CARISTAS

Harlistas with circa-1952 FL Hydra-Glide with side shifter.     PHILLIPPE DIEDERICH  was one of the first — perhaps the first — to chronicle Cuba's Harlista movement.    It was in March 1997, in the Miami New Times , that the Florida-based writer and photographer told of the island's Harley-Davidson owners and their singular devotion to the rumbling old machines.    Diederich wrote about the late mechanic José Lorenzo Cortez — nickname: Pepe Milésima — whose skills kept the big bikes going for decades after the Revolution, and Sergio Morales, the one-time apprentice to Cortez who would inherit his teacher's role as high priest to the island's Harleys.    He told how the Harlistas make crank pins out of Russian pressure bearings, craft perfect reproductions of Harley exhaust systems and retro-fit sorely needed rear shock absorbers to Hydra-Glides. Every Harley-Davidson in Cuba today is said to b...

  A fellow I know in Cuba told me he owned a 1950s BSA. "It's a chopper," he said.   I pictured some stripped-down veteran British machine, like the Matchless that Marlon Brando posed on during filming of The Wild One (in the movie, he rides a stock-looking Triumph 6T Thunderbird 650).   Before I went down this year, I looked for a pair of spark plugs to bring him. I couldn't find the Champions originally specified for his iron-head BSA, so I picked up the equivalent NGKs.   In Cuba, my friend showed me his bike. It turned out to be an extremely tidy custom with raked frame, stepped seat, the works. The "pre-unit" engine and transmission were original, but everything else looked to be hand-fabricated, adapted from donors bikes (there's a lot of Honda in it) or bought on the aftermarket.   Hardly the old rattler I had imagined.   He still seemed quite pleased with the spark plugs. Brando on the Matchless: 1953.

     From a distance, I thought this private taxi with louvred rear engine lid was a Volkswagen Beetle. But as I drew closer, I realized that the yellow bug was something else. A decal in the back window told me "Renault," and a bit of later research revealed that this was a 4CV, as produced by the French automaker from 1947 through 1961.    The story is that the 4CV, or "cat-shu-voh," was developed surreptitiously at Renault during the Second World War, the goal of its designers a basic, affordable car to help France rebuild once free of its German occupiers. Clearly, they were influenced by Germany's KdF, the car that would become the Beetle after the war.   Like the Beetle, the 4CV has independent suspension, a rear-mounted engine and light, unit-body construction. Yet though smaller than the Volkswagen, the Renault has four doors to the VW's two, centre-hinged on each side so that the front doors are of the suicide variety.    Mike Bu...

Global and Mail editorial cartoonist Brian Gable's take on the papal visit .

  NEW COMPUTER , new operating system, new photo editing software  —  I'll need some time to get used to all this.   While I'm doing that, here's a look at what's trending in Guanabacoa.

For hire: 1950 Buick Super convertible.    Some of Cuba's finest old cars are running up a lot more miles these days.    The reason? The island's 2010 relaxation of rules about self-employment.    Of 178 activities newly opened to those willing to give capitalism a whirl, private taxi operator seems to have been a popular choice. And more than one neophyte cabbie appears to have quickly twigged to the appeal of a desirable classic car in securing big-tipping tourist fares.    These private cabs, seen today in every resort area, are not to be confused with the handpicked antiques of the government-run Gran Car service, or the plodding Havana sedans and wagons that serve as fixed-route collectives.    These are family cars  —  often heirlooms handed down through generations  —  and until recently in private service (at least as far as the government was concerned). Today, they're very much in the publ...

1955 Chevrolet sedan in Havana.    I have this business idea.    Round up a bunch of old cars in Canada and the United States, nice cars, but in need of bodywork and paint. Load them on a freighter and ship them to Cuba. There, hire the best panel beaters, upholsterers, painters, etc. to work their magic. Pay them double or triple their usual rates. Ship the cars back to North America and still sell them at a profit.    Think it might work?