A conversation with Robb Talbott of the Moto Talbott Collection
Robb Talbott stands with his beloved MV Agusta motorcycles.
Words + Photos: Mike Blanchard
The Moto Talbott Collection is a private museum located in Carmel Valley, California. The collection primarily features the motorcycle collection of owner Robb Talbott but also includes other items of significance to Talbott and his life story as well as a motorcycle or two that friends have loaned him to display.
He was recently given the go-ahead by Monterey County to reopen the museum after a year of being closed, and the occasion seemed like a good time to sit down and talk about motorcycles, collecting and his plans for the museum going forward. So on a sunny Thursday I rode my ’74 BMW R90/6 down the River Road from Sacramento, skirted San Jose and on out Carmel Valley.
The museum, a low L shaped building with a big shady porch wrapping around both sides, sits behind large oaks lining the road.
Talbott, 73, and I sat down in his spacious office in the museum on the day after the Moto Talbott Collection reopened. Willie Nelson and the Eagles played over the stereo as we looked out into the sunshine and talked.
Not only has he had to deal with COVID shutdowns and restrictions, but one of the huge fires that California suffered in 2020 came very close to burning down Carmel Village. As a result, Talbott was in a reflective mood and willing to be open about his history with motorcycles, his thoughts about the last year and what a relief it was to finally reopen the museum to the public.
The Moto Talbott Collection has a laid-back vibe that belies just what a serious collection it is. There are world-class bikes here. Almost the first thing you see upon entering is the ’57 world-championship-winning FB Mondial 125cc dustbin-faired bike.
I have run into a who’s-who of the moto world hanging out there including champion racers Kenny Roberts, Kenny Roberts Jr., Wayne Rainey, Eddy Lawson, Bubba Shobert as well as fellow collectors, custom motorcycle builders and designers.
Roberts and Rainey have displayed some of their collections, including bikes on which they won championships, in the museum.
The Collection includes significant examples of rare motorcycles from around the world, but Talbott is in love with Italian bikes, especially MV Agusta. He estimates that he has 22 MVs ranging from small-bore ’50s grand prix bikes to the factory Bonneville F4 racer and his newest addition, an F4 Senna. He has been told it is one of the largest collections of MV Agusta in the U.S..
Talbott was an avid cyclist for years, and there is a great collection of bicycles hanging on the walls. There are display cases of model cars and motorcycles and the engine from a B-17 bomber, and unconventional motorcycles that probably would not be included in other collections but are a reflection of who Robb Talbott is and where his interests lie. The diversity is what makes the museum so interesting. The Moto Talbott is not just a soulless collection of machinery. It is a reflection of an artistic and curious mind.
The overall effect is of a comfortable clubhouse where all are welcome. It is a place for people to tell their stories and learn about motorcycle history and that is just the way Robb Talbott likes it.
Ultra rare 1925 BMW R37 Rennsport. Note the wooden rear brake shoe acting on a dummy rim.
How was the last year?
“It was depressing. They told us it would be for three weeks and then … It was depressing. I didn’t build this to close it.”
I’m sure you made some changes while you were closed. What’s new?
“Well, the Senna, Gary Nixon’s Triumph Thruxton. I got rid of eight bikes I was tired of. We’re not restoring anymore. Unless you are going to keep it you can’t make any money restoring bikes. You’ll never be able to get your money out of it. But It feels good to be open.”
Gary Nixon’s Triumph racer is new addition to the museum’s main room.
How was it during the fires?
“This summer the fire was a mile from this building. Can you imagine how terrified I was? The fire was only a mile up the road. It was scary. We removed the really significant bikes. As the fire was getting closer we called Wayne and Kenny and had them come get their bikes. I didn’t want to be responsible for something happening to their bikes.”
And you’ve gone through it already. You had to bury your BMW to save it from fire.
“That was down the coast; the Sobranes fire. Fires are a part of living in California. We’re going to have another bad year. They’re already saying it’s going to be as bad as last year. It was 2 million acres. It’s still a beautiful state to live in, but the politics are rough and it’s an expensive state. We pay for the beauty.
What is your favorite of the new stuff?
“The SIS, from Portugal. It was crusty but absolutely original and complete. The bike has to be complete for me to want to have it. Nobody has one of these.
I’m guessing you have never seen one of these. A rare Sachs SIS made in Portugal is a new addition to the Collection. The bike was restored in-house.
“I love unusual, I love patina and I love rare. I have 170 bikes from 17 countries. I have bikes from everywhere. This is what I love: history. I’m not interested in a lot of trailer queens. Come look at this.”
Talbott walks out of his office through the shop and up to a well-used late model BMW GS covered in stickers and dirt, battered but still capable. One of his friends rode the bike from Santa Fe to Tierra Del Fuego, crashing 35 times along the way.
“There is only one of these. If you restored it, it would just be any old GS. Look, he marked the hand guards every time he crashed it; crashed more on the left. Look at this: I’ll never change it.
“It has to be unusual, different. I didn’t want 100 Harleys or 100 Triumphs or 100 Hondas. If I fall in love with something I put it in (the collection). What we build we build with passion. These creations are a reflection of who we are.
“I studied art and design at Colorado College. I raced bikes but I never saw them as art. They were just something to race and when they broke, get a new one.’”
Talbott holds up a copy of the companion book for the landmark 1998 Guggenheim exhibit, “The Art Of The Motorcycle.”
“’The Art Of The Motorcycle’ was the catalyst. For the first time I saw them as art, I said, ‘I’m going to build a museum from scratch.’
“We have the Bonneville racer, the liter bike; they showed it from the rear as you entered the Guggenheim, with the curves, the booty shot. The four pipes are just incredible. That is pretty much the newest bike we have except the Senna. This book validated the beauty of the motorcycle for me.
Two of Talbott’s favorite books: the “Art Of The Motorcycle” and the “MV Agusta F4” book. These books are central to his passion for collecting.
“Another incredible book is this, the MV F4 book. There are so many pictures in here. The original design and what it took to get this on the road. And it’s the world’s most beautiful motorcycle.”
Not the 916?
“Hahaha! They both are, together.”
They’re both Tamburini.
“Those are the two prettiest, the 916 and the F4. But you know, my 916 is downstairs. (ed.: Talbott’s F4 is right by the door ready to go.)
I have always thought as far as post-war bikes go, the late ’60s Triumph Bonneville is one of the best-looking bikes.
“Yeah, they’re beautiful; they’re really pretty. The Brits did fabulous work.
Amazing graphics on the tank of an MV Raid 250.
“But the MV, the flags on the Raid 250, that says it all. Because you know, 57 championships and Ago and Phil Read.
“I have the bike that Phil had made for his son. When he won the championships in ’76, ’75, he had MV build that in the factory. It’s a Moto Morini 49cc. The factory built that bike. They built three sizes: eight-inch wheel, 10-inch wheel and the 12-inch, which was a shifter, four speeds. They’re so rare. What company ever did that to celebrate the beauty of that four-cylinder that Phil won on? So I’ve got all three of them; took me 10 years. I have all three sizes.”
How many did they make?
“It’s unclear. The figure that comes up the most is 300.”
They were made in the race shop?
“Yeah, they built them in the shop. Phil Read’s son was supposedly 10 years old when Phil Sr., who had just won the championship, gave him one for his first bike. Phil Read Jr. came in here. He wasn’t 10; he was 4. Four years old when he was given that bike. And he rode the hell out of it. I interviewed him when he came in. He showed me the one he had, the 10-inch.
All three models of Mini MV Agustas that celebrated Phil Read’s championship. They came in three sizes with eight inch, 10 inch and 12 inch wheels. Read originally had one made for his son Phil Jr. and the factory ended up producing some 300 of them.
“Why do I like that marque? I was intrigued by its beauty; I was intrigued by its race history, which was phenomenal. There was something about that. It was winning and winning all over Europe. And of course, Phil Read. And then they went dead until ’98 and then the F4 came out. It’s an intoxicating story. And seeing those flags (on the tank of the 250 Raid) laid out … ’nuf said.
“It’s art, it’s Italian style, it’s their history.”
If you had your choice, a vintage bike or a new bike?
“Well, I ride ’em like you do but I have three crushed discs. So when I ride my Senna it’s a 20-minute bike. When I rode it from Sedona I hurt for three days. I have my GS, I have my Multi Strada, so if I ride to Colorado like I did two months ago I’ve got to be on a newer bike. But I’m drawn to the vintage bikes because they are so beautiful and this place is full of them.
“I love my old Ducati (a ’98 900SS) because it’s a sexy bike and it sounds good. It’s known for being, not the fastest bike, but known for being just a great bike. I’ve had it four years. I had it on the track three years with Reg (Pridmore) and I just had a ball. That is one of my favorites: the noise, the way it’s set up; that’s my baby, number 48. So I wrecked it. We redid all the fairings and I said, ‘No, I’m not going to sell it.’ I left the Staintune; you saw all the posts where it’s totally destroyed.”
That’s your history with the bike and it makes it all the more dear to you.
“Exactly, without history it’s just a bike. And that’s why you love your R90.”
Plus if you’re out racing you know you’re going to drop it. So if you’re not prepared for that …
“You shouldn’t be out there. Hahaha, of course. Well, I made it three and a half years. What got me was a two-day event. I had a really good Saturday and then the next day came and I thought, ‘I got this baby figured out.’ And I dropped it at 11:45 the second morning. I was going faster and faster: 45 feet, low side in turn two. … I’m doing about 115 over the hill, the blind one. There’s two different apexes and I took the far one and tried to come in. Bang! Low side, thank God.
“I was just thinking, where do we get the love that goes into our veins? When I raced motocross that was huge. I wasn’t a podium guy; I did the best I could. I was not first or second, I was behind, but I did my own hauling, wrenching, riding, tuning, and then hauling back at night after you crashed, back to Colorado Springs or Boulder or wherever.
“But the event that went into my blood was racing Pike’s Peak in the snow. That’s the one that went into my DNA, and I swear I have Pikes Peak in my DNA: America’s mountain, that big hunk of granite. I still remember starting at 25 degrees and not being cold at all, pure adrenaline, and then at the top it was minus 32 and we had to wait for the slowest rider. We all got hypothermia coming down.
“There has to be a pivotal event to absolutely engage the love of riding. That was in 1971 and that was it.”
Did you keep riding the whole time?
“No, I got a green sticker XR, which is a cool bike, and we were up at Arnold, and I did all the four-stroke stuff throwing the back end out, spewing gravel and jumping, which is fun. And then I raised three kids and I didn’t want to see them ride. Then when it got to ’98 I said, ‘Hell with it, I’m going back.’
“Of course, I rode bicycles, hundreds of miles, thousands of miles in between. In ’01 I bought one of the new Meriden Bonnies, and that was great, and then I bought an Aprillia liter bike and then started to collect Triumphs again and then got really into it.
“I started in 1964 on a borrowed bike and my parents said, ‘Too dangerous. You can’t have a motorcycle.’ So when I was 17 I went to Colorado College and cars weren’t allowed so I immediately bought the little Honda Trail 50. (This bike is still in Talbott’s hands and is displayed in the museum). And then no bike is fast enough so I just kept going up. I had about 15 bikes before I sold. So it didn’t work; sorry mom. Yeah, it’s dangerous; yeah, I crashed but I would not take any of those crashes away from my life.
You learn something from them. We need danger in our lives, as organisms. If I put my grandson in my hot rod. He loves it. He says, “Go faster, Papa.”
“Kids love speed. It keeps us alive. Otherwise we’re sedentary. When I go over the grade and there are no cars I just get into that rhythm and I come out with a giant grin. Goes all the way through the soul. There’s just something about riding. We need it.”
The Collection includes scramblers and dirt bikes as well as road models.
What have you been riding?
“Well, the Senna. I have the three Ducs: the Scrambler, the SS, the Multi and I have the BMW, the Black Widow R100S.
“The best route for me is: I go out G-16 and take Central to King City and then Bitter Water over to 25 and you can go north or south on 25 and it’s a good route. You can go fast, but I’m slowing down now. I don’t want to hit a deer. The valley is full of deer. You can hit a deer during the day. You just don’t want to do that.”
With a museum one of the things that makes it so interesting is that it is a reflection of the collector.
“Everyone who does a museum reflects what they love. I have pedal cars here. I have a B-17 motor. What the fuck! I have bicycles. Well, I like bicycles; I like B-17s. I like a barn-find room, so I went ahead and built (the shop) you could never get into out at some crusty guy’s out on the plains. He’s got a shotgun; you want to look in his barn; he won’t let you, so I built one you can look into. Took the glass out so you can smell the oil.
“If we’re lucky enough we do what we love. And if we’re lucky people like what we share. It’s just fun to see the people light up, and then we get all the stories from the people, which is more fun than us telling our stories because we get to hear their stories.
The amazing aerodynamic shape of the 1957 FB Mondial 125cc grand prix race bike.
“You’re really lucky if you’re docenting and somebody starts to tell stories about their bikes and when they started. You just shut up and you listen and it’s wonderful.”
This opening after you’ve been closed for a year seems like a rebirth. You’ve got new bikes and staff. Do you see the museum in a different way? Did you re-conceptualize anything?
“It’s a rebirth; it’s a rebirth. I’ve done a lot of thinking. I see it a little bit differently. We’ve made a fair number of changes. As I said we’re not doing restorations anymore. It never pencils.
“The reopening was almost anticlimactic because I never knew when it was going to reopen. And when they got the OK it came so quickly I said, ‘We’ve got to run.’ We had to do all this stuff, so the last two weeks have been really busy.
“I see the importance of sharing with people. Especially with the youth. We don’t have enough youth on bikes. I was here while we were closed, but when the lights when on and the heater came on I was blown away with my own creation. It had dimmed in my mind. Cause you can’t share. It’s so important to be able to share.
“Except for a few private tours over the year, the place was closed. So I was blown away by what I had done in the last five years. So that was neat. The first 18 people that came in yesterday was so exciting to see.”
It had to have been a big relief.
“I was scared. It wasn’t sustainable closed. You can’t just have a museum closed. You’re not educating people. I was warned that I might have to close it, and that sits on your shoulders and it’s kind of scary. It would be so depressing to close it after all the work you have put in. I was worried.
“Our children don’t want our possessions. They don’t want our collections. They’re not interested in them”
“We laugh about the golden years. You know you retire and get your crappy watch. Well, I’m not going to retire. These are the golden years? And we have COVID on top of everything else. I just want to share. I’m still trying to figure out a succession plan.”
It’s something to think about. You have a significant thing here.
“How do I keep it running? Do you know a big daddy bucks who would love to run this? It wouldn’t be that much. I can’t run it forever.”
Are you just going to keep going until something happens?
“’Til something happens, I guess. I’m not George Barber; I don’t have his money. I don’t have 150 employees. The kids don’t have the interest in history that you have in your bike for example. That’s a storied bike you’re riding right now. The kids don’t know about the R90, what it meant to BMW.”
A lot of young people don’t want to have things. They want to have experiences. I have a number of friends who have built amazing collections of things. And everybody is saying: “What will I ever do with this? My kids don’t want it.”
“We’re all having the same discussion. It’s scary. I go to Vegas and all the white-hairs, we’re still buying and selling. But the kids don’t want to buy or collect. They don’t want to read.
Talbott loves the fact that these BMW GS models still wear their history.
“So what do we do to keep our dreams going? We could all be in the room with a glass of bourbon and we would all say the same thing: ‘Our children don’t want our possessions. They don’t want our collections; they’re not interested in them.’ These are historical things whether it’s bikes, cars whatever. What do we do? We’re all looking for the same answer.”
These are the thoughts of your age.
“Reg Pridmore tried to sell his class, a couple times, and it fell apart so he’s back running it. He’s 79; he needs somebody to come and take it over. We’re all in the same boat.”
Are you too attached to it? Does it really matter after you’re gone?
“Well, no; you’re dead. Hahaha. But it matters to me while I’m alive. Good question. Of course it matters. The headline: ‘Today the Talbott Collection closed.’ I don’t want to see that happen. ’cause then the sharing stops.
“Say some guy comes in and buys all the bikes; they go into his warehouse for his trophies and the doors shut except for his best friends. The sharing stops. I love history. I want this history to go on. So these are my thoughts. This has been a hard year for me thinking about that kind of stuff.”
What are you looking forward to this year?
“Riding the Senna for a week all over.”
You are a sucker for the torture.
“Hahaha! You touch that seat out there and you go, ‘My word! Are you nuts?’
“I want to travel with my wife. … We want to go to Las Vegas; we like Yellowstone, too, so we might end up in the Bitter Roots, Darby, Hamilton. I love the Old West.
“If you want to make me happy you’ll say: ‘Robb, grab your bike; we’re going to Darby, Montana, and I’ll take you on all the roads I know and we’re going to spend a week on a motorcycle.’ That’s heaven for me. That is heaven.”