Karl Kakneset was born in 1898 but didn't become a motorcyclist until fairly late in life. He was a tenant farmer until, in 1936, he finally bought his little farm.

In 1968, Karl asked at the revenue office whether he needed to declare the old bike as an asset. Luckily, a motorcycle friend only intrerested in Triumphs were handling the declaration and was invited on a visit. He asked, Per Erik, who was already seeking out old bikes from all over Norway, to come along. Later he visited Karl, gave him rides in his car and listened to stories of the old days since his work was close by. The bike was not for sale, and the old man still regarded the Indian as his pride and joy, so much so that when a curator from the social service called at Christmas 1984, he found he had to help Karl with the rest of manhandling it from the shed and into to his kitchen! He had already spent two days hauling it through the deep snow. Sadly, it was only a few days later that Karl suffered a fall and spent two days lying in the snow before being found. He had been a strong man, but this proved too much for his constitution and he died in hospital at the age of 86. Karl's nephew knew of Per Erik's friendship with the old man, as well as his enthusiasm for motorcycles and, therefore, offered him to buy the Indian.

By the 1930s, American motorcycles had grown big and heavy and, in truth, the Scout was not the Scout of old but a redesigned (and cheapened) 750 Scout engine in the bigger Chief frame. With a foot clutch and left-hand twist grip to cope with, I was a little apprehensive about my first ride but, fortunately, Norway is thinly populated and there isn't much traffic outside urban areas.

The heavy flywheels generally looked after things so that it didn't prove much of a problem, though I never got to be slick with it. Gear changes were no problem, though a bit slow. Roll both grips away, press the clutch pedal, haul on the gear lever with the right hand, then push the clutch pedal back and roll the grips towards you.

Unusually for a hand-change bike, the throttle hand (left hand) is in control throughout; the right-hand grip only controls the ignition advance.

In 1911, Indians were some of the most advanced and fastest bikes around, as they proved by humiliating the British industry with a 1-2-3 in the Isle of Man TT. By 1937 they were big and heavy bikes, typical of late American practice and that is clearly visible in this Standard Scout, its engine looking a little lost in the frame designed for the 1000cc Chief. The buyers and dealers of the time thought so, too, and it never achieved the reputation of the earlier 101 Scout of circa 1928. All the same, the Standard Scout quite impressed me, denting my patriotic bias for British machines.

I look forward to the day when I can sample one of those nimble 101s, or maybe a big Indian Chief.