Iconic British Brand CCM Motorcycles Heads to Auction — And Why No One Has Picked Up the Pieces
When news broke that CCM Motorcycles had entered administration, it landed with a heavy thud across the British motorcycling world. Not because CCM was a volume giant or a global powerhouse—but because it represented something increasingly rare: a stubbornly independent British manufacturer that built motorcycles its own way, in its own backyard, for riders who valued character over convenience.
Now, with its remaining motorcycles, tooling, parts, and factory equipment heading under the auction hammer, CCM’s story appears to have reached a definitive full stop. But the deeper question remains: how did it come to this—and why has no one stepped in to save the name?
A Legacy Built on Dirt, Ingenuity, and Stubborn Independence
CCM—short for Clews Competition Machines—was founded in 1971 by Alan Clews, a former motocross racer and engineer who built bikes because he couldn’t buy what he wanted. That origin story shaped everything CCM became.
The early bikes were lightweight, competitive, and brutally simple. CCM carved out a reputation in motocross, trials, and enduro when British bikes were otherwise being steamrolled by Japanese engineering. The formula was never about mass production. It was about agility, adaptability, and building motorcycles that worked in the real world.
That DNA survived into the modern era. Models like the Spitfire Scrambler, the Heritage ‘71, and various limited-run specials leaned heavily into hand-built craftsmanship and British identity. In an industry dominated by global platforms and shared components, CCM deliberately swam against the tide.
The Boutique Manufacturer Trap
By the 2010s, CCM had reinvented itself as a boutique brand. Bikes were assembled by hand in Lancashire. Production numbers were small. Margins were tight. And while the bikes looked fantastic and rode well, the business model was fragile.
Building 300 motorcycles a year sounds respectable—until you realise that compliance costs, emissions regulations, homologation, supplier minimums, and warranty obligations don’t scale down neatly. Euro emissions standards alone crippled many small manufacturers, forcing expensive re-engineering for engines often sourced from third parties.
By 2024–25, production had reportedly dropped to around 150 units annually. That’s not a slowdown—that’s a warning siren. At those numbers, every delay, every supply-chain hiccup, every unsold unit hurts. Badly.
The Administration and Asset Auction
On 26 June 2025, CCM formally entered administration. A few months later, Gateway Auctions Limited acquired the remaining assets, which were sold via an online auction on 23 October 2025.
The catalogue reads like a museum inventory:
-
New and development motorcycles
-
Limited-edition models including the Heritage ‘71
-
Workshop machinery and tooling
-
Spare parts and unfinished components
-
Office equipment and branded memorabilia
Everything is sold as seen. No warranties. No spares guarantees. No factory support.
For collectors, it’s tempting. For riders hoping to keep a CCM on the road long-term, it’s a gamble.
Why No One Has Revived CCM (Yet)
On paper, reviving CCM sounds romantic. In practice, it’s brutally complicated.
First: the economics don’t add up easily.
CCM wasn’t sitting on a global dealer network or a scalable platform. Any buyer would need serious capital to restart production, re-certify models for emissions, rebuild supply chains, and rehire specialist staff. That’s a multi-million-pound commitment before a single bike rolls out.
Second: the brand’s strength is also its weakness.
CCM’s appeal lies in its niche status. Scale it up too much and it loses its soul. Keep it small and the financial risks remain. That balancing act is far harder than simply “bringing the brand back.”
Third: intellectual property and tooling aren’t the same as a business.
Buying assets doesn’t automatically mean buying momentum. Designs, jigs, and frames don’t replace institutional knowledge—the kind that lives in experienced fabricators, engineers, and assemblers. Lose the people, and the bikes become blueprints without hands.
Fourth: the market has moved on.
The retro-scrambler space CCM once occupied is now crowded with factory-backed offerings from Triumph, Ducati, and BMW—brands that can undercut on price and outgun on spec while still trading on heritage.
A Caution from the Community
The British Motorcyclists Federation has rightly urged caution. Anyone buying bikes or parts at auction must understand what they’re not getting: support, updates, or guaranteed parts continuity.
Gateway Auctions has hinted at the possibility of assembling a limited number of motorcycles using existing stock, with some former CCM staff retained. That may keep a few machines alive in the short term—but it’s not a resurrection. It’s a controlled wind-down.
What CCM Leaves Behind
CCM’s demise isn’t a failure of design or passion. It’s a lesson in how unforgiving modern manufacturing has become—especially for independent brands that refuse to compromise.
CCM proved that British motorcycles could still be relevant, distinctive, and desirable without chasing volume. Its bikes weren’t perfect, but they were honest. They rewarded involvement. They felt made, not assembled.
And that’s why this ending hurts.
The Uncomfortable Truth
CCM didn’t die because no one cared. It died because caring isn’t enough anymore. Nostalgia doesn’t pay compliance fees. Heritage doesn’t solve cashflow. And craftsmanship, sadly, doesn’t scale.
Will the CCM name return one day? Possibly. But if it does, it will need more than tooling and trademarks. It will need a buyer who understands why CCM mattered in the first place—and who is prepared to lose money for a while to get it right.
Until then, what remains is history, machinery, and a reminder that in motorcycling, being authentic is noble—but being sustainable is survival.