It’s not much of an island, really, the Isle of Man. Just 33 miles long and 12 1/2 wide, it lies quietly in the Irish Sea, midway between England and Northern Ireland. But for 100 years now, as May gives way to June, the Isle of Man grows exponentially in stature as it welcomes thousands upon thousands of motorcyclists, there to take part in TT Week, one of the sport’s great happenings.
Twenty years ago, I was one of those thousands, riding a Cagiva 650SS up from the riveted bowels of the ferry ship Lady of Manonto the dockside at Douglas, the Island’s capital city. I was there as part of Cycle World’s assault on the TT, spearheaded by Editor-at-Large Steve Thompson, riding a Suzuki GSX-R750 in the Production race.
As I rolled along the Promenade, the two-mile stretch of Victorian holiday hotels that rings horseshoe-shaped Douglas Bay, I realized I didn’t know quite what to expect from the Isle of Man. Of course, over the years I’d read the magazine reports and my mental scrapbook was filled to brimming with vivid, sepia-toned images from the past. There was Geoff Duke “crawling under the paint” of his big Featherbed Norton as it flashed down Sulby Straight. John Surtees hurtling the works MV 500 over the jump at Ballaugh Bridge. And strongest of all, visions of the epic arch-rivalry between Mike “The Bike” Hailwood on the shrieking, shaking Hondas and the immaculate Giacomo Agostini aboard his equally immaculate “fire engine” Agustas.
Then the strangely romantic names of the corners and landmarks around the 37.73-mile TT Mountain Course came to mind. Bray Hill and Ballacraine…the Quarry Bends and Creg-ny-Baa…Windy Corner and Cronk-ny-Mona. On and on, magic names all.What concerned me as I weaved through traffic—besides the fact that, like the English, Manxmen drive on the wrong side of the road—was whether the 1987 Isle of Man TT could possible live up to the advance billing that my mind had drummed up.
I needn’t have worried.