When it comes to motorcycle collecting, Michael FitzSimons of Greenwich, Conn., is well qualified. The 75-year-old collector has spent nearly four decades of his life influenced and motivated by a resounding passion for motorcycles—in particular, Brough Superiors. That passion served as a catalyst to a two-year consulting role at Sotheby’s in 2000 and a four-year consulting role at Bonhams in 2002, both of which led to the establishment of motorcycle departments at each auction house. But FitzSimons’ approach to collecting is not defined by an insatiable desire for more; it’s dictated by a commitment to own the very best. "Keep in mind that you’re ascending a pyramid toward an apex," he says, describing the philosophy that permeates the core of collecting. "So really, the ultimate collection consists of one piece.

"That’s an absurdity," he quickly adds, but he proposes the notion only to make a point that quality always should trump quantity. "I’ve always turned over my collection, but whenever I acquired a pinnacle piece, I’ve held onto it."

That approach has led FitzSimons to cull his collection to four motorcycles, and while that may be a modest number, the collection is far from modest once the significance of each bike is revealed. The first exceptional Brough Superior that FitzSimons acquired was, fittingly, the first Brough Superior SS 100 ever built. Boasting serial number 001, the bike, which FitzSimons purchased from a British doctor in 1983, was the first Brough-built motorcycle to include an overhead-valve, 1,000 cc engine designed by J.A. Prestwich. It was a noteworthy development at the time, given that Prestwich had set a world speed record earlier that year. "It was a bike that you could buy and right out of the box, you could go over 100 mph and beat almost everybody," FitzSimons says. "That’s what put Brough on the map."

After he conceived the Superior SS 100 in 1924, George Brough decided to participate in the Alpine Tour, an eight-day racing event through the Australian Alps. It was his intention to use the event to market his machines, so Brough commissioned his chief engineer, Harold Karslake, to custom-build a machine that would outperform the competition. Brough called the completed vehicle the Alpine Grand Sport, and 60 years later, FitzSimons discovered that the prototype that Brough had raced through the Australian Alps belonged to an officer in the Indian army. After buying it from that officer, FitzSimons had the bike examined by the Brough Superior machine registrar, who positively identified it as the matching-numbers bike that had once belonged to George Brough and declared it "bloody marvelous."

FitzSimons’ other two motorcycles include an SS 100 that Dunlop purchased in 1928 to commemorate its 40th anniversary—a bold and expensive thing for a tire company to do in those days, according to FitzSimons—while the other is one of seven Matchless–engine Brough Superior SS 100s that were ordered by the Sheffield Constabulary in 1939. Outfitted to be a police bike, the motorcycle is unique, according to FitzSimons, for the period in which it was delivered. At the time, England had been a regular target of Nazi bombing missions, and yet, despite the country’s war effort, the Sheffield Constabulary ordered a fleet of very expensive motorcycles. "One would have thought that for a work bike they would have ordered a lesser machine, a side-valve," he says. "But they didn’t. These bikes were three or four times the cost of any other bike. Why they bought them is beyond me, but they did, and I’m glad that they did."

Despite such a concentration of trophy bikes, FitzSimons’ collection wasn’t always this focused. "I’ve owned the occasional American bike in my time," he says. "I’ve probably owned a dozen of them over the years." But it was when FitzSimons began riding British bikes as a college student at the University of Michigan in the early 1950s that he found his tastes and interests starting to change.

In the beginning, FitzSimons, who proudly considers himself an Anglophile, was attracted to a variety of British marques—mostly Triumphs, Nortons, and Vincents—but it was when he discovered Broughs in the early 1970s that his path as a collector dramatically changed. "There’s always this learning curve in collecting," he says. "You’re kind of bewildered at first. It took me several years to learn about Broughs; what they are and what they aren’t. Once I learned, I lost interest in all my other British bikes. The camshaft Nortons and the Vincent Shadows … they all just paled away. You have to be obsessed to be a collector, and I became obsessed with Broughs."

For FitzSimons, it was George Brough’s early commitment to the personalization of each of his motorcycles and the fact that they were all hand-built that made the difference. "He would tailor a bike to you," FitzSimons says of Brough, highlighting the fact that no other British motorcycle manufacturer was doing that to the same degree. "He would fit the bike to you based on how good you were as a rider."

FitzSimons also will tell you that he discovered and acquired his current fleet of Brough Superiors at an opportune time. "Provenance 30 years ago wasn’t as significant as it is today," he says. "Matching numbers wasn’t nearly as significant. Only in the last decade and a half has provenance really become dominant." And while he says that today, a Brough Superior SS 100 is valued at more than $300,000. FitzSimons finds it irrelevant to talk about the value of his own collection or what he had to pay to acquire each bike within it. "I hate to talk price," he says. "The price has nothing to do with why I got interested in them."

But FitzSimons is willing to part with his collection. Fifteen years ago, as he celebrated his 60th birthday, FitzSimons owned 30 motorcycles. But with that birthday came the revelation that his time to enjoy and appreciate the bikes in his collection was finite. Since then, he’s made a conscious effort to streamline his collection, making sure that each bike is sold to an enthusiast who shares his passion. "I’m 75 and my hope is that they, the Broughs, find a good home before I get put in one," he jokes. "You don’t own them; you just keep them for a while and then pass them on to someone else. He who dies with the least toys wins."