I probably wanted it even before I knew I wanted it. Long before American v-twins entered my life, I bought myself a Danish Nimbus straight four (because old hardtails just rule). Not long after, my then-girlfriend and now-wife, Pip gave me Jerry Hatfield’s "Indian Motorcycle Buyer’s Guide", where the picture of a ’41 Chief was the one I kept going back to, again and again.

Until a few years ago Indians were somewhat distant, elusive, even mythical creatures to me. You didn’t see them at rallies, much less on the street, unlike old Harleys, some of which I had acquired by then. Eventually Mads Johnsen - builder of the Alma Four - put me in touch with Moen, who has his Indian parts business close to where I live in Copenhagen, Denmark. That helped demystify the brand a little. At some point thereafter, the idea of owning an Indian must have lodged in the back of my head, so I started gathering whatever info I could. 
 

Link to video of a 341 in Japan here.

In Oxnard we stopped at the Top Dead Center motorcycle shop, to ask for directions. There we met John Parker, who offered to show us the way to the museum. Which, by the way, was still closed, but while standing there and talking, I mentioned my Knucklehead (JP lifted one eyebrow), and later that I also was on the lookout for an Indian (another eyebrow went up). To make a long story short, we ended up at John and his wife Jenny’s place for lunch. Both are super cool people, very nice and helpful. Jenny also owns the renowned Trophy Queen shop - lots of cool Christmas presents for your wife or girlfriend (or both!) here.

While talking bikes I said I was going to see RedFred, prompting John to have me take along a picture for him, and not say it was from John. It showed RedFred’s Indian with a rubber chicken stuffed up under his bike’s rear fender – apparently somebody thought he was a pansy for not drag racing his bike at a previous meet.

A week later, in San Fransisco, we met RedFred. At the time we knew little of his standing in the Indian motorcycle community, but I just thought the man was as friendly and cool as John and Jenny Parker had been. Saw his collection of motorcycle stuff, too. Of course I asked if he might have a ’41 Chief lying around, that he didn’t care for, to which he replied, “No. I’m a buyer, not a seller”. Guess I had to look elsewhere.
 

RF checking out the Chief. It pays to ask someone knowledgeable along when bying your first Indian.
 

Knowing that I now was becoming serious about getting a ’41 Chief, RedFred had already warned me that nothing at Bob’s was for sale. But just in case he might want to sell something after all, Bob would mention a price to which I could say yes or no. Bob doesn’t believe in haggling, and if I ignored that fact and tried anyway, we’d be out on the street in no time. 
 

Tarp went on the bike again, and I was back to square one.

"So why [the …] only a ’41, and what did I know about Indians anyway?", Bob inquired. Well, I’ve been riding since I was seventeen, and learned early on that I might as well go for what I’m going to end up with anyway, without all the detours. That’s what put me on my Knucklehead, after brief stints on the Nimbus and some other big twins. A few more hours went by, and eventually another tarp got pulled, revealing a ’41 Chief. It was scruffy, just the way I like them best, and it had all the right parts.

Bob called his price, I said ok, we shook hands and the deal was done. Simple as that. As mentioned above, I hadn’t expected to actually buy anything on this trip, so of course I had no cash with me. No problem. Bob didn’t even want a deposit. “Pay me when you get home”, he said. I think he found it sort of amusing that the bike was going to Europe, but who cared at this point? I now had the motorcycle of my dreams.

First thing on the agenda, right after dropping of the luggage at home, was to go straight to the bank and transfer the money. The Indian then arrived two months later, in a friend’s container along with five cars. Later the same day Moen dropped by, and we spent a couple of hours cleaning green goo out of the Mikuni carb, changing the oil, priming the pump, adjusting the ignition and fitting new plugs. A few kicks and it started right up. The engine sounded great, and the whole thing even smelled right. Bliss.
 

Running Chief ripped apart - about to rise from the ashes in new faster, smoother and even better looking form.

While Moen was doing his thing on the drivetrain, I took care of the aesthetics, quickly done with $60 worth of semi-gloss rattlecan paint, topped off with large Indian script on the tanks. Charley, my Knucklehead, was running fine, so there was no real rush getting the Chief done. A lot of work was needed on the chassis when I got deeper into it. Everything inside the wheels and brakes was renewed, forks and frame straightened, sheet metal fitted etc etc. Spending twice again the original purchase price on the rebuild had nothing to do with the speed at which things were progressing.

In due course the engine and newly rebuilt 3-speed trans returned, and Donde and I spent a few days installing everything. Then Donde looked at the list of Things To Do and said; “Ah, I think we’re done”. Me: “What!?!”. “We’re done. Everything is ready”. We looked at each other. Well, I guess this had to happen at some point.

Ignition on, and with three twists on the right hand throttle (pumper carb) and - seeing that the compression was now a lot higher than stock and everything tight in the new engine - all of my not inconsiderable girth on the kickstarter, Big Chief Frothing Madness fired up with an otherworldly, beautiful roar, a noise so insane that we both jumped away from the bike and started laughing hysterically. 

Apart from the fact that the kickstart arms and pedals keep self-destructing (three of each, but with the engine loosened up and all-new parts in the kicker department it should be the last), there has been no mechanical trouble at all. Still can’t catch the crotch rockets, but the Chief feels fast enough for me. It isn't by accident that it goes pretty good, though. It is now 80” with Truett & Osborn stroker flywheels, new H-profile rods, coated forged Ross pistons, Bonneville cams and followers, IPE electronic ignition in stock distributor and a 38 mm Dell’Orto carb. And the engine has been put together right, which is at least as important as the list of parts.

The Chief is perfect. Everything I wanted and more. Looks stock and almost is, but with this twisted Dr. Jekyll side, that commands respect even from the owner.

Lefty jockey shift. Dell'Orto pumper carb behind traditional teardrop air cleaner. Seat, seat bracket and springs, and handlebar tubes are custom made like many other small parts - adding an extra dimension to an otherwise pretty stock looking bike. It might look pretty in skirts, but it has fangs!