1958 CZ Cezeta 501 :: By Austin Paintworks

Matt Musial and Bill Twitchel own and operate Austin Paintworks in Austin, Texas. When they first sent me photos of this Czech made scooter called a Cezeta I was completely dumbfounded. About ten seconds later – I wanted one.

“It was a common joke amongst Cezeta riders that the exposed front tank with built-in headlight formed an explosive warhead and detonator for the torpedo, though in practice the Cezetas proved no more likely to catch fire than any other motor scooter, even in serious collisions.”
– wikipedia

A true labor of love, the restoration of this Cezeta took two months with around 350 man hours put into it.

Bill did extensive body work on the Cezeta. Tons of nooks and crannies to deal with. But the construction was solid, or how Matt put it, “Built like a brick shit house.” The trailer came to them afterwards, really beat up and it required extensive rust removal. With the trailer the it approaches ten feet in length. Even when carrying two, the Cezeta can do 45 mph with ease. Matt says the scooter is so bizarre-looking that he actually worries about people keeping their eyes on the road when he cruises by them on the road.

“The Cezeta looks like something Judy Jetson would drive up on. If it didn’t have wheels it looks like it could fly.”
– matt musial

+ Source: Austin Paintworks

Here For Your Soul -The Devil’s Own Tow Truck

Imagine you’re the Devil. Keeping all those badasses in line that have descended through the gates of hell is hard work. Now imagine how annoying it would be when occasionally one of them breaks out of purgatory and returns to walk among the living? Now that’s just plain bad for business. You’re the original sinner, right? Something has to be done. People need to know who’s the boss…

What’s needed here is a mercenary who can go and catch those errant souls and return them for an eternity of lockdown. What would he drive? Only the baddest, toughest tow truck known to man, woman or beast. A vehicle that would make Chuck Norris quake as it pulls up.

Which is exactly what I found in Finland last summer. Whilst driving back  to the UK in a Mk1 Cortina I’d bought, I stopped in for some Friday night cruising in downtown Helsinki. There I stood wide-eyed, while the amazing atmosphere of a couple of hundred like-minded gearheads was shattered as this Chevy-cabbed creation rolled into view.

I say shattered because that’s exactly what it did. There are strict laws in Finland when it comes to modifying cars, but older commercial vehicles? Well it’s almost a free rein when it comes to those, which is why you may have noticed the alloy radiator dominating the front end view of the six-wheeler. Peering inside, I catch sight of the AutoMeter gauges as the waft of methanol lingered in the slow summer evening air.

Glancing up at the row of battered and dusty sunglasses gave me the idea that this would be the perfect vehicle for collecting souls – as though they’d been left there as trophies.

I managed to convince the owner it would be a good idea to meet up over the weekend so I could take a closer look. Amazingly, the truck has been finished for nearly three years and he’s never let anybody shoot it before. I’m not sure quite what swung it for me, but I’m sure glad he agreed. The cab had sat around for ten or fifteen years – hence the weathered look – and those four rear wheels are full-size lorry items. Just check out the clearance on the front pair! The virtually non-existent rear suspension means rubbing isn’t an issue.

There are old oil cans and a box of bits on the back, but what’s obvious is that none of this is contrived. Far from it – this is the real deal. The owner has been been and done it, raced it and blown it up. This is how he’s lived his life for a long time and there’s no reason to change now because somebody came along and gave it a label.

There’s only one area I’m not allowed to show you and that’s under the bonnet. Normally this would mean a no-go for me and I wouldn’t have pursued a shoot, but really? Look at this thing. How could I walk away? The owner waited until I didn’t have a camera anywhere near me and briefly lifted the bonnet. I can assure you this thing is the real deal. A blown methanol big block? Rumours have it over 1000hp is on tap.

So instead of showing you the engine, as our driver went to leave I shot a short video.

There are a couple of things to look and listen for: first up is the pair of almost unnoticeable fire bursts that leave the exhausts just after start up. Then there’s the engine tone of course, then the haunting noise of the towing hook clanking on the metal spar after he guns the engine. Make sure you listen until the end too – that last blast of acceleration is over a half mile away by the time it echoes back. Badass? 100%. Please excuse the shaky camera action, I had the wrong lens on for filming and this was a case of take what you’re given… Now are you a believer?

Because there are souls out there that need collecting. Adios.

Bryn Musselwhite

MATTEUCCI GARAGE OCEAN WAVE

Marco Matteucci is a graphic designer, photographer and image retoucher. Staring at beautiful things for hours on end and working out how to make them even more beautiful is his gig, the world of bikes is all the better for it as he has turned his attention to the custom scene.
Matteucci Garage has produced two stunning bikes thus far, one of which featured on the Bike Shed last year so we are aware of his attention to the aesthetic. The other is the rather well executed, matt-black Moto Guzzi V35 Imola, ‘Black Boot’. I hope that the bikes are as good in the flesh without the veil of the retoucher’s stylus. His latest creation, Ocean Wave, looks to be cellulite free, with lovely lines and a tidy rear-end.

The base is a 1983 Yamaha XJ550, not exactly supermodel material so Marco set to work with the strip-down before the usual trimming of tabs, subframe shortening and working out how to make ugly bits and electrics disappear. The handmade tail section houses the battery, leaving the underseat triangle clear. Rear indicators are neatly mounted to the subframe tube ends, with a thin LED stop light in the centre. A slender number plate holder arcs out from the underside for when legality overrules style.
On top double density foam has been covered with top grade leather before being hand burnished and aged. The only part of the bike that doesn’t look box-fresh. Nice touch.

The four cylinder motor breathes through stock Mikunis and the now ubiquitous cone filters. A chromed and highly polished 4-into-1 exhaust looks the part, keeps the Carabinieri happy and lets people know Marco is not far down the road.
Puny stock forks and a solid brake disc pogo’d their way to the parts bin and were replaced with sexy-looking Marzocchi upsidedowners. In case you’re wondering, the near colour match to the frame is no coincidence. Keeping the front end ‘local’ wasn’t difficult with Brembo providing a 320mm floating disc and 4-pot calliper. A pair of Pirelli Scorpions continue the homegrown theme and are a good blend between classic Cafe Racer rubber and the wish-there-was-a-desert knobblies as fitted to some bikes.

Machined aluminium grips are matched to a modern speedo, a small line of LEDs take care of the dashboard’s simplicity. Clip-ons look right and suggest sporting intentions. The blue-tinted, oval headlight is different from the norm, squinting slightly and keeping the front looking neat.

Marco lives and works on Italy’s East coast and he wanted his efforts to reflect that with the paint job. To resemble a cliff-top ride the “dark titanium” frame contrasts with the matt and gloss blue. The overall look is sure to land Marco with orders for further builds and The Bike Shed with another feature.

MOTORCYCLE PHOTOGRAPHY 101

By Jose Gallina | Jose Gallina Photography

I’m a photographer of many things. I shoot live music, portraits and fashion, but my favorite subjects have wheels—and more specifically, two wheels.

There are many ways to photograph a motorcycle. You can shoot it while riding, racing, or wrenching. Or when it’s just leaning on the kickstand at a show. But most of the motorcycle photography I do is for publications such as Bike EXIF, and the objective is to get a very clean, well lit, and uninterrupted view of the bike and its details.

So I’m going to walk you through the process of getting good, clean shots, without using a studio or expensive ‘pro’ equipment. These are simple guidelines, not rules, and they can be broken from time to time. But they’ll get you started, and help you get ‘that shot.’

A word about gear The camera you shoot with is never the most important thing. You do need the right set up, but it doesn’t really matter whether it’s a $300 eBay bargain or that darling of the pro photographer, the $3,900 Canon EOS 5D Mark III.

Any DSLR with a lens of 50mm or more is a good starting point. In general, it’s easier to blur the background on a DSLR than a compact camera. The most important point is to avoid shooting at a focal length of less than 50mm on a ‘full frame’ DSLR, unless you are deliberately aiming for a distorted wide-angle effect.

There are two reasons for using lenses extending beyond 50mm, like the ones shown above. Firstly, shorter focal lengths distort the dimensions and proportions of the bike, such as making wheels look slightly ‘out of round’ when shot from side-on. Secondly, the longer your focal length, the easier you’ll find it to isolate the subject from the background. (You’ll also get a compressed perspective effect when shooting the bike at ¾ angles, which flatters most bikes.)

I usually shoot with a fairly open aperture, without going so wide that parts of the bike go out of focus. Somewhere around f/4 often works best.

Get your timing right The first thing to figure out is what time of day you’re going to shoot. When shooting outdoors, you’re usually better off shooting when the sun is lower and less harsh—which means very early in the morning, or late in the evening.

At these times the light is more even, and the top of the tank and polished metal parts won’t be too bright. If you must shoot with a high sun, try finding some open shade.

Although we woke up before the sun to shoot Noise Cycles’ 1952 Harley Panhead ‘Sneak Attack’ (above), it took us longer than expected to get to the location. Luckily there was a bridge overhead that gave us perfect open shade.

Background checks When you’re deciding where to position the bike, check out what’s behind and how it works with the lines and colors of the bike. Try to find something that contrasts slightly in color with the bike, which will help your subject stand out.

Avoid things with too many heavy or strange lines, such as a rod iron fence. Be wary of telephone poles and trees, which may appear to be growing out from the bike. I like to use industrial garage doors, brick walls that aren’t too ‘busy,’ or just an open field and clean sky.

Here’s a good example of what not to do. There are lines all over the place, distracting and interfering with the lines of the bike. And the bright orange garage doors detract from the more subdued burnt orange panels painted on the bike.

Let there be light We’ve already touched on the need for even light, but I want to show a trick to boost it a little. Getting light into the right places is especially important in motorcycle photography, because on many bikes the tank tends to throw the top of the motor into shade.

You can get around this by using a big white board to redirect light into areas that need it. Try it—it’s an easy and cheap alternative to pro lighting rigs. In the shot above, I simply propped up a white board with a stick. Looking through the viewfinder, I could see a difference immediately as the light filled in.

All the angles Have a checklist to hand before you start shooting. Get all the basics: Left, Right, Front, Back. Then start going for the details. Shoot the major components: the bars, the motor, the seat, the tank and the pipes. Ask the owner or the builder to point out elements that they want to highlight on the bike. And although close-ups are less affected by the background, stay mindful of what is ‘in shot’ and in focus at all times.

Nowadays, with digital, it’s easy (and cheap) to shoot away. So once you’ve got the basics covered, use the rest of the time to explore the bike. Find the most interesting details, and experiment with unusual angles. In the image above, I’m looking for a viewpoint to capture the tank and bars of the bike.

For this image of the Panhead’s motor, we actually removed the tank in order to show the whole engine.

Low down and dirty The biggest thing that will set your shots apart is your own angle. Most of the shots people upload on to Flickr, Instagram and Facebook are taken from the standing position, using a point-and-shoot camera on its Auto setting, or a smartphone.

This works as a simple record of a bike, but your objective is to make the bike look good. And that means squatting down or sinking to your knees, like I’m doing above. Lower your eyes and camera to the level of the tank or headlight. It’s the one trick that makes any bike look much better.

Back at your desk This is where you really get to refine that shot. Even simple photo editing software will have some tools to perfect what you’ve shot. I use Photoshop and Lightroom: both work great, but Lightroom (below) is all you really need—and costs less than $150.

After loading up the image, check for areas that are too dark to show any detail, and lighten them up. It could be a black leather seat, or the tires, or darker parts of the motor.

Make sure the bike and horizon are level, unless you are deliberately going for a dramatic ‘Dutch angle’ effect. Slightly crooked photos mess with people on a subconscious level: most people won’t know why, but something won’t feel right.

Don’t be tempted to crop the shot too tightly around the bike. Leave ample space, which is especially important if the photos are going into print and will be laid out with text and other photos on a page.

Never stop shooting (and have fun) After you’ve shot your own bike, move on to a friend’s bike, or contact a local builder. Seek out different locations and examine your results. You’ll soon get a feel for what works and what doesn’t. Keep shooting until you like what you’re getting from your camera, and you’ll find yourself enjoying the process.

For me, the best part of shooting new bikes is meeting new people, and spending a few hours talking about (and gawking at) motorcycles. You’ll often get the occasional stranger coming along: In the shot above, Scott Jones of Noise Cycles and a downtown Santa Ana, CA local had a good time chatting about the “Good old days, being wild and young on the back of a motorcycle,” and looking over the bike.

So go out and shoot, and remember, these are guidelines and not hard-and-fast rules. The most important thing is to enjoy your own motorcycle photography.

Head over to Jose Gallina’s website to see more examples of his work.

from BIKEEXIF