Donny Petersen’s name is probably familiar to a lot of bikers, especially readers of American Iron Magazine, in which he’s been writing the Techline column since 1992. This Canadian biker is also an entrepreneur in his own right, having founded and operated Heavy Duty Cycles in Toronto in 1974. Touted as “the world’s most read Harley technical journalist,” he’s arguably among the most knowledgeable wrenches in the business when it comes to all things Harley. A Twinkie rider myself, when I learned his treatise on the Twin Cam had been published, I jumped online and ordered a copy.
I wasn’t disappointed. Volume 1: The Twin Cam is no literary masterpiece to be sure. In fact, it could have benefited immensely at the hands of a ruthless editor with a lot of red ink, as well as some careful proofreading before the final manuscript went to press. The photography, all black and white, ranges from poor to acceptable, and the book would be a lot more user-friendly if it had a comprehensive index, but it is extensively footnoted. Still, it’s a damn good compilation of the Twin Cam’s innovations and boondoggles, from the first 88-cubic inch power plant of 1998 to 2007-2008’s 96-cubic inch, fuel injected stroker.
Donny’s story begins in March 1998 when he, Buzz Kanter, and Chris Maida were sworn to secrecy and invited to Milwaukee, WI by Harley-Davidson to, in Donny’s words, “learn every facet possible about this new motorcycle . . . and teach the riding public through our writing.” Under the tutelage of seven Harley engineers, the trio spent four 15-hour days learning about the new engine. The kicker was that they couldn’t discuss or write about it until June 25, 1998.
Donny and company also can take credit for one of the Twin Cam’s nicknames: the Fathead. In fact, it was referred to as such in many issues of AIM, but like the Evo’s Blockhead moniker, it never really stuck. The riding public seems to prefer calling the Evo the Evo, and they affectionately refer to Harley’s Twin Cam as a Twinkie. The Factory probably doesn’t approve of either Twin Cam handle, but that’s the breaks.
But enough about names; let’s talk about the book, which opens with the usual disclaimers, acknowledgements, a preface from Chris Maida, and an intro from Donny, in which he describes the Twin Cam as Harley’s “most radical departure from the past since the introduction of the Knucklehead in 1936.” A glance at the table of contents in this first volume of what is planned to be a 12-volume set shows it to be well-organized into nine chapters. Although effusive in his praise of the Twin Cam, Donny pulls no punches when discussing the engineering screw-ups, as indicated in some of the chapter titles listed below:
1.March 1998: Introduction of the Twin Cam
2.1999-2000 Teething Problems
3.Timing Chest Breakdowns and Solutions
4.Harley Oil Leaks: Marking its Spot
5.Twin Cam Heads: Deficient Air Flow
6.Retrofitting the Twin Cam Engine into Old Style Frames
7.The Controversial Harley 6-Speed Transmission
8.The 2007 TC96 Engine
9.Twin Cam Summary
My biggest gripe about this book isn’t about the technical content, which, in my opinion, is superlative. However, the book reads like a haphazard recompilation of Donny’s Techline columns, many of which were not serial in nature. As a result, the text is often choppy, very redundant, and lacking in continuity. This is where Donny would have benefited from the heavy-handed editor I mentioned earlier in this review. Compiling a bunch of magazine articles into a cohesive manuscript is a tough row to hoe, and it’s even tougher when those articles weren’t originally written as a sequential series. Ruthless editing, lots of rewriting, and proofreading (the book is rife with typographical and grammatical errors) can be an author’s lifeline.
As a whole, though, Donny’s writing style is direct, concise, and to the point, making it easy for even a layman like me to understand. He’s one of those writers who realizes that you don’t need to use a 50-cent word when a 10-cent word will do. He has one aggravating habit, though: Practically every sentence he writes is a separate paragraph. As an experienced technical writer myself, I’m a big advocate of short, succinct paragraphs, but Donny has overdone it.
The quality of the black and white photographs is so-so. However, Donny explains that the lighting conditions they had available during their 1998 visit to the factory were far from ideal. I also suspect that many of the more recent photos in his book are black and white copies of color prints, and those tend not to reproduce well.
Of course, it’s easy for me to criticize Donny’s book, but I’m equally critical of my own writing (and Bandit’s; just ask him!). Just as Donny says in his closing summary that it’s easy for us to criticize Harley-Davidson for its many foibles.
“The Twin Cam,” Donny writes, “is the best ever Harley-Davidson Big Twin . . . in terms of reliability, speed, and longevity. This platform for the future is just that, a stage to build on.”
Pretty impressive words from a man who has wrenched, built, and ridden virtually every Big Twin there is. Like the Twinkie, Donny’s Volume 1: The Twin Cam is far from perfect, but it’s quite possibly the best 438-page technical discussion of the Twin Cam written to date. You can order your copy online from www.iuniverse.com for $27.95.
