still photography: Gary Margerum

You may have seen The Wall of Death travelling the festy byways of Britain these last couple of years.

Our friend, photographer and vintage bike culture fancier Gary Margerum has spent the last couple of years documenting the lifestyle of the creators, collaborators and showpeople of the roots and culture carny show that evokes a curious sort of displaced nostalgia for anyone interested in bikes and derring do.

There’s a book from Gary on the way in which he documents a year in the life of the show — boards, bikes and all — and we look forward to that. Benedict Campbell’s film (below) brings out, meanwhile, the all-encompassing lifestyle that is the creation of such a spectacle.

What we like about the whole idea of the Wall of Death is the refreshingly committed attitude of a band of men and women who dedicate their lives to riding very old bikes at ridiculous angles for the public’s wonder and delectation.

It’s a little slice of folk heroism from the margins. Enjoy.

THE WALL OF DEATH from benedict campbell on Vimeo.

We’ve been following the progress of Scott Teopfer’s pet project since the early times. We had a sense that it just might encapsulate something beautiful about motorcycling.

And we were right.

The finished version of the film is lovely. It evokes a real spirit of freedom, adventure and open-heartedness; something that when it comes down to it, should characterise motorbike culture from top to bottom.

These guys celebrate the open road and the exploration of it for its own sense. No petty crap about different tribes, aesthetics and schisms within bike culture. We think you’ll agree, this is a beautiful 15 minutes that makes you want to go out and ride and ride and ride.

Bravo, Scott…

Click here to view the embedded video.

It seems like the greasier portions of the blogosphere have caught onto this like a mullet to a hand-line over the last couple of days. But we want to share it because it is so lovely.

Take a bunch of committed and discerning biker folk, hook them up with some committed and discerning image-makers and what do you get? Something that makes you yearn for lathes and open roads.

The Machine Shed is out there somewhere in the less dusty regions of Australia. They make nice bikes, and strike us as having a lovely attitude.

Machine: we salute you!

MACHINE from matt machine on Vimeo.

Honda’s gazillion-selling small bike the C90, loved by the families of Ho Chi Minh city as much as London cabbies ‘doing the knowledge’ is of course, one the most popular motorised vehicles ever marketed.

We’ve got a soft spot for the Super Cub, as it’s also known occasionally. They’re easy to ride, fun and inexpensive — and now the design is glossed with the kind of cool that comes as a reaction to the ubiquity of full-fairinged scooters dreamt up in CAD studios.

But we’re digging the C90 lesser-selling, more windswept, rugged and interesting cousin the CT90.

The Trail 90 is basically a toughened up trailster version of the C90, with requisite knobblies, a sturdy, scrambler style raised exhaust and other bits and pieces that makes it perfect for the sort of light offroad duty that your average fisherman, hunter or gun-totting foxy female might require. Ah-hem.

We’re students, of course, of vehicle marketing. Not sure if there will ever be another campaign that intertwines guns, little scooters and sexy chicks. Shame.

Images Magneto Photography for Influx

Dick Smith is widely known for his knowledge of all things Triumph. Having rebuilt his first engine at the tender age of eleven, he went on to work in the factories of BSA and Norton. Honing his skills here in an era when mechanical craftsmanship was a founding value of British manufacturing — it was perhaps inevitable that with the gradual shut-down of industry his own workshop would emerge – a phoenix rising out of the ashes.

Baron’s speed shop wasn’t actually born until 2003, conceived by Dick with his long time friend and business partner Del. The idea was to create a genuine hot rod speed shop specialising in various bike styles from the 50s and 60s – from bobbers and choppers to classic café racers.

The machines produced by the south London workshop quickly received the recognition from those in the know. With a wide range of high quality parts manufactured in-house along with punchy paint jobs and hopped up motors – Baron’s bikes have become popular on both sides of the Atlantic.

Dick has recently moved to larger premises down the road in Croydon. The new outlet is equipped to deal with anything the customer may need. They will take on everything from full engine rebuilds, manufacturing of bespoke parts and accessories to complete one-off fabrications.

There is always a cup of tea waiting for anyone that would like to discuss a new project. So drop in you might come out with more than you bargained for!

www.baronspeedshop.com

Rain. Lots of rain. At night. Soaked through, 50-odd miles from my destination and on a lonely road in the middle of bleak West Country moorland. My headlamp was pointing anywhere but at the road, mainly because it was off another bike and had been hastily lashed between the yokes with bungees, because three hours earlier the Harley-Davidson Sportster I was riding had vibrated its own bulb to pieces just as I’d left home. As road trips go, this was bad and I was proper fed up.

Then came the electric shocks…

That was over 20 years ago, but my first decent ride on a Harley-Davidson is still painfully fresh in my memory. It coloured the way I thought about all Harleys for more than a decade. OK, so I loved the look of some of the old models, and I still reckon that one of the most handsome engines ever made is a Knucklehead, like a motor turned inside out, all tubes and bosses and chunks of sculpted alloy. And of course having seen On Any Sunday I, like millions of others, couldn’t help being struck by the brutal beauty of a bucking, sliding XR750 flat tracker (below) in the hands of the majestic Mert Lawwill. But XR750s, even today, are rare beasts in Britain.

As for the stuff I rode though the ’90s – and I rode most of the then current models – well, it was like climbing onto a fairground ride in a provincial town. Waltzer-gaudy behemoths that shook the money from your pockets and wouldn’t stop when you felt sick and wanted to get off. Massive heavy things, under-powered and under-braked that made the dodgems feel like finely honed sports cars. Harley fans told me I didn’t get it. No I didn’t, and I didn’t want to either.

Then in 2002 something extraordinary happened. The Harley From Mars landed on Earth. The VRSCA V-Rod (above) dropped among us like a spaceship. Here was proof that the blokes in Milwaukee had not only heard of liquid cooling, overhead camshafts and effective braking, but had engineered it into one of their bikes. The V-Rod managed to mix contemporary with custom with tradition with performance. And it does perform. I took an early one out for a blast in 2001 and when I gave it a fistful and felt 115bhp through my low-slung backside I laughed out loud, tickled to be so surprised.

Then 2008 finally brought something that echoed Mert Lawwill’s XR750. In the XR1200 (above), Milwaukee has given us a Harley suited to roads with those pesky things called bends. The styling reflects the dirt oval’s most successful race bike and has helped to boost an already growing interest in all things flat track. It’s a bike that combines the rorty chug of the old-style air-cooled pushrod V– twin with a feel that’s sportier than any street Harley before it.

Oh Mr Davidson, you’re spoiling us.

So do I get Harleys now? Well, I suppose I do, but then there’s more to get these days. But also, and you might call this age, I do find something comforting about, in the case of almost the whole Harley-Davidson range, a relatively basic motorcycle shamelessly showcasing proven old technology. Living history, you might call it. But then so is Bruce Forsyth, though I know what I’d rather be riding.

image via Lapoularde

It’s pretty obvious to anyone who has turned even half an analytic eye on bike culture that On Any Sunday is one of the most interesting, and certainly the most beautiful, films on bike culture that was ever produced.

The music is superbly, the cinematography is craftsmanlike, meticulous in its saturated quality — and its sweeping view of American motorcycling scene is insightful.

But one of the main reasons the film works so well is the strangely otherworldly eye of Director Bruce Brown.

Brown had been at the centre of a band of surfer creative types who lived at Dana Point in Orange County California, had been nominated for an Oscar for Endless Summer.

The 1963 classic surf documentary had become a touchstone of the surfer aesthetic — shot through with the mickey-taking mock innocence — a nod and a wink to the core insiders — and a refreshingly quirky way of drawing in a willing mainstream audience who looked at the film’s subject like apes in a zoo.

Chris Malloy’s interview with Bruce Brown, via californian surf culture citadel The Surfer’s Journal is an interesting insight into the film’s roots and teases out the cross-fertilisation of surf and bike culture — as well as Steve McQueen’s intimate creative and financial relationship with the film’s creative process.

Watch the two films back to back and you’ll ache to live in Brown’s gorgeously sun-saturated world. And you’ll be more committed to making the most out of your weekends than ever.

Whatever you feel about retro culture in general — and the various obsessions car and bike heads have about all things vintage, you have to admire the craftsmanship represented in this video.

It’s evident that not all Royal Enfield production bikes have hand painted tank and trim: but this Indian craftsman has a mind-blowing steadiness of hand.

For us it makes sense to go retro if the simplicity and lo-tech embedded in these bikes would mean low maintenance costs and increased reliability.

We’re not sure if this is the case, but MCN certainly seemed to like the Caffish Royal Enfield Clubman (above).

But these practicalities aside, if you knew that this sort of love and care went into every part of your new bike, you’d be tempted to trade, wouldn’t you?

Andy Jenkins draws bikes and cars nicely. But the other four wheeled vehicles he is interested in are skateboards. He was, after all the Art Director and founder member of Girl Skateboards.

Andy also digs the print medium, his self-published zine Bend having been a lead player in the cult of the underground print publication.

We caught up with Andy recently when these lovely little illustrations went on sale for a snip.

Skate versus Bikes/Cars: what’s the relationship?
Here in Los Angeles, it’s simple. If you skate, you drive/ride. There’s no other way to get around unless you’re bumming rides.

What do you ride/drive?
I drive a hybrid… the powers that be here have all the nice cars. I used to commute on a Triumph Thruxton for a few years until I sold it to a coworker.

LA or San Francisco?
San Pedro! Get on the 110 freeway and head south from LA.

Dirtbike or Roadbike?
I love motocross and raced it for a few years. So I have an inclination towards dirt. BUT, I loved my Thruxton as well.

Print or Digi?
Both. Print if it’s good, i.e. well designed and written. I tend to be a little more lenient about design if it’s online.

Received a very welcome dispatch this morning from CICERO DEGUZMAN JR– bringing news of new collaborations, new books and a very nice new blog format for his very delectable series of pictures that document vintage choppers, their builders, workspaces and the objects of their passion.

Its the tangible sense of love and exactitude with which Mr DeGuzman presents his beautiful photographs that puts clear water between it and the mass of bike culture material coming out of the ‘States right now.

We suggest you visit the site and get on board. It’s a lovely ride.

Pics Courtesy Godspeed