Pan Head Motorcycles Buyer Guide: Key Features You Must Check Now

How I Got Hooked On Pan Head Bikes

So last year my buddy Dave rolls up on this rumbling beast with shiny chrome sticking out everywhere, sounded like thunder in a coffee can. I’m like “What the heck is THAT thing?” He grins and says “Pan head, brother – 1948!” Right then I knew I needed one of these vintage monsters for Sunday rides.

My First Pan Head Mistake

Found this ’65 on marketplace looking sweet in photos. Drove three hours to see it and holy smokes – oil was dripping like a leaky faucet under the engine. Seller kept saying “They all do that!” Nah man, walked away fast. Learned quick: never trust shiny pictures without seeing it cough smoke in person.

What I Actually Check Now

After kicking tires on fifteen junkers and two decent bikes, here’s my go-to checklist:

• Oil leaks – Crawled under every bike since that ’65 disaster. Wipe the bottom with paper towel – if it comes back black and wet, run away
• Electrical Frankenstein stuff – Opened up so many hacked-up wiring jobs. Look for masking tape splices or melted wires near the battery
• Transmission clunks – Made the seller shift through all gears while I crouched next to it listening for death rattles
• Rust in the oil tank – Brought a flashlight to peer inside. Saw glittery metallic soup? Hard pass

The Winning Bike Hunt

Finally found my ’63 at some old dude’s barn. Spent two hours poking at it:

1. Made him cold-start it three times (struggled but fired up)
2. Rode it around the field feeling for wobbles (front end shimmied a bit)
3. Haggled over breakfast at the diner while grease still stained my fingers

Paid cash when he threw in the original service manual smelling like gasoline and cigarettes. Best deal ever!

What I Wish I Knew Earlier

Parts hunting hurts more than the bike price. Spent months chasing missing chrome bits that cost more than my car payment. And that “easy restoration project” dream? Pure fantasy – my garage looked like a motorcycle graveyard for six months straight. But man, when that pan head finally rumbled to life… worth every busted knuckle and greasy shirt.