In a few short years, Honda Motor Company rose from the ashes of postwar Japan to become one of the country’s premier producers of motorcycles. Its explosive growth was thanks to impeccable timing, ingenious engineering, and innovative products. They sold thousands of Dream motorcycles and Cub scooters monthly, and the recent introduction of the Juno and Benly was sure to further bolster their sales figures. Founders Soichiro Honda and Takeo Fujisawa expected this trajectory to continue. They predicted that sales of 1 billion yen weren’t far off. But then the cracks came to the surface. 

The inventiveness that put Honda at the forefront of the domestic motorcycle industry also contributed to their unraveling. The Juno and Benly suffered from crippling reliability issues that sullied their name among first-time buyers. And even the stalwart Dream was starting to fade from consciousness. Instead of ramping up, their sales stagnated at 350 million yen. Their goal of 1 billion yen in sales went from wishful to foolish. This drastic difference between expectations and reality resulted in their factories and warehouses being flooded with unsold inventory. 

Morale at Honda cratered. This was mostly because of their dire financial situation, but the book Honda Motor: The Men, The Management, The Machines attributes at least part of this to Soichiro’s brash leadership style. Author Tetsuo Sakiya goes on to say:

“Because of the company’s rapid growth following the success of the Dream Type E, over 2,000 new workers had been hired. They differed greatly both in terms of ability and salaries, which caused some confusion in the internal organization of the factory. Honda appeared almost every day to supervise his engineers, and his behavior was often abrasive and sometimes violent when he was not satisfied with their work. For their part, some of the workers were disappointed in the “management style” of their boss and began to have doubts about the future of the company. The morale at Honda Motor was plummeting and incidents of sabotage were reported.”

Honda was in desperate need of a distraction, and not just for tier own sake, either. The general public as banks were all too aware of their plight. Potential buyers were wary of buying a machine from a company on life support. Investors, meanwhile, thought that they would be better off setting their coffers ablaze than putting money into Honda. The company had to make this a distant memory, and fast. On March 20th, 1954, Soichiro Honda did just that.

He formally announced their intent to enter the Isle of Man Tourist Trophy, the most grueling and prestigious motorcycle race in the world. This was shocking enough on its own, but those that read the details of the announcement found a passage even more surprising:

“With this, I announce my determination, and pledge with you that I will put my entire heart and soul, and turn all my creativity and skills to the task of entering the TT Races and winning them.”

Why would Honda, a company that was hardly 5 years old, make such a bold proclamation? They were already going through financial difficulties and gearing up for something like that was bound to take even more out of them. Failing to make good on the declaration could send the company over the edge.

Soichiro was aware of the risks, but there were two drivers that pushed him in this direction. He was an avid motor enthusiast and knew that a win there would place his company among the industry heavyweights. He was inspired by the journey of Hironoshin Furuhashi, a Japanese swimmer that set freestyle swimming world records at the 1949 Aquatics Championships. Soichiro saw parallels between Japan at that time and his own company in the present moment. The country was still reeling from its loss in the war and national pride was at an all-time low. His showing in the United States gave Japan a boost in morale. Soichiro believed that a victory would have a similar effect on the company. 

PRIOR RACE EXPERIENCE

This wouldn’t be the first time Honda would participate in an international contest. Months prior to Soichiro’s declaration, the company entered a race in Sao Paulo. This was the first time, since or before World War II, that Japanese riders traveled overseas to compete in a race.  This particular outing shows just how amateurish their racing program was. They only sent two of their own to Brazil. Although rider Mikio Omura wasn't a professional rider, he was probably the best person at Honda for the job. He was an assembly line worker and test rider. He displayed his aptitude for racing when he took a C-Type Dream to a race. Well, Omura would probably argue that "took" is too strong of a word. He would rather say that it was "borrowed without permission." He was victorious, but the good tidings probably wouldn't last. Soichiro Honda himself was in the crowd, and he was sure to give Omura a verbal lashing. This didn't happen. He was actually impressed with Omura's outing. And Soichiro knew exactly who to look to when it came time to go racing. Along with him was Toshiji Baba, an engineer and mechanic. 

The pair paid Soichiro Honda a visit the day before they set off for Sao Paulo. Here, he laid out his expectations. 

“Don’t expect to win. But do finish the race, whatever it takes. That’s all I ask.”

Shipping the bikes by sea would have taken too long and air freighting them would’ve been prohibitively expensive. Omura and Baba had to disassemble them and store them in their luggage. 

The issues only compounded once they landed in Sao Paulo. Omura didn’t want to practice on his race machine out of fear of damaging it, but they couldn’t bring a spare one. He needed to borrow a bike from a generous local. The race bike was also originally designed to race on dirt tracks and wasn’t specifically tuned to tackle tarmac tracks like Interlagos. And then there was his competition. He was going up against seasoned racers that had extensive experience on the track. Their machines were also much more powerful than Omura’s. His bike had about 6 horsepower and had a top speed of about 115KPH. Nello Pagani, The winner of the race, had an average speed of over 130KPH. Omura thought that bike had twice the power of his own.

At least they were able to fulfill Soichiro’s wish. Omura finished 13th out of 25 participants. For any other club, this would be a forgettable showing. For Honda, this was something to build upon.

This could have been a one-time affair. Honda’s outstanding balances were due on June 10th. If they couldn’t pay their creditors then Honda would fall into bankruptcy, or worse. It would be impossible for anyone to concentrate with the threat of insolvency hanging over their head, even for someone as focused as Soichiro. Fujisawa knew this was eating away at him. When Soichiro traveled to the Isle of Man to observe the race in person, Fujisawa scheduled it so that he wouldn’t be in the country when the balance was due. Sending the president out of the country also gave the impression that all was well within the company. 

Soichiro was an entire continent removed from Honda’s monetary woes, but what he encountered on Man was nearly as disheartening. The race required a level of precision far beyond his comprehension. The tight, winding urban course was much more challenging to navigate than Japan’s unpaved routes and was even a step above purpose-built circuits like Interlagos. The motorcycles were also engineering masterworks. Soichiro focused his attention on the ultra-lightweight 125cc class, and even those bikes made enormous amounts of power. Creating a motorcycle that could whether these conditions would be tough enough on its own, but winning outright seemed nigh impossible. He began to doubt himself, but then he used his fear of failure as the motivation to succeed:

“I could not help feeling that I had made a preposterous declaration. I felt half-discouraged and half-flabergasted in thinking that it would be a long time before my dream of winning the TT would be realized. But it did not take me too much time for my inborn unyielding spirit to reassert itself. There is no reason why, I thought, something which could be done by foreigners could not be done by the Japanese. And what I thought I had to do was to concentrate on my research to find out why it was that the motorcycles I had seen on the Isle of Man which had the same number of cylinders as ours had three times the horsepower.”

DEVELOPMENT

Preparations began as soon as he returned to Japan. Kiyoshi Kawashima was put in charge of the endeavor. The team didn’t have much autonomy early on. They received input from just about every department in the company. Engineering work slowed to a crawl. The situation got so bad that Kawashima threatened to step down if the racing division didn’t get its own department. Soichiro seemed to agree.

It was soon broken off into its own section within the company. The move also netted them a team of engineers, designers, assemblymen, riders, and a team manager. Most importantly, they would no longer have to hear out the other departments. The racing division was near the top of the company ladder. The only person above it was Soichiro.

You might expect for this to be a highly methodical operation carried out by the company’s most experienced engineers. In reality, Honda entrusted their racing efforts to employees that were hardly out of school. Kawashima was just 26 years old when he assumed leadership of the project. He went on to say:

"Around that time, there were a lot of engineers who were in their thirties and forties, but the company went ahead and gave the job to a bunch of young guys instead. I wasn't thirty yet. We were all in our twenties. Although we were given a lot of responsibility, we were so young that it didn't scare us."

The bikes that Soichiro saw on the Isle could reach engine speeds of 10,000RPM. Honda’s most powerful engine maxed out at just 7,000RPM. This doesn’t appear to be a huge difference on the surface, but the team would have to iron out several mechanical issues before they could field a competitive machine.

The flywheel, for instance, simply couldn’t stand up to that kind of stress. After running a few stress tests, the team found that it cracked at 7,500RPM and fractured outright at 8,000RPM.

Fragments actually broke through the engine housing and ricocheted off of the ceiling. This would be catastrophic if it happened during the race. The engineers tried to amend the issue, but it wasn’t until Soichiro had a look that they came to a solution. Before starting Honda Motor, he managed a company that specialized in the creation of piston rings. He drew from his deep knowledge of metal casting and formulated a theory. 

He likened the flywheel to an egg. If the outer shell is damaged, even slightly, then the yolk will leak out. Likewise, the outer shell of the flywheel had an inherent defect that compromised its integrity. This component was redesigned from the ground up, which got them closer to their target engine speed and amended a critical flaw in their consumer products. 

Still, their first prototype engine couldn’t maintain high RPMs for sustained periods. They identified the connecting rod as another point of failure. They reinforced it, though, surprisingly, this didn’t do much of anything. Soichiro thought that the issue was the manner in which the connecting rod interacted with the other components. He suggested that they make it lighter so that it would be more harmonious with the other parts. This seemed like a counter-intuitive approach, but it worked.

Weight savings were just as important as power gains. The team worked to shave off ounces wherever they could, including the chain. They couldn't source one from a domestic supplier, as no one produced a chain that could meet Honda's rigorous standards. Instead of leaving the part be, The company decided to make one of its own. In collaboration with Daido, they developed the first Japanese motorcycle chain that was durable enough to survive competition. Unfortunately, they couldn't get this component finished in time for the race. 

Soichiro came to a startling realization as work on the engine finally got off the ground. Testing and maintaining the bikes would be troublesome because the parts needed to keep them up to spec weren't available in Japan. It would also aid R&D efforts immensely if the engineers could lay eyes on parts from overseas. So he flew to Europe and purchased as many parts as he could. The spending spree came to an end at an airport in Rome.

Airport staff pulled him aside and informed him that he had exceeded the carry-on weight limit. He had carbs, wires, and spark plugs in his hold luggage. He also had tires and rims on his back. He only wanted the luggage checked, but the staff insisted on weighing everything. The total weight came to 40 kilos, which was 10 over the limit.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to pay the additional fee. He literally couldn’t. He spent all of his money buying up the parts and couldn’t cover the charge. He tried to weasel out of it by claiming that the overnight bag hadn’t been weighed when he left Japan. He didn’t see why it had to be checked now. This old stunt didn’t fool them. Then Soichiro had another idea. He emptied out the contents of the bag, sorted the items, and stuffed whatever he could under his coat. Even though he was bringing the same amount of weight onto the plane, security had to let him on because, technically, he had reduced his carry-on luggage. He was so loaded down that he nearly passed out as he stepped off the flight. 

Soichiro also managed to ship an NSU and an FB Mondial back to Japan. They were disassembled and studied, but the team didn’t want to outright copy them. They just wanted to see how those engineers managed to extract enormous amounts of power from low displacement powerplants. There were significant differences between those bikes and Honda’s own. They were single-cylinder machines, but Honda decided to go with a twin-cylinder layout. Honda also wanted to explore using four valves per cylinder in their engine.

Research up to that point didn’t shine favorably on that approach. Most thought that 2 valve designs provided optimal airflow. 4-valve layouts enjoyed a brief period of success in the early 20th century but fell out of favor as the motorcycle racing scene matured. 

This didn’t deter the engineers at Honda. They pressed onward and made one of the most important revelations motoring history. An article from Cycle World written by Kevin Cameron states that the total weight of two smaller valves is considerably less than that of a single valve of equal total flow area. The piece goes into more detail, saying:

“Every dimension of the single, larger valve is bigger. Its head diameter is bigger, so the head must also be thicker to support combustion pressure over its larger area. The bigger valve needs a longer valve stem, to make room for its larger single port to turn down, and that stem has to be sufficiently thicker to withstand the force of the stronger valve springs. It’s like comparing two cubes, one whose sides are 1 inch long, and another whose sides are 2 inches long. What is the ratio of their volumes? For the 1-inch cube, it’s 1 cubic inch: 1 x 1 x 1 = 1. But for the 2-inch cube, it is 2 x 2 x 2 = 8 cubic inches.

Instead of scaling directly with head diameter, valve weight scales nearly as the cube of head diameter. The lighter the valve, the easier it is to make it follow the cam contour without valve float.”

Honda’s 4-valve engine was even lighter, which allowed them to achieve engine speeds that were roughly 40 percent higher than before, provided they could provide adequate airflow. The 4-valve RC-142 could achieve an astonishing 14,000RPM. This translated to an increase in power. The RC141, its 2-valve forebearer, made just over 15HP. The RC142 made nearly 18HP. 

1959: ARRIVAL

Five years after Soichiro’s declaration, Honda was finally ready to take on the Tourist Trophy. The Sao Paulo excursion seemed like an eternity ago. This time, the company was sending out an entire traveling party. It included Kawashima, four riders, two mechanics manager Yoshitaka Iida, and rider/interpreter Bill Hunt. They also had tools, practice machines, and spares. This was a strong first effort that nearly went to waste. The Japanese government was focused on developing Japan’s economy. They weren’t likely to put financial support behind something as trivial as a motorcycle race, and they’d be especially reluctant to do so for a company like Honda, which did almost no exporting at this time. The team feared that they’d deny them permission to take out foreign currency or even outright refuse to issue export visas. They needed to think outside of the box if they had any hope of participating in the Tourist Trophy.

To get around this, they posed as temporary employees of the Okura Trading Company. This is a real enterprise that served as a vital link between Japan and the rest of the world. The company was on good terms with Honda, so they were more than happy to help out. The higher-ups looked the other way and government officials couldn’t see through their disguise. 

The team touched down on the Isle well before any other club. The bikes arrived by sea not long after. They went to check on them and remove any surface rust. When they pried the shipping container, they found that the rice and bean paste they’d packed alongside them had gone bad. This unforeseen expense ate into their already meager funds. To make matters worse, the team wasn’t allowed to eat at their hotel’s bar. They were stuck eating mutton from the time they arrived to when the checkered flag finally fell.

Then came another bombshell. The team spent months studying the layout of the track. Flying out to see the race in person wasn’t possible, so they resorted to watching competition footage in movie theatres.

In time, they learned how to tackle every bend and straightaway that they’d encounter during the race. It wasn't until they reached the Isle that they learned that the event would take place on an entirely different course. The 125cc Ultra-lightweight machines would be racing on the Clypse course. You might think that this would be a good thing for Honda, seeing as how the roughly 11-mile track was considerably shorter than the main course, which was about 38 miles long. But that was the one that the team spent weeks picking apart.

The riders scrambled to familiarize themselves with the Clypse Course. The anxiety was even greater for Teisuke Tanaka, who had no experience on paved roads. He circled the route again and again to get his bearings. The islanders periodically interrupted his practice runs. Word had spread that a Japanese company had entered the race. Apparently, this was something that they needed to see with their own eyes to believe.

Time became a scarce asset as race day neared. The 4-valve cylinder heads that R&D had labored over for months were meant to be shipped out with the bikes. They weren’t finished in time, so they needed to be sent over by air at the last moment. The team was on such short notice that they only had time to install three of them.

In light of the technical difficulties, unwanted surprises, and heightened intensity, Honda had a very encouraging first outing. The club finished 6th, 7th, 8th, and 10th. Bill Hunt fell off of his bike and was forced to retire. Honda also took home the constructor’s prize. 

1960: THE GAUNTLET

Honda spent five years developing a machine that could challenge the world’s finest. Now it was time to add to their stable of riders. Soichiro explained further. 

“Nearly two years after we declared our intention to take part in the Isle of Man races, as the technical levels of components and mechanical features of the engine improved, we were able to come up with an engine powerful enough to compete with foreign motorcycles. The young engineers did a very good job. But that alone was not enough to assure us victory in the Tourist Trophy races. The rider is as important as the machine. Even if we had a machine with the same level of performance as those of our competitors, we still couldn’t win the race without a top-notch rider. We had to develop a racing machine with a superior performance that would win even without a superior rider.”

Their first rider actually came to them. Australian-born Tom Philis was so impressed with their outing at the TT that he wrote them a letter, seeking to represent them for the 1960 season. He had been driving professionally since 1952 and had a fair bit of experience with the Tourist Trophy. Honda rounded out their stable of riders with the signings of Bob Brown and Jim Redman.

Last year’s TT was critical in legitimizing their racing program, both at home and abroad. They could leave their trenchcoats and dollar store mustaches at home. The Japanese government realized how international competition could benefit the country and allowed them to leave and enter Japan at their leisure. Bike smuggling also became a thing of the past. Airport security always recognized them and waved the team through. 

Victory eluded them this year as well. Honda finished 6th-10th in the 125cc class. They also entered the 250cc class, where the riders finished 4th-6th. Although the team couldn’t bring the trophy home, they did fortify their position as a first-rate motorcycle club. Honda added six additional races to their schedule. They secured their very first podium finish at the West German GP, where Kenjiro Tanaka finished in third. They weren’t in the mood to celebrate, however. Bob Brown was in the middle of his practice runs when his bike began to misfire. He limped back to the pit when the bike kicked back on at full power. He was launched out of his seat and flew onto the track. Bob Brown later died from his injuries. He was just 30 years old.

1961: VICTORY

In 1959, Honda entered the world of motorcycle racing. In 1960, they proved that they were there to stay. They set their sights even higher for 1961. In an effort to reach those lofty goals, they pursued one of the most sought-after drivers on the market: Mike Hailwood. 

They didn’t call him “Mike the Bike” for nothing. He showed an aptitude for racing from an early age. His father Stan was willing and able to nurture his son’s budding enthusiasm. Mike had a range of machines to hone is skills on, including a Royal Enfield mini-bike and a link trainer. 

Even still, he considered racing as little more than a hobby. He enrolled in Pangbourne Nautical College with aspirations of joining the Navy, but he dropped out just two years later. He worked a spell on a Triumph assembly line before rediscovering his love of motorcycles. He entered his first race in 1957 and in four short years had become one of the brightest young stars on the scene. Of course, Honda wasn’t the only company vying for his services. 

Mike’s mechanics were impressed with the performance of Ducati’s Desmo, though there were a few issues that kept it from being the favorite. Mike, meanwhile, flew out to Germany to try out the latest MZ machines. They were put together well enough, though external factors killed the deal before it ever got off the ground. The company couldn’t put up a competitive offer in cash. They put product on the table, but Mike kindly turned them down. His mechanics were also used to working on 4-stroke engines and would have a hell of a time keeping the 2-stroke MZs in order.

Perhaps all of this was for dramatic effect. Stan Hailwood had been in talks with Honda for months and they were close to striking a deal. The company had competitive machines, oodles of cash, and a relentless desire to win. That last point resonated with Mike, who had yet to claim victory at the Isle. Stan also headed the largest motorcycle dealer network in the United Kingdom. If all went according to plan, then Honda might even find their products in King’s infinitely-reaching web of showrooms. 

There was a snag in their plan. Oil companies were among the largest sponsors in two-wheeled racing. Mike was backed by British Petroleum while Honda had a relationship with Castrol Oil. The two companies were unlikely to support the interest of a competitor. The deal sat in limbo for a moment, but they found a way around this. A supplier by the name of Hondis Ltd. would field the riders. Technically, Mike would be racing as a Honda privateer. 

He had his first go on a Honda at Brand’s hatch. This race gave spectators a taste of what was to come. He won the race outright and also set a new lap record. Both parties were set to reel in their Mody Dick, though an inexplicable logistics issue reared its ugly head as the race approached. 

Honda had assured Mike that he would receive a 125cc bike and a 250cc bike for the race. They ran into a supply issue and informed the Hailwood camp that they wouldn’t be able to provide the former in time for the race. It seemed as if Mike would have to wait an entire year for another shot at the Tourist Trophy, but his father wasn’t having any of it. He described him as a very headstrong and persistent person, stating:

“...If you short-changed him a penny he’d be down on you like a ton of bricks. If something is set in his mind it's a devil of a job to shake him off it, Honda had a taste of this at the 1961 TT.”

Mike then went on to say:

“It looked as if I wasn’t going to get one after all, I was quite resigned to it, but Stan wouldn’t give up.”

Stan hounded the company for a machine until they finally worked something out. Mike would take on the Isle of Man Tourist Trophy, the motorcyclist’s equivalent to the Nurburgring, on teammate Luigi Taveri’s’ practice bike. It wasn’t truly his own, but he was lucky to be able to ride into battle with anything at all.

1961 was a monumental year for Mike Hailwood, Honda, and the Japanese motorcycle industry as a whole. The company did something unprecedented; they won the race outright and took the top five spots in both the 125cc and 250cc categories. Hailwood finished first in both, but he wasn’t satisfied with this. He also won the high-powered senior class on a Norton. 4 victories in a single year was a possibility. He was leading the junior category on an AJS, but he suffered a mechanical failure within miles of the finish line. He was forced to retire. Still, Honda displayed a level of dominance that hadn’t been seen before, or since. 

This was the start of a “golden age” for Honda. They’d won the Japanese Motorcycle Grand Prix earlier in the year. Later on, they won the Italian Grand Prix. This made Honda the first manufacturer to win all three titles. I don’t mean Japanese manufacturer, either. I mean manufacturer PERIOD. 

And their grip on the Tourist Trophy only strengthened. Honda gradually entered more of the classes and by 1967 had machines in each of them aside from the sidecar category. That year, they won all of them. Just as they were becoming a premier motorcycle club, Honda pulled the plug on their two-wheeled racing endeavors. It was time for Soichiro to fulfill another lifelong desire.