Nimbus Motorcycle: The Art Deco Danish Classic You've Never Heard Of

Art deco cult icon, the Nimbus motorcycle, was produced from 1919 to 1959 in Denmark. Believing they could build a better motorcycle than those available at the time, entrepreneurs Fisker and Nielsen proved correct. Production first started in 1920, creating a curious and entertaining local motoring hero.

Following the initial prototypes, the core design stayed the same over its four-decade lifetime, barring some minor tweaks and enhancements. Sidecar versions were available and proved very popular. The engineering was advanced for its time: a north-south, inline four-cylinder 746 cc engine with overhead cams drove a three-speed transmission, featuring a left-foot gear change running directly to a shaft drive. Air-cooled and unique, its exposed valves—two per cylinder—chatter away as you ride. While muffler-free, the distinct "pipe squish" gives it a singular exhaust note. Its 22 horsepower was good for the era; you might expect that per cylinder from a modern 750, but a new bike isn't going to come with the same level of cool or character.

The brand boasted the world's first telescopic forks, beating BMW to production by one year. While test versions featured a sprung rear end, production models settled on a fixed rear with sprung, bobber-style seats. Built around an $8 \times 40\text{mm}$ flat bar steel frame running front to back, the bike weighs in at about 185 kilograms. First versions hit 85 km/h, while the final "Sport" editions reached 120 km/h according to marketing literature—although they may have needed a tailwind to achieve it!

The controls' positioning feels familiar to modern riders: left-foot gear change, left-hand clutch, and brakes on the right. It is a layout we all enjoy today, but someone had to be first.

Conventional handlebars were available, but those ever-stylish Danes also attempted something others hadn’t: many models featured a dashboard of sorts, placing the instruments flat on pressed steel handlebars. The entire design seamlessly marries art deco minimalism with affordability. While black and red paint schemes were common, the military drab green looks impossibly good.

Production, however, was a stop-start affair. After launching in 1920, production paused in 1926 following the introduction of a punishing sales tax and a concurrent recession. Bikes were back on the line by 1932, and business rewarded them in the buildup to World War II as the military mechanised. The Nazi occupation of Denmark in 1940 took its toll, and few machines were produced until the war's end. Numbers rebounded afterward, though over its lifespan the company averaged less than one bike per day.

During its run, the Danish military accounted for up to 20% of sales, according to some sources, with the postal service and police forces acting as regular buyers. Ultimately, a lack of ongoing development caught up with the brand, and production came to a permanent halt in 1959 when the army cancelled its contract. A significant contributor to the demise was the plummeting cost of cars; after WWII, a Volkswagen Beetle was actually cheaper than a Nimbus!

Because of that historical government support, spare parts remain plentiful, meaning that over 60 years later, there are still great restoration options for this classic. I visited one of Denmark's specialist repairers—Aarhus Nimbus—in the tiny village of True, just outside Denmark's second city of Aarhus. Hidden away in a garage are shelves and drawers stacked to the ceiling. Carsten Nielsen sits out front, knowing each of the thousands of spares by heart. In a stroke of genius, he sourced the original storage units and some tooling back in 1975. Over 50 years on, I'm guessing he’s known locally as "Mr. Nimbus."

But the fun didn't stop there. We wandered into the neighbour's yard and opened an inauspicious shed, which revealed an entire factory dedicated to the historic bike. Many examples sit at the entrance, most awaiting repair. They are fantastic-looking historic machines that truly deserve their place in history. My favourites feature sidecars, all finished with a hand-painted coachline for extra style.

I was treated to a startup of one bike in for repair. After a few manoeuvres with a screwdriver and the twist of a key, it fired into life. The open valves clattered away to that old, unique exhaust note that originally earned the bike its nickname: "The Bumblebee." If you are interested, you can hear it for yourself via this Instagram clip.

For a single-design motorcycle, it boasts one of the longest production spans in history, heavily sustained by the Danish military's ongoing purchases. When the company wrapped up in 1959, the military even ordered 10 years' worth of parts to ensure its fleet could continue running into the 1970s.

Decades later, their popularity endures, and that's where Mr. Nimbus comes in. He buys up bikes and parts, storing components and restoring machines as needed. The bikes have a solid reputation for reliability, so when they do need work, it's usually just due to age or—as with two examples I saw—accident repair. He specialises in speedometers, cables, and minor repairs, while keeping stocks of cranks and cams. These parts are becoming rare, and if he's out, you might have to get one custom-fabricated. Luckily, he holds many of the original tooling designs.

I understand there are two of these gems down in New Zealand—one being a very rare "stovepipe" pre-production model. I'm sure they're still running, but if they ever need help, I bet their owners will be contacting Mr. Nimbus in Denmark.

Footnote:

The Nimbus name lives on in a very different way. The same founders, Nielsen and Fisker, also created the world's first vacuum cleaner, the Nilfisk. It follows more or less the same original design, with a few modern updates, of course. I bet there are plenty of parts for those, too.

Words and Photos: Tim Warren