motorcycle was "borrowed" from Edgar by a subsequent rider and disappeared into obscurity until a contentious battle for the vehicle’s title brought the bike to light. Finally, in 1996, it found a home with Harris, who has made it the centerpiece of his collection.

Reg Dearden’s 1949 Series C Supercharged Black Lightning does not occupy the gallery, but sits quietly in the corner of the Harris family room. Not many domestic settings boast such rarefied rolling stock. Dearden was a British Norton dealer who envisioned a record-breaking Vincent to bring the motorcycle land speed record back to Britain. The motorcycle was returned to Stevenage in 1950 to have a supercharger and numerous special parts fitted and the frame lengthened by 4 inches. The project came to an abrupt halt in 1953 when Dearden’s rider, Les Graham, was killed in a race accident. Harris’ assiduous sleuthing led him to the bike’s owner, and it joined the collection in 1997.

Herb Harris atop the most famous motorcycle in the world. (Click image to enlarge)

In addition to motorcycles, Harris has amassed the most complete collection of engine cutaways extant. The stationary powerplants—ingeniously machined to expose the inner workings of engine and gearbox—were a popular fixture at motorcycle shows and dealer showrooms of their day. Harris even managed to acquire a complete, sectioned BSA Gold Star; its platform conceals two electric motors that turn the engine, spin the wheels, and even articulate the cutaway suspension. Other collectibles include trophies, literature, and period parts and accessories pertaining to the golden age of British motorcycling. Of special interest are documents and drawings from the Vincent archives, including some of Phil Vincent’s first designs and the very contract that conveyed ownership of HRD to the young entrepreneur.

Despite their rarity, none of Harris’ motorcycles are static objects. Saturday morning, I emerged from the comfortable apartment situated above the gallery and joined Harris and Tony Temple, the collection’s caretaker. Temple is one of very few mechanics who specializes in the intricate and eccentric Vincent powerplants. Temple is also the chief mechanic for Harris’ company, Harris Vincent Gallery, which sells Vincents and other classic motorcycles and collectibles to a narrow coterie of enthusiasts worldwide.

	The Harris Vincent Gallery is a comfortable space for contemplating Britain's best rolling stock. Also on exhibit is a selection of Harris' many engine cutaways that form an astonishing collection in their own right. (Click image to enlarge)

The day began with bringing a most auspicious engine to life. The Bathing Suit Bike had been wheeled from its place of honor into the driveway, and looked so very anachronistic parked in front of Harris’ daily driver, an Aston Martin Vanquish. (Note that Harris also prefers his GMC pickup over a tarted-up SUV.) A quick spin of the rear wheel brought the racer to life, and what a sound I heard. "It’s pretty exciting stuff, isn’t it?" asked Harris. I was inspired; no other motorcycle exhaust, except a bevel-drive Ducati equipped with Conti pipes, is as exciting. The motor is ungodly loud but full of character, and Harris knew I wanted to ride.

I was thankful that my invitation extended beyond an opportunity to look, touch, and listen. We shut down the racer, and I began my travel back in time with an excursion on the second oldest Vincent in the collection, a 1937 TT Replica. The Series A single was a racing version of the Comet Special, and the small bike was the perfect way to acclimatize oneself with the Vincent machines. I followed Harris on his 1955 Black Prince through some lovely Austin neighborhoods, with sweeping roads and an undulating green landscape dotted with homes. Within a couple of miles, I got into a groove on the ancient Vincent. Light and nimble, the sprightly senior amply demonstrated why riders enjoy such early machines.

Harris and I switched mounts and took off for another ride. The Black Prince was a bike ahead of its time, enclosed in full bodywork and looking like nothing so much as a 20th-century armored horse. Essentially a Series D Black Shadow ensconced in fiberglass, the bike was a dismal commercial failure; approximately 120 Black Prince and 100 Black Knight models were made. But it felt good; at only 460 pounds, the 55 hp twin made real power and was supremely comfortable to ride. Quiet and responsive, it belies its age, and it was easy to imagine that I was riding a motorcycle 25 years newer.

The Series C is the Vincent of choice if you can have only one. Shown here, a 1951 Black Shadow.

Of course, greater excitement was in store. In our absence, Temple had fueled up a pair of Series C Shadows. One of them was Harris’ favorite riding Vincent, a Lightningized Shadow named "The Beast" by its original owner, racer Mal Thompson. According to Harris, "It has this great history as a nitro drag bike; it’s the most famous Texas Vincent, and the thing runs so fast. It starts up and it’s got this thrilling straight exhaust, and it pulls and brakes so hard. ‘The Beast’ will actually lock the tires up with its drum brakes, and it’s a 135 mph motorcycle. Powerful. Sounds beautiful. Looks better than any other Vincent that I’ve got to ride, and so it has it all. It’s got legend and real-world performance."

I would soon learn that Harris wasn’t kidding. I settled onto the other Shadow, an original example that had me thinking "comfortable old Ducati" as we embarked on a longer ride at a much faster clip. The motor was strong and responsive, and the machine loped along nicely without a hint of stress. Intake roar, valve noise, and exhaust blended into a harmonious blanket of sound. If only Harley-Davidsons sounded so good. Braking and handling were better than my old XLCR. The fast sweepers and a stretch of interstate let the Vincent stretch its legs, and I would have gladly ridden for hours.