Over the years I have silently witnessed the senseless and often idiotic mutilation of perfectly good motorcycles, to create a bike that will no longer handle properly, or is safe at any speeds in excess of 50mph. Now, before the custom bikers and backstreet engineers rush to take overdoses or hire hit men to silence my heresies against the great god, Chrome, consider the fact that the entire might of the Japanese motorcycle industry are to this day unable to produce a custom bike that can handle at high speeds or is comfortable for long distance travel. Most are bad imitations of their American counterparts. I can understand these bikes being popular in the States, because the roads there go on in a straight line over huge areas. Therefore. a laid back riding position, with your feet up and extended handlebars for arm comfort is understandable.
However, on this septic isle, where the roads seem to have originally been laid down by drunken men, wandering home from taverns in a very high state of intoxication, this type of bike is not only unsuitable to our snake like roads, but can be dangerous if you're the type to daydream or indulge in sexual fantasies. This is one of the main reasons that I personally would not ride one of these bikes. However, some of them look very pretty, what with all the chrome and polished alloy. I would not want to knock them too much because a great many people are kept in gainful employment making rigid frames, strange looking forks, fenders, headlamps and even unusually shaped petrol tanks, not to mention the people who chrome all this collection.
Custom bikes are fine if you are prepared to spend between eight and ten hours a week polishing with a mixture of Solvol and elbow grease. There's no point in having all that chrome if you are not prepared to keep it looking at its best. After all, it costs a small fortune to have it done in the first place. Now, I must say in defence of some of these bikes, that some are a great exercise in engineering ability, even though the whole bike may not be a safe machine ridden at high speeds on our roads. Most of the others look a mess and are usually a mixture of parts acquired at autojumbles and motorcycle graveyards. l have often watched with great amusement some of these Frankenstein type creations blown into the weeds by nondescript 125cc bikes.
My advice to anyone contemplating building one of these personalised bikes is do not attempt it unless you have a good understanding of motorcycles and an engineering background; as well as being prepared to ride at a snail's pace on any road that is not perfectly straight.
Every week you see adverts for unfinished projects and basket cases. These are motorcycles that myopic and inexperienced bikers have dismantled and are unable to reassemble. The other category is the bike that is slowly being put together until the victim, in a moment of sanity or shortage of cash, realises that the original estimate to build the bike had long been exceeded and if he continues he will end up in debt. Some press on and actually complete the so called project. For these people there is no hope. It has been my experience that these people soon tire of the machine, and are then on the lookout for a new project. They always lose big money! I must admit that l have a quiet admiration for these kinds of people, because in spite of all logic they will not give in.
Personally, I find most of the builders of custom bikes and so called specials amusing and very interesting company. They are on a par with anglers when it comes to telling tall stories. They say a little knowledge is dangerous; well, in this case, a little knowledge usually becomes very expensive. I can understand bikers wanting to assemble a bike that combines safety, economy, reliability and classic looks, but to throw a load of mismatched parts together and call it a chopper is a joke.
I can see a certain amount of sense in building a cafe racer because they suit our road system. Some look very good and most of them handle quite well and can be great fun if you're into back road scratching. Unfortunately, a great many others fall into the same category as a great many so called choppers. They are basically glorified rat bikes and often very costly ones at that.
l would not like anyone to think that l have anything against rat bikes. Heaven forbid, a good rat is a great investment. Minimal cost, no cleaning needed, a small fortune saved in Solvol and polish; and, of course, the tiresome business of posing can be dispensed with. l have owned many rat bikes over the years and the only thing that concerned me was that the device was roadworthy and mechanically sound.
At present, I am running around on an XS650 that has oil leaks, is very rusty and in a filthy state. Mechanically, however, it is good and goes like shit off a shovel. Well, you can’t ask for more than that, can you? I get endless amusement from parking it in the middle of a gaggle of incredibly clean superbikes and observing the horrified look of the owners who have a mortal fear that their bikes could be contaminated or that a lump of rust might leap on to their gleaming machines and terminally infect the chrome.
Rat bikes suit my appearance. Well, it’s not fitting to ride around on a new gleaming bike wearing a greasy combat jacket and oily jeans (well waterproof) - I leave oil stains on every surface I rub against. I get plenty of elbow room, especially at my local pub. The only thing that l have customised is my wellies - I cut six inches off the top of them to give a sort of cowboy look. My helmet borders on legality. It is fitted with a perfectly legal visor, this information is intended to stop people thinking that I am not up to date with any new biking laws. I was, however, insulted a few weeks ago when I pulled abreast of a superbike at the traffic lights. The rider took one look at me and made the sign of the cross. He asked me if my exhaust system was legal; l replied that of course it was, I designed and built it myself.
This did not seem to impress him one bit. He reckoned that if noise was power I must have loads of go. Angered by this unwarranted remark, I leaned over to smear his polished tank with my sleeve but unfortunately the lights changed and he zoomed off. I made to give chase but the engine spluttered and cut out. It’s the rubbish petrol they sell these days, but as the song says, we'll meet again some day. Insult me if you like, but not my bike.
Wally Bodger