Harlistas wait for friends on a Havana street
© AFP/File Adalberto Roque

HAVANA (AFP) - Cuban fans, said to include Ernesto Guevarra, a son of the famed revolutionary leader known as "Che", estimate there are about 100 Harleys left in the communist-run state, all of them pre-dating 1960 and most still running.

"It's a struggle keeping them alive; you have to invent parts and invest a lot of time and money," says Sergio Morales, covered in grease but glowing with pride as he looks over a shiny 1949 Harley-Davidson Panhead restored to its former splendor.

Working in a Havana backyard that serves as a clandestine Harley garage he and three other mechanics fine-tune the 750 cc engine, which still has all its original parts.

Cuban Harley-Davidson mechanic Sergio Morales
© AFP/File Adalberto Roque

As they work, the bike's owner chats with a fellow enthusiast who parked his 1947 military-green Knucklehead in the yard. A couple of kickstarts gets the 1,000 cc engine running with the distinctive roar that is music to the ears of Harley-lovers, known here as "Harlistas."

A couple of loud bangs send flames through the exhaust and cause a neighbor's pigs to squeal loudly, a fitting cacophony for the legendary motorcycles often referred to as hogs, a nickname that is also an acronym for Harley Owners Group.

The Knucklehead sports a headlamp that once belonged to a Soviet truck, a 1950 Panhead parked nearby runs with a piston cannibalized from a Moto-Guzzi motorcycle, and a custom three-wheeler was put together from a variety of parts, some home-made and others adapted.

Because the US embargo against the Caribbean island state makes it impossible to import spare parts, Harlistas have learned to make do with what is available, modifying parts from other bikes, cars, trucks and farm machinery, and using plenty of imagination,

A man looks at a group of motorcycles parked at Havana's Colon Cemetery
© AFP/File Adalberto Roque

"Tourists who see our bikes, including members of Harley clubs abroad, sometimes tell us we are heroes," says Morales.

But for the local bikers the true star was the late pioneer of Cuba's own Harley preservation methods, known as "Pepe Milesimo" -- which translates as "Minutia Pepe" -- for his mechanical precision. Every year, a handful of bikers ride to the Havana cemetery where he is buried to pay homage to the Harley hero.

The enthusiasts try their best to preserve their rides' original engine, and speak in awe of those Harleys that have kept running for more than five decades with little more than careful maintenance.

They also point out their passion for the classics is not just a hobby in a country struggling with a severe shortage of both public and private transportation.

"Cuba is a natural laboratory for Harley-Davidson, since the bikes are still running even though no spare parts can be had," said Morales, 56, who sported a grease-stained T-shirt proclaiming, in English: "Gentlemen, start your engines."

Then-Belgian Foreign Minister Louis Michel rides a Harley in Havana
© AFP/File Niurka Barroso

Harlistas tend to be well-mannered middle-aged men with little in common with the bad-boy image of bikers elsewhere, but say they do face some prejudice.

"Many people believe the US-made bike is a symbol of US policy. We try to demonstrate this has nothing to do with politics," said Morales. "We are serious people; it is not like other places where people use their bikes to cruise and get drunk."

Cuba stopped importing Harleys after the 1959 revolution that brought the now-ailing President Fidel Castro to power.

But Harlista legend has it that as many of 100 of the motorcycles, once used by dictator Fulgencio Batista's police force, were buried decades ago and are waiting to be discovered.

"It could be true, we don't know," says Morales, who rides a 1950 Panhead with a sidecar rebuilt over a Soviet chassis to resemble the original three-wheeler.

His wife says she is comfortable behind the handlebars, but bursts out laughing when asked if her husband lets her borrow his bike.

"There is a little machismo here," says Morales. "In our group, we don't like women to ride."

"It's not the tradition in Cuba," he says, grinning.

©AFP