The Shovelhead Era


In 1970 a film called Tora! Tora! Tora! exploded across
movie screens, chronicling the events leading up to Pearl Harbor and winning the Academy Award for special effects.
It echoes what many called the Japanese invasion of the U.S. motorcycle market, a multi-pronged attack that seriously threatens
the life blood of Harley-Davidson. It isn't exactly a sneak attack, but it's just a devastating. Milwaukee fights
back, but it's a matter of numbers. This is also the year Nixon creates the Council of Environmental Quality
in order to fight water and air pollution. Can you spell catalytic converter? Somewhere in there is noise pollution,
and who's the most visible violator, the archenemy of peace and quiet? And the least politically connected? Yep,
the Bros. But hippies are taking plenty of heat, too, described as "drug-age Bedouins," the flower
children roam the country seeking .... insight? Sometimes bikers and hippies rub more than shoulders, although the counter-cultures
have much in common besides a fed report that grows some righteous herb. Two bumper stickers characterize the opposite
poles of the day: "Pot: Hobby Not Habit" and "If You Don't Like the Police, Next Time You're in
Trouble Call a Hippie." New social trends include the massive proliferation of massage parlors,
and the shattering of mores, as when Penthouse in its April issue becomes the first national mag to show pubic hair.
Speaking of hair, high schools are changing their dress codes to accommodate all the "long hairs," and we're talking
males. Bullets are flying Stateside as well when National Guardsmen "overact" at Kent State and
radical groups drop their own bombs in a wave of domestic terrorism. The police get a new derogatory name, "pig,"
but Hog or Hawg is still reserved for Harleys. Four commercial jetliners are hijacked by Arab commandos. They
all land. Call it practice. Under control of the American Machine and Foundry Company (AMF), who officially took over Harley-Davidson on January 7, 1969 (for about $22 million), the team at Harley-Davidson entered
the new decade with a lineup of 883cc Sportsters, including the optional "boat-tail" model and the now alternator vs. generator-equipped 1200cc FLs in various trims. There was also the 750cc flathead Servi-Car, not to mention the Italian-built Aermacchi two-stroke,
small displacement singles. The Shovelhead-powered FLs were so popular that in 1970 something like 150,000 held out their money, but nobody was taking it since demand had outstripped
supply. It would seem selling 150K more bikes would have brought some serious economic benefits to the company, but
they couldn't come up with the product. The Not So Hostile Takeover: Harley-Davidson Becomes AMF We
should say a word about the so-called takeover of Harley-Davidson by AMF. It seemed a function of the economic climate of the times, companies being swallowed up by ravenous conglomerates.
It was in 1965 that the company went public after having an accounting "guestimate" that each share of the stock
the family members held was worth twenty dollars. The figure was established after some shareholders wanted to sell
in order to invest their money in other enterprises. But in the late 1960s Harley-Davidson's top management not quite
stagnant, the head honchos thought they could kindle hotter sales by joining a larger organization with more capital and more
advertising oomph. There was some real worry about bankruptcy and Harley-Davidson become another extinct motorcycle
manufacturer statistic. So in 1967-68, the Company started making "we want to merge" sounds. The
blood in the water attracted three large conglomerates. The first was Bangor Punta, associated with railroads and sugar
companies in Cuba as well as pleasure boats, camping equipment, fashion fabrics, jewelry, guns, you name it. Apparently
Bangor Punta's main interest in Harley-Davidson was its line of golf carts, at that time 18 percent of Harley-Davidson's production.
Harley-Davidson itself wanted to sell to the Outboard Marine Co. (OMC), which built Johnsons and Evinrudes (the founder was
a friend of Arthur Davidson), but OMC turned down the twenty three dollars per share, saying it didn't want to be associated
with a company whose customers were nasty bikers. The other player in the competition to own Harley-Davidson, which turned
fiercely contested and controversial, was AMF, a company that started out making railroad cars but also made yachts, and later a wide assortment of products including
electrical components, bakery equipment, recreational products such as billiard tables, and, yes, bowling equipment, that
last becoming sarcastically synonymous with AMF for most people. It should be noted that the president of AMF, Rodney C. Gott, was a serious Harley rider himself (the Harley museum was later named after him) and wanted to add Harley-Davidson
to his company's line of "leisure time products." A Jean Davidson, Walter Davidson's granddaughter, recalls in her book,
Growing Up Harley-Davidson, "I remember going to the stock holder meetings and listening to the arguments for
and against the sale. There was a lot of yelling and such sadness. I remember thinking that I was glad my father
did not live to see this: he would be sick just being a part of the family arguments." She goes on, "Through
this whole process, Harley-Davidson President William H. Davidson thought the family was turning on him. He did not
want to sell out the company to anyone. The family members who were not working at Harley-Davidson wanted to liquidate
their stock." AMF came out on top and assimilated Harley-Davidson but made no big changes to the Milwaukee management; they even began a major
ad campaign spotlighting Harley-Davidson products. According to AMF, one of the real reasons they bought Harley-Davidson was a tax shelter, since they had made so much money in the previous
couple of years. In any case, after the acquisition Harley-Davidson stock suddenly rose in value. Rather
than rehash a well-hashed chapter in the Company's history, suffice it it to say that a lot of Harley people felt betrayed,
pissed off, confused, or a combination of all three when a traditional family-owned company went corporate with a capital
C. Some say AMF nearly killed Harley-Davidson, while others say AMF actually kept Harley above water in order for it to make its next revolutionary leap. The facts showed that, despite
the country's strong economic state and growing motorcycle sales, the Motor Co. was still in a long decline. Things
were looking bleak, and Harley-Davidson, wanting to know why, called for an in-depth analysis. Several
factors contributed to the poor state of affairs, including the Civil War level of production, insufficient floor space, and
the habit of family members sitting around and making decisions, a situation that deteriorated as the original founders
passed away. Most important, the company was out with consumer and the marketplace. It's said that it was the
AMF Sales and Marketing Department that encouraged Willie G. to hit the road and mingle with the masses of Harley fans, thereby
gaining insight into their needs.


In any case, the custom bike scene was an ever-growing industry, with builders slicing off the bulky Electra Glide front ends and bolting on whatever
wild and woolly custom forks they could find, one school or thought being to punish the front wheel out as far as possible, and then go even farther.
Several Southwest and West Coast dealers, hit hard by declining sales like the rest of the dealer network, also get credit
for putting together custom-styled bikes based on older machines or ex-cop bikes. Those who complain about the AMF era should take into account that AMF immediately doubled Harley-Davidson's output of bikes, but the price tags also increased, further disturbing dealers already
in a tough spot. A new Harley Big Twin carried the same heat as a new Chevy sedan. Also, when they pushed more bikes through the antiquated assembly line,
you could say quality control lost control. Worse, yet, some of the veteran workers were calling it quits. Bikes
were arriving at the dealers with pieces missing, literally. Warranty problems became a nightmare. Dealers were
freaking. In any case, AMF did not come up with the #1 log and the slogan "The All American Freedom Machine" and more or less hooked up with
the "biker" culture image Harley-Davidson had long disavowed. 1971 and the Debut of FX: A Harley That Created a Special Effect Now, as 1971, took over the calendar, enter a Willie G. Davidson design milestone .... call it brilliant one. It came in the form
of a design Harley-Davidson labeled the Super Glide and designated the FX. And it was superlative in all areas. It should be noted that the Super Glide was also the first major output of the now AMF-owned company. Apparently, AMF, more comfortable with bowling balls, scratched their corporate head when it came to the Harley-Davidson Styling Department
and more or less let Willie G. go his own way as long as he didn't redesign the bowling alley. So he did a bit of surgical
transplanting, the organ donor being the Sportster, in particular its cool aluminum front forks. Not only did they look good but they worked marvelously. To make
the whole stand out visually, Willie G. then designed the famous or infamous boat-tail seat and tail section. The FX held a list of significant "firsts." Besides being the first new design under the AMF corporate logo, it was the first Factory custom, period. Before its introduction, no other bike company had paid so much serious heed to what customers were
complaining about or asking for. You got whatever the manufacturer dished out, then you fixed it. Not anymore.
And Harley-Davidson kept the FX squarely in the family; it was an evolutionary hybrid that brought together some of the best features of two already existing
models. Blood and tradition still held firm. Both Sportster riders and FL fans could appreciate its family lineage. The FX, a truly daring though well thought out move, was Harley-Davidson's first "cruiser" set to fan the lust of a new
riding public that saw a stock bike in the showroom with enough tweakness to satisfy the innate custom cravings. It
also was the progenitor of a long line of famous Harleys; the Fat Bob, the Wide Glide, the Super Glide II .... Harley history repeating itself for sure, but always with a new twist and not just on the throttle. The
dealers liked it; the buying customers liked it. It looked great, started easy, ran fast, handled well (70 pounds lighter
than an FL). What was not to like? As David K. Wright says in his history of the company, "It was the perfect bike
at the perfect time. Somehow Willie G. had created something that was as outrageous as a Yippie and as conservative
as an Orange Country cop in one master stroke." And where were you in 1971, when the first "Have a Nice Day!"
yellow smiley buttons showed up? Some people didn't take too kindly to them, thinking they looked a lot like the guys
in black pajamas we were fighting in Nam. Millions of others thought otherwise, taking up with chant that we still hear
today. Lovable bigots bet a boost with the debut of Archie Bunker in TV's All
in the Family. Nam blazes on. At home, a lot of pickup trucks are carrying "America: Love It
or Leave It" bumper stickers, while a lot of VW bumper counter with "Vietnam: Love It or Leave It," pointing
out the wide diversity of American tastes in more ways than one. In an act that affects motorcycle
sales, and about everything else, Prez Nix orders a ninety-day wage-price-rent freeze and, very significant, a 10 percent
surcharge or foreign imports .... and that definitely includes product with the names Honda and Yamaha. You can hear
the cheering from Milwaukee all the way to the custom shops in California. AMF and the original Harley people were growling increasingly at odds. Some say there was even deliberate sabotage on the
Factory assembly line. The line had been drawn. It was AMF on one side, Harley-Davidson on the other. Some dealers ever rubbed off the AMF logo from their bikes, so deep was their distrust and dislike of the situation. It got more depressing when William
J. Harley died on August 23, 1971, at age fifty-nine, a guiding Harley-Davidson light gone out. Then Walter Davidson,
Jr., resigned as VP and sales manager. He had strongly promoted Harley brand loyalty but at the same time peeved the
dealers, who thought he was out of touch with marketplace reality. 1972 and "Selective Deletions" The beginning of 1972 saw a magazine sales record when the first issue of the feminist magazine Ms.
sold all 300,000 copies in nine days. In some kind of rebuttal, Burt Reynolds shows up naked in Cosmopolitan magazine. Now when did Joe Namath show up in panty hose? American workers revolt at
a GM plant, complaining not over money but over worker conditions. They have to punch out 101.6 Chevy Vegas every hour.
Have you ever driven a Vega?
Riding a Sportster was a better option, especially since the '72 model year benefited from a displacement increase to 61 cubic inches while
the wildly successful boat-tail rear end of the FX was sunk from sight, much to the happiness of all. AMF looked for ways to beef up their marketing position. One strategy was to get dealers to clean up their act, spiff up
their showrooms to AMF standards, and upgrade their sales tactics. Those who rankled at the suggestions lost their franchises when renewals
came up. Often veteran Harley-Davidson dealers summarily deleted from the rosters, as were small town shops. AMF/Harley-Davidson
did not make many friends as a result.


Meanwhile America's air passengers were getting peeved as
well. At U.S. airports we begin inspection of passenger luggage, in response to a growing number of hijackings.
They aren't looking at shoes, yet. For some reason, vodka starts outselling whiskey in the United States. Some
say it means momre Russian spies have infiltrated the country. The Nicest People make Jonathan Livingston Seagull,
the book about a bird, the biggest selling book since Gone With the Wind. In Alabama, Governor Wallace
is shot and paralyzed by a twenty-year old busboy .... from Milwaukee. 1973: The Metrification
of American Motorcycling An average house in 1973 cost $28,900 while a collector paid $153,000 for Hitler's
Mercedes. Bros can choose from bumper stickers that read: "Beautify America - Get a Haircut" and "Don't
Laugh, You Don't Know If Your Daughter Is in the Back of This Van." Unfortunately, at least for
Harley-Davidson, that van might also have been carrying home a new Honda or Yamaha; sales figures were leaning largely to
the Japanese side of the motorcycle pendulum swing. Not only were sales increasing but so were dealerships. What
once were mom-and-pop Harley shops were becoming Japanese bike emporiums. With the U.S. economy in great shape, Harley
sales held, more than seventy thousand bikes rolling out of the AMF reconfigured manufacturing facilities. Still, the Japanese bikes were gaining ground, both in the FL territory and as the cop bike of choice. Why? They were of advanced designs, offered high performance, and required far less frequent overhauls. So who were these interlopers, these invaders for the Land of the Rising
Sun, that were, in the eyes of many, using two-wheels instead of torpedo bombers to undermine the United States? In
a nutshell, the competition had determination, organization, modern assembly lines and methods, high standards, motivation,
and intelligence. And they had a plan. A long-term plan that saw beyond the first-quarter sales figures.
Some say the Japanese were just good at taking someone else's idea and making it better. Maybe that was true at first,
but eventually they would carve their own motorcycle destiny. It's known that at the beginning of the twentieth century the developing
Japanese industrial complex imported a number of foreign made automobiles to see how they ticked; from them they picked out
the best features as a basis for their infant car industry. A similar method was employed by the Japanese bike builders.
The first Japanese car appeared in 1911; two and three-wheelers became popular in the 1920s. Into the 1930s, motorcycles
built in Japan were usually powered by copies of both British motors (JAP) and American Harleys and Indians. After the
destruction of World War II, cheap transportation was needed. Bicycles equipped with small motors was one way to go. A similar evolution
had preceded in the U.S. development of motorcycles. Whereas Mitsubishi had been making Zero fighter planes, it now
turned out motorcycles, one, called the Rocket Queen, was built in the early 1950s. Another post-war re-cycler of
Japanese army pumps and electric generators was the legendary Soichiro Honda, who founded the Honda Motor Company in 1948
with about three thousand dollars. it was the first Japanese company to build both engines and frames. His first
big success was the 50cc, two-stroke Cub, sold by the thousands on a monthly basis (a total of 15 million sold!). His
clip-on engines and mopeds evolved to a 150cc OHV bike called the Dream. And it was, relatively speaking. One that had come true for Honda and generally for the
rider, too. By the early 1960s Honda was amassing huge racing successes as well, adding to the prestige. The 250cc,
twin-cylinder Dream would start the revolution in the U.S. and European market places in the late 1950s. Just two bikes
arrived in 1958, but that trickle would turn into a tsunami, much to the chagrin of Milwaukee. In 1962 Honda sold 65,000
bikes to its burgeoning American customer base. By 1968 they had sold 1 million bikes in the United States! Accessories
like electric starters and quality, leak-proof engines made them especially appealing. As did their cost. Especially
the cost. It all quickly began to affect all other manufacturers, including the Brits and Harley-Davidson. In
1969 the motorcycling world was rocked by the introduction of the CB750, the four-cylinder "superbike" featuring
disc brakes, serious power, and its own charisma. In 1970 a 750cc Honda ridden by Dick Mann won the Daytona 200.
Honda was winning on the track and also in the showroom with motorcycle success stories such as the 1975 Honda GL GoldWing
cruiser, which met the FL head on; it continues to this day. During the 1970s Hondas were being ridden, in a wide variety of sizes, by all kinds
of the Nicest People. Old, young, male, female - Honda had made motorcycles easily accessible to all. But Harley
riders weren't part of the "all." There was still a difference and, as they say, vive la difference.
Nineteen seventy three also saw another Harley-Davidson milestone of sorts, as President William H. Davidson
retired, more or less because he was tired of being little more than a figurehead under AMF rule and wanted to concentrate on his civic and outside business activities. In any case, other top dogs,
even the Prez of the USA, were feeling the heat as well. 1974: Dumping and Pumping Tricky Dick left office in 1974,
which was not as puzzling as the 50 to 70 percent increase in income reported by major U.S. oil companies. While we
wait in gas lines, they're laughing all the way to the bank. Of course there is an oil embargo to blame. Dr. Heimlich
comes up with his maneuver so we can puke out stuff that's choking us, and none too soon. The new president, Gerald
Ford ("I'm a Ford, not a Lincoln") pardons Nixon. More bad news for Harley-Davidson came in the form of a blunder in
the court room. Believing the Japanese were dumping bikes on the U.S. market in an effort o sink Harley-Davidson, AMF management decided to go after the Federal Trade Commission to help redress this wrong. Basically they wanted the government
to order the Japanese bike makers to mark up their price tags or pay more duties on machines imported to the United States.
The blunder occurred when the commission asked Harley-Davidson for testimony from their dealers. Big mistake.
The dealers were already pissed about dealing with quality problems, swallowing the warranty costs, and being made to buy
Harley-Davidson products they didn't want (like the Italian-made lightweight Aermacchi motorcycles.) The
bottom line was the commission did not find in favor of Harley-Davidson. They said, Yeah, the Japanese might have some
dumped some bikes on the market, but nothing that really hurt the Motor Co., which actually hurt itself by not keeping up
with the times and building more modern machines. Boy, did that sting, especially when you add in the lawyers' fees
- the incredibly complex wrangling filled four volumes of testimony. The only good aspect, at least for the dealers,
was the end of Harley's importation of Aermacchis. Also, there was a bit of a push to design and build something better.
But it would not be until the '79 model year that something came out of it, with a larger capacity engine and initial R &
D for an updated 80-inch motor.


About the only good news coming out of '74 was the introduction
of the thong string bikini. Yes, there is hope for America. A bumper sticker proclaims, "I'm Not a Dirty
Old Man, I'm a Sexy Senior Citizen." But in the showrooms, it was not only the Hondas that were hurting Harley
sales .... and image. Another big hitter was the Kawasaki group, founded in 1949. Their first machine was a 123cc,
8-hp two-stroke built in 1961. Two-stroke designs continued in various displacements, but there was a quantum leap in
1969 with the appearance of the fearsomely fast 60-hp, 497cc, three-cylinder models. Even more scary was the 1971 746cc
triple. Riding one of the 125-mph beasts was not for the meek because of the mind-blowing acceleration and less than
stable handling. The legendary KZ series of formidable four-stroke, four-cylinder machines began with the 900 Z1, appearing
in 1972, followed by the 1015cc Z1000 in 1977. 1975: Detroit Bites the Bullet In 1975 car
sales, one of the barometers of America's economic health, were down, the excuse the auto industry used to can about 275,000
workers. Bumpers sprout "Eat Beans - America Needs Gas" and "If Everything Is Coming Your Way, You're
in the Wrong Lane." Harley's other Japanese competitor, Suzuki, was kicking up a storm on
the international racing circuits at this time, eventually gaining the 1976 World Championship in the 500cc Class. Suzukis
were also doing it in the dirt, and doing it well. Their motocross racers brought home three wold championships during
the year. Suzuki, founded in 1936, has produced a variety of interesting machines, some would say weird, for example,
the Wankel rotary-engined RX5 of 1975, with its Buck Rogers instrument pod, and the three-cylinder, two-stroke, 738cc GT750,
the venerable Water Buffalo cruiser, so named for its large radiator. 1976: Funny, I Don't Feel
Two Hundred We have a really big party in the spirit of '76. Not the seventy-third anniversary of Harley-Davidson,
but America's Bicentennial Birthday Bash. Everybody's got a "handle," and we're all chattering away on our
new CBs, grandfathers of the cell phone. The Gong Show is a hit, which says something about something, and
the first drive-in window funeral home opens in Louisiana. Nope, they still haven't found Jimmy Hoffa. The
major milestone for '76? It's gotta be Apple unveiling its first personal computer. Can you remember when people
didn't use 'em? At least we're driving big, bad cars; 70 percent of all U.S. cars are powered by the good 'ol, ass-kicking
Detroit V-8. And on the big screen we hear Stallone's Rocky Balboa utter the most famous of Americanisms: "Yo!"
Bumper stickers meanwhile proclaim "Unemployment Isn't Working" and "Happy Birthday, America" in the same
breath. AMF was still calling all the shots, even to the point of pressuring Harley-Davidson to pull an ad it ran in a 1976 issue of
Easyriders magazine, the premier pro-Harley mag of all, but one that apparently offended AMF corporate suits. Another loss was the passing on December 17 of John E. Harley, son of Founder William S. Harley. 1977:
The Factory and Dealers Feud Lucky numbered 1977 wasn't. Elvis is gone a only forty-two, and VW discontinues
the Beetle. Detroit pulls a couple real stinkers, one being the "downsizing" of cars to meet the import threat,
the other, GM'S unleashing of the first diesel-powered American cars, supposedly to benefit from cheaper fuel costs.
Bumper stickers have the last say, as in "May the Floss Be with You" and "Honk If You Love Cheeses."
Milwaukee was waging a market war on at least three fronts. The third in the trio of Harley competitors
from Japan would be Yamaha. Back in 1954, and the newest of the Big Three, the parent company was already one of the
largest manufacturers in the world, known for everything from world-class motorcycles to world-class pianos. Two-stroke
Yamaha factory racers brought back boatloads of racing trophies, dominating the Nationals all through the '70s, and their
famous line of TZ race bikes, sold to privateers, were the bikes of choice for years. Their street bikes are also known
for muscle, and in 1977, the introduction of the four-cylinder, 998cc XS1000 caused a sensation. The
formation of yet another organization had some long-lasting effects on Harley-Davidson. In 1977, a Harley enthusiast,
Carl T. Wicks, of Long Beach, California, sought to bring together all Harley owners, from dresser bikes to bikers.
The Harley-Davidson Owners Association as conceived would improve communications between riders and the Motor Co. and, it
was hoped, resolve some of the now serious mechanical problems inherent in the bikes rolling out of Milwaukee. Wicks
asked for support from Harley-Davidson corporate but eventually ran afoul of their official policies when he began publishing
articles on how to fix some of the glaring mistakes popping up and out of their bikes. One could say these was somewhat
of a chasm growing between Harley enthusiasts and dealers and the Motor Co., a span that even Evel Knievel could not bridge. 1978:
I Love the Smell of Catalytic Converters in the Morning In 1978, besides some really bad cars, we got to see John Belushi in
a toga in National Lampoon's Animal House, and disco music was in, thanks to the previous year's Saturday Night
Fever. A bumper sticker says, "Live Dangerously: Take a Deep Breath." President Carter is
coughing up a storm of environmental measures, resulting in changes in the automobile industry, which is ordered to address
the toxic exhaust emissions polluting America. Motorcycles feel the crunch, too, performance being sacrificed in the
name of healthier breathing. 1979:
A Growing State of Crisis There was a great moment, or two, in 1979, but we forgot what they were.
The Iranian hostage nightmare, destined to last a year and indirectly cause Carter not to be elected president again, begins.
A bumper sticker rubs it in: "Jimmy Who?"


AMF was thinking of moving away from the leisure products about this time, probably a smart move considering that, by the end
of 1979, OPEC had upped the ante on global energy consumption, raising the cost of crude oil. However, the Japanese
bike builders continued high production, offering a huge array of bikes to the public. Even in the face of the shift
in world economic outlook, the Japanese did not blink. The after-market suppliers catering to Harley riders were having
their parts made in Japan or Taiwan, further undercutting Factory product lines. Harley was offering a 74 and 80 cubic
inch bikes, Police models, and the Fat Bob FX with a 5-gallon tank. In an effort to pump up brand loyalty, Harley-Davidson staged a number of promotional events,
many of which featured a sledge hammer bashing Japanese bikes. The dealers must have thought about doing some of their
own bashing since the new bikes they were getting needed overhauls after only 5,000 miles because of defective components.
Something really had to be done, or it was going to be all over. It came just in time in the form of the 1980 model FLT, a much needed improvement over the aging FLH. But we're still in the '70s, so make note and read on. During this decade of AMF and the Japanese onslaught, it was war, and one of attrition. But for motorcycling in general this was a time of healthy
growth, with sales rapidly expanding and more people out two-wheeling. The Japanese expanded from lightweight bikes
into the cruiser class, knocking on, then knocking down, the door on a market Milwaukee considered its own. Harley fought
back with factory customs, although many said the design changes are superficial, the long-in-the-tooth V-Twin Milwaukee mill a vibrating, gearbox-clunking anachronism. From the outside, it seemed Harley-Davidson was locked in
a mind-set of survival paranoia as it went after people using the logo or anything close to it. By the mid-1970s, although sales of motorcycles had reached a million
units during the peak years (70,000 Harleys for 1975, falling to 61,000 in 1976), AMF was losing interest in the Harley-Davidson acquisition, one of many, all of which were responsible to shareholders.
One sour point for AMF was the Harley-Davidson workforce strike in '74, resulting in a three-month loss of bike production. Add in the realization
that Harleys could not be mass-produced economically plus the belief that the Japanese had been allowed to dump their excess
production in the United States at rock-bottom prices, and the picture looked bleak from a bean counter's perspective.
The hard facts were that, with a market share of
5 to 6 percent, their product was outdated, its production limited, its consumer base split between the dressers and the cultists,
and the Japanese pushing way ahead of the game. In other words, AMF wanted out. They began looking for buyers, even contacting John Deere, but no bites. During the same period, the Japanese literally invaded U.S. territory setting up
their own facilities in this country. Honda bought property in Marysville, Ohio, where it began building cars and bikes.
Meanwhile Yamaha was rolling its KZ machine from its plant in Lincoln, Nebraska. It was at this location that the Kawasaki
police specials were produced, soon supplanting Harley police bikes across the country, going for the throat of one of Milwaukee's
most American monopolies. It was, as always, a matter of money or greed or whatever label you want to put on it.
It was more important to save American dollars by buying foreign police bikes than to support an American icon. Of course,
quality and dependability may have been factors, too. Around this time a new Harley cost about as much as a heavy-duty
Dodge, another popular police vehicle. To make matters worse, the Italian bike builder Moto Guzzi was selling some of
its 850cc police specials to U.S. law enforcement. The company was in a state of crisis on all levels. Against the background of corporate conflicts, the trend moved away
from cutting up old bikes to customizing stock bikes with aftermarket parts, as more products became available. While
Harleys were the principal recipients of the custom trends, both British and Japanese bikes were often treated to the personal
touch, too. As the 1970s ended, Hollywood
would see its own dream fulfilled, fiction would turn into fact, and one of its own would become president of the United States
of America. And Ronnie would take action, taking on the "Evil Empire" of the USSR and faltering economy and
still having time to give some much needed support to the longest-lasting American motorcycle company, in many ways a microcosm
of the country itself. The AMF era was drawing to a close, and a whole chapter was about to be written in the Book of Motorcycle Destiny.


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