The Fastest Indian

The World’s Fastest Indian

The nighttime darkness begins to give ground to the never-ending assault of morning sunshine. Black turns to violet turns to deep morning blue-black. The camera pans around a garage littered with parts hanging from hooks, or leaned into corners. It pauses momentarily on a shelf, aptly labeled with, “offerings to the gods of speed.” The shelf is a collaboration of pistons, piston rings, cylinder, cylinder heads, and other critical engine parts. Consigned to an early grave from the cataclysmic effects of high-speed and hell-fire temperatures endured during their life, they sit witness to what is to become of their future shelf-mates, still sitting on the bench, patiently, expectantly awaiting their turn at 200 miles-per-hour. Dreamy images of an old man speeding down a beach at incredible speeds fill the screen. The camera cuts back, continues to pan around the garage, showing a sleeping elderly man, who rises, stretches, and steps outside to pee on his lemon tree. Birds are singing, a calm breeze stirs the long, unattended grass in the yard. Clouds drift idly by. Suddenly, the roar of a thousand cubic centimeters of un-muffled exhaust shatters the morning repose. There stands Burt Munro, goosing the throttle of his 1920 Indian Twin Scout he bought new in 1920, and has been wrenching on for the past 45 years. The motorcycle roars, sending birds screeching skywards and neighbors thrusting windows open to complain vehemently. The appropriate expletive exchange of words happens as Burt’s nearest neighbor asks him if he realizes what time it is. Of course Burt does. He has been doing this for almost 50 years. Burt has set the world speed record in both Australia and New Zealand, and he dreams of traveling to the world famous Bonneville Salt Flats in Utah. Along the way, Burt’s infectious enthusiasm and love of life, balanced with his dare-do-all devil may care attitude sets the scene for a warm and heart-rendering story of...