They say perfect is the enemy of the rideable. Such was the axiom of the ‘86 Sportster known affectionately as ‘The Roach.’ She was the kind of bike you needed when the enemy was in the wire; when they had breached the perimeter; when they were a fixed bayonet away from the command and control hootch. The Roach liked these times the best. Superficially patinated with the neglect of three decades, her rusted tins belied her pristine guts. Oversized forged pistons, clearances cases, and back-cut tranny gave her both the lungs and legs of the finest thoroughbred. Though originally crafted for the asphalt, the Roach had become quite adept doing dirt. 19″ rims, shod with virtually unobtainable Maxxis DTR1s, let her easily blur the line between civilized and savage. And in these ‘endest’ of days, the blurring of lines is what it is all about.