CARISTAS

  I know, I promised no more motorcycles for a bit. But at least it's not a Harley!   I've come across a number of these Cushman scooters in Varadero. Must have been a dealer there, back in the 1940s and '50s. Cushman Corp. of Nebraska produced heavy-duty scooters like this from 1936 until 1965. See also: A Cushman, No, a Cusman, in Cuba

Mid-50s Harley has no saddle bags or other adornments to obscure its classic silhouette.      HERE'S THAT  Harley-Davidson from the last post, sans band members. It wasn't the oldest or rarest Harley at the meet, but it was my favourite – a 1955 or '56 (they're pretty much identical), finished in honest black and carrying, to my mind, just the right amount of chrome.    With 74-cubic-inch panhead engine, it could be a standard FL model, but given its Cuban heritage – plus the purple auxiliary headlamps – I'm guessing it's the police-issue FLE that was tuned for traffic control duties. The hand shifter for the gearbox is another clue: a majority of civilian buyers were opting for Harley's new foot shifter in the mid-50s, but police and military customers remained loyal to the hand control.    This is the last of my Harlista shots – at least for now. Time to turn back to cars and trucks. Maybe some buses, too.

   Their name translates to "all mixed up," but members of To'Mezclao certainly seemed sure of themselves at the Harlistas gathering in Varadero. The popular group is known for a blend of styles, from cumbia to hip-hop to reggaeton. See a video here of To'Mezclao performing live in Havana. Reason to smile: A handsome Harley from 1955 or '56.

Late 1940s flathead, on display at Harlistas rally in Varadero.   "Patina" gets mentioned a lot these days. In its broadest sense, it's the visual evidence – faded and peeling paint, blossoming rust – of the effects of the environment on a surface over time.    Many who love old stuff – cars, motorcycles, furniture – treasure patina, and not just because it separates the reproduction from the authentic. With its unique patterns and textures, patina can turn the mass-produced item into something individual, a piece with its own story to be pondered even as that story continues to evolve.    Plus, patina is free. Not every classic vehicle owner can spend thousand on that perfect (for a day) paint job, but all can elect the default: just let it rust in place. It's probably fair to say that cost was a larger factor than aesthetics in the rat rod movement that surfaced in the early 1990s.    Of course, not all patina is honest patina. Just as uns...

The Ural: Three wheels on the ground, a fourth as spare.    While the Harleys drew admirers, this Ural 650 stood alone. Russian machinery gets scant respect in Cuba today.    Yet to someone who hadn't run across a Ural before, the big three-wheeler was worth a closer look.    It wasn't, I think, as old as it first appeared. Based on the pre-war BMW R 71 – see the horizontally opposed cylinders? – the Ural has had the same basic design since production began in 1942 in Irbit, at the edge of the Ural Mountains. The sidecar-equipped bikes were intended to give the Red Army mobility against fast-moving German troops (themselves sometimes on BMW three-wheelers). A mobile Red Army. IMZ-Ural photo. .    This one could have been made any time before the 650 cc Ural engine was upgraded to a 750 in about 2000. Probably, however, it dated to before 1989, when Cuba lost the support of a dissolving Soviet Union.    With its stability...

Mike Norgard and his Hydra-Glide: Cuban heritage with some Canadian shine.    AND NOT  every Harlista is Cuban. Havana-based oil industry consultant Mike Norgard is a Canadian who came south to share the knowledge he acquired in the oil fields of Alberta.    He acquired his 1951 Harley-Davidson Hydra-Glide "in pieces" three years ago in Havana. Now the Harley that may well have originally served the Batista-era military is a showpiece with flawless chrome and gleaming white paint.    Mike says his regular trips back to Edmonton were a big help in the restoration project.    "I'm lucky," he says. "I can bring parts home and get them plated."

BSA tank badge looks like a one-off, and the tank itself appears to have been sourced from some later bike. Certainly the seat and front fender are replacements, and the oil cooler is an add-on. But frame and separately lubricated crankcase and twin-cylinder overhead-valve engine confirm this as a BSA is from the pre-unit era. I'm thinking it's a 650 A10, as built by the famous British manufacturer between 1950 and 1962. Another representative of the golden age of British motorcycles was this much-festooned Triumph. Underneath all the fringes and stickers, it looked largely original. I feel fairly safe in calling it a late-1950s T110 Tiger 650, but I'm sure someone will correct me if I'm wrong. See also: That's No Old Plug