It is a particularly common thing in the biker world, identified by the "By Bikers, For Bikers" phrase that has been the mark of motorcycle-related enterprises, and one to which American-V happily subscribes to.

So you've got a warehouse full of precision steel and a staff of the sort of people who not only have a spanner and know how to use it, but also have their own ideas as to what an ideal bike is, which - by nature of bikers - is different in every case. Doesn't take much imagination to put two and two together and come up with the inevitable four, and give them facility to put their ideas into practice and the bikes you see here are the results of that process. It obviously isn't as easy as that, otherwise there'd be nothing left on the shelves and the staff would be up to their armpits in building their own bikes all day … but then , if the shelves were empty, there'd be nothing to do (except refill them and explain just how good the part that the client had ordered looks in its new home on the development bike). P'raps not, then.

Everything in moderation, is the order of the day: those staffers who put the best case forward and can demonstrate an ability to produce something that showcases the company's products are encouraged to play in their own time and the resulting machines are used in press campaigns and catalogues … but other than an occasional pic we don't get to see much or know much about them. We ran "Tribal Iron" in the launch issue, and "Bikers Lust" more recently, but we're wary of doing too many "shop" bikes because they can be beyond the scope of the rest of us, in our sheds, garages and workshops. Don't get me wrong: same imagination and, in some cases, the same parts are used and there's nothing at all wrong with having people with good vision and clear ideas generating top class bikes, but it shouldn't be to the exclusion of the grass roots community from whence they came, and even if the amateurs stumble a little on their way to realising their ideal bike, a sow's purse can be made out of a pig's ear eventually - and it is good to show what can be, and has been done to provide final inspiration.

Which brings us back to square one.

Sportster:
We haven't got as many details on this as we'd like, just some nice pics to whet your appetite while we pick through the images to give an idea of what's going on.

Most obvious change is to the overall shape of the bike, which can work against the humble XL. No other Harley-Davidson hangs its identity quite so much on a single part, as the Sportster does on its trademark fuel tank, and I'll cheerfully admit to having dismissed bigger tanks on Sportsters as a cheap way to creating a touring Sporty, but in this case it is more for the overall look, and I have to say it works well for me. The sloping line at the rear of the tank that would ordinarily lead into the frame lines of the softail, mimics the line of the rear cylinder head as if it was the original intention. But it's not just any old tank either: fillers are lockable flush aircraft type, and digital instruments have been dropped into the dugout and flush filled to keep things tidy. The economy of line is further accentuated by the low slung LePera bare bones solo seat.

The builder isn't scared of doing a little metalwork of his own as can be seen from the rear mudguard, which appears to be a bobbed rear fender with an additional section added beneath the rear light which retains aspects of the Sportster's original line, resolves the taillight requirements in an interesting way and gives something to hang the enormous rear plate on - which underlines that TüV was required, and makes the rest all the more impressive.

Keeping a sporty stance, the plain footrests are fairly well rearset for a Sportster and look like they use a Buell gearchange mechanism and a reversed master cylinder to keep controls within reach, and the forward-leaning stance will be aided and abetted by the flattish handlebars. Progressive shocks at the back suggest similar treatment in the fork legs, but that is only supposition … and common sense.

Having no tech spec doesn't help confirm that the steering head geometry has been changed, but it looks much more laid back than the sub-thirty degree rake of the stocker. There's nothing to suggest it is anything other than the stock frame which suggests that the additional rake is courtesy of what looks like a set of JOS yokes which can retain the stock angle or add another five degrees of rake, which would give it almost 35-degrees. They also add a bit of distance in the normally narrow front end and provide an anchor for the custom bottom mount headlamp. A steering damper is fitted but no idea why: this should be steady with this geometry.

To give an indication that this is as much about go and show, the raked-back RevTech/SuperTrapp 2-into-1 exhaust system looks the business, and the KuryAkyn Hypercharger hides a carburettor of unknown specification but anticipated capability. And because "go" needs to be tempered with "stop", braking is courtesy of RST 4-pot calipers - one at each end - on a pair of unknown fully-floating disk rotors, with braided hoses keeping fluids under control.

As with anything, the paint finishes off the project and the shapes suit the style of the bike very well, with the ABS chin fairing adding a splash of colour up front, and particularly suiting the lines of the exhaust headers - covering up the engine left bare by the sweep of the pipes.

RevTech Razor
If the Sportster is an example of what can be achieved quite simply, the Razor ups the ante a bit.

The brainchild of CCE's head of Marketing, Axel Scherer, the Razor is a European sports V-Twin: I'm loathe to call it a Harley because there is little made by the Motor Company contained within it. Axel is not a natural Harley man and only became acquainted with the engine characteristics after joining CCE: his preferred ride until that point was a BMW, and he still has a soft spot for them.

Starting with an 88-cube RevTech motor and a Santee frame with 33-degree rake, Axel and his team set out to produce something that would be practical for day-to-day use with cornering abilities and plenty of power throughout the rev range. Taking fuel metering from Mikuni's HSR42 breathing through a RevTech / K&N filter, and sparks from the Crane Hi-4 he followed a well-trodden path erring on the side of safety, but when you can easily achieve 80PS why mess about too much. Exhausts, as ever, are the subject of individual taste, and Axel went for the
2-into-1 Shark system, modified to fit the bike as he wanted. It's a look that is more prevalent in Sportster circles, but I have to say it gives the back of the bike a business-like appearance, and is partly intended - together with the fat 200 section rear tyre - to give the local Jap bikes something to mull over when he blasts past.

The engine is mated to a RevTech 6-speed 'box via a 3-inch open Primo belt and a Pro Clutch to make sure the power generated can find a reliable path to the rear wheel: a 5x16 inch RevTech Stiletto fitted with a 200 section tyre.

Which brings us neatly to the chassis: the Santee frame is fitted with a pair of narrow-glide upside down forks from Spike, fitted in a pair of matching yokes. The front wheel is another Stiletto, a 3x19 inch this time, tucked under a Sonnet mudguard. At the back, the rear suspension is taken care of by Progressive Suspension, controlling a Santee swingarm, and if you thought you recognised the rear belt pulley, it's because it matches the wheels, being another RevTech Stiletto item.

Brakes all-round are RevTech - well, if you can't use it when you have unhindered access to it, it doesn't make for a good advert - a two-pot at the rear and twin six-pots up front, on EBC disc rotors, and the rubberwear is from Avon, a long standing favourite of CCI.

A large part of the shape of any bike is the fuel tank and seat combination: it is the reason why the Deuce doesn't cut it for me, and the reason why this looks so well: a stretched CCE fuel tank follows the line of the frame down from headstock to seat, emphasising the lines of the pseudo hardtail, before meeting the solo Le Pera saddle tucked into the angle between the gentle slope of the frame rails and ascending rear mudguard. It's a classic line, emphasised by the horseshoe oiltank beneath, and one that I'm always astonished not to find in each subsequent H-D catalogue.

The other thing that picks a bike out from the crowd is its paint, and this scheme was based on an idea between Axel and Fred Kodlin, who painted the bike with Steve. Colour? I've no idea. Axel has no idea. All he offers is "Ask Fred!"

Finishing touches are a wide variety of bits from the great and the good, from a Jesse James rear mudguard to Ness handlebar controls and single mirror on a pair of CCE T-Bars; Doss provides the lighting and indicators up front, while Ness provides directional information either side of an unidentified Catseye tail-light.

Do you want to know the awful truth?

The whole bike took 4 weeks to build at a cost of 60,000 DM - and if anyone can tell me what that is in Euros I'll be happy to update that figure, but I'd be happier still in proper money: I have no accurate recollection of the exchange rate while the DM existed, except a rough ballpark (I seem to recall) of 3:1, making it roughly £20K.

Back to the Beach
I have absolutely no information on this bike: only the pictures but it's a good looking bike, and most of the parts are easily identifiable so here goes nothing.

Another Harley-alike, this time based around an S&S Superstock motor, with a RevTech 6-speed box tucked away into a Softail-a-like chassis running a 35-degree rake. How you tell all these frames from each other without a spec sheet is beyond me, but I'd hazard a guess that it is a Longneck from Santee - I'm sure someone will tell me otherwise if it ain't so. I'm almost certain that it's got Santee's chrome swing-arm at the rear.

Those heavyweight-looking forks owe a lot of their girth to a set of billet fork tube covers from a certain Fred Kodlin, which are available for anything from stock to 8-inch overstock fork tubes. In this case they look to be fitted into matching F.Kodlin yokes - visually the straight yokes as opposed to the alternatives with an in-built additional 5-degrees of forks angle. Either way, it provides a good match to the custom scalloped headlamp that looks to be one of CCI's own. Indicators up front are a pair of Doss square markers, while the rear looks like a pair of Pro-One Viper dual filament items. The tail-light … sorry, THAT tail-light has got me stumped. It looks like it could be a hi-level tail-lamp from a car, and I can't see it listed anywhere but it also appears on the Kit Bike below ... methinks Fred might have been at work again, but don't quote me. Looks well, though: hovering there in space above the rear "Flip Flop" mudguard. The bars are also a mystery: T-bars certainly, and billet possibly, but who made 'em? They hold the speedo in a bracket that appears to be an integral part of the handlebars and risers, but more than that I can't tell you, unless you want to know that the grips look like Landmark Diamond 2 parts, and the mirror is a Pro-One.

Wheels front and back are RevTech Scorpions with matching disc rotors and rear pulley.

The motor looks quite a bit bigger on this bike than most, and you can put this down to the small, single cap stretched tank which has the familiar lines of the currently fashionable stretched fat-bob, but which is either one made for a Sportster adapted to fit, or else an aluminium custom tank. Behind that, and looking a little lengthy for my liking, is a hand-stitched seat that looks to be too good a fit to the frame/tank combination to be an off-the-shelf item: all the more likely when you consider the colour - which I can't believe is a stock one.

I've done my bit now: and the pages of my CCI catalogue are closing: this was never intended to be a list of component parts, and to break any custom bike down into its constituents does it no favours, because they are always more than the sum of their parts. At the end of the day, this bike is a pretty lean-looking beach cruiser with colours reminiscent of summer, and that's enough. I don't know why the Fred Kodlin exhausts emphasise the thoughts of summer and beaches but they somehow do, as does the air filter - which has nothing to do with waves and surf, but is in fact a "Halebob" from that man again, Fred Kodlin, as is the crankcase breather behind it. Why so much of Fred's stuff? Because this is CCE - Custom Chrome Europe - and they are based in Germany, where the TüV comes from, and this bike has to conform to stringent regs to be roadworthy.

Remarkable more for its pastel colours than outlandish radical style, this would be right at home round Venice Beach where its gentleness of tone will blend, rather than contrast with its surroundings … but I can't see it in a European city. But maybe that's just me.

European Kit Bike:
Now this, I like. Lots.

I like big front ends. I like spoked wheels. I like stretched tanks. And I'm quite fond of Shotgun pipes.

So what is the kit bike? Everything you need to build this bike except the paint - you need to exercise your imagination somewhere.

It is very much a lifesize model kit but with such attention to detail that you've even got engine internals, and it's a working model: eat your heart out, Airfix!

Based around a RevTech motor of either 88 or 100 cube capacity, this is the ideral starting point if your in any way nervous about your welding skills: assembly is always going to be easier than creation, and while it is a cop-out in many way, it could lead to bigger and better things. It gets my vote because I'd far rather cut my teeth on something that is planned properly and work out whether I was up to working on such a scale before taking a gas axe to a working bike: I've seen too many unfinished project small ads to be comfortable adding my own machine to the list.

And it needn't be the absolute end result anyway. Just as you can build a radical chop from an Airfix Police Electra Glide kit, you can use this as the basis for your own masterwork and just be glad that everything you'll need to get a working bike is going to be there when you start. I'll give you an example: me.

Now I've already mentioned that I like this but I don't love it. It has lot of the right bits, but there are a number of things which, if I was starting with a kit, I'd change before starting - and I'm not sure which way I'd go of the two routes forming in my head. It's got the mudguards to make a millennium bobber, but the forks to lean towards a Hydra Glide and I like both styles.

Going for a dresser,I love the forks, but I'd prefer the historically inaccurate aluminium headlamp nacelle from the 4-speed shovel rather in place of the Hydra-Glide style tins - or I'd strip them of their covers completely for the bobber. I like the bars, but they'd have to be dresser bars in either eventuality. I like the lines of the pipes, but I've never liked visible balance pipes, so would stick something else on - possibly crossover duals to work on the undressed dresser look, or shorty duals for the bobber. I'm not absolutely sure about the tank-top console but there's a wide ranges of alternative available, and I'd have to think seriously about the mudguards and seat for the Hydra Glide; I might even fit early Electra Glide bags to it

For either bike, I would use the existing hubs of the laced wheels and hook them up to seventeen-inch rims and slap a pair of low-profile tyres on them, to radically improve on the handling … well, at least to test the theory I'm formulating based on the experience of the Deuce and the V-Rod.

And then I'd paint it ro resemble a bobber or a half-dressed tourer that's been tucked away in a barn awaiting discovery for the last forty years.

I'd defy anyone to pick it out as being a kit bike, or to see it as the easy option. It would be my bike, with my input and aspiration but a whole lot easier than starting from scratch. It wouldn't win any shows, because I wouldn't enter it into any: I'd ride it. And if it wasn't exactly what I wanted, I would be far better equipped to get it right next time - and be far more confident in taking it down and rebuilding it.

In a world where there are many pro builders interpreting the instructions of an affluent client base, I don't see the kit bike as the easy option. I'm not knocking pro builders, because they are providing a valuable service and are pushing the boundaries of what is achievable in a way that most of will never has the time, knowledge or resource to do, but if I had the time, I'd choose a spanner over a chequebook as the tool of choice for motorcycle assembly, and the Kit Bike is a welcome alternative.