Anyway, as our friendship progressed, he told me that he was into Indians, and he had in fact bought a military Chief in bits from Alan Forbes. His plan was to build it into a chop to start with in order to get the power plant sorted and then “do the chassis”. He had a shed on a farm outside Peebles in which he fixed various bikes, his own and other peoples. Time passed and the Chief gradually came to life. He had sent the bottom end to a crank company down south, but built the rest himself. I kind of joined in and it was a big day when the Chief first barked into life. I can remember kicking it a lot with a bar bolted onto the kicker, to try and get her running. Anyway, run it did, and Andy ran around on this bike for a while, doing some decent trips on her, including the Bulldog Bash. Even ran it up the strip. After all it had “thrashed not stashed” painted on the rear mudguard. The engine started to run rough a while later and after a strip down the crank thrust washers had spun and chewed the flywheels. I still have the well, grooved crankpin as a memento.
 

More Indian choppers on the VI here.
 

Thus began a long friendship with a certain red haired gentleman from San Francisco, Red Fred Johansen. We had a few more beers, tequilas etc and retired to Andy’s flat down Stockbridge. Next morning, Red Fred’s mate, Indian Fred, attacked his Chief, a bit of welding and grinding in Andy’s flat. Went back together ok and the old '37 Chief went to Poland after leaving the UK. Indian Fred had heard that there was a guy in Poland who had an Indian. What better reason to visit Poland? Red Fred’s '47 was running fine. We took them on a tour of Edinburgh, Andy on his Yam 750 V-twin, the two Freds on their Chiefs, and me on the Z1R playing tail end Charlie. It was priceless seeing the rubber necking and double takes that the two thundering Chiefs caused in the city. Excellent day after the tequila had worn off!

The 2 Freds bid their farewells and left on their travels. They had places to go, and people to meet. They toured Scotland, Europe, before splitting up and Red Fred returned to Scotland, where his grandfather was born. While coming up through the Lake District, Fred’s '47 had a clutch failure. It had shat itself. He was going nowhere. So on the phone to Andy, who took the plate from his Chief, which had breakdown insurance, put it on Fred’s bike, and called the breakdown company, who in turn appeared and shipped Fred’s bike to Andy’s new place outside Biggar. As Andy’s bike wasn’t running, he stripped his clutch, they fitted it to Fred’s Chief, and all was well in the world. The next week, Fred and I took off up north on the bikes. It was an education to see Chief suspension “work”. We had a blast. Toured the west coast then up to Inverness, where I had to leave Fred to his own devices. I have remained good friends with Fred ever since.
 

"Running Bare" Sport Scout racer.
 

Got back home to Scotland and met with my old mates, and after telling Andy about Fred’s hoard, he told me he had what was left of a 741 Scout power plant in his shed, and that I was welcome to it if I gave him what he paid for it, £15. The engine, primary and gearbox were found in a garden in Musselburgh, where it had lain for a long time. It had broken a valve a long time ago and had likely been replaced with a wartime "spare power plant". It was in a state, but, apart from the outer primary case being beyond repair, it was all there.
 

Various ideas came and went, but as so-called un obtainable parts were sourced, she took a life of her own. Front frame half came from a woodpile in Southern Ireland, the rear is from a bike that came back from Russia, the front end came from various sources, mainly Calvin. 

Fred came back over, and during a few beers and a "herbal lasagne" we had it figured out how to stroke it, fit two front barrels with the rear cam running backwards. We even considered fitting both barrels backwards with a turbo piped in between the cylinders. Man that lasagne was good stuff!

The first Indian rally at Traquair took place. Andy had had a rough split with his girl and had to sell the Chief to a guy from Germany. Rough time for him. Couldn’t face the rally. Was left to me to fly the flag. He saved a bit of cash and bought a complete 741 power plant and a pair of tanks from down south. We sort of fed of each other to keep us going on the Indian front.

Andy had bad health for a few years, including being told that he was HIV positive (turned out he wasn’t), and more unwell as the months progressed. I was living in Falkirk at the time and he called to tell us he had news and would be up that night. Bombshell time. Lung cancer, which wasn’t operable.

The next few months were a roller coaster. Hoping like hell that he could stave it off, we all dug deep. As he wasn’t working, due to radio and chemo therapy, we all tried to keep his spirits up. I gathered all my Indian stuff up and took it to his flat in Innerleithen, where we plotted about how we were going to get at least one Indian together, for when he got better. He bit the bullet and asked Alan Forbes to build him a Sport Scout. Time and his illness got the better of him. The Scout wasn’t finished. After a few visits to the Western General in Edinburgh, Andy passed away. He gave me £10 to buy a film to take pictures of his Indian at Alan’s shop. I never saw him again.

The funeral was a hard day for us all. I got on very well with his family, and when I told them that a fair bit of the Indian stuff was mine, they very kindly said to me “The Indian stuff was always yours and Andy’s, so we’d like for you to take it all”.

The Indian progressed in fits and starts for the next few years. Family and work got in the way of progress. Money was tight. This was a long-term project.
 

Front and rear wievs.

Last Christmas, I took it down to an engineering shop that I regularly work in, and did a dry build. This was the first time it looked like a bike.  Blew me away. A few doubters were now taking note. I liked the stripped down look, so decided to go the no lights route. Fred’s white Sport Scout racer had bit back. A magneto was required, and after several false starts, the bullet was bit and a brand new Joe Hunt magneto winged its way across the pond from America. Best small fortune I ever spent.
 

A few teething problems have come and went, but she has come a long way since that first £15 purchase. I am now the proud owner of a '43 741 Indian Scout bobber. The deadline was this years return of the International Rally to Traquair. If I hadn’t had it going for that, I wouldn’t have heard the end of it.

A lot of people have helped along the way, without whom I would never have gotten this far. The main inspirations have been Fred, and of course Andy. I would also like to thank the lads at Anderson and Wilson in Galashiels, without whom, my little Scout would not have been reborn

As for the title of this piece, Andy was a bit of an athlete in his youth, and was always winning medals. He was nicknamed Muttley.
 

Anyway, I came home Sunday night as she is on a daylight MOT. Crashed out after a roller coaster of a weekend. Phone rings at around 10. Red Fred is on the phone, “hey buddy, you won a prize”. I thought some sort of rat prize, but no. In the “peoples choice” vote, she came 6th, behind some cracking bikes and ahead of some others. Talk about putting the tin lid on an amazing weekend. To think, some people thought my wee bobber was the best of 300 Indians on site, and took the time to vote for her. An amazing weekend. She lives.