The bike world has always been made up of builders and assemblers, yet never before in my 22 years in this business have I felt more like I'm in Legoland instead of a land of craftsmen. I guess it's good for the business as a whole-at least that's what they tell me. Big business, the mass-production of products has turned the bike builder into a model assembler. A bike shop that actually builds engines and transmissions is an art that seems to have all but disappeared. Just buy a shiny engine off the shelf and slap it in a highly decorated frame. One size fits all-sorta.
Who cares about compression, cam, ignition, carburetor, etc...it all comes built into the engine, doesn't it? To this attitude, I am calling bullshit. The engine is the heart of any motorcycle, and it deserves the most attention. The engine and transmission will either make or break the owner's confidence. Is the bike going to be reliable? Is it going to run hot? Heck, will it even start?
This is especially true in kick-start applications. Most of the new crate motors come off the shelf with lots of compression, cookie cutter cams and ignitions that need 1-1/2 to 2 rotations of the engine to start. Even a rider who is an experienced kick-starter has a hard time with these combinations. Combination! That is a huge word when it comes to building motorcycles.
I believe, or was actually taught by my mentor and hero, Wink Eller, that each bike should be built to the rider and to the style of riding he or she will be doing. The bike should also be built to comfortably fit the rider. This also goes to knowing the person you're building a bike for; figuring out what they want. Hey, some guys want a blingy showpiece, some want a lightning-fast, around-town rocket, others want a reliable rider, and then there are the strictly show-off bikes. Each one has to be built with an entirely different combination of parts, both inside and out.
Sadly, this method is rarely used in these days of bobbers, choppers, and new aftermarket, old school bikes. This is an era that has made the mechanic disappear. Diagnosis, a word I have to use a lot when I come across people with bikes they can't start, or when they are unable to figure out some simple problem. It goes right back to the builder not knowing anything about the combination of parts inside the pretty piece of mechanical art he has bolted together.