When I'm riding my classic Indians I often hear folks say,” You can't ride old bikes very far, they're unreliable.” I chuckle, kick the dust alongside the highway, and explain.
“It's not the motorcycle that's the problem, it's the builder. Most motorcycles are damn reliable, if well built,” I tell 'em. My expertise and business is Indian motorcycles. I ride my Indians everyday, build new ones, and design parts for them. I work on Kiwi Indians day in and day out for a living.
There's no doubt about it, they are basic machines with a level of mechanical simplicity. While there are a ton of bench racing experts, very few are real experts who know the ins-and-outs of vintage machines. I kicked off my dedication to the Indian marquee several decades ago, and I have been fascinated with the mechanical engineering, which most would say today is very basic. In the '40s that wasn't the case. Indians were state of the art until the overhead valve engine came along.
In addition to the mechanical simplicity, I was drawn to the sexy styling of the Indian, created by Briggs Weaver who left his mark in the styling journals of American automotive/motorcycling styling. I really love this guy, as he brought unique art deco styling to Indians and forced Harley in 1949 to finally have a trademark style with its nacelle headlight and FL style fender. Heck, Briggs started revolutionizing Indians style in the early 1930s. He was way ahead of his time and is lost in our current history books.
To understand what motorcycling is really about, one has to get on a bike and ride. In my case, I don't have anything other than an Indian to ride and my latest model is a 1953 Chief. Over the past 21 years of building Kiwi Indian into the business it is today, I have designed and manufactured approx 2500 different part numbers. Many of them are not reproductions, but re-engineered components for vintage Indians.
Each improved Kiwi part was developed with behind-the-handlebars engineering. It's easy to sit in an office and dream up a part, which on paper may appear well thought out, but I like to dream when I'm riding behind the handlebars and rolling down the road, imagining each part working with its mate and how it could be improved. It doesn't matter what motorcycle it is. They all need behind-the-bars testing and improvements, especially Harleys, but I'd better leave that one alone.
My everyday transportation is an Indian, to and from work whether it is a hot, cold or wet. If I have to run into LA from Riverside, it's on an Indian. If I have to haul parts or steel, it's on an Indian with a side hack. If the material is long (12' lengths of steel bar stock) it gets strapped to the side hack chassis between the bike and the hack with a red rag tied to the flapping end. That's how stuff got done in the old days and I still do it today. I also enjoy putting miles on our new Kiwi-built bikes, as I claim that anyone can jump on one of our new bikes and ride from LA to NY without putting a spanner on it. Then if they wish to do so jump right back on it and ride back to LA.
A few months ago, my cousin and her family came out from New Zealand to visit. Her husband, Earle, rides a Harley in NZ, and I promised him we'd wonder off for a ride after the family did their usual touristy stuff at Disneyland, Universal Studios, Grand Canyon, Las Vegas, etc. We both have very cool missus who understand our “out for a few days wandering around escapades.” I lined up a mates 2003 Harley bagger for Earle, and as usual, I pulled out one of my old Indians for myself, a 1953 Chief.
We headed off up over the Cajon Pass and onto Hwy 395 for a trip through Death Valley and who knows where after that or for how long. One night, two nights, who cares as we're out on a walkabout since we are both out for a good time ride kinda guys. Generally, I like to have the first days run mapped out so as the first nights stay is covered, but from there on, I just like to wing it.
Life's too short to worry about the details, because in the end, it all works out, so why sweat the details? More to the point, it's all about the ride and enjoying every moment of it. I have nothing against modern motorcycles whatsoever, as they do many things extremely well. But I find myself being side tracked by the smallest of silly things, a little vibration buzz here, the windshield air buffeting my helmet, suspension too stiff, not quite right seating or handlebar position. But riding classic bikes takes me back in time, and I'm thoroughly wound up in a time warp. I enjoy the sights, I smell the smells, I hear the sounds, and I feel like I am at ease with the whole world while still running down the road at 70-75 mph. Nothing at all bothers me, nothing. There is something to all of this because you never see a motorcycle parked in front of a shrink's office do ya.
This ride out to Death Valley, which started out as a little putt ended up turning into a game. We covered 1000 miles in 48 hours while clocking 42 mpg. You might say, “No big deal, I can do that or I've done that.”
Yep sure thing, but we did it while sight-seeing and stopping at every location/site in Death Valley (which there are plenty if you really study DV), did the full tour at Scotty's Castle, took a swim at the Furnace Creek Resort swimming pool, and chatted with every biker at each stop along the way. We weren't in any hurry, as we were out to see the countryside and enjoy what this great country has to offer, including a side trip to Vegas and Yucca Valley to see my old mate, Hutch, at the Harley dealer. Hutch and I have developed a friendly Indian vs. Harley rivalry, and I like to ride up and rub it in. Cool bikes and cool people.
Today, we face a bunch of negative news about the economy, but classic bikes values are staying strong and Indians are no exception with some models increasing in value. Quite a few folks are putting their money into classic motorcycles as a safe haven while still being able to enjoy their investment.
This is from an Indian point of view, but it's one bike you can ride, and ride the hell out of, and it'll still go up in value, not down. That's a cool investment. Try that with anything else. Generally, the reverse happens.
Kiwi Indian was founded in 1988, and during those 21 years, it has steadily grown. I have seen many ill attempts at rebirthing Indian Motocycles. Most have rolled down the wrong path, and in each case, the temporary owner has viewed my Kiwi Indian Company as a threat. Each owner has made threatening phone calls or sent formal cease and desist letters to close us down or restrict our operations. Some have gone as far as using their advertising money clout with magazines to set rules prohibiting or restricting Kiwi articles. We stuck it out.
I came to America on a 6-month visit back in 1982 (age 21), bought a motorcycle and stayed 2-1/2 years before heading back to New Zealand. After being back in NZ for three weeks, I was consumed with withdrawals and started dreaming of America again. I bought another ticket back to the US. After working within the motorcycle industry during younger times, I decided to start my own Indian business, which was met with a lot of resistance from the old boys in the Indian business. While they stacked road blocks in front of me, stopped suppliers from shipping to me and spread terrible and false rumors, it just made me work that much harder to prove them wrong.
I focused on producing better products and building a strong business with a high level of service, and ultimately I prevailed. Today, we not only cover replacement parts but a full spectrum of Indian motorcycles, including but not limited to new replica Indians, bobbers, and retro-styled motorcycles. We are extremely proud to have our own proprietary Kiwi Flathead engine, frames, and forks, all proudly made here in America in our own facility with our own hands.
I can only see a bright future with even more opportunities ahead of us. America is a land of opportunities, and one can set his or her goals and achieve whatever they set out to accomplish. There are no restrictions. I started out with nothing, worked two jobs, and had a dream.
Recently, my wife, Carolyn, and I, and Brian and Laura Klock of Klockwerks joined forces to move our companies forth for even more opportunities plus a central distribution point. Our son, Ross, is 15 years old and has always been into motorcycles. He has his own wild ideas about what he wants to develop and build. He is currently taking on a strong role within our South Dakota operations. The present and future is what we make of it, and to use an old positive outlook down-under saying, “She'll be right mate.”
I couldn't imagine being without a motorcycle, and even when I'm forced to drive my rig to a show on the east coast, I always have a spare bike on board that I can pull off at any point and ride. While riding to a road run in Texas on my '48 Chief a couple of years ago, I was gassing up somewhere in the boonies west of Phoenix, AZ. A few moments later, two guys rolled up in a custom-painted Ford pickup with a matching paint scheme flatbed trailer and two matching paint job Harley baggers loaded inside. I continued filling up my bike but my curiosity got the better of me, so I poked my face over the other side and said, “G'day mate, do those things run?”
He replied, “Yes they do, why?”
“Ah, I was just wondering.”
I was on a 4000 mile run on my 1948 Chief with no backup vehicle. You've just gotta laugh your guts out some times.
Like the old Indian sales literature says, “You meet the nicest people on an Indian.”
