The Van Veen OCR 1000 - The Dutch Rotary Superbike

In the 1970s, Suzuki showed that a Wankel rotary engine could power a production motorcycle. Inspired by that success, Dutch manufacturer Henk van Veen set out to build something far more extreme. The result was the Van Veen OCR 1000, a superbike built around a car-derived rotary engine and engineered with almost no regard for compromise.

What made the Van Veen unique was not simply that it used a rotary engine. Several manufacturers experimented with Wankels during the decade. What set the OCR 1000 apart was how far it pushed the idea. Instead of a small, purpose-built motorcycle rotary, Van Veen installed a full two-rotor automotive engine, chasing smoothness, power, and prestige rather than practicality. It was less an experiment and more a declaration.

Henk van Veen’s Big Swing

The mastermind behind the OCR 1000 was Henk van Veen, an Amsterdam-based importer of Kreidler motorcycles with deep racing credentials in the 50 cc class. He had already tasted success, but small bikes were not the endgame. The launch of the Honda CB750 had effectively invented the modern superbike, and Van Veen wanted in.

His weapon of choice was the rotary engine.

By 1974, he unveiled a prototype at the Cologne Motorcycle Show. The reaction was enthusiastic enough that Van Veen committed to production. This was not a concept bike meant to draw crowds and vanish. This was meant to be bought, ridden, and lived with.

That decision would prove both heroic and ruinous.

Borrowing a Heart from a Failed Car

Van Veen sourced his engine from Comotor, the joint venture between Citroën and NSU. The same two-rotor unit used in the Citroën GS Birotor was adapted for motorcycle duty.

On paper, it was spectacular.

• Equivalent displacement: 1000 cc

• Power output: 100 horsepower

• Torque delivery: relentlessly smooth

• Cooling: liquid-cooled

• Gearbox: Porsche-designed

• Final drive: shaft

• Brakes: triple Brembo disc setup

This was exotic hardware in an era when most motorcycles were still figuring out how to stop properly. While other rotary bikes leaned heavily on conventional motorcycle components, the OCR 1000 borrowed freely from the automotive world, treating the motorcycle like a high-performance luxury machine rather than a mass-market product.

For context, the mighty Kawasaki Z900 produced roughly 82 horsepower. The Van Veen claimed 135 mph and delivered its power without vibration or drama.

It was not just fast. It was refined.

A Superbike That Cost Like a Supercar

The problem was everything else.

The OCR 1000 weighed nearly 700 pounds. It drank fuel at roughly 20 miles per gallon. Its six-gallon tank emptied quickly, and the rotary consumed oil with similar enthusiasm, nearly two pints every 500 miles.

Then there was the price.

At $15,000 in the late 1970s, roughly $65,000 today, it cost double a BMW R100. This was not a bike for commuters or casual riders. It was a statement object, purchased by people like Malcolm Forbes and Gunter Sachs, men who collected engineering curiosities the way others collected watches.

Van Veen obsessed over finish and detail. The bike looked ahead of its time, understated but unmistakably expensive. Unfortunately, precision costs money, and so does fuel, and so does oil, and so does supporting an engine platform that the automotive world had already abandoned.

Oil Crisis, Bad Timing, and a Brutal End

The Comotor rotary engine was launched just as the 1973 oil crisis hit. Citroën’s GS Birotor collapsed instantly. Only 847 cars were sold. Citroën later attempted to buy them back and destroy them to avoid long-term support costs.

Van Veen pressed on anyway.

Production officially began in 1978. By 1981, it was over.

Comotor ceased operations after nearly bankrupting NSU and Citroën. Without engines, the OCR 1000 could not continue. Only 38 motorcycles were ever built.

The dream evaporated as quietly as it had appeared.

See More Rotary Motorcycles in Person

The Van Veen OCR 1000 was not alone in chasing the rotary dream. Other manufacturers took different paths, with very different results. You can see that contrast firsthand alongside machines like the Norton Commander and the Hercules Wankel 2000 as part of the rotary engine exhibit at the Tampa Bay Automobile Museum.

Together, these bikes tell the full rotary story. From uncompromising ambition to practical adaptation to quiet commercial failure, they capture a brief era when engineers believed the future of motorcycles might spin instead of piston.