The Harley WLA at the National Infantry Museum was a lot prettier than any other WLA I had ever seen, but I wasn’t impressed. It was way over-restored, finished in gloss OD green (something I had never seen on a WLA before). I couldn’t find anything in my research to show that any World War II Harleys might have had such a paint treatment. I found a reference that indicated Army administrative vehicles were sometimes painted gloss OD, but nothing about motorcycles.
Can you say over-restored?Fancy leather. I doubt anyone ever sat in this saddle.The port side of the Harley 45.
I once saw General William Westmoreland’s Cadillac Sedan de Ville in Washington, DC, and it was gloss OD. But WLAs had been out of service long before that, and in any event, when I spoke with General Westmoreland he didn’t mention anything about riding motorcycles. If anyone out there knows anything about WLAs with glossy paint, please leave a comment.
Boy oh boy oh boy! Talk about an interesting barn find! We all have regrets filed under “I shoulda bought that when I had the chance,” and in my case, one of those items is the Harley XR1000. I did a Dream Bikes feature on it a ways back, and as soon as I did, Joe Gresh let me know that he had been planning to do the same (I beat him to it).
I always thought the Sportsters had a cool look, and to me, the XR1000 was cool raised to an exponent. It did what it was supposed to in my mind: It evoked images of Bart Markel drifting around a half mile dirt track (which I actually saw many times at East Windsor Speedway when I was a teenager), and it made me want to be that guy.
On a whim, I typed “XR1000 for sale” on Google, and this popped up. Wow, talk about a barn find!
The ad text says it all:
2,486 ORIGINAL MILE INCREDIBLY ORIGINAL BARN FIND!!! Untouched “barn find” condition very original XR1000 in absolutely amazing condition! Although I am using the term “barn find,” this bike was properly stored in an attached climate controlled garage after being completely serviced and prepared for long term storage, including cylinder fogging, fuel draining, oil change, battery removal, and a full check over and service including: head and valve spring check by the Harley-Davidson dealer race program lead technician (back in the day), fork seals, brake fluid, chain lube, etc. We have tested all non-running systems including front and rear brakes, turned over the engine, lights, starter operation, horn, tires holding air, suspension compliance, etc. and confirmed all to be in proper working order. If the new owner would like us to fill the fuel tank and get the bike running, we would be happy to do that as well, or we will leave it as it is in “barn find” condition. It is up to the buyer’s preference. The condition of all the paint, chrome, and metal is excellent with only dirt and dust covering, no corrosion. The only slight surface corrosion I see is limited to the exhaust heat shields only and could easily be remedied. The rest of any “rust colored” things you may see is simply dirt that I have confirmed in a couple small spots will clean off. Of course, I can’t say the bike will look like brand new with a simple wash after sitting for 20 years, but I am saying the chrome and trim IS NOT corroded. The bike does come complete with 2 keys (one ORIGINAL Harley key), books and manuals, and some records from the Harley Dealership when it was gone through and fully serviced and readied for storage in 2005. The bike also comes with the original longer black mufflers, while the optional accessory shorter less baffled mufflers are currently installed on the bike. We purchased the bike directly from the previous older collector owner as part of a seven Harley-Davidson collection and rolled it out of his garage into our enclosed trailer and brought it here for inspection. I have described everything to the best of my ability and provided lots of detailed photos and information for your consideration. Please feel free to contact Jason for any intelligent unanswered questions if you are interested in purchasing the bike. Without a doubt an incredibly rare opportunity to own a piece of Harley-Davidson history, and the only one like it for sale nationwide.
Wow! Somebody buy this before my “Want” overcomes my “Need.” Will it get away? Man, $27K sure is a lot of money. But how much is $27K these days of $4/gallon gasoline and runaway inflation, anyway?
Like I said: Wow! Will there ever be another opportunity like this?
Check out these photos of this incredible find:
A special thanks to Jason for allowing us to use these photos and the description above. You can reach Jason at The Auto Livery (telephone 513-738-1115).
Love them or hate them, there’s something about Harley-Davidson motorcycles that command attention, and during our recent visit to the Harley museum in Milwaukee, one of the exhibits that grabbed my attention was The Engine Wall. It had a magnificent display of Harley-Davidson engines including their big twins, their small twins, and other engines in the Harley family tree. I always found the evolution of the big twin engines mildly confusing, but this dramatic display cleared all that up. I grabbed a photo of each one and I thought I’d share them with you here on the blog.
F-Head (1911-1929)
The F-head engines were 61 cubic inches, and later, 74 cubic inches. These were Harley’s first v-twin engines, and they featured an inlet over exhaust valve configuration. What that means is that the intake valve was an overhead valve contained in the cylinder head (it moved down to let in the air-fuel mixture), and the exhaust valve was a side valve (or flathead valve) contained in the cylinder on one side (it moved up to allow the exhaust gases to escape). Inlet over exhaust internal combustion engine configurations (or F-heads) were fairly common in the early days of gasoline engines. If you draw the arrangement schematically, it sort of looks like an F (hence the name). The larger of the two Harley F-head models produced 11 horsepower.
The F-Head configuration.
V-Series Flathead (1930-1936)
The V-series flatheads were either 45 cubic inches or 74 cubic inches. They were sidevalve engines, which means the valves and their seats faced up and were located in the cylinders (not the cylinder heads), alongside piston (hence the sidevalve descriptor). This allowed the head to be basically flat (when viewed from the bottom), and that’s why these engines are called flatheads. It’s an old school design and it works well, but due to the twists and turns the intake and exhaust gases have to make and their poor heat dissipation, flatheads are limited in how much power they can produce. Harley would get around to fixing that in 1936 with the introduction of their overhead valve Knucklehead engine, but that would be down the road. Read on; we’ll get to that.
U-Series Flathead (1937-1948)
This was the second iteration of Harley’s sidevalve (or flathead) engines. There were two versions: The U and UL models (both had 74 cubic inches), and the UH and ULH (these had 80 cubic inches). The U series of engines were used for both motorcycles and Harley’s three-wheeled vehicles.
Knucklehead (1936-1947)
The Knucklehead was the first of Harley’s overhead valve engines, and the knucklehead name was derived from the valve covers’ appearance. Knuckleheads were made in a 61 cubic inch model and then in 1941, a 74 cubic inch configuration.
I’ve read that Knucklehead engines had serious oil leak issues caused by an overly complex rocker box cover (something Harley tried to correct with the next engine configuration, the Panhead). Knuckleheads had cast iron cylinder heads, which tended to make them run hot (cast iron does not dissipate heat very well). The Knucklehead motorcycles were the first Harleys that featured their distinctive Big Twin style, something that Harley has kept right up to present-day offerings.
Panhead (1948-1965)
The Panhead Harleys got their name from the valve covers’ appearance (they look like pans). This engine and the Evo engine (the engine that appeared two iterations later) are, in my opinion, the two best looking engines Harley ever made. In a major design shift for Harley, Panhead cylinder heads were made of aluminum, which improved heat dissipation and temperature control. The Panhead was intended to improve performance and address the oil leak issues associated with the Knucklehead. Did it work? I don’t know. I’ve never seen a Panhead Harley that did not leak. They sure are beautiful, though. The Panhead had a short production run, but it had a major impact on Harley styling.
The last year of the Panhead (1965) was the first year Harley had electric starting (that was when Harley introduced the Electra Glide name). My two ultimate dream bikes are the 1965 Harley Electra Glide and the Norton P-11 (which is discussed elsewhere on ExNotes). In my opinion, Panhead Harleys are exceptionally beautiful motorcycles.
Shovelhead (1966-1984)
1966 saw the introduction of another Harley engine, and yet another name based on the rocker box appearance.
I had a Shovelhead (a 1979 Electra Glide Classic). It was so bad I called it the Optical Illusion (because it looked like a motorcycle). My shovelhead Electra Glide was the worst motor vehicle of any type I ever owned (car, motorcycle, lawn mower, and Cox-.049-model airplane). It was constantly plagued by oil leaks and breakdown. It wouldn’t go a hundred miles without something breaking. After coming off a Triumph Bonneville, the Harley handled like a garbage truck. It would hang an exhaust valve every 4,000 miles, and as it was explained to me by the dealer, it was because when unleaded gasoline was introduced in the US, the valves would stick in the valve guides without the added lubricity provided by leaded gas. I don’t know if that was the reason or not, but in 12,000 miles, that bike needed three valve jobs (the first two were on the dealer with the bike’s 12,000-mile warranty; the third was on me because the bike had just over 12,000 miles. After paying for that last valve job, I sold my Electra Glide and I swore I’d never buy another Harley (but I did; see below). It was beautiful, though, and I wish I had kept it.
Evolution (1984-1999)
Harley got their act together on this one, and it was probably because they subcontracted the engineering to Porsche. Willie G drove a Porsche, and he knew they knew how to engineer engines. It was a good move. I had a ’92 Heritage Softail and it was a great motorcycle. My dealer? Not so much, but I guess it was all part of the Harley experience. I put a lot of fun miles on my ’92 including trips all over the US Southwest and Mexico, and I enjoyed riding it. The engine style was great, too.
In my opinion, the Evo engine was one of the two best-looking motors Harley ever made (the other was the Panhead; see above).
Twin Cam (1999-2017)
The thing most amazing to me about the Twin Cam engine was that Harley kept it as long as they did. It was basically a bust. Plagued by mechanical failures and overheating from the get-go, one had to be either ignorant or a masochist to buy a Harley with a Twin Cam motor. Cam failures, lubrication failures, and overheating were a fact of life if you owned one of these. The rear cylinder overheating issue was so bad that Harley incorporated a switch and an automated feature to shut down the rear cylinder if the engine got too hot. Amazingly and amusingly (at least to anyone with any mechanical smarts), Harley called activation of the rear cylinder shutdown feature their “parade mode,” with the implication that it was intended to accommodate riders who rode in, you know, parades. There were kits available to shield the riders’ legs from the intense heat the rear cylinder generated.
Twin Cam Rushmore (2014-2016)
This is a higher performance version of the Twin Cam engine that involved many changes, the most significant of which was liquid cooling for the cylinder heads on the Ultra Limited, CVO Limited, and Tri-Glide models (the models in which the radiators could be hidden; you can’t have a Big Twin Harley looking like a Gold Wing, I guess).
Milwaukee Eight (2017 to Present)
Harley joined much of the rest of the world in 2017 when they incorporated four valves (two intake, two exhaust) for each cylinder. Let’s see…two cylinders, four valves per cylinder…that makes eight, and Harley’s hometown is Milwaukee. Hey, the Milwaukee Eight! (At least the name makes more sense than the Rushmore mentioned above.) These engines had problems and Harley had recalls to address them. Wet sumping was a major issue, as was overheating. The Milwaukee Eight incorporated a plastic intake manifold, too, which also had issues. I like the name, though.
I thought the Harley Museum’s Engine Wall was very, very well done. Harley put a lot of thought and work into it, and as a mechanical engineer and former Harley owner, I enjoyed it. There’s the obvious: the actual engines on display. And then there’s the subtle: the slight tilt of that orange wall toward the visitors so that the engines were presented not an angle, but straight on as you tilt your head up to view the different engines. The colors are classic Harley: black, orange, and chrome. It’s one of the better displays I’ve seen of any type in any museum. The whole thing just works. Harley got The Engine Wall right; they did an awesome job.
As mentioned at the start of this blog, there were more engines on The Engine Wall. These included their smaller engines (for the Sportsters and the racebikes), their singles, and some interesting other twins. Keep an eye on ExNotes; we’ll show those, too.
I first heard of Dave Barr on a motorcycle ride with Baja John and friends through the wilds of Tehachapi and Kern County. One of the riders in our group (an Air Force colonel) mentioned Dave’s book on a roadside stop somewhere out in the Owens Peak wilderness area. It had my attention immediately. The Internet was in its infancy in those days and when I made it home, I managed to find more about Mr. Barr online.
The site I found listed a book (Riding the Edge) and a phone number, so I called. I ordered several copies, one for me and others for friends. The guy on the other end of the line was Dave Barr himself and we had a nice conversation. As it turned out, Dave lived in Bodfish near Lake Isabella. One thing led to another and in that conversation, I arranged another ride to meet Dave in person. Good buddy Baja John rode with me.
Dave Barr and yours truly 20 years ago in Caliente, California.
It was a grand ride, starting in Caliente (on the magnificent Bodfish-Caliente Road) and then around glorious Lake Isabella with world traveler and living legend Dave Barr. Dave rode a Sportster in those days; his earlier ride was a 1972 Super Glide. Much has been made of the fact that Barr rode that Super Glide around the world as a double amputee, but it took only a few minutes knowing Dave to stop thinking of him as a double amputee and to see him as a fascinating and genuinely nice guy, and that’s what I remember about him.
Dave Barr’s book, Riding the Edge, is the greatest motorcycle adventure story ever told, made all the more significant by two facts. The first is that Dave Barr, the author, did the ride after losing both legs to a land mine in Africa; the second is that Dave did the ride on a beat up old ’72 Harley Super Glide that had 100,000 miles on the odometer before he started his run around the planet.
Dave Barr’s ride around the world took four years, mostly because Dave financed the trip himself. He’d ride a country or two, run out of money, get a job and save for a bit, and then continue. I first read Riding the Edge two decades ago, and it was the book that lit my fire for international motorcycle riding. I’ve probably read Dave’s book five or six times. The guy was and still is my hero.
Rest in peace, Dave. You inspired me and many others, and your memory will far outlast all of us.
Harley-Davidson built four military motorcycles during World War II: The WLA, the WLC, the Knucklehead EL Overhead Valve, and the XA. The 45-cubic inch V-twin WLA was the preferred US Army motorcycle, and it was the motorcycle Harley-Davidson produced in mass quantities. We recently visited the Harley-Davidson Museum in Milwaukee, where I was able to grab most of the photos you see here.
The WLA
The WLA Harley-Davidson (if you haven’t tumbled to it yet, the “A” in WLA stands for Army) used a detuned 750cc air-cooled engine. The motorcycle had a springer front end and a solid rear (there were no springs or shocks in the rear, other than the spring beneath the seat post). The WLA, like other Harleys of that era, had a foot-operated clutch on the left and a hand shifter on the fuel tank’s left side.
The Harley- Davidson WLA. This 45- cubic-inch V-twin was the U.S. Army’s principal motorcycle during World War II (photo provided by the American Motorcycle Historical Foundation). This photo is in my book, Police and Military Motorcycles.
Simplicity was the WLA’s defining theme. Its flathead engine could be disassembled using only hand tools. At the army’s request, Harley built the WLA with a carburetor that had nonadjustable needles and jets, a configuration Harley used on some of its police motorcycles. The idea was to prevent soldiers (or police officers) adjusting the carb. The WLA didn’t even have a key. A trooper just had to kick-start it and ride.
A US Army WLA on display at the Harley Museum. It’s authentic.
The Army quickly found WLA improvement opportunities. Travel on dusty roads tended to accelerate engine wear, so Harley added a monstrous oil-bath air filter. The second improvement was the headlight location. WLA headlights were initially above the handlebars (like on the civilian models). Part of the Army’s tactical doctrine, though, included a move that required the rider to use the motorcycle as a shield. The drill in that move involved skidding the rear wheel, flipping the rear out, and then laying the bike down to form a barricade…you know, so you could shoot at the bad guys from your now-prone motorcycle (thus giving new meaning to the time worn “I had to lay ‘er down” and similar expressions). The problem here was that the above-the-handlebars-headlights often broke during this maneuver. Harley remounted the headlight just above the front fender to better protect it.
The Army started buying WLA Harleys even before the United States went to war. In 1940, the Army ordered 16,000 WLAs to be delivered in 1940 and 1941, and then after Pearl Harbor, the pace increased. Harley won contracts for 13,000 WLAs in 1942, 24,000 in 1943, 11,000 in 1944, and more than 8,000 in 1945.
A United States Navy WLA in Navy gray. Note the headlight location above the handlebars.
Even the Navy got in the act with a WL variant painted sort of a battleship gray. The Navy used their motorcycles for shore patrol duties (the Shore Patrol was the Navy’s Military Police function). I saw one with a sidecar at the Harley Museum in Milwaukee. It was a sweet-looking motorcycle.
Harley-Davidson sold 88,000 military motorcycles during the war to the United States, England, Canada, China, India, and Russia. Many were eventually sold to the public. Most are in collections; some are still ridden today. In addition to the 88,000 complete motorcycles, Harley built enough spare parts to build 30,000 more motorcycles.
The WLC
During World War II, the Canadians also bought Harleys for their army, as did many other countries. The other countries used the standard WLA, but Canada had its own unique requirements. These included an auxiliary hand clutch, interchangeable front and rear wheels, and a front wheel stand (the U.S. model had the traditional Harley side stand). Harley-Davidson built 18,000 WLC motorcycles for Canada.
The 61 EL
Harley had introduced its 61-cubic-inch EL Knucklehead engine to the civilian market in 1936. The Knucklehead and its overhead valve engine offered better performance than the flathead 45 W-series Harleys. Harley-Davidson delivered a small number of military motorcycles based on the 61-cubic-inch Knucklehead engine. Man, that must have been a good gig…being an Army dispatch rider and drawing a Knucklehead for your ride. The military Knuckleheads are rare (no jokes needed here, folks). I can’t remember ever seeing one. But, I found a video of one that was for sale in 2017. Enjoy, my friends…
The XA
The Army preferred the Harley WLA to the Indian 30-50, but it had problems with both motorcycles. In addition to the engine wear and broken headlight problems mentioned above, the rear chain had to be adjusted and replaced frequently on both motorcycles. Engine overheating was another problem (the Harley and the Indian both had V-twin engines, and with a V-twin, the rear cylinder runs hotter than the front cylinder). The rear cylinders could seize because of this.
None of the XA Harleys saw active duty in a war zone. This one looks ready, though, with a .45 ACP Thompson in a scabbard on the right and a .30-cal M1 Carbine in the scabbard on the left. Check out the tires!
When the British captured BMW R 12 motorcycles in North Africa and provided a few to the United States, the German machines appeared to provide the answer to the U.S. Army’s major concerns with the WLA. The BMW had a relatively maintenance-free driveshaft to provide power to the rear wheel. The BMW’s horizontally-opposed twin cylinders were both out in the airstream, and as a result the BMW engine ran about a hundred degrees cooler than the Harley and Indian engines. The shaft drive did away with the chain and its wear and adjustment issues. The giant oil bath air cleaner was in a great location. And the BMW had a foot shifter and a hand clutch, a much easier to operate arrangement.
The Army asked both Harley-Davidson and Indian to develop prototypes based on the BMW R 12. Harley-Davidson’s answer was the XA, which looked, for all intents and purposes, as if the BMW engine and shaft drive had been grafted into a standard WLA. In reality, what had happened was very close to that. Harley reverse-engineered the BMW drive train and mated its version into the WLA chassis. The first few, including the prototype, even had the Harley springer front end.
A closeup of the 750cc flathead Harley boxer twin.Another view of a non-sidecar-equipped Harley XA. Note the twin carbs, the air cleaner location behind the generator, and the foot shift.
The Army was impressed with both the Harley and Indian BMW clones, and they gave both manufacturers production contracts. Harley and Indian each built 1,000 machines based on the BMW design. Harley’s XA was more of a direct copy; Indian’s design had the cylinders tilted up like a modern Moto Guzzi. But while the Harley and Indian development work was under way, the army had been experimenting with other transportation concepts and found that the 4WD Willys (the Jeep) was a much better all-around military vehicle. The Army shifted its resources to Jeep acquisition and did not take delivery on the motorcycles Harley and Indian had already produced. The Army can be fickle like that.
Both Harley and Indian did not pursue BMW clones, since neither company saw any significant civilian demand. Both manufacturers sold their machines to the public and walked away from further development. Today, both the Harley XA and its Indian counterpart are highly collectible.
The Real Knuckleheads?
On that topic of knuckleheads mentioned above…no, not the EL model mentioned several paragraphs up, but the guys running the show in the War Department and over at Indian. You see, the War Department’s spec for their desired military motorcycles called for a 30.5 cubic inch motorcycle (a 500cc twin). Indian snapped to and developed the Model 741 you see in the video below. Harley thought about things for a minute and told the Army they didn’t make a 500cc motorcycle, and they let the Army know they weren’t about to start. Harley further informed the, er, knuckleheads that they made a very good 45 cubic inch motorcycle, and if the Army wanted Harleys, that’s what they could buy.
The knuckleheads (the ones in uniform, not the EL motorcycles) quickly found out that Harley was right. The troops let the brass know that Harleys were better motorcycles, and that’s why the Army ordered many more Harley WLAs than Indians.
There’s one more area in which Harley had to set the knuckleheads straight. During the war, the Army told Harley and Indian to cancel all civilian motorcycle production and make only military motorcycles. Indian saluted and executed. Harley let the War Department know they could go pound sand. By keeping their civilian production going, Harley preserved their customer base. After the war, Harley prospered. Indian? Well, you know how that story ends.
I wrote a story for Motorcycle Classics magazine about the Indian 30-50 (Indian’s World War II workhorse) a few years ago. You can view it here. I also have a video of that bike you might enjoy:
Astute readers will remember our post on Shinya Kimura, an artist who works with metal and motorcycles to create motorcycle art. I was both pleased and surprised to see one of his creations at the Harley Museum during our recent Milwaukee content safari.
“Spike,” Mr. Kimura’s custom Knucklehead, was in a Harley museum hall that focused on custom motorcycles, and even before I saw his name, I knew whose work it was.
I believe “Spike” is the very same motorcycle featured in this video:
The Shinya Kimura shop, located in Azusa, California (not far from CSC Motorcycles) is one of the more interesting places I’ve ever visited. I think you would enjoy it, too, although it is not open to the public. I was there on business reasons, and I captured some great photos. If you have a chance, check out our earlier blog.
I’ve been a motorcycle guy nearly all my life and I’ve owned several motorcycles. Only two of them were Harleys; the first was beautiful but terrible in many ways (a ’79 Electra Glide Classic). The second was beautiful and it was a great machine (a ’92 Heritage Softail). I think Harley’s styling on past models has been awesome. Bottom line? I’m not a Harley fanatic and I’m not a hater. It’s not likely I’d ever buy another Harley, unless I came across a cheap XR-1000 (and that’s probably not in the cards). All that said, I can tell you that the Harley-Davidson Museum is the best motorcycle museum (and maybe the best anything museum) I’ve ever visited (and I’ve visited a lot of them).
First, a bit of logistics about the Museum and our upcoming blogs. We were in Milwaukee specifically to visit the Museum along with a few other Milwaukee highlights. The Harley Museum is too much to take in with just a single visit, and it is definitely too much to cover in a single blog. Our Milwaukee schedule allowed only one Harley Museum visit, but I’ll cover it in three or four blogs. This is the first.
Sticking to the logistics for a moment, the Museum is easy to get to. Plug it into Waze and you’ll drive right up to their front door. There’s plenty of parking, and we snagged a handicap parking spot right at their front door (my handicap tag is the silver lining to a 2009 motorcycle accident). We visited the Museum on a weekday, so it was not too crowded. I’m guessing that’s not the case on the weekends.
Admission is reasonable at $24 per person; for us it was a little less because we qualify for the geezer discount (that knocks it down to $20 per person). Knowing Harley’s customer base, I think a lot of folks get in for $20.
The interior lighting was subdued. Flash photography is allowed, but it’s hard to get decent photos with flash. Nearly everything you see here is with ambient lighting. I had to crank up the Nikon’s ISO, so you may see some graininess in my photos. Mea culpa.
The Museum has three floors, and the building is huge. There are several permanent exhibits and a few special exhibits (ones that change from time to time). The exhibits (both permanent and special) include:
Motorcycle Galleries.
Mama Tried.
Mi Papi.
The Engine Room.
The Archives.
Military Motorcycles.
Clubs and Competition.
The Tank Wall.
Art and Engineering.
Motorcycle Galleries
The Motorcycle Galleries are on the first and second floors, and they dominate the Museum. The Motorcycle Galleries is an appropriate name. The first part is a 180-foot, three-motorcycle-wide display of motorcycles from Harley’s first 50 years, starting with their very first model. The second part features later Harleys.
It was a well assembled exhibit and the motorcycles are beautiful. As I walked the line and took in the motorcycles, I realized I had seen more than a few of these bikes in books. Seeing them in person was special.
Mama Tried
Mama Tried was a custom bike exhibit, containing all sorts of custom Harleys (not the wigged-out choppers you see at the motorcycle shows). I’m not sure what the name (Mama Tried) is supposed to mean, but I thought the exhibit was good. I was liked seeing the Knucklehead customized by Shinya Kimura, whom we’ve written about before.
Mi Papi Has A Motorcycle
You may remember that Joe Gresh wrote an ExNotes review a few years ago about the Spanish language kid’s book, Mi Papi Has A Motorcycle. The book impressed Gresh; apparently, it had the same effect on the Museum staff. There’s an entire hall with large storyboards taken from the book.
The Engine Room
The Engine Room was enlightening. I always found the history and names of Harley engines confusing. VL, UL, flatheads, you know…what do all those designations actually mean? I’m a mechanical engineer and I never could follow it all. The Engine Room made it all clear. We’ll have a future blog on it. This was one of the best parts of the Harley Museum.
The Archives
The Archives were something I’d read about before. An elevator takes you to the third floor. The archives are not open to the public, but you can peer in through a double wire fence. One of Elvis Presley’s motorcycles was near the fence.
Military Motorcycles
The Military Motorcycles exhibit features the Harleys used in World War II and it was the best exhibit of its type I’ve ever seen. This is a topic I’ve been interested in for a l0ng time, going back to before I wrote The Complete Book of Police and Military Motorcycles. There will be a separate blog on this exhibit. It was awesome.
Clubs and Competition
The Clubs and Competition exhibit features a board track with vintage race bikes and projected images of motorcycle racers (and accompanying engine sounds), vintage Harley hill climbers, and Joe Petrali’s land speed record Knucklehead. The Petrali streamliner was awesome.
The Tank Wall
The Tank Wall and the tank exhibits were intriguing. I’ve seen photos of it many times, but to see it in person had more of an impact. To me, the tanks and the engine are what make a Harley. It’s well done. I felt like a kid in a candy store more in this part of the Museum than anywhere else.
Art and Engineering
The Museum has a relatively new Art and Engineering exhibit, which is intended to show how art combines with engineering at Harley-Davidson. I was disappointed, especially because it was one of the main reasons I visited. I felt it was superficial and that it was basically a Harley-Davidson commercial, with almost nothing beyond a very light explanation of how Harley engineering is influenced by art. I get it; they go from sketches to clay mockups to metal, and they select colors along the way. Got it. They use CAD. Got it. Willie G is a wonderful human being, and so was an earlier designer/stylist named Brooks Stevens. Got it. I kind of knew all of that before I got on the airplane to go to Milwaukee (except for the part about Brooks Stevens; that was new to me).
When the motorcycling world discovered Willie G 50 years ago (in the days of the Super Glide, the XLCR Cafe Racer, the Electra Glide Classic, the Low Rider, etc.) there were lots of stories about how Harley went to motorcycle events and studied how riders customized their motorcycles. That was good stuff and those were good creativity inputs, but there was none of that in this exhibit. I was hoping to understand how Harley selected the style and the performance parameters for the new Sportster (a nice-looking motorcycle) and the Pan America (an ugly motorcycle, but all ADV bikes are), and maybe gain some insights into where Harley might go in the future. There was none of that.
I’m probably not a fair judge in this area. I taught engineering for 27 years at Cal Poly Pomona, I’ve had motorcycle engineering assignments related to Harley and other companies, and I wrote a book about engineering creativity. To be fair to Harley, they weren’t targeting retired engineering professors when they created the Art and Engineering exhibit. The exhibit had nice visuals, but for me it was devoid of any meaningful content. That said, we took in nine exhibits at the Harley Museum and only this one didn’t measure up to what I expected. The rest were all outstanding, and 8 out of 9 wins is a pretty good score in anybody’s book.
So there you have it: My Harley-Davidson Museum impressions. Sue and I had a good time. We were there for about three hours, but it would have been easy to spend the entire day. My disappointment in the Art and Engineering exhibit notwithstanding, I strongly recommend that anyone who rides or has even a passing interest in the American icon that is Harley-Davidson visit the Museum. It’s a bucket list destination. I’m glad I went.
At the tail end of our path through the Harley Museum, there’s an area with current model Harleys where you can sit on the bikes and take pictures. A nice guy from the Czech Republic offered to take a picture of Susie and me with my cell phone. It looks good. Our smiles are real.
The destination on this fine day was Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, part of the National Park Service network. It’s situated in the Hiawatha National Forest along the shores of Lake Superior, which is the large body of water you see in the above photograph. Pictured Rocks lived up to its name; the drive to get there was even better. It’s part of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, and once we left the freeway on our ride out of Green Bay, Wisconsin, the roads were majestic. We hit it at just the right time, too, which was in mid-October when the leaves were turning colors. You might think I turned up the saturation in the photo below. I did not. You’re seeing it the way it came out of the camera (my Nikon D810, a 24-120 lens, and a Hoya polarizer).
The Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore area includes sandstone cliffs, beaches, waterfalls, and sand dunes. There are many lakes in this area as well. The roads are lined with forests. It’s a nice area, and my thoughts were that it would be well suited for exploring on nearly any kind of motorcycle in the summer months (it’s cold in the fall, and from what I understand, really cold in the winter). Speed limits were low (I think the highest we saw was 55mph, many areas were 40 or 45mph, so a small bike would do well here). All the roads were fairly straight with few curves; a big touring bike like a Harley or a Gold Wing would be fine, too.
The temperatures are brisk this time of year. We had frost on the windshield in the morning. This is a good time of year to take in the changing colors, though. The leaves and the ride were incredibly scenic.
Once we entered Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, we found that it’s not like the Jersey shore or the Grand Canyon’s South Rim; we couldn’t just ride along the edge of Lake Superior and take in the entire shoreline. Nope, the way to see this National Park is by riding to a series of points along the lakefront from the interior. Getting to each involves taking different roads to their ends where they meet Lake Superior. That’s okay, because doing this in the fall with the leaves turning colors makes for a beautiful ride.
The town where we stayed the night is Munising (pronounced just like it’s spelled: Muni Sing). There is at least one glass bottom boat tour in the area, although we didn’t do that.
We couldn’t get anyone to recommend a restaurant in Munising, and after trying one, we understood why. But that’s all right. There are several shops in town that sell pasties, and the pasties are great. Muldoon’s Pasties is the one we tried. (Pasties are not what you might be thinking. They are actually pastries.) We had the chicken pasty and then a cherry one for dessert, and they were awesome. That one chicken pasty you see below was more than a meal for both of us.
For this trip, we flew from Atlanta (where we stopped to visit with an Army friend and mentor) to Milwaukee, where we rented a Mazda CX30. It’s an all-wheel-drive automobile that was okay, but not okay enough for me to ever consider buying one.
The CX30’s fuel economy was good, ride comfort (while better than a motorcycle) and road noise were not. It would probably be an okay car for the area (they get a lot of snow up here in the winter). We put about a thousand miles on the Mazda and had no issues, other than the tire pressure indicator nearly constantly flashing. That seems to be a common occurrence with Enterprise Rental; the car we rented in Atlanta had the same problem.
We’ve got more good stuff coming your way: The Harley-Davidson Museum, World War II military motorcycles, the Green Bay Auto Gallery, the National Rail Museum, the Miller Beer tour, the Pabst Mansion, and a few other stops. Hang in there, click on the pop-up ads to keep the lights on and the content flowing, and as always, stay tuned.
There must be a lot of potheads in Michigan. I believe I saw more marijuana stores in Michigan than any place else I’ve ever been (and coming from the Peoples Republik of Kalifornia, that’s saying something). There was one cannabis store after another, especially in the Upper Peninsula.
Well….we’ve been having a little heat wave here in SoCal and I have been hanging around the house too much, so it was time to take the Harley Low Rider out for a little run.
My Low Rider when it was at the dealership in Minneapolis. I bought it about 4 years ago with 4,000 miles on the odometer.
I couldn’t do my usual run around the Palos Verdes peninsula due to the highway being closed to two-wheeled traffic. So I instead went the short way across the peninsula and then through the beach cities where it was nice and cool compared to the rest of Los Angeles.
I got through them all and was coming out of El Segundo and towards the airport and Westchester. On Sepulveda there’s a tunnel that goes under a runway at LAX and we call it, of course, the airport tunnel.
Some guys on bikes think of it as a tunnel and some think of it as a concert hall. Well, I kinda go both ways on that. But every time I get near it, I harken back to a memory of New Year’s Eve in 1972. I was a teenager at the time and my best bud Dave Reimer called me at home and told me he was at a great party in El Segundo. He offered to come by and pick me up (I had no wheels at that time). Dave showed up at my pad on a BSA 650 motorcycle he had borrowed from a friend. I jumped on and we headed out.
As we approached the tunnel from the Westchester side going to El Segundo Dave yelled back to me to hang on. He kicked it down a gear into 3rd and hit the throttle hard. We entered the tunnel going about 60mph and he banged 4th and hit the throttle hard and we were flying. The support columns just turned into a blur. There was a lot of great engine noise too. We came out the other end doing about 110mph!
What a kick! The things you do and get away with when you are young can be amazing. It was a great party and it is a favorite memory.
Today, in honor of my buddy Dave who left us about 15 years ago, I entered the tunnel in 3rd and laid down a little sweet Harley music with lots of throttle. It was about as much as I could get away with considering traffic.
So, Dave, wherever you are just wanted to let you know I was thinking about you.
Thanks, Bob. That’s a great story and we enjoyed reading it. Remind me never to lend my motorcycle to any of your friends!
I grew up up in the Evel Knievel era. It was a glorious time, the 1960s, and if you were a motorcycle freak (as I was and still am), there was no way you could not have heard of Evel Knievel, a man who jumped cars and buses (and ultimately, the Snake River Canyon) on a motorcycle. He was one hell of a showman.
In the summer of 1966 I was a skinny little 15-year-old kid, my Dad owned a new Triumph Bonneville, and I was in hog heaven for that reason. Then and now, there was and is nothing cooler than a Triumph Bonneville. We were going to the motorcycle races. A big night out in those days was the East Windsor Speedway, a half-mile dirt track oval where they raced everything. Stock cars, two-strokes, and the big bikes. Not just locals, either. Harley’s Bart Markel (National No. 1), Triumph’s Gary Nixon (National No. 9), and more. It was the 4th of July weekend and it was 58 years ago. I remember it like it was last week.
East Windsor Speedway is no more. It’s now tract homes. My loss; New Jersey’s property tax gain.
East Windsor Speedway put on quite a show. Dad and I rode there on the Bonneville. I fancied myself a motorcycle guy and it just didn’t get any better than the half-mile dirt oval at East Windsor. The fun started right in the parking lot with hundreds of fans’ motorcycles. Fins and twins (everything was an air-cooled twin in those days), carbs, chrome, custom paint, custom seats, and more. It was all England and America and a little bit of Japan: Triumph, BSA, Honda, Harley, Suzuki, Yamaha…you get the idea. Italy and Ducati were yet to be discovered, only weirdos rode BMWs (remember those strange sideways kick starters?), and weirdos definitely didn’t go to the races. A new Bonneville was $1320 and a Honda Super Hawk (electric start, no less) was only about $600. It all seemed so attainable.
The East Windsor Speedway is long gone now, shut down by noise complaints from the encroaching ‘burbs and then plowed over for more cookie cutter homes. It’s a pity, really.
East Windsor always put on quite a show, but that 4th of July evening was a six sigma outlier on the right side of the bell curve. Stock car racing was first, then the 250cc class (love that smell!), then the big boys (including Nixon and Markel), then the main event (Evel Knievel!)…and it was all washed down with a 4th of July fireworks display that was as good as I had ever seen. That warm New Jersey night out started before the sun went down and finished around midnight. I think the cost to get in was something like $2.50.
Evel Knievel was the highlight for me and I think for everyone else, too. Evel was just starting to get famous, and here he was in person. White leathers and a cape trimmed in red and blue on the 4th of July. (Gresh and I always wanted capes, but we had to wait 50 years and go to China to get ours.) A Harley V-twin, with monstrous ramps set up on the infield (one for liftoff and one for landing), with a couple of Greyhounds in between (buses, that is…not the dogs).
Airborne Evel back in the day.
The crowd fell silent as Evel revved the 750 Harley and then accelerated. But it wasn’t up the ramp. Nope, Evel (ever the showman) accelerated alongside the ramps and the buses when we all expected him to jump. Faked us out, he did. Then he looped around to start again. Ah, I get it, we all thought. That was just to gage his acceleration before hitting the ramps for real. The anticipation built. Thousands held their breath as Evel accelerated again, but he faked us out with another run alongside the ramps. Okay, all part of the show. A third time….maybe this would be it…but no, it was yet another tease. Back to the start point, more revving, and by now we were wise to the ways of Evel. We all thought it would be another feint. But nope, this was the real deal…up the ramp rapidly and suddenly there he was: Airborne Evel, sailing up and over the buses, suspended high in the evening air, and then back down on the landing ramp. He hit the brakes hard, struggling to stop before running out of room, the Harley’s rear end sashaying around like an exotic dancer in a room full of big tippers. The crowd went nuts. A seismic cheer drowned out the mighty Milwaukee sound machine. We had seen Evel, the man and the motorcycle, airborne and in person, flying over the buses that would have you leave the driving to them. It was awesome.
It all happened 58 years ago. Evel, my Dad, and the East Windsor Speedway have gone on to their reward and I’m officially a geezer drawing Social Security. But that evening will live in my memory forever, which sort of brings us to the present. Sue and I were on a content safari in Idaho (you’ve seen several blogs from that trip, and I still have a few to go). When we visited Twin Falls, we were on the edge of the Snake River Canyon. That name stuck in my mind because it was where Evel went when the US Government said “no dice” when he asked for permission to jump the Grand Canyon.
Good buddies Velma and Orlando on the south Rim of the Grand Canyon. Evel asked, and the Feds said no.
The entire concept was preposterous on so many levels I can’t list them. But that was Evel Knievel. Before he did it, the idea of jumping over a car was preposterous, as was the idea of jumping over several cars, as was the idea of jumping over a bus, as was the idea of jumping over several buses, and…well, you get the idea. Evel had bumped up against the limits of preposterousness, and that’s when he floated the Grand Canyon idea. The Feds nixed that, but Evel wasn’t a man stopped by obstacles. He went for the next best thing, and that was the Snake River Canyon. It’s over a mile wide, and it’s a big drop to the bottom.
To get back to Idaho connection and this story, I looked on the map to see if it denoted where Evel did his thing and to my surprise, it did. And it wasn’t very far from Shoshone Falls. Sue and I did our thing at Shoshone Falls and as soon as we were back in the car, I plugged in “Evel Knievel Snake River Canyon Jump.” Waze didn’t know from Evel Knievel, but the regular iPhone mapping app did. We were only a few miles away, we were off to the races (so to speak).
On the way in, as we approached the road’s end (it ended at the Snake River Canyon), we saw no signs initially marking the spot where Evel made history. We did see a lot of tract homes, and a sign selling more.
Not bad for an entire acre by California standards, but that’s Idaho. Someday every square inch of America will be covered by tract homes or high-density housing, and our politicians will wonder why there’s so little water and so much traffic.
As we reached the end of the road, the Canyon came into view, as did the ramp you see in the photo at the top of this blog. Whoa! Can it be?
The Snake River Canyon, where Evel attempted his jump. It’s wider and deeper than it looks.
It was. On the other side of that dirt ramp, we saw our first indication that we were where we wanted to be. It was a good summary of Evel and the attempted jump that occurred decades ago.
Evel: The Man, the myth, and the motorcycle.
The deal on the Evel Knievel Snake River Canyon jump is this: Evel didn’t attempt it on a regular or even a modified motorcycle. He instead used a steam rocket-propelled aircraft of sorts that was mounted on a launch ramp. The dirt ramp you see in the photo at the top of this blog was not one that you would attempt to roll up and hit at high speed with a motorcycle to become airborne. The idea instead was that the rocket ship would launch off a launch rail, carry Evel across the Snake River canyon, and then Evel would deploy a parachute and he (and the rocket ship) would float back to Earth on the other side. That was the theory.
An excerpt from the above sign. Evel Knievel, motorcycle astronaut.
It didn’t work out that way, though. Evel and his rocket ship made it about halfway across the Snake River, the parachute deployed inadvertently and prematurely, and man and machine descended into the canyon and onto the Snake River’s banks. Miraculously, Evel walked away, never to attempt a canyon (any canyon) jump again.
Another excerpt from the photo above. There was no V-Twin hidden in the bowels of Evel’s rocket ship.
We climbed to the top of the ramp and gazed across the Snake River Canyon. I wondered: Will we ever see another man like Evel Knievel? I think it’s less likely, given our predilection with biological males competing in women’s sports, our insistence on listing our pronouns (you can just refer to me as “hey, you”), and everything else our society has degenerated into. But that borders on being political, and as you know, we don’t do that. That said, though, I think it’s a safe bet that Evel never worried about anyone using his preferred pronouns.
After our climb down, we wandered around the area a bit. Other than that sign above (which isn’t visible until you walked to the other side of the ramp) and a marker on the trail fence, you’d never know this was an historic spot.
Peering at the Evel Knievel sign on the canyon side of the historic launch site.A tiny fencepost marker on the trail that runs along the Snake River Canyon.A macro shot of the Evel fencepost marker. History happened here.
We had a marvelous trip through Idaho, and like I said above, I still have another two or three blogs to wrap up our Idaho expedition. I’ll tell you before I get there, though, that visiting this obscure (and rapidly fading into further obscurity) spot was the highlight of the trip for me.
five or six times. The guy was and still is my hero.
