Harley – The ExhaustNotes Blog

It’s Always About The Motors

By Joe Berk

For me a motorcycle’s appearance, appeal, and personality are defined by its motor. I’m not a chopper guy, but I like the look of a chopper because the engine absolutely dominates the bike. I suppose to some people fully faired motorcycles are beautiful, but I’m not in that camp. The only somewhat fully faired bike I ever had was my 1995 Triumph Daytona 1200, but you could still see a lot of the engine on that machine. I once wrote a Destinations piece for Motorcycle Classics on the Solvang Vintage Motorcycle Museum and while doing so I called Virgil Elings, the wealthy entrepreneur who owned it. I asked Elings what drove his interest in collecting motorcycles. His answer? The motors. He spoke about the mechanical beauty of a motorcycle’s engine, and that prompted me to ask for his thoughts on fully faired bikes. “I suppose they’re beautiful to some,” he said, “but when you take the fairings off, they look like washing machines.” I had a good laugh. His observation was spot on.

A 1200cc Harley Panhead motor I photographed at the Rock Store in Malibu.

My earliest memory of drooling over a motorcycle occurred sometime in the 1950s when I was a little kid. My Mom was shopping with me somewhere in one of those unenclosed malls on Route 18 in New Jersey, and in those days, it was no big deal to let your kid wander off and explore while you shopped. I think it was some kind of a general store (I have no idea what Mom was looking for), and I wandered outside on the store’s sidewalk. There was a blue Harley Panhead parked out front, and it was the first time I ever had a close look at a motorcycle. It was beautiful, and the motor was especially beautiful. It had those early panhead corrugated exhaust headers, fins, cables, chrome, and more. I’ve always been fascinated by all things mechanical, and you just couldn’t find anything more mechanical than a Big Twin engine.

There have been a few Sportsters that do it for me, too, like Harley’s Cafe Racer from the late 1970s. That was a fine-looking machine dominated by its engine. I liked the Harley XR1000, too.

A 1000cc Harley Cafe Racer photographed at one of the Hansen Dam meets. When these were new, they sold for about $3,000.

I’ve previously mentioned my 7th grade fascination with Walt Skok’s Triumph Tiger. It had the same mesmerizing motorrific effect as the big twin Panhead described above. I could stare at that 500cc Triumph engine for hours (and I did). The 650 Triumphs were somehow even more appealing. The mid-’60s Triumphs are the most beautiful motorcycles in the world (you might think otherwise and that’s okay…you have my permission to be wrong).

A 1966 Triumph Bonneville and it’s 650cc twin-carb engine. My Dad rode a Bonneville just like this one.

BSA did a nice job with their engine design, too. Their 650 twins in the ’60s looked a lot like Triumph’s, and that’s a good thing. I see these bikes at the Hansen Dam Norton Owners Club meets. They photograph incredibly well, as do nearly all vintage British twins.

A late1960s BSA at Hansen Dam. These are beautiful motorcycles, too.

When we visited good buddy Andrew in New Jersey recently, he had several interesting machines, but the one that riveted my attention was his Norton P11. It’s 750cc air cooled engine is, well, just wonderful. If I owned that bike I’d probably stare at it for a few minutes every day. You know, just to keep my batteries charged.

Andrew Capone’s P-11 Norton. You can read about our visit with Andrew here.

You know, it’s kind of funny…back in the 1960s I thought Royal Enfield’s 750cc big twins were clunky looking. Then the new Royal Enfield 650 INT (aka the Interceptor to those of us unintimidated by liability issues) emerged. Its appearance was loosely based on those clunky old English Enfields, but the new twin’s Indian designers somehow made the engine look way better. It’s not clunky at all, and the boys from Mumbai made their interpretive copy of an old English twin look more British than the original. The new Enfield Interceptor is a unit construction engine, but the way the polished aluminum covers are designed it looks like a pre-unit construction engine. The guys from the subcontinent hit a home run with that one. I ought to know; after Gresh and I road tested one of these for Enfield North America on a Baja ride, I bought one.

The current iteration of Royal Enfield’s 650cc twin. I rode this bike through Baja and liked it so much I bought one when I returned from Mexico. Here’s more (a lot more) about that adventure.

Another motorcycle that let you see its glorious air-cooled magnificence was the CB750 Honda. It was awesome in every regard and presented well from any angle, including the rear (which is how most other riders saw it on the road). The engine was beyond impressive, and when it was introduced, I knew I would have one someday (I made that dream come true in 1971). I still can’t see one without taking my iPhone out to grab a photo.

A 1969 or 1970 Honda CB 750. This is the motorcycle that put the nail in the British motorcycle industry coffin. I had one just like it.

After Honda stunned the world with their 750 Four, the copycats piled on. Not to be outdone, Honda stunned the world again when they introduced their six-cylinder CBX. I had an ’82. It was awesome. It wasn’t the fastest motorcycle I ever owned, but it was one of the coolest (and what drove that coolness was its air-cooled straight six engine).

A Honda CBX engine photographed at the Del Mar fairgrounds near San Diego. The CBX was a motorcycle that added complexity where none was required. It was an impressive machine.

Like they did with the 750 Four, Kawasaki copied the Honda six cylinder, but the Kawasaki engine was water-cooled and from an aesthetics perspective, it was just a big lump. The Honda was a finely-finned work of art. I never wanted a Kawasaki Six; I still regret selling my Honda CBX. The CBX was an extremely good-looking motorcycle. It was all engine. What completed the look for me were the six chrome exhaust headers emerging from in front. I put 20,000 miles on mine and sold it for what it cost me, and now someone else is enjoying it. The CBX was stunning motorcycle, but you don’t need six cylinders to make a motorcycle beautiful. Some companies managed to do it with just two, and some with only one. Consider the engines mentioned at the start of this piece (Harley, Triumph, BSA, and Norton).

I shot this photo at Hansen Dam, too. I always wanted a mid-’60s Moto Guzzi. Never scratched that itch, though. They sound amazing. Imagine a refined Harley, and you’d have this.

Moto Guzzi’s air-cooled V-twins are in a class by themselves. I love the look and the sound of an air-cooled Guzzi V-twin. It’s classy. I like it.

Some motorcycle manufacturers made machines that were mesmerizing with but a single cylinder, so much so that they inspired modern reproductions, and then copies of those reproductions. Consider Honda’s GB500, and more than a few motorcycles from China and even here in the US that use variants of the GB500 engine.

The Honda GB500, Honda’s nod to earlier British singles. It’s another one I always wanted.

The GB500 is a water cooled bike, but Sochoiro’s boys did it right. The engine is perfect. Like I said above, variants of that engine are still made in China and Italy; one of those engines powers the new Janus 450 Halcyon.

The Janus 450 Halcyon I rode in Goshen. That resulted in a feature story in Motorcycle Classics. It’s engine is by SWM in Italy, which is a variant of the Chinese copy of the GB500 engine. I liked the Janus.

No discussion of mechanical magnificence would be complete without mentioning two of the most beautiful motorcycles ever made: The Brough Superior SS100 and the mighty Vincent. The Brits’ ability to design a visually arresting, aesthetically pleasing motorcycle engine must be a genetic trait. Take a look at these machines.

The Brough Superior SS100. Its engine had a constant loss lubrication system. This is the same motorcycle Lawrence of Arabia rode. One of my grandsons is named T.E. Lawrence.

The mighty Vincent. This and the Brough Superior above were both photographed at Hansen Dam.

Two additional bits of moto exotica are the early inline and air-cooled four-cylinder Henderson, and the Thor, one of the very first V-twin engine designs. Both of these boast American ancestry.

Jay Leno’s 1931 Henderson. He told me he bought it off a 92-year-old guy in Vegas who was getting a divorce and needed to raise cash, and I fell for it.

The Henderson you see above belongs to Jay Leno, who let me photograph it at one of the Hansen Dam Norton gatherings. Incidentally, if there’s a nicer guy than Jay Leno out there, I haven’t met him. The man is a prince. He’s always gracious, and he’s never too busy to talk motorcycles, sign autographs, or pose for photos. You can read about some of the times I’ve bumped into Jay Leno at the Rock Store or the Hansen Dam event right here on ExNotes.

A Thor V-twin photographed at the Franklin Auto Museum in Tucson, Arizona. You almost need a four-year mechanical engineering degree to start one of these. Thor made the first engines for Indian.

Very early vintage motorcycles’ mechanical complexity is almost puzzle-like…they are the Gordian knots of motorcycle mechanical engineering design. I photographed a 1913 Thor for Motorcycle Classics (that story is here), and as I was optimizing the photos I found myself wondering how guys back in the 1910s started the things. I was able to crack the code, but I had to concentrate so hard it reminded me of dear departed mentor Bob Haskell talking about the Ph.Ds and other wizards in the advanced design group when I worked in the bomb business: “Sometimes those guys think so hard they can’t think for months afterward,” Bob told me (both Bob and I thought the wizards had confused their compensation with their capability).

There’s no question in my mind that water cooling a motorcycle engine is a better way to go from an engineering perspective. Water cooling adds weight, cost, and complexity, but the fuel efficiency and power advantages of water cooling just can’t be ignored. I don’t like when manufacturers attempt to make a water-cooled engine look like an air-cooled engine with the addition of fake fins (it somehow conveys design dishonesty). But some marques make water cooled engines look good (Virgil Elings’ comments notwithstanding). My Triumph Speed Triple had a water-cooled engine. I think the Brits got it right on that one.

My 2007 Triumph Speed Triple. Good buddy Marty told me some folks called these the Speed Cripple. In my case, that turned out to be true, but that’s another story for another blog.

My 2015 CSC RX3. Before you go all nuts on me and start whining about Chinese motorcycle quality, I need to tell you I rode these across China, through the Andes Mountains in Colombia, up and down Baja a bunch of times, and all over the American west (you can read about those adventures here). It was one of the best and most comfortable bikes I ever owned.

Zongshen is another company that makes water-cooled engines look right. I thought my RX3 had a beautiful engine and I really loved that motorcycle. I sold it because I wasn’t riding it too much, but the tiny bump in my bank account that resulted from the sale, in retrospect, wasn’t worth it. I should have kept the RX3. When The Big Book Of Best Motorcycles In The History Of The World is written, I’m convinced there will be a chapter on the RX3.

The future of “motor” cycling? This is the CSC RX1E. I rode it and liked it. The silence takes some getting used to.

With the advent of electric motorcycles, I’ve ridden a few and they are okay, but I can’t see myself ever buying one. That’s because as I said at the beginning of this blog, for me a motorcycle is all about the motor. I realize that’s kind of weird, because on an electric motorcycle the power plant actually is a motor, not an internal combustion engine (like all the machines described above). What you mostly see on an electric motorcycle is the battery, which is the large featureless chingadera beneath the gas tank (which, now that I’m writing about it, isn’t a gas tank at all). I don’t like the silence of an electric motorcycle. They can be fast (the Zero I rode a few years ago accelerated so aggressively it scared the hell out of me), but I need some noise, I need to feel the power pulses and engine vibration, and I want other people to hear me. The other thing I don’t care for is that on an electric motorcycle, the power curve is upside down. They accelerate hardest off a dead stop and fade as the motor’s rpm increases; a motorcycle with an internal combustion engine accelerates harder as the revs come up.

Wow, this blog went on for longer than I thought it would. I had fun writing it and I had fun going through my photo library for the pics you see here. I hope you had fun reading it.

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Triumph’s New 400cc Motorcycles

By Joe Berk

Well, what do you know? Triumph is the latest moto manufacturer to jump on the small bike band wagon with the announcement of their new 400cc single-cylinder motorcycles. Not to be too snarky, but better late than never, I suppose. Harley did the same thing a year or so ago with their 350cc and 500cc motorcycles, but the Harleys were supposed to be manufactured and only available in Asia. More’s the pity, although I get it: A small bike wouldn’t go well with the typical Harley crowd.

Back to today’s topic: The new 400cc Triumphs: I like them.

Triumph announced two models: A Speed 400, and a Scrambler 400. They look like Triumphs, which is to say they look fabulous. I like the colors (each will available in three different color themes) and I like the looks.

With a published 40 horsepower, the bikes will probably be good for 100 mph, and that ought to be enough for any sane rider. I’m guessing the bikes will get something around 70 miles per gallon, and that should be good, too. Triumph turned to Bajaj (in India). There’s nothing wrong with that. Triumph’s Bonneville line is manufactured in Thailand. My Enfield 650 (which I’ve been riding for three years) is manufactured in India, and its quality is magnificent. Prices on the new Triumphs haven’t been announced yet. If the Mothership can keep the dealers from pulling their normal freight and setup chicanery, these bikes should be a good deal (but expecting dealers to abandon their larcenous freight and setup games is, I realize, probably wishful thinking).

On that Harley thing I mentioned above: QianJiang (also known QJ Motor) bought Benelli (an Italian motorcycle company) in 2005. QJ took the name and started offering bikes made in China but labeled as Benellis (I saw them at the Canton Fair a few years ago). The QJ/Benelli bikes are not bad looking, but I’ve never ridden one and I have no idea how good (or bad) they are. It’s that very same Benelli (i.e., the Chinese one) that Harley announced would be making 350cc and 500cc small Harleys. The Harley plan was that their smaller models would only be sold overseas (i.e., not in America). Harley makes and sells more motorcycles than I ever will, so I suppose they know what they are doing. But I think they are making a mistake not bringing their small bikes to America.

Look! Up in the sky! It’s a QJ Motor! No, it’s a Benelli! No, it’s Super Harley!

Let’s not forget the new BSA Gold Star, another made-in-India Britbike reported here on the ExNotes blog about a year ago. That one is still in the works, I guess. For a delivery date, the new BSA website still says “available to order soon,” which is to say we have no idea when the new BSA Goldie will be here.

The revivified Beezer Gold Star. I think it is a better-looking bike than either the new Triumph or the small Chinese Harley.

While all this is going on, my friends in Zongshen (they make the RX3, the RX4, the Zongshen 400cc twins, the TT 250, the San Gabriel, and now the RX6 650cc twin that CSC imports to the US) tell me that the craze in China has gone full tilt toward bigger bikes. That’s why they introduced the RX6. I was the first journalist/blogger/all around good guy in America to ride and report on the RX6. It’s a good bike, but I’m not a fan of the movement toward ever larger motorcycles. I’m convinced that my RX3 was the best all around motorcycle I ever owned (especially for riding in Baja), and I’ve written extensively on that.

I’m looking forward to seeing the new Triumphs. Hell, I’d look forward to seeing the new small Harleys and the BSA, too, but maybe that’s not in the cards. Why the fascination and appreciation for small bikes? Take a read here.

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Back in print, and only $9.95!

The Complete Book of Military and Police Motorcycles is back in print. I wrote the book over 20 years ago. Then the Internet accelerated and the printed book market tanked. Paladin Press (the publisher) went out of business, and just like that, so did the book. But that was then and this is now, and The Complete Book of Military and Police Motorcycles is back in print and available on Amazon.

You might wonder: Where did I get that fantastic cover photo? The photo shows Trooper Ralph Dowgin, a New Jersey State Trooper who went on to command Troop D (the Troop that patrols the New Jersey Turnpike, the most heavily-traveled road in the country). I actually met Trooper Dowgin when I was a boy (my Dad knew him). The photo came to me from my good buddy Mike B, who retired as the New Brunswick, New Jersey, Chief of Police. Like they say, it’s a small world.

The story of police and military motorcycles is an intriguing one, espeically as it applies to the US War Department, Indian, and Harley-Davidson. During World War II, the US government bought motorcycles from both Harley and Indian, but the positions taken by Harley and Indian were worlds apart. The Feds told both manufacturers they had to stop producing for the civilian market and focus exclusively on military motorcycles. Indian did what they were told. Harley told the government that they, not some government bureaucrat, would decide who to sell motorcycles to. Harley called the government’s bluff, and they got it right. The War Department continued to buy Harleys as Harley continued selling to the civilian market, and the results were predictable: When the war ended Harley still had a civilian customer base and Indian did not. Indian struggled for a few years trying to regain market share, but the damage was done and the handwriting was on the wall. Indian went under in the early 1950s.

If you buy a copy of The Complete Book of Police and Military Motorcycles, understand that it describes the market as it existed when the book was published in 2001. Things are a little bit different now. Future plans call for an update to include today’s military and police motorcycles, but that’s far in the future and the book will sell for a bunch more than $9.95. I’ll have a Kindle ebook version at some point in the future, too, but it’s not going to be immediate. For now, it’s print only, and it’s only $9.95. Spend the bucks, make a friend for life, and don’t forget: Click on those popup ads!

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Billville and the Collections

People collect for different reasons. Some are completists…they collect to own every variation of an item ever made. Others have a theme…something guides their collecting and they can’t rest until they have acquired items that show all aspects of that theme. Still others are brand loyalists…they want everything associated with a particular marque. Others collect to rekindle memories…items in their collections bring back better times. And people collect different things. All kinds of things.

As I surveyed the expansive and overwhelming contents of Bill’s Old Bike Barn, I wondered: What made Bill tick? What fueled his desire to collect? I asked the question and Bill answered it, but I’ll wait until the end of this blog to share the answer. Hold that thought and we’ll return to it.

When I knew we were going to Pennsylvania and my wife Susie Googled motorcycle museums…well, silly me. I thought we would find a motorcycle museum if I was lucky and it might make a worthy topic for a blog or two. Maybe an article in a motorcycle magazine. Susie gets the credit for finding Bill’s Old Bike Barn. I didn’t realize we had hit the Mother Lode. We had stumbled into a more advanced collection than we had ever seen.

No, wait: I need to restate that. It would be unfair to call what I found in Bill’s Old Bike Barn a collection. I realized when assembling this story that what Bill created is not a mere collection. It is, instead, a collection of collections. Bill’s Old Bike Barn might have started as a motorcycle collection, but it goes beyond that.

Way beyond.

Anybody can collect and display motorcycles. Well, not anybody, but you get the point. In the course of curating a collection, advanced collectors, the guys who go exponential and become collectors of collections, amass collections of all kinds of things. Then the question becomes: How do you display your collections? What’s the right format?

Bill had the answer to that, too.

Billville.

Hey, if your name is Bill, and you have a collection of collections, why not start your own town, and display each collection in different stores and businesses and government offices, all in a magical place called Billville. You see, if you have your own town, you will also have streets on which these shops are located. And you can park different cool motorcycles on the streets in front of the shops. The Billville concept solves several challenges simultaneously. The streets let you display the motorcycles and the shops. People see the shops and what’s in them and they want to add to the collection, so they bring in and contribute more things you can exhibit. The shops grow and the town of Billville thrives. Sense a pattern here?

One of many streets in Billville. The streets in Billville are lined with something even better than gold: Vintage motorcycles and Bill’s collection of collections. Bill’s collections are hypnotic in their appeal.

Being a world-renown blogger and motojournalist, I had the grand tour of Billville, led by Bill himself. Bill led, I followed, and my jaw dropped with each turn and every stop in Billville. Billville. I get it. It’s brilliant.

The Billville camera shop. Nothing is for sale, much is on display, and the inventory exceeds 6,000 pieces.

We started in front of the Billville camera shop. I had my Nikon D810 along for the shots you see here. I’ve been a photography enthusiast all my life. I asked Bill if he was into photography, too, when he mentioned the camera shop. “Nah, I just had a few cameras on display. Folks see that and they come back a week later with a bag of old cameras. There’s more than 6,000 cameras in the collection now.”

There’s a very cool Norton parked in front of the Billville Camera Shop. The bike behind it is a Velocette. Per capita motorcycle ownership in Billville is off the charts. Billville is huge, the streets are long, the shops are amazing, and the collections are dreamlike. Pick a collectible item, and there’s a Billville shop housing a collection for it. Into Coca-Cola memorabilia?

An Aermacchi Harley and Harley’s attempt to penetrate the scooter market, the Topper, parked in front of the Billville Coca-Cola shop.

You can’t have a town without a police department, and police paraphernalia are collectible. Billville has its own PD, with a police stuff collection.

The Billville PD and its neighbor…a shop with walls constructed entirely of collectible beer cans.

Every police officer who wanders through the Billville PD probably leaves a department patch.

The Billville PD has, as you might imagine, its own contingent of motor officers.

Bill told a funny story about visiting firemen. After seeing the collections, they asked Bill if Billville had a fire department. When they asked the question, Billville did not. So the visiting fireman offered to donate their vintage fire engine if Bill would build the Billville Fire Department around it.

A vintage Mack fire engine. A local fire department donated it.

“Then I had to make a fire bike,” Bill said. After all, this is a motorcycle museum.

Bill and his personally-crafted fire bike. This is cool stuff.

Bicycles? You bet. Billville has an interesting collection. Check out the badging on the one shown in these photos.

Harley-Davidson. I had never seen one of these before visiting Bill’s Old Bike Barn.

My Nikon was earning its keep during my visit to Bill’s Old Bike Barn. If you make the trip, don’t forget your camera.

Some people collect toys. Bill is one of them. What would a town be without a toy store?

Another place to display one of Bill’s collections. That’s a cool two-stroke Harley parked on the street in front of it.

Billville has a post office and a restaurant. Take a look at the ornamental wrought iron surrounding the restaurant. Bill told me he purchased huge quantities of wrought iron when he was buying up motorcycle dealer inventories in Europe.

The Billville post office is on the left; the restaurant is on the right.

A vintage bike in front of the finest dining in Billville.

Are you into Avon collectables? Billville has you covered there, too.

A 1970s Harley two-stroke and a vintage CL Honda Scrambler. Bill’s collections are extensive and varied.

There are several spiral cases throughout Billville. I thought they were purely decorative. But there seemed to be more to see upstairs, so I climbed one. My reward was more collections. How about phones? Yep, those, too.

Some of the phones in the Bill’s Old Bike Barn phone collection…

Bill told me again about people bringing things to him. Matchbox cars? Why not?

Matchbox cars line a wall. There’s something for everyone here. Dads, moms, and kids.

Into horse collectibles? You bet.

As you might guess, there was an area for Elvisabilia (or should that be Presleyana?).

If you were wondering, Billville has a dentist’s office, too, complete with vintage dentistry equipment.

Vintage dental stuff. The photo ops in Bill’s Old Bike Barn were endless.

And, of course, Billville includes the motorcycles, motorcycle engines, and everything-associated-with-motorcycles collection. Bill’s collection doesn’t stick to only one marque. You’ll see Harley, Indian, Moto Guzzi, Triumph, Norton, Velocette, Honda, Yamaha, Zündapp, Peugeot, and many, many more motorcycles.

An airbrush painting on one of Bill’s trailers. Check out the vintage Harley and sidecar.

Now, check out the actual vintage Harley and sidecar.

A vintage Knucklehead in the main hall. Note the spiral staircases on the right. There’s more up there, folks. Lots more.

Vintage Indians. Some are left unrestored; others are restored to better-than-new condition.

Bill’s collection is eclectic. The collections themselves are eclectic, and within the collection, the pieces Bill has exhibited vary widely. He’s not just a Harley guy or an Indian guy. He likes anything that’s interesting. You saw the prior blog about Bill’s favorite ride, a Zündapp. Other bikes pepper his collection, including one I always wanted…an early SL350 Honda twin. It’s the color I always wanted, too, and it’s in its 100% original, unrestored condition. I stared at the SL so hard I might have worn away some of its paint.

Ah, the mileage on the SL350 Honda…the motorcycle is over half a century old, and it has but 4,000 miles on the clock. Wow.

So, back to that question I posed at the top of this blog: What makes a collector collect? Everyone has their reasons, and like I said at the beginning of this blog, I wanted to know Bill’s. I asked the question. Bill smiled, lowered his gaze, and answered softly. “I like to see peoples’ reactions when they see the collections,” he said. That being the case, I think Bill must have really enjoyed our visit. We sure did.

A sparkadillo. There’s a lot of folk art in Bill’s Old Bike Barn.

Our first blog on Bill’s Old Bike Barn? Hey, here it is:

Bill Morris: The Man. It’s a great story.

Military motorcycle half-tracks? You bet!

With 200 motorcycles in his collection, Bill’s personal favorite might surprise you!

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Geezer on a Beezer

The latest news to sweep across the ether is that BSA is being revived in India. Eh, we’ll see.

I’m naturally skeptical about revivals. Lord knows Norton has been through a few, and last I checked, like Julius Caesar they’re still dead. Indian (not bikes from India, but the American Indian brand) should maybe be called the Easter bike based on how many times they’ve been resurrected. And there was Henderson for a while maybe 20 years ago (remember that flash in the pan?). Triumph…well you know that story. They rose again, but it wasn’t really the original Triumph…it was just the name, but then they reintroduced the vertical twin Bonneville, except the displacement increased until the marvelous 650cc we used to know grew to 1200cc and the bike gained a couple of hundred pounds, give or take. I’d like to see Bud Ekins jump one of the new Bonnevilles escaping from a German POW camp. He might have better luck getting airborne with a Panzer.

And then of course there’s Royal Enfield, but they’re technically not a resurrection. They never went out of business. Well, maybe they sort of did, but before the Japanese bikes drove the final nail in the British motorcycle industry coffin (with a lot of help from the British motorcycle industry, who’s official motto seemed to be “too little, too late”), the original Royal Enfield (the folks in England) starting building bikes in India, and when the Brits went belly up, the folks running the Indian plant watched, shrugged, and kept on building. I ride an Indian Royal Enfield, but it’s not an Indian like most folks in the US motorcycling community use the word. Well, okay, it is, but it’s from India. It’s not a Polaris Indian from America.

Confused yet?

This BSA thing might be cool, though. I’d like to see it work, and if it works as well as my Royal Enfield (which is as fine as any motorcycle made anywhere), it would be a good thing. I always wanted a Beezer when I was a kid, and I suppose owning one now would make me a geezer with a Beezer (like the kid’s book, Sheep in a Jeep).

In the meantime, here are a few more photos I’ve shot of BSAs at the Hansen Dam Britbike meet in California, in Australia, and elsewhere over the years. We can only hope the resurrected bikes look as good.

You know what I’d like to see? I’d like to see two bikes from the 1960s resurrected…a 1966 Triumph T120R and a 1965 Electra Glide (the last year of the Panhead, and the first year of the electric start). Those are two of the most beautiful motorcycles ever made. The HD photo below is an earlier Duo Glide, but you get the idea. Make them reliable, substitute enough aluminum for steel so that when you add all the smog and other regulatoria the bikes weigh in at their mid-’60s weights, and make them reliable. Zongshen, you guys listening?

If they did either of those two resurrections, I’d be in. In a heartbeat. I’d be Charley on a Harley. Johnnie on a Bonny. Whatever.

Hey, if resurrections are what you want, check this out!

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The Lyon Air Museum

This is a cool story. Good buddy Mike was visiting us here in Leftist Lunacy Land (i.e., the Peoples Republik of Kalifornia, where I hang my hat) and we thought we were running out of things to do. Sue hopped on the Internet and found the Lyon Air Museum near John Wayne Airport in Orange County. I’d never heard of the place, but it was awesome. As expected, the Museum had the obligatory collection of restored World War II aircraft, but (to my surprise) the place also housed a great collection of vintage motorcycles and more than a few interesting cars. Take a look at the motorcycles.

1945 Indian **340B** as used by the US Army.

1943 German NSU Kettenkrad HK 101 Tracked Motorcycle.

1943 Japanese Rikuo Motorcycle and Sidecar.

**A 1931 Panther Motorcycle with sidecar**.

A 750cc German Zundapp, another motorcycle used by Germany in World War II.

The Museum was founded by Major General William Lyon, an entrepreneur and civic leader based in southern California. The William H. Lyon Company is one of the largest real estate developers in the world. General Lyon died a few years ago at age 97.

There are many interesting aircraft on display inside the Museum. One of the coolest exhibits was outside the display area, however, on the tarmac just outside. That’s the highly-polished B-25 that was General Lyon’s personal aircraft.

On the tarmac, just outside the display area.

The Lyon Air Museum is located at 19300 Ike Jones Road in Santa Ana, California. You can learn more about the Lyon Air Museum here. Trust me on this: It’s worth the ride. You’ll have a good time.

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Nine Reasons Why You Should Ride A Chinese Motorcycle

Sometimes we’ll do a blog just to get folks fired up, you know, like the mainstream media does. And if there’s one thing we’ve learned, it’s that there’s no better format for lighting a fire than a listicle. Listicles get lots of hits, they’re fun to write, and they offend the easily offended. If the topic is controversial, all three reasons are amplified. With that as an introduction and in these times of human rights violations, a new cold war, and a town called Wuhan, what could be more controversial than a list of reasons why you should ride a Chinese motorcycle?

Reason 1: Cost

Hey, what can I say? Buy a Beemer or a Ducati or a KTM, and you’ll pay twice what those bikes should cost. Buy a Harley….well, I don’t need to finish the sentence. Triumphs and the Big 4 Japanese bikes cost about what I think they ought to, but a Chinese bike will be way lower than any of these. And when you buy a Chinese motorcycle, you probably won’t do so through a conventional motorcycle dealer, so you won’t get bent over a barrel on freight and setup fees.

Nearly $1600 on freight and setup on a $6600 motorcycle!

Chinese motorcycles simply cost less. And if you want to come back at me by claiming Chinese bikes have no resale value…well, read on, Grasshopper.

Reason 2: Resale Value

This one may surprise you. The argument you hear from online motorcycle wizards (when they’re not being online military strategists, political scientists, or infectious disease experts) is that Chinese motorcycles have no resale value. I’m sure glad the guys who bought the two Chinese motorcycles I bought new and rode for several years didn’t know that. When I advertised my RX3 and TT 250, one sold the same day for 60% of what it cost new; the other sold the next day for 70% of what it cost new. And that was after I’d owned those bikes for 5 years.

My TT 250 on Route 66. Freight and setup on the motorcycle in the photo above would have nearly paid for this bike!

I suppose I could have taken that money and bought a used Sportster, but I went another route: I bought an Indian motorcycle. Not Indian as in Scout or Chief, but Indian as in chicken masala or curry. I wasn’t getting into enough catfights riding a Chinese motorcycle, I guess.

Reason 3: Reliability

This is another advantage that will put those who know so much that just isn’t so in low earth orbit. I never had a breakdown on any of my Chinese bikes, and that includes big trips in the US, a ride around China (yep, China), a circumnavigation of the Andes Mountains in Colombia, and lots of Baja. I led tours in the Southwest and up and down Baja for CSC Motorcycles, with 8 to 15 bikes on each of those thousand-mile-plus trips, with only one bike ever needing to be trailered home.

You can tell me about your buddy who knows a guy whose cousin bought a Chinese bike and had problems with it, but I know you know not of what you speak. I’ve been there. I know different. I know a little bit about reliability engineering, too. The Chinese bikes I’ve been around are supremely reliable.

Reason 4: Performance

Will a Chinese bike smoke a Hayabusa? You know the answer to that. Or at least, you know the answer today. Look at what’s coming down the road from China and your answer may not ring true for much longer. China has at least a couple of liter bikes on the horizon. They won’t be slow.

What’s coming down the pike from Chongqing…

Within their displacement classes, the Chinese bikes perform as good as, or maybe even better than the small displacement bikes from Germany or Japan.

Deutschland? Nein! Das ist ein Mumbai maschinen!

Japanese? Nope. This puppy will help you Thai one on.

Hell, those other bikes aren’t even made where you think they’re made. Ask me how I know. Want some Pad Thai with your KLR or Triumph Bonneville?

Reason 5: Self-Reliance

“But there’s no dealers!” or so goes the anti-China whine. (Actually, China has some good wines, but I digress.) With regard to the lugubrious (look it up) “there’s no dealer” wails, I have two responses.

I used to be able to say that I’ve seen the same number of BMW, Harley, KTM, and other big name dealers in Baja as I saw for Chinese manufacturers (that number was zero). But I can’t say that anymore. Italika (a Mexican company, the Romanesque name notwithstanding) now imports Zongshens to Mexico, so you’ll actually have better dealer coverage in Mexico with a Chinese bike than you would with a BMW, a Harley, a Triumph, a Ducati, or any other other macho man motorcycle. It’s even more pronounced if your travels take you to South America; Chinese bikes are all over down there.

So that’s one response; the other is: You say “there are no dealers” like it’s a bad thing. Maybe my life experiences are unique, but I don’t think so. Whenever I’ve had work done by dealers, most of the time it was so poorly executed I had to do it over myself. I’d rather save the time and cut the cost associated with letting some kid learn motorcycle maintenance on my bike (while the dealer charges me $125 per hour as Junior learns). Nope, not having dealers is a good thing.

It’s from India and it runs as well as a Chinese motorcycle, which is to say, it’s good. I do all the routine maintenance on the Enfield myself.

I know this approach is not for everybody. Some guys like working on their bikes, some guys like Starbucks, some guys like clutches that rattle, and some guys like tattoos and chrome. Whatever floats your boat.

Reason 6: Fuel Economy

Both my Chinese 250s sipped fuel like The New York Times ingesting truth serum. My carbureted TT 250 got about 60 miles per gallon; my fuel injected RX3 always did better than 70 miles per gallon.

My last Harley was a 40-miles-per-gallon bike when new, and when I put an S&S stroker motor in it, it joined the 33-miles-per-gallon club and I received a personal thank you note from the Emir. Yamaha’s old V-Max got 27 mpg. Yeah, I know, there’s a huge difference in displacement between a Harley and a China bike. But if you don’t like spending $5 bucks a gallon for Biden gas, a Chinese motorcycle can lessen the pain.

Reason 7: Style

You know, all those years I rode an RX3, the keyboard commandos criticized the bike for copying BMW’s styling.

Gobi Gresh, on a Chinese motorcycle, riding in the Gobi desert. 6000 miles in the ancient kingdom with nine other riders on China bikes, and nobody missed a beat.

Hell, I can’t see much of a difference in any of the ADV bikes’ styling for the last 15 or 20 years. They all look like the illegitmate offspring of a wasp mating with an armored personnel carrier. It’s the ADV style. I think it looks good. And unlike the Teutonic Tower bikes (you know, the Special K and GoSlow machines), I could get my leg over the RX3’s saddle.

Reason 8: Individuality

At one of the Love Rides (do they still even do those anymore?) Jay Leno was the grand marshall, and when he got up on stage, he asked if anybody had seen his buddy. “You know, the gray-haired guy with the black Harley T-shirt and pot belly…” It got a good laugh, but a lot of rugged individualist podiatrists, dentists, lawyers, and other pseudo-bad-asses were looking around nervously. You know what I mean. The folks at the River Runs could be made by a cookie cutter. Their moms all dress them the same. BMW riders? Stop in at any Starbuck’s and check out the Power Rangers inside. It’s the same deal.

One of the Hollister events, where all the individualists converge. They’re all trying to be Marlon Brando.

Ride a Chinese motorcycle, though, and you’ll stand apart. Trust me on this…you won’t bump into too many people riding a Zongshen or a Loncin at the Rock Store. Other riders may make snarky comments about your bike in ignorance, without knowing where many of the parts on their bikes are made (that’s because their manufacturers try to keep it a secret, as explained below).

Reason 9: You May Already Be On A Chinese Motorcycle…

…but you just don’t know it. Some bikes that you think are made in Japan are actually completely manufactured in China. Others have significant Chinese content. I’m not just talking bits and pieces…I’m referring to castings, electronics, and in some cases, the complete engine (it’s no accident you sometimes hear Chinese factory technicians humming the Horst Wessel song). You ubermensch riders on a first-name basis with your barristas know who you are, but did you know you’re already riding a China bike? I know…we live in a free country. If you feel comfortable spending $5 for a cup of coffee when you should be buying 技术支持隆鑫 decals (it means Powered by Loncin) for your $1800 panniers, more power to you.

So there you have it. I could make excuses and blame this entire blog on Gresh (the topic was his idea), but that’s not me. And for all you guys who look at the Chinese motorcycles I’ve owned and tell me “You Coulda Bought A Used Sportster” (sung to the tune of I’m A Yankee Doodle Dandy), well, all I can say is “heh heh heh.”

Got a response? Hey, leave it here…don’t be a wuss and leave it on Facebook. We want to hear from you!

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ExhaustNotes Review: Harley-Davidson Sportster LC

I’ve typed a lot of words and rearranged them in a zillion different ways but I’ve never coined a phrase. Those days are over now and you heard it here first: The Sportster LC. It’s all mine and don’t forget who came up with it because I may never do another.

Harley’s quantum leap forward takes the Sportster from 1950s technology all the way into the 1990s and beyond. The new Sportster features fuel injection, liquid cooling, a claimed 120 horsepower and a passing resemblance to Sportsters of old. That’s all good stuff, man.

I’ve always liked Sportsters. Until the V-Rod came along they were the most advanced American-built Harleys you could buy and with the addition of electronic ignition they were the most reliable Harleys to boot. I owned a Sportster and loved how it looked parked, which it did a lot because the old 1968 XLH shook itself to pieces every 200 miles. Nevertheless it was an easy motorcycle to fix and my old Sporty never left me stranded.

The Sportster LC is a completely new model that has been the worst kept secret since the Pan American, which uses the same engine. With a bore of 4.13 inches and a shortish stroke of only 2.85 inches the new two-cylinder Sportster displaces 76.4 cubic inches in total, or ½ a bushel. We never converted to metric in the USA. Each head contains two cams pushing on four valves. With a 12:1 compression ratio you’ll be running high-test unless you’re under 50 years old in which case you’ll be stuck using premium. Harley’s combustion chambers have forced owners to buy high-test for years so nothing has changed except the power output. None of these design features is new thinking: it’s a well-trod path to modern performance numbers.

Harley claims 120 horsepower; that’s probably measured at the wrist pin so I expect 105-108-ish at the wheel, plenty for street riding. The Sportster LC puts out a claimed 94 ft-lbs of torque so taking off from a stoplight should be drama free. A claimed wet weight of 502 pounds is positively sprightly and undercuts the base model Pan American by 32 pounds. 32 pounds is a lot of weight. I’ve ridden 500-pound motorcycles in the dirt and it’s the absolute limit I would consider safe. The LC should be fun on graded county roads.

Styling on the LC is squashed and compact, almost like the bike fell into a car crusher but was retrieved before becoming a cube. There are no air gaps and the big, fat tires on both ends give the LC an overstuffed living room couch look. I’m not sold on the looks but it’s passable even if it seems to copy the Indian Scout. There are only so many ways to configure a crushed V-twin so the plagiarism is probably unintended. I like the upswept pipes, they give the LC a flat-track racer vibe and that’s a good vibe to have.

Things get a little nasty on the left side of the LC. Without the big upswept exhaust covering the mess all the complexity of a modern motorcycle is exposed. Let’s face it: The thing looks like a commercial air conditioning system from the left side. Still, I wouldn’t let the LC’s looks stop me from buying one assuming I would ever spend $15,000 on a damn motorcycle.

The looks won’t stop me from buying one but the seat-to-foot peg layout might. I can’t stand forward controls. I get that with the ultra low seat there would be no way to fold your legs tight enough for a more normal foot peg placement. Maybe Harley will come out with a Sportster LC Sport with more suspension, a higher seat and controls situated in such a way that you can ride the bike.

The LC comes with Bluetooth connectivity, cornering rider safety enhancements, ABS, traction control, selectable riding modes and cruise control. All stuff I hate except for cruise control. You may like dick-dogging with that electronic chaff but I’d rather ride a motorcycle than play digital commander. Hopefully pulling a few fuses and a warning light or two will disarm all that junk.

With only one disc stopping 120 horsepower and 650 pounds of bike and lightweight rider I sense the front brake may not be up to the modern standards of the engine and electronics package. I hope I’m wrong. Big fat tires usually make for a ponderous ride, but again, I hope I’m wrong. I seem to be doing a lot of hoping I’m wrong with this Harley Davidson.

What’s it like to ride? How would I know? I never get invited to Harley press junkets so you’ll have to get to one of H-D’s test ride events to find that out. My impression of the bike is that it’s a big improvement over the old Sportster but without the old Sporty’s provenance the LC has a long way to go before it reaches the beloved status the 1957 and up models achieved.

I guess what I liked about the old model was the tactile feel of sitting atop explosions propelling you down the highway. You never forgot you were riding a motorcycle. The Sportster didn’t become a legend by accident. Years of competition, countless race victories, heroic rides, and a fairly solid bottom end crank assembly and gearbox has made the Sportster a motorcycle everyone wants to buy used. I still want a XR1200R Sportster bad and have since I first saw one. Only time will tell if the new Sportster LC will be able to burrow into my heart the same bad-like way.

More ExhaustNotes Reviews, and more ExhaustNotes Dream Bikes await!

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Pan America Adventure Motorcycle: The World’s First No-Compromise Harley-Davidson

What does that even mean, no compromise?

Hear me out. Like you I’ve read all the reviews on Harley’s new Pan America Adventure-Glide and they have been uniformly positive. Surprising is the word most frequently used by the tattered remnants of the moto-press when describing the Pan America. And it is surprising.

I’m not likely to ever test ride a Pan America. I offer Harley-Davidson nothing but suffering and heartache. Why would Harley loan me a bike in a category I pretty much despise? I can’t stand big Adventure bikes. I don’t like them one little bit. I think they are dangerous off road. Anyone who sends me one to test ride is a fool and Harley-Davidson’s marketing department is not populated by fools. Luckily I don’t need to ride one because Kevin Duke, the hardest working man in motorcycle journalism, says the Pan America is a good bike and that’s all you really need to know.

The no compromise hook in this story is the most impressive part of the new Pan America. It’s the first Harley (since the late 1960s) that competes head to head with the best the world has to offer and does it at a competitive price. In all areas the new bike is acceptable, meets expectations and is even, dare I say, good.

Most all the high-end, heavy, dangerously inadequate offroad Adventure bikes clock in at around 20,000 US dollars retail and they all weigh nearly the same ground-crushing 600 pounds. It must be a class requirement. Check out the manufacturer-provided spec sheets on a GS BMW, Ducati Multi Service, and KTM Breakdown. All of the numbers are within spitting distance of each other.

And that’s the amazing part. Harley-frigging-Davidson has made a competent motorcycle for the same price as everyone else. There’s no brand penalty. Harley-Davidson has made a motorcycle that the owner isn’t required to look through leather-fringed, nostalgia-tinted lenses to justify. No more having to tell non-Harley riders that they don’t get it when their questions turn pointed. Like all cults, the Harley cult requires actively looking the other way when hard facts and performance figures per dollar are bandied about.

With the Pan America there’s no need to believe in the Harley mystique. There’s no need to defend anemic performance by waving an American flag. The Pan America stands on its own merits as a motorcycle, nothing more. Is it as good as the other big Adventure bikes? I can’t say but the fact that it’s spoken of in the same breath and held up in comparison to the world’s best Adventure bikes is a stunning turnaround for a company that seemed hopelessly stuck in neutral by its mad marketing genius.

As much as I hate big Adventure bikes, I love the new Harley-Davidson Pan America.

I hope it’s a harbinger of change. I hope it succeeds beyond Harley’s wildest dreams and ushers in a new era of 150-horsepower Sportsters that handle, stop and are as fast as any other guy’s bikes. The late 1960s was the last time Sportsters were hot. That’s a long, long time to rest on your laurels. Let’s hope the Pan American gives stodgy old Harley-Davidson new life and a desire to be measured against the very best. Listen, if there’s any way you can afford to go out and buy one, go out and buy one. Tell Harley I sent you. Maybe they’ll even let me take one for a ride.

Berk, on right, telling Gresh to go back to Starbucks and fetch a Pumpkin Spice Latte for him.

Five Best Motorcycle Books Ever

Listicles, Gresh calls them…articles based around the (fill in the number) best things to do, worst things to do, motorcycles, movies, and more. One of Gresh’s friends told him that lists get more hits than any other kind of Internet article. I was a bit skeptical when I first heard that, but Google Analytics doesn’t lie: When we do a listicle, our hits go up big time. And comments, too. We like comments. And a lot of this blogging game is about the hits and comments. Gresh’s The 5 Stupidest Ideas in Motorcycling, my recent The Big Ride: 5 Factors Affecting Daily Mileage, and other ExNote listicles…they’ve all done extremely well.

This listicle thing has me thinking in terms of the five best whatever when I’m spitballing new blog ideas, and the list du jour is on motorcycle books. It’s a topic near and dear to my heart and one we’ve touched on lightly before, although the emphasis in the past has usually been on a single book. I think I’ve read just about every motorcycle book ever published, and I particularly like the travel stories. That said, I think this introduction is long enough. Let’s get to it.

Riding the Edge

Riding the Edge, in my opinion, 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.

I know Dave Barr and I’ve ridden with him. I can tell you that he is one hell of a man, and Riding the Edge is one hell of a story. The ride took four years, mostly because Dave pretty much 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 read Riding the Edge nearly two decades ago, and it’s the book that lit my fire for international motorcycle riding. None of the rides I’ve done (even though I’ve ridden through a few of the countries Barr did) begins to approach Dave Barr’s accomplishments. The guy is my hero.

Riding the Edge is written in an easy, conversational style. I’ve probably read my copy a half-dozen times. In fact, as I type this, I’m thinking I need to put it on my nightstand and read some of my favorite parts again. If you go for any of the books on this list, Riding the Edge is the one you have to read.

The Longest Ride

Emilio Scotto. Remember that name, and remember The Longest Ride. This is a guy who had never left his native Argentina, thought it might be cool to see the world on a motorcycle, bought a Gold Wing (which he named the Black Princess), and then…well, you can guess the rest. He rode around the world on a motorcycle.

Emilio took 10 years for his trip around the world, and he covered 500,000 miles in the process. He’s another guy who is good with a camera. I thoroughly enjoyed The Longest Ride. I think you will, too.

Two Wheels Through Terror

Glen Heggstad…that’s another name you want to remember. Mix one martial arts expert, a Kawasaki KLR 650, a kidnaping (his own), a trip through South America, and a natural propensity for writing well and you’ll have Two Wheels Through Terror. I love the book for several reasons, including the fact that Mr. Heggstad used a KLR 650 (one of the world’s great adventure touring motorcycles), the way he tells the story of his kidnaping in Colombia (a country I rode in), and his wonderful writing.

I’ve met Glen a couple of times. The first time was at a local BMW dealership when he spoke of his travels; the second time was at his booth at the Long Beach International Motorcycle Show. Glen is a hell of a man, a hell of a writer, and a hell of a fighter (all of which emerge in Two Wheels Through Terror). He is a guy who just won’t quit when the going gets tough. I admire the man greatly.

Jupiter’s Travels

Ah, Ted Simon, one of the granddaddies of adventure motorcycle riding. I’d heard about his book, Jupiter’s Travels, for years before I finally bought a copy and read it, and then I felt like a fool for not having read it sooner.

Jupiter’s Travels was one of the first books about riding a motorcycle around the world, and what made it all the more interesting for me was that Simon didn’t do it as a publicity stunt. No big sponsors, no support vehicles, no nothing, a lot like the other great journeys on this list. It was what the guy wanted to do, so he quit his job and did it. Simon’s bike was a 500cc air-cooled Triumph, and I liked that, too. I’m a big fan of the old British vertical twins (the Triumph was a state-of-the-motorcycle-art when Ted Simon did his ride). Trust me on this, folks: Jupiter’s Travels is a motoliterature classic, and it’s one you need to read.

10 Years on 2 Wheels

Helge Pedersen is another name you want to know. He is a phenomenal world traveler, writer, and photographer, and 10 Years on 2 Wheels is a phenomenal read.

What sets 10 Years on 2 Wheels apart is the photography, and you get a sense of that just by seeing the cover (this is one of those rare books that you can, indeed, judge by its cover). 10 Years on 2 Wheels is what inspired me to get serious about capturing great photographs during my travels, and Helge’s photos are fabulous (they’re art, actually). This is a physically large book, and that makes the images even more of a treat.

Next Up: The Five Worst Motorcycle Books

Look for a blog in the near future on the five worst motorcycle books I’ve ever read. That one will be tough, because I pretty much like any book about motorcycles, but I’m guessing it will elicit a lot of comments.

So that’s it: Our list of the five best motorcycle books. What do you think? Leave your comments and suggestions here. We want to hear them!

More book reviews? You can find them here!

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