|
 I’ve
been abducted by time travelers, a straight-60-based life form. Just when
I decided to set aside some money toward eventually branching out with
something more practical than an Indian 101 Scout for highway riding,
another 101 crested into view, flashing enough go-fast features to tempt
me into giving it a shot. Now at age 44, I have never ridden any
motorcycle other than a 101 and I’m starting to think I never will. It’s
not that I’m on some sort of mission to maintain “purity”; rather,
the little buggers just won’t turn me loose.
 I
learned to ride at age 41. Previously, I had no burning desire, but then I
realized an antique bike, with its intense rider involvement, might be the
best ticket for drinking in the leafy riverside roads near my home,
balancing through the curves and slicing my way into dappled rays and cool
breezes. This was my dream vision, but I would have settled for coming to
terms with the old machine enough to wheeze about awkwardly in the
immediate neighborhood.
A little research told me that the 101, built from 1928
to 1931, is regarded by some as the best-handling motorcycle ever and
possibly Indian’s finest model. The low center of gravity probably has a
lot to do with the stability and effortless handling that make this
machine a favorite of stunt riders to this day. The 101 is the
quintessential purist’s ride, with a rigid rear and stiff springs in
front for direct tactile connection with weight transfers during
cornering, a shifter coming straight out of the transmission so you can
feel the gears mesh, and the simplicity of a magneto that needs no battery
to fire the engine. The oil is always clean because it drips slowly into
the crank and doesn’t return, thanks to total-loss oiling. If too much
backs up, you reduce the flow, and the auxiliary hand pump juts from the
tank as a proud “rider involvement” badge, though it’s really not
needed. To my eyes, the racy, low-slung styling, lithe and uncluttered,
rivals that of the skirted-fender Chiefs.
Most 101s are 45”, but an almost identical 37”
version went mostly to export markets. I found one in Australia at a
modest price that was not very correct, though not overtly customized
either. Finally it arrived, and later my idyllic image came to ground as I
heaved the beast onto its rear stand, kicked and kicked until I was soaked
in sweat, and smelled oil burning as it inevitably seeped out here and
there. The learning curve took longer than I expected, and chasing down
the mechanical gremlins longer yet, but then the 1928 101 upheld its end
of the deal by proving itself the ideal mount for this setting, as well as
other low-speed roads nearby connecting little business districts.
 With
the speed limits generally 25 or 30 m.p.h., though the flow is often more
like 35 and you can top 40 briefly on woodsy straightaways, even the
little engine was up to the task. Only in accelerating up one long,
moderate grade from a stop was there any issue with traffic, and even
there I could reach third gear with a little patience. I can’t imagine
any serious antique being more pleasant burbling along at 30 to 35 m.p.h.
and leaning effortlessly into curves. I’m probably kidding myself, but I
wonder if the specs of the 37” vs. the 45” could be coming into play,
with the short-stroke engine (shortest relatively of any Indian V-twin)
smoothing out the vibes and the center of gravity ever so slightly lower.
The catalogued weight is 14 pounds less, an amount no one could feel
overall, but if the entire difference is toward the top of the smaller
barrels and heads, I suppose it could affect the balance a little, though
probably less than filling an empty tank. In more concrete areas, this
bike starts on the first kick every time, has plenty of stopping power
thanks to an oversize rear drum, and throws out a fat headlight beam that
comes in handy for a night prowler like me. So I plan to keep it, maybe
even teach my wife to ride it eventually.
 When
I ventured out onto a multilane, limited-access route, I started to
discover my trusty workhorse’s limitations. In traffic, it could manage
fine in the slow lane, but with the road to myself late at night, I took
the middle lane and realized keeping the engine that wound out would
become grating pretty quickly, even though the vibes are more buzzy than
harsh and the engine may well be up to the job. Later, on a tour of New
York’s Finger Lakes organized by the Antique Motorcycle Club of America,
I felt like I was flogging the little guy to keep up with some riding
companions, though I got a huge sense of accomplishment from covering all
that ground. I decided then that while the bike had acquitted itself well,
maybe I’m just the sort of laid-back person who would feel more relaxed
on an unstressed Chief in that situation. I squirreled away some money and
kept an eye out for those lowball deals you hear about once in a long
while.
Then I saw a 1929 101 with Sport Scout barrels and
heads being advertised, and I inquired because a friend had expressed
interest in putting a Chief engine in a 101 and I thought this alternative
hop-up approach might merit a look. These later heads yielded significant
power gains through improved flow. The bike looked very good for the
price, and even better when the seller said it was roadworthy aside from
some problems a person could live with in a pinch. At a swap meet, I saw a
101 that appeared a lot rougher and less complete for a higher price. That
and discovering the value of a generator being included sealed it. Though
I hadn’t been in the market for this sort of thing, the deal just looked
too good to pass up.
The engine has those gorgeous deep-fin cylinders and
heads that started in 1940, a big carb for a 1928 Chief jutting out almost
too far into my left boot, and straight pipes that are obnoxious only
under full throttle. It uses sturdy “Z metal” flywheels but is not
stroked. Bigger straight pipes, different cams and conversion to return
oil may lie ahead, and replacing the 20-tooth tranny sprocket with a 21 to
bring it up to stock 45” gearing almost certainly does. As I had heard
about Sport Scouts, you have to wind out the engine a bit to feel the
dramatic power that comes from free breathing – enough to paste you back
in your seat if you build some revs in second, then crack it wide open –
but the compression also is higher than a 101’s, so the bottom end
benefits somewhat as well. On a brief but steep hill where my 37” just
holds its own in second, I have tried the same thing on this one, even
though it’s geared taller and is bordering on lugging as I straighten up
from a turn at the bottom. It starts off with a “glub glub glub” and
builds speed steadily, and then the grade eases just as the engine is
about to hit the furious zone. I’m getting used to downshifting into
first as I make right-angle turns, where my 37” might not even need any
clutch slipping in second.
 Considering
all the high-profile modifications, I was surprised to find this bike is
correct in some respects. It has the right wheels and brakes, and I lucked
out because the front brake is strong enough to make up for the standard
vague feel from the contracting band in back, more like a vigorous gumming
than a bite. I now have a 101 with a properly functioning magneto (the
other uses battery juice) and hand oil pump. The frame shouldn’t be
black, but the red on the sheetmetal may even be correct, with a tank
decal that’s pretty close and even pinstriping. The light switch appears
to be original, and the brake lever could be. The rear fender is the 1930
style with the hinge, and the headlight has roughly the 1930 shape, behind
a convex lens. The taillight looks right, with a different lens. Never
mind correct, you can stand back and see a certain dignity to the package,
nearly everything appearing to belong on an Indian from the period or a
few years later.
The open road beckons. Maybe by next season I will have
this project sorted out well enough to trust the reliability and venture
out. Who knows, it could turn out to be too far off the pace of Chiefs to
justify having as a special-purpose machine. Or somewhere way in my future
there may be a correct 45” 101 that will have all the power any sane
person could want in a smallish hardtail. I don’t want to maintain more
than two bikes, so I’d have to sell one of mine before buying a correct
example, not to mention save a whole lot of money first. I’m in no
hurry. I can’t see giving up either one.
Also by Bob
The
Indian Allure
Undamped
Rebound
A
Luddite Nation
Fast
Lane Fossils
Flying
the Flag
In
the Spotlight
Bob is a contributing member, watch for more articles. |
