I LOVE COOL OLD BIKES, I LOVE COOL MODERN BIKES . . . . THIS POPPED UP ON THE 'ASPHALT SQUADRON' BLOG A FEW DAYS AGO AND I'M A BIT BESOTTED WITH IT . . . . PUT TOGETHER BY A CHAP BY THE NAME OF LUKE BRUHEIM . . . . KOMPLETELY KILLER KONTEMPORARY KOOL !!!

FILE UNDER "I GOT STANCE IN MY PANTS"

Not that many guys can pull off authentic retro/classic styling exercises with contemporary Harleys, this is one of the few exceptions to the drool in my books. According to the blurb supplied by Johnny Wolf it's a late model Evo twin cam powerplant sitting in a hardtailed Evo frame with a narrowglide front end stapled to the steering head. The obvious jettisoning of all unnecessary and peripheral fluff is a real highlight, leaving the eyeballs free to feast upon the spectacularly clean and uncluttered appearance of this gorgeously tough ride . . . . I guess it's the headspace behind the concocting of a thing such as this that really grabs my by the short and curlies, the reliability factor, the functionality of shit like electrics and brakes, the ability to use the fuck out of it on a genuine everyday basis without the reasonable possibility of having to spend time on the side of the road sorting some gremlin or another, I know it's awfully uncool to say this but, it doesn't prove to me you're a man, or a hardcore or a paid up member of the chopper elite . . . . it just proves that a majority of old, delicate, sensitive bikes, no matter how well fettled, will always remain exactly that, old, delicate and sensitive. I'm fully expecting to be able to once more partake of the delights of the spontaneous roadside breakdown all over again once Project Shoveller is completed, and that's okay with me, goes with the territory and always will, however, when it comes down to it, I love the idea of being able to throw my leg over the saddle, hit the go button and take off, for eight hundred klms or eighty, safe in the knowledge that I'll be getting to my anticipated destination on time and in one piece . . . . all that old 'Zen' bollocks about the journey being more important than the destination, it's all well and good when you've got no deadline, no resposibilities and nobody relying on you, it's a young man's game, and truth be told, I'm no longer as young and as free of resposibility as I was. Twenty years ago, I never thought I'd be saying this, but that was then and this is now, and I'm not ashamed to admit to possessing only modest mechanical skills so just ripping into a top end pull down on the roadside isn't worth considering, at that level, it's truck time baby, moreover, back then it was fun, it was exciting, it was part of the 'process' as 'they' say, these days, it's just really not that high on my my agenda of 'must experience' situations, the romance has dissipated . . . . there ain't no romance in a bike taking a major runny shit half way into your journey in the middle of fucking nowhere, if you want some bloody romance, get yourself a chick.

Pictures courtesy of Johnny Wolf @ http://asphaltsquadron.blogspot.com.au/