We are currently working on the good Dr. Hamster's '34 VL, which, for some unknown reason has a set of mid '40s Indian handlebars mounted on dogbones, attached to his VL springer front end, with dogbone risers. It's a strange arrangement, but we decided to stick with it.
We checked out the bike from stem to stern, added a few vintage replacement components from Paughco, including stock-replacement rectangular footboards, and brake linkage. We satin black powder-coated several items, and scored a set of Lowbrow sparkplug wires. But we ran into a problem with the bars. They didn't seem to work properly, so I reached out to the master of vintage Indians, Mike Tomas, of KIWI Indian.
Mike has a long daunting history with the Indian brand and here's just a taste: Mike took all the skills he'd learned in his time around the forge in New Zealand and beat, hammered and wrenched his first old and decrepit Indian model 741 wreck back into shape. Soon, his Indian would run so fast and so far that it would beat even the Hardleedee Milwaukee machines.
Swearing Mike to secrecy, an island elder passed on the talisman of the Kiwi tribe, saying, “Armed with this device, you will detect the false and untrue, and identify the right parts for Indian motorcycles.”
From beneath his tattered coveralls, he unveiled a shining object, a Rockwell Hardness Tester, and gave it to Kiwi Mike. Mike knew his time was finished on the island paradise, and he would venture to cross the Pacific Ocean and face the most strident and daunting Indian challenges.
Armed with his knowledge and his Rockwell Hardness Tester, Mike arrived in America, and discovered many of his idols of Indian restoration were false. The cheap parts – even many expensive ones – were weak as putty, and would quickly fail. With the help of his fair wife, Carolyn, Mike began manufacturing parts as strong as battleship hulls and equally long-lasting. Together, they built KIWI Indian Parts from tiny beginnings into the strident business it is today, dedicated to keeping Indians alive.
Kiwi Mike and Carolyn settled in their warm Riverside home, near the best orange groves in the country, determined to raise a family. Indian owners became satisfied customers. Mike fought thieves and rouges for his piece of the Indian name, and stayed absolutely true to the original Indian style and flathead driveline. Maybe there is such a thing as a happy ending?
Mike isn't done yet by a long shot. He now builds his own frames in the Indian tradition. He manufactures his own drivelines and front ends. Everything he builds is carefully based in manufacturing prowess and quality determination. He doesn't want to change the product, just refine it to perfection.
Consequently, we were beckoned to the vast KIWI Indian facility, near the Riverside fairgrounds, to rebuild the good doctor's handlbebars. Mike's crew has become the go-to team for Indian restorations.
“Don't bring your bike in boxes,” Mike suggested. “Leave it alone and roll it off the truck complete. We will take care of the rest.”
Throughout the day and during the handlebar rebuild process by Travis, we quizzed Mike about his business and restoration recommendations.
“Today our business is about 1/2 reproduction parts and the other half split between restorations and new bike manufacturing,” Mike said. “Our new Indian bike manufacturing is rocketing through the roof.”
Travis pulled our bars apart carefully and studied the internal components. As it turned out, Indian bars operate the internal solid cables from the inside of the bars, not externally, like Harley-Davidson. Mike continually pointed out how simple Indian mechanics were, and he was dead-on with the bars.
No matter the simplicity, Mike studied every aspect of any build. The Chop N Grind Performance Team met us at the facility and noted Mike's stickler nature throughout any rebuild process. He precisely documents every aspect of any engine rebuild. He studies wear, product function, heat damage, and lubrication. In his engine rebuilding room, he has the only tester for Indian oil pump capacity in existence.
I would love to spend a week at his facility and follow an Indian Chief engine rebuild from start to finish. Mike also studies fuel and oil ingredients and was impressed with Joe Gibbs lubricants, which we compared to Spectro Synthetic oils favorably.
“I always recommend straight weight oils for vintage bikes,” Mike said. “I also discovered that many of the EPA-required alterations to fuel, such as MTB, made lead look good.”
Gradually, Mike has learned how to manufacture each Indian component, and he is currently working on a line of highly improved Indian replacement pistons with cam-ground, moly-coated skirts and offset wristpins. He works with James gaskets to make his KIWI line of gaskets for Indians.
Back to the bars. Travis checked the internal cable mechanism. One side was missing the locking washer that holds the cable housing.
Someone had developed and machined a catch insert threaded into the guides in the bars, much like external throttles. We were working with two internal grip mechanisms, one for the throttle, and one for the mechanical spark advance.
While I worked with Travis on the bars, Mike, Bob T. and Dr. Hamster discussed Bonneville racing. I warned Mike about Bob T., the Chop N Grind spy, in the center. He's notorious for stealing speed secrets.
The bars use solid internal wire and bare steel cable housings. Once Travis determines the cable length, he covers it with fabric loom and cleans up the ends with shrink tubing to prevent fraying.
Travis laid out all the new pieces. He bent about a ½ inch of the solid cable at 90 degrees and used an anvil to tap the two cable guide components together.
“This is the weakest link to this whole system,” Travis said. “If the cable bends or flexes, this is where it will break.”
This external cable nut threads onto the cable and ends up on the outside of the bars, locking the external cable in place. Once installed, we will fasten the cable near the distributor and secure it near the carburetor to prevent flexing.
Once Travis removed the custom inserts, we slipped the new housing in place. He put the washer over one end and he spun the nut way down the cable to allow for enough space to slip the cable through the bars. As you can see, the nut resides just outside the bars.
“It saves a lot of time to install the nut about a foot down the housing first,” Travis said. “It's a bitch to install the cable housing, then spin it on from the other end.”
Then Travis twisted the housing with pliers, unraveling it slightly on the outside of the guide washer. That grabbed the cable from the internal end. He used an Emory disc to smooth the edges before installation.
Travis started on the other grip and performed the same operation. In this case, we grabbed a shot of the technician twisting the outer housing to create a bung, then the guide washer in place in the slotted bars. We snatched another shot of the solid line in place in its bung, which is grabbed and pulled by the grip.
With the two cables in place, the good doctor and Travis turned toward the horn button. It was jammed and not insulated, so it was grounded around the clock. Since I couldn't find a horn on the VL, we're not sure what the hell it was wired to. The wire disappeared under the tank, and I clipped it to remove the bars. We will see over the weekend, when installation takes place.
I snuck into the KIWI clean room while Mike explained lower-end balancing to the Chop N Grind spies. That's his oil pump testing device in the background. Then I returned to the service area, where Travis had just completed running the fabric loom over the cable housing and the bars were complete.
Mike's wife, Carolyn, unveiled a mouth-watering spread of sandwich fixings and we dove in before rambling back across Los Angeles to the magnificent Bikernet Headquarter on the port.
