Cycle World
February 1999
Page 26

Question: What do you call a boatload of Indian revivalists at the bottom of the ocean? Answer: A good start.

We know, we know...you're fed up to your fedora with all these Second Comings of Springfield shenanigans. Us to, but here comes another chapter. Pull up a chair, get comfortable.

When last we left this whole sordid mess, Sterling Consulting Corp., the Colorado-based receivership trying to consolidate the various claimants to the Indian name, had slapped Kawasaki with cease-and-desist papers in regard to the 1500 Drifter, Kawi's skirt-fendered homage to a 1940s Chief. Small stuff, it turns out, compared to the fireworks that soon followed.

Back in 1997 when Sterling offered the Indian name for sale (for $20 million, with no outright guarantee it actually owned the rights), only one buyer stepped up, a Lonnie Labriola, former Sterling employee, who came up with $6 million (mostly from the Cow Creek Band of Oregon's Umpqua Tribe) and pledged the remaining $14 mil. Doing business as Eller Industries, he then started gathering people. Bob Lutz, recently retired chairman at Chrysler, came onboard as an adviser; James Parker of RADD front-end fame worked up several chassis/bodywork combos; Roush Industries, famous for it's NASCAR involvement, was charged with developing a motor.

A capable bunch who, as the photos show, came up with a none-too-shabby mockup, certainly better than any neo-Indian that has come before. Bear in mind that the motor shown here is cast in resin, but the rest of the bike is metal and shows some serious engineering—as in wheels, brakes, fork, etc. that are purpose-built and not just aftermarket pick-ups.

Only problem is that on the eve of the bike's unveiling in early November, the Sterling group, claiming Labriola had defaulted on payments, got a restraining order preventing the bike from being shown. Seems Sterling had another deal percolating, one involving yet more players, including Indian Motorcycle of Canada, the apparent owner of the trademark north of the border, and the California Motorcycle Company, maker of clone Harleys. This new entity proposed to hang skirted fenders on CMC's Big Twin lookalikes to make 35 "limited-edition, signature-series, new 1999 Indian Chiefs," all yours for $24,000 a pop.

If this sounds like a fake Harley trying to be a fake Indian—offensive as that may be—you are correct, sir. Says Allan Girdler, author of the definitive Harley-Davidson and Indian Wars, "When I was a kid, Pat Boone covering Gene Vincent songs was the worst thing in the world...but this is like Elton John doing Little Richard."

As if things weren't weird enough already, now Eller is seeking an injunction against Sterling, as is the group of bilked Indian investors the receivership was formed to present in the first place! For its part, Sterling suggests the CMC-built device may soon have a proprietary engine, which, if true, would take some of the stink off that particular project. Kawasaki, by the way, wanting to avoid a protracted legal battle has agreed to fork over a one-time fee of $75,000 to the Canadian group, providing a judge okay's that sale—although given recent legal developments, hard to say when (or if) that might be.

Anyway, that's the story so far, highly abridged version. More fireworks to follow.