To the uninitiated, that large accumulation decorating the far wall of my office is just a stack of musty old magazines, but I cherish them. They're time machines, able to whisk me back to yesteryear with the flick of a page. With volumes dating all the way back to the 1920s, it's fascinating to note how things have developed. While early testers covered themselves in heavy overcoats and leather skullcaps, by the late '60s the trend had shifted to a nefarious combination of button-down short sleeves and polyester knits flapping in the breeze. So while techniques and terminology differ, each era shares this commonality: all asked for bigger, better and faster.

It was during that period, when Gary Nixon was riding for Triumph and Honda's biggest bike was a 450 twin, that the Moto Guzzi V7 made its debut. Described by moto-journos as a "gigantic" machine, the V700 appeared on the cusp of an exciting new era for motorcycling. But what those scribes and reporters couldn't predict was the far-reaching impact the V7 would have on the industry. And while Guzzi's new big twin made good on its mission to save the company from certain extinction, history would show that the V700 accomplished much more.

Forty-four years ago the consumer motorcycle market was in turmoil, due in large part to the popularity of the compact automobile. While this was certainly the case in Europe, the situation was greatly magnified in the auto-crazy US, where acceptance of motorcycles as a valid form of transportation came much later. Forced to deal with this new set of circumstances was a host of European manufacturers, many of which depended upon the support of military and police agencies for sales support. But Guzzi, which had traditionally fielded such contracts without competition faced a double-dose of reality with the realization that its aging Falcone 500 single was obsolete. Thus, the Italian Ministry of Internal Affairs placed before these struggling local makers a contest. This time, the battleground was the drafting board, not the racetrack. Two general parameters were issued: 100,000 km of serviceable use, and availability by 1966.

To lead this project Guzzi turned to its brightest star, ex racing chief Giulio Cesare Carcano, who had designed some of the most successful and dynamic motorcycles in GP history. Vastly underrated, Carcano's personal belief that aerodynamics and suspen- ME/30 SPRING 2004 ^ Plenty of real steel on the V700, like these Peterbuilt-tough battery covers. (right) 'Borletti' car-like speedometer illustrates V7's automotive influence. Alloy housing is thick, mimicking the V7's built-for-a-lifetime-like quality. Note brazed faring supports, fashioned, according to owner Steve Spreter, "when people still made things." sion should be developed before horsepower earned respect from riders and foes alike. When Moto Guzzi had extracted all it could from its DOHC 500cc GP single, Carcano (assisted by Umberto Todero) unveiled the awesome 500cc V8, a design so advanced it remains a technical tour de force.

Some time back, it became chic for smart-ass journalists and misinformed authors to link the V7's alloy lump with the engine fitted the failed Autoveicolo da Montagna, or mechanical mule 3x3 utility tractor. Designed by Antonio Micucci, a two-stroke specialist who joined Guzzi during WWII, the 3x3 did indeed use a 90- degree twin, but one that featured different crankcases and heads. It wasn't even Guzzi's first 90 degree-twin, that being an air-cooled 500cc unit for the Fiat 500 automobile. Kudos to Greg Field (assisted by Moto Guzzi historian/M-E contributor, Ivar de Gier) for laying that tired old rumor to rest in his book Moto Guzzi Big Twins.

Designed and built in straightforward fashion, the V7 -not to be confused with Lino Tonti's later V7 Sport - was a far cry from the lightweight, streamlined racers Carcano was known for. Instead, the V7 aimed for durability and ease of service, characteristics that clinched the contract for Moto Guzzi. In fact, the only other machine considered was the Ducati Apollo, a rather amazing 1250cc V4 using four carbs on its now familiar L-cylinder layout. Designed by Fabio Taglioni, the Apollo was deemed excessively complex and expensive, and was too powerful for the tires of the era. Later however, Taglioni would pare off two of those cylinders, giving Ducati a very 'workable' design of its own….

The first V7 prototypes were assembled during 1964, shortly before the death of founder Carlo Guzzi who had given the project his blessing. Micucci and Ing Soldavini, both involved on the 3x3 assisted the V7's project leaders Carcano and Todero. Fashioning a double-downtube cradle frame using steel tubing, the assembly was tied together with a large, 48mm backbone. Designed to offer easy access to the drivetrain, the chassis gave the V7 a strong, purposeful look, while the steel-sheathed 35mm front teles made it appear even more so. And while the prototype showed similarly covered rear shocks hooked to the V7's traditional pivoting swingarm, production machines arrived with the springs exposed. Riding on twin Borrani alloy rims, the V7 used large (for the day) 4.00" x 18" tires on both ends, with a full-width 220mm dual leading shoe drum on the front and a single-leading-shoe drum on the back.

Spinning inside the right swingarm tube is the V7's shaft drive, starting a tradition now identified with the Moto Guzzi name. It's attached via an inline u-joint to a four-speed gearbox that takes its power from a very automotive looking twin-plate dry clutch. Measuring 704cc's, the V7 is an oversquare 80 x 70mm with four-ring pistons running in hardchrome plated bores. Introduced as an upscale feature, if the surface was damaged (or flaked-off, which most did over time) it was usually cheaper to replace the cylinder than attempt to whittle out the ultrahard lining.

Running on plain bearings, the onepiece steel crankshaft drives the V7's camshaft, placed above and in the center of the cylinder splay, via helical gears. Bouncing off the camshaft are four separate pushrods running on the cylinder's insides that act on a matching set of rocker arms. Valve sizes are 38.5mm intake, 34.4 exhaust, with fuel provided by a pair of 29mm SS21 remote-reservoir Dell'Orto carburetors. Fitted with a 12-volt system, the V7 came well equipped for police duty with a 300-watt Marelli generator fixed to the top of the crankcase, and driven off the nose of the crankshaft using a V-belt.

The success of the prototype was soon cooled by economic misfortune. Creditors could wait no longer, and Moto Guzzi went into receivership in February of 1966. A group of Italian bankers known as the IMI took control of the company and immediately sacked the entire workforce, including the legendary Ing. Carcano. Feeling snubbed, Carcano refused to crawl back to the concern he had helped so greatly, and retired. The good news was the arrival of Lino Tonti, the brilliant engineer who would later lift Moto Guzzi to even greater heights.

Tonti's hiring came after a new ownership group (SEIMM) had beenformed. Although Moto Guzzi had been imported with some success into the US, it was the Berliner Group, headed by the brothers Mike and Joe, who would have a profound effect of the direction of the V7. By securing police contracts and solid marketing, Moto Guzzi gained momentum. With the release of updated versions, the 750cc Ambassador and later the 850 Eldorado, Guzzi had regained its identity.

The example illustrated here, courtesy of Steve Spreter at Renaissance Motorcycles in Tucson, is representative of the period. Typical, in that at close inspection it's actually a very different animal than the more popular Ambassador that succeeded it. Built in 1968 and titled as a '69, the V7 stayed on until 1970, remaining available in Europe for military and non-civil use for sixteen more years. The V7 can be spotted by its slimmer fuel tank, longer headlight shell, minimal crankcase webbing and, in this model's case, those somewhat rare "peashooter" mufflers. Atypical for most imported V7s are the accessory leg shields and handlebar fairing that, contrary to what many think, were available for purchase and usually fitted to magistrate models.

So while the editors at Cycle World and Motorcycle Mechanics carried on about the V7's towering presence and substantial girth, the 500-pound Guzzi feels light and narrow, allowing your feet to touch pavement with some knee-bend in reserve. To start, find the V7's twin cam-lever fuel valves, add some choke, stab the throttle twice and twist the key -car fashion- to the right. Once lit, the choke can be rubbed off rather quickly and the Guzzi settles into a gentle, rocking idle.

Showing its vintage, the V7's shift rocker is found under your right foot, so it's heel down and point toward the road. No surprise, the 700cc twin pushes the V7 up toward your desired speed lazily, with plenty of intake honk thrown in for free. Rated at 50bhp, it feels like maybe half of that reaches the back wheel. Police and military units were rated 18hp less, no wonder those guys always looked angry.

The gearbox change-up is widely spaced and rather clunky, but it engages positively and the V7 tracks down the highway in confident fashion. I've sampled many bikes from this vintage, and the V7's stability rates at, or near the top. In many ways, the porky acceleration is a blessing, especially when it's time to stop. The full-width, 300mm front drum feels a bit overmatched, while the back unit will ignore your request for more friction until it's fed up and locks the wheel. Ah, the good old days!

In 1972, or just as the Eldorado was flourishing, Alenjandro De Tomaso engineered a buyout from IMI and literally (if you believe the rumors) brandished a threatening sword towards its production line. Feeling the 'loops' represented the old guard at Moto Guzzi, the last versions limped off the assembly line in 1974. A shame, for the V7 and its siblings had gained a loyal following, serving faithfully for the agencies that purchased them in fleets.

US consumers, especially those involved in the rapidly growing touring market, loved them. The V7 struck a perfect chord, for here was a machine that rivaled the quality of the trusted and revered BMW, while offering the substance and road holding of the Harley Electra Glide. In this writer's opinion, production should have continued in harmony with Tonti's new T-series longer, maintaining the momentum both the Berliners and Moto Guzzi worked too hard to establish. For while Tonti's new frame and design was in most ways superior, a strong bond had been prematurely broken. Many believe that Moto Guzzi has never fully recovered from it.

Although cut short in its prime, the V7 still accomplished much. Besides rescuing the proud Guzzi name it ushered in a whole era of big-bore Italian speedsters, grandfathering some of the most beautiful, passionate and exciting motorcycles the world has ever known. For modern riders, the V7 offers a hearty dose of fat-fendered, real-steel fun, certainly worthy of your time and affection. If, after reading this diatribe, you envision yourself proudly seated on the saddle of one, I'd be honored. Go ahead, relive some of that glorious past when the helmets were metelflake, Castrol came in cans and Flower Power had nothing to do with your local florist. You'll be the better for it. But please, do me a favor and put some pants on. This is getting embarrassing.