The Raw Mechanics Behind the Hand-Fabricated Falcon Kestrel Motorcycle

June 24, 2010 By Nicolas Stecher

In 2008, Ian Barry's first Falcon motorcycle, dubbed the Bullet and built for actor Jason Lee, turned the custom-motorcycle world on its head. Receiving international acclaim, it is credited with helping kick-start the British track-racer movement. After two years Barry has now unveiled his followup effort, the Kestrel, to heightened anticipation. And while rave reviews in the Los Angeles Times and Cycle World have placed it far beyond the Bullet, to understand the true achievement of the Kestrel one needs to dig a little deeper than the 80-hour paint and pinstripe job and stainless steel exhaust pipe.

There was a moment of tension on a picturesque May afternoon at the Quail Motorcycle Gathering. There on that country club grass field in Carmel, Calif., all seemed perfect in the world: The sky was sunny and cloudless, the ocean breeze carried the Pacific crispness over to cool the well-heeled crowds. But the winner of the Best Custom Motorcycle, Ian Barry, sat frustrated on his gleaming Kestrel Falcon motorcycle, jumping up and down on the unresponsive kick start as if he were performing CPR on a loved one. After about 10 kicks, the amused look from friends turned to concerned stares, and after about 15 kicks you could hear a pin drop.

And then, on the 17th or so kick, the Kestrel roared to life.

As its 750-cc engine engaged, a deep melodious rumble filled the presentation podium. The sound of internal combustion and the heady smell of gasoline fumes confirmed this was a real grease-and-piston engine. No computer chips or fuel injectors in sight; this was the paradoxical sound of a 40-year-old engine humming like a strapping teen. But as the bike rode up on the podium to be rewarded for its pristine image, the real story wasn't its polished copper fuel lines or palladium-leafed logo—it was the blood-and-guts engineering thumping away within the Kestrel Falcon's frame. While all plaudits rained down on the aesthetic elegance of the bike, the shining metal blinded most from seeing the effort and sweat that went into its mechanical creation.