We recently tried to get our greasy little hands on a Harley-Davidson 883 to review. Unfortunately due to a long list of rules (who would have thought Harley was into rules?) we didn't meet their criteria - and no it wasn't because of our lack of pony tails. It was mainly due to the fact we hadn't had years of experience on heavy bikes. Anyway, as luck would have it, one of our good mates Laurence Cronin recently purchased his very first Harley. He is no newcomer to riding, just hung up his riding boots for a few years while he raised a couple of kids. Now they are all grown up, he decided to fulfill one of his lifelong dreams - own a Harley. And like many, he fell for the 'man magnet' they call the 883. This is Laurie's review after riding the Sportster for a few months....

Having only ever ridden Japanese bikes before, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect picking up my first ever Harley. Could Harley’s entry level sportster, really be all that different from any of the Jap cruisers? The thing that initially attracted me to the 883 was the look. It appears tough, sleek, stripped down and old school. It’s about heavy metal, not lightweight plastic. In fact everything about the 883 snarls through gritted teeth: “Milwaukee Iron”… Except perhaps for the shipping container delivery note the dealer gives you as a memento which tells you it’s now made in California, not one of the famed Milwaukee plants. It’s only then you start to notice the 883 has a few odd Hollywood touches.

Everyone loves a shortcut. And everyone hates it when they find out that the way they've been doing something for years and years might have not been the best way to go about it at all. Take, for instance, washing you precious personal transport - a ritual handed down from parents to siblings for thousands of years. Or there abouts. And here's how it goes. Wet the vehicle. Apply approved soapy substance with sponge. Rinse the vehicle. Chamois dry the vehicle. Wax if desired. Armour-All if anal retentive. Now what if there was actually a better way to do things? Namely, what if you could remove all the elbow grease involved in the process and jump straight to the chamois part? Sounds good, huh? Well there's a fairly big chunk of the bike cleaning market now occupied by products that promise just that - a spray on, wash off, wipe down set of instructions that would have us believe that we've been wasting a hell of a lot of time in the past. But have we?

Most countries have their associated stereotypes. Apparently Australia is full of lunatic blonde animal hunters, the U.S. is populated solely by gun-toting Christians and the UK is full of pasty people who constantly complain about the weather and finish every sentence with the word “Guv’nor”. Of course, for the most part that is all baloney. Turns out that McCartney and Wonder were right – people are the same wherever you go. But there’s one particular cliché I have found to be true. Italians do dress well - very well indeed.

Enter stage left the Moto Guzzi V7 Racer – a very dapper version of the already pretty damn suave V7 Café. If the standard model is meant to conjure long-forgotten images of the “good ol’ days” with it’s upswept pipes and obvious design cues from the original 70’s V7, the Racer looks about as subtle as the moon hitting your eye like a big pizza pie. But is it "amore", or is it just a one-ride stand?

My Dad. Knows absolutely nothing about motorbikes bar their mechanical basics and (in his eyes at least) their inherent danger – that and whatever his still-sharp 60 year-old senses tell him. So picture the vista when I roll up to my parent’s farm for Mother’s Day on a brand new Kawasaki W800. Of course he knows that the last bike I reviewed was Zero’s brave but flawed Zero S, and he briefly casts his eyes over this new one as I rev it up to give him a listen to the engine. There’s a moment of deep contemplation, much like a Kung Fu master might do, then he calmly pronounces, “Another electric bike, is it?” I laugh out loud. An electric bike? “Come on! Just look at the thing,” I blurt, pointing out the two massive pipes hanging off the back. “I know it doesn’t look like an electric bike,” he replies. “But it sure does sound like one…”

When I was a kid growing up on Sydney's southern beaches, there were two certainties you could count on during the long, hot Christmas holidays in January. The first was cricket on AM radio, and the second was afternoon storms. Now the two may not seem to be related in any way, but stick with me for a moment. You see, while I was standing there in my swimmers and towel, dripping chlorinated water on my mother's linoleum floor and sucking down a Berts soft drink, I'd often hear little bursts of static interrupting the monotone drone of the commentary coming over the airwaves. They'd be faint and infrequent at first, but slowly and surely they'd build in volume and frequency until they were joined in a chorus of distant thunder and white strobes of light on the horizon. Our little valve radio had discovered it's second job; as a lightning detector for the approaching electrical storms.

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To read the complete review of the 2011 Yamaha FZ8 and many others, Check out One Wheel Drive’s Website

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by The Bear, President and Founder of Old Bike Barn

How long will it be before motorcycles run without gas? It’s a question for the ages, or the engineers. Now that cars and trucks are scaling back fuel usage and converting to electric power, don’t kid yourself, motorcycles won’t be far behind. There will always be a place for the classics, mind you, just the same as there’ll always be a place for classic cars – though perhaps alternative fuels will allow us to retain the internal-combustion engine without using fossil fuels.

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