A motorcycle can be fast, rare, and expensive, but that still doesn’t explain why certain names refuse to fade. We’re chasing one of the biggest: Brough Superior, the British marque forever tied to the phrase “the Rolls-Royce of motorcycles” and to the even bigger personality of its creator, George Brough.
We walk through where Brough Superior comes from, how the company grows out of earlier Brough motorcycles, and why the details matter, especially the iconic fuel tank design and the way George assembled bikes from best-available components. That “parts-bin” accusation becomes a real discussion about what good design actually is: not doing everything yourself, but choosing wisely, integrating cleanly, and building something that feels intentional. Along the way, we lean on the definitive reference book, talk real production realities, and share why these 1930s machines can still run shockingly well today.
Then we get into the stories that made the legend: SS80 and SS100 speed guarantees, Brooklands runs, crashes, and the marketing magic behind the Rolls-Royce comparison, including the infamous white glove tale. We also cover T.E. Lawrence, Lawrence of Arabia, his deep connection to the brand, and how a Brough Superior becomes part of motorcycle history in the most tragic way.
Finally, we bring it home to Janus Motorcycles and the modern small-batch mindset: what we share with those old builders, where we’re intentionally different, and why “beautiful, visible craft” can be its own frontier when outright speed is already solved. Subscribe, share this with a fellow rider who loves vintage motorcycles, and leave a rating and review so more people can find the Ramblestream.
More About this Episode
The Spirit of the Machine: Lessons from Brough Superior
When we sit down at Janus Motorcycles to design a new frame or consider the lines of a fuel tank, we aren't just looking at metal and welds. We are looking at a lineage. Every modern motorcycle carries the DNA of the pioneers who came before us, those "inveterate tinkerers" who transitioned the world from horsepower to actual horsepower. Among those giants, none loom larger or more elegantly than George Brough and his creation: Brough Superior.
I have spent a great deal of time reflecting on the history of Brough Superior. Whether flipping through the pages of Peter Miller’s definitive history of the brand or standing in the presence of twenty of these machines in a single room, the impact is immediate. Known as the Rolls-Royce of Motorcycles, Brough Superior represented a specific pinnacle of pre-war engineering and aesthetic ambition. While our work at Janus is distinct, there is a shared philosophy in the way we approach small-scale manufacturing and the pursuit of a beautiful, functional machine.
The Art of the Assembly
One of the most common critiques leveled at boutique manufacturers, both then and now, is the idea of the "parts-bin" bike. George Brough was often accused of this because he sourced his engines from JAP (J.A. Prestwich) and Matchless, and famously used Harley-Davidson front forks on many of his models. At Janus, we occasionally hear similar whispers because we source engines and specific components rather than casting every single bolt in-house.
However, looking at the success of Brough Superior provides a vital perspective on this. George Brough was an artist with an engineer's soul. He may have lacked some technical drawing skills, but he possessed a legendary eye for line and proportion. He took disparate, high-quality components and harmonized them into a package that was greater than the sum of its parts. This is exactly what we strive for in Goshen. The magic isn't necessarily in reinventing the internal combustion engine every Monday morning; it is in the curation, the geometry, and the soul of the final assembly.
The iconic Brough fuel tank is a perfect example. Developed alongside Percy Mayo during the First World War, that tank became the visual anchor of the brand. It didn't matter that the engine underneath it was used by other manufacturers. When you saw that tank, you knew you were looking at a Brough. We feel the same way about our chassis and our signature aesthetic. A motorcycle should be a cohesive statement of intent.
Performance and the Hundred-Mile Guarantee
George Brough was a racer through and through. He didn't just market speed; he lived it, often to his own physical detriment. He suffered significant crashes at speeds nearing 100 mph, once even losing a front tire at Brooklyn's. These weren't just "spills"; they were high-stakes tests of his own engineering.
The naming convention of his bikes - the SS80 and the SS100 - carried a heavy weight of responsibility. The SS80 was guaranteed by the factory to be capable of 80 mph, while the SS100 was guaranteed to hit the ton. In an era where most road traffic still involved actual horses or slow-moving utility vehicles, these speeds were astronomical.
While our mission at Janus focuses more on the joy of the ride and the sensory experience of the machine rather than pure top-end velocity, we share that dedication to a specific "feel." Brough wanted his bikes to lope along at 80 mph with ease. We want our bikes to provide a mechanical honesty that makes 55 mph feel like a symphony. It is about defining the parameters of excellence for your specific niche and then meeting them every single time a bike rolls off the line.
The Power of the Story
Perhaps the greatest lesson George Brough left behind wasn't mechanical, but cultural. He was a master of narrative. The story of how Brough Superior became the Rolls-Royce of Motorcycles is a masterclass in branding.
As the story goes, Rolls-Royce was notoriously protective of its name and initially looked unfavorably upon Brough’s use of the comparison. George supposedly kitted out his entire workshop staff in white gloves and ensured the floors were spotless before the Rolls-Royce executives arrived for an inspection. Suitably impressed by the "precision" and cleanliness of the operation, they allegedly gave him their blessing.
Whether that story is entirely true or a bit of "Broughian expansion," as some of his former employees suggested, is almost beside the point. The story became the reality. Brough understood that a motorcycle is more than a transportation device; it is a lifestyle, a community, and a point of pride. This is why figures like T.E. Lawrence—Lawrence of Arabia—owned seven of them. He wasn't just buying a bike; he was participating in George Brough’s vision of what a motorcycle could be.
Small Production, Large Impact
There is a unique pressure that comes with being a small manufacturer. When George Brough was injured in his various racing accidents, the company nearly folded. The weight of the brand rested on his shoulders. We understand that gravity. Every owner who walks through our doors or joins us for the Ramblers Roundup is a vital part of our ecosystem.
Brough Superior owners were so dedicated that some reportedly offered skin grafts to George after a particularly nasty crash. While we certainly hope our relationship with our riders never requires medical intervention, that level of devotion is the ultimate goal. It comes from transparency, shared passion, and a refusal to compromise on the "look and feel" of the machine.
Looking back at 1919 and the birth of Brough Superior reminds us that the challenges of starting a motorcycle company are timeless. Today, the "calcified" nature of the industry makes it hard to break through, but the formula for success remains the same:
- Have a clear, uncompromising vision.
- Focus on the beauty of the mechanical form.
- Build a community around the experience of riding.
- Be an "inveterate tinkerer" who never stops asking "what if?"
The Enduring Legacy
Brough Superior eventually ceased production of motorcycles in the early 1940s, transitioning to other engineering work, but the impact of those twenty-odd years of production remains. Today, those machines are some of the most sought-after collector items in the world, fetching prices that George Brough could never have imagined.
They endure because they were built with a soul. They were built by a man who loved horses, loved women, and loved the open road. They were built for people like T.E. Lawrence, who found solace in the mechanical rhythm of a V-twin.
As we continue to grow at Janus, we keep these lessons close. We aren't trying to build the next SS100, but we are trying to capture that same spirit of independent manufacturing. We want to create something that, decades from now, will be remembered not just for how fast it went, but for how it made the rider feel. Whether you are rambling on a 50cc Vespa or a high-performance vintage twin, the goal is the same: to find that "rich dark nothing" of the open road and rejoice.
The world of motorcycling is a long, winding gyre. Trends come and go, technology evolves, and speeds increase. But the core of the experience—the connection between the rider, the machine, and the landscape—remains unchanged. George Brough knew it in 1920, and we know it today in Goshen. Keep rambling, keep sipping, and keep the rubber side down.
