Ten years from now, someone checking out a neighborhood yard sale will reach down and grab this issue of HOT BIKE from a stack of old magazines and flip through the bike features. Chances are, they'll look closely at each of the custom motorcycles gracing these pages and get a good laugh at how dated some of them look. The big 300 rear tires without a trace of wear; the unfired big-inch mega-motors; and the wild metal sculptures serving as the frame, tank, and fenders are probably going to look a bit dated in retrospect. But that's OK; just like the goofy stuff built in the '60s and '70s, all concerned had a good time and made a little money while doing it.
Unlike the radical customs of today, many of which aren't produced from a platform manufactured by Harley-Davidson, the builders of yesterday's radical bikes depended on their ability to locate an old Harley as a donor.
For Glen Hearns of Simi Valley, CA, and his '65 Harley-Davidson FLH Electra Glide, it was perhaps the final-year panhead's undesirable configuration for chopping that saved it from the torch. Its first-year electric-start system required disturbing the flowing lines seen on earlier frames, and the panhead motor, with its bulky aluminum primary, was not in as much demand as a shovelhead motor.
Toward the end of the '70s, the trend to build radical show bikes for the street slowed considerably, leaving the core of serious riders content to settle for function over form. With a lowered demand for customizing, these were tough times for bike painters and shops selling non-essential accessories.
When we discussed Glen's '65 FLH with Butch Ewart, owner of Butchs Custom Cycles in Simi Valley, CA, and asked about his involvement with Glen's FLH as it appears today, he backtracked to the pair's high school days.
"It was 1979 when Glen found his '65," Butch told us. "He traded straight across for it with a '65 Mustang he used to get to school every day. Owning a pretty bike wasn't a concern to Glen; he just wanted to ride as much as possible. It always ran, but it would break down on runs to Laughlin. It never had a good paint job-he just rode the crap out of it."