If you weren’t there, you missed it, but it only lasted minutes. Still, five minutes with the thrilling Las Vegas showgirl “Cammy Jugs,” dressed in her signature yellow, vanquished any pain from the slog to Sin City.
Twirling on Mecum’s signature roundabout stage under hot lights, the 1915 Cyclone roadster tucked hundred-thousand dollar bills under her garter until eager fans popped the million dollar cork for the first time ever in the full public scrutiny of an auction.
Gentleman callers had been rumored to privately slip seven-figure hush money to the handlers of such rare beauties as Rollie Free’s “bathing suit” Vincent and Crocker serial #1, but asking these men — always men — directly about their spending habits is quite rude, so their stories float through the motorcycle scene like smoke from a Cuban cigar.
The dazzling highlights of any Vegas show capture all the attention, naturally, and there was plenty of pizazz over the five days of Mecum’s 34th annual motorcycle auction (counting the now-absorbed MidAmerica Auctions history as the start of it all). The stats for this year: with $27.2 Million in gross sales, an 87% sell-through rate, and around 2,000 motorcycles sold, Mecum’s 2025 sale was the largest motorcycle auction in history, period. Nobody else comes close, and Dana Mecum holds the leash on the diamond-studded collar of the 800lb gorilla of the collector bike world.
When legends lose their luster
Gorillas, while basically vegetarian, are not always kind. For many old-time motorcycle enthusiasts and collectors, especially fans of British iron, the mighty fist of King Kong casually smashed their dreams of accrued value over time, and vanquished any justification to long-suffering wives (again, collectors are mostly men) that their oxidizing two-wheelers and associated spares were a good investment, or even a retirement account. We have definitively entered a new age of motorcycle collecting, which actually mirrors the American economy — the blue chips (ultra-rare V-twins and four-cylinders) are holding or increasing their financial stature, while the proletariat — the ordinary mass-production models — have lost half or more of their value over the past 5 years.
That’s a simplification, because there are caveats and asterisks all over the market, making definitive values for any make difficult and any individual machine subject to a lengthy “well it depends” valuation. Exhibit A: Crockers. While three of these magnificent V-twins were on sale in Vegas this year, only one actually sold, but for a record auction price of $880,000. The other two? I can’t comment directly, but Crockers as a whole have a major image problem, which is why no Crocker had sold at auction for six years prior to Saturday, February 1, 2025, despite many attempts. This had nothing to do with too-high reserves or sky-high owner expectations, as the $880k sale makes clear. The problem is reputation and provenance — or its lack. Let’s just state the facts: replica Crocker engines, frames, and everything else have been available on the open market for decades, with several businesses that manufacture repops advertising in magazines like this one. Which is fine and necessary for any collector bike — we need parts. But, you can count on one hand the number of Crockers with replica engines (and the engine carries the serial number, much like pre-1970 Harley-Davidsons) that have been plainly labeled as replicas, or continuations, or homages, etc. And the folks authenticating Crockers tend to be the same folks selling them — a simple conflict of interest. That’s the poop in the pool, and the reason nobody’s swimming.
Exhibit B: Vincents. The canary in the coal mine for the motorcycle market as a whole has always been post-war Vincent V-twins. With around 13,000 Vincents built from 1946 to 1955, they are not particularly rare, but they do have a tremendous reputation as “must-have” bikes, especially with well-heeled new collectors. As someone deep into vintage motorcycles since the 1980s, I’ve watched four major swings in Vincent prices, with their value dropping by half or more in a short period in sync with changes in the global economy. We’re at the bottom of the sine curve now, and have been for a while; five years ago a very good Black Shadow could reliably bring $180k, and now, though there are exceptions, they struggle to reach $80k, and Rapides hover closer to $45k. But you probably know all that.
What Mecum’s 2025 auction demonstrated was a downward trend for mass-production British motorcycles: BSAs, Triumphs, Nortons, Ariels, etc. In general, these are following the same trend as Vincents, with a 50%-plus drop in value over the past 10 years. The exceptions are big V-twins from Brough Superior or Zenith, which fall into the blue chip category for their rarity, competition history, and the fact that they’ve always been expensive compared to a Triumph twin. The stab in the heart for me were the dismal results for Paul Adams’ collection of Nortons and Velocettes, many of which were featured in magazines like Classic Bike from the mid-1980s onward as prime examples of their breed, restored with the utmost attention to detail. Perhaps it was because they were at the end of the last day of the sale, but even his outstanding DOHC 1952 Norton Daytona Manx failed to break $15k, and you’d be hard pressed to find a better example on the planet. His one-of-one factory-built and perfectly restored 1969 Velocette Thruxton Scrambler sold for an appallingly low $3,300 — as Batty said in Blade Runner, “Time…to die.”
The fast, the rare, the ridiculous
But but but, there were plenty of bright spots in the auction, especially for fans and owners of 1970s motocrossers, 1970s/80s Japanese sportbikes, which have seen astronomical growth in value over the past five years. No less than 43 Kawasaki two-stroke triples crossed the auction block this year, fetching between $5.5k to a whopping $49.5k, giving an average price of $20.5k and contributing $885k to the auction total. Exactly the same number of Kawasaki Z-series DOHC fours were sold, with the top seller at $49k, an average price of $20.5k, and a contribution to the kitty of $865k. Imagine that.
On the dirty side of things, the once-valueless category of motocross/enduro has been flinging mud in the eyes of road bikes the past few years. Bultaco off-roaders were particularly strong this year, with 27 sold at a combined $307k, with an average price of $11.3k and a high water mark of $29k for a restored 1975 360cc Model 136. A Bultaco TSS road racer cleared $40,000. Not to be outdone, Jimmy Weinert’s factory 1978 Kawasaki KX380 SR fetched $47.3k, but all other green MXers went for under $5k; provenance counts, finally. As a sidebar, all of the high-dollar dirt bikes were, ironically, lavishly restored, and in general this year, shiny bikes outsold original-paint machines, unless they were blue chips.
And by blue chips, I mean American four-cylinder bikes (Indian, Henderson, Ace, etc.), the rarest British and American V-twins (Cyclones, OHV Brough Superiors, 1911 Harley-Davidsons), the Ducati “green frame” 750SS, and occasional super-rare oddballs, which this year included a unique 1915 Williams with a 3-cylinder radial motor in the rear wheel ($170.5k). It’s a small list: these machines are in a class by themselves, and are holding their value against general market trends, with increasing scrutiny paid to provenance. That’s one reason why the Urban Hirsch collection of 108 motorcycles sold so well; he was a trusted player and had been collecting interesting motorcycles since the 1960s. Trust is everything when you’re spending six or seven figures on a motorcycle, or anything else.
Japanese sportbikes of the 1970s−80s continue to gain strength, especially if they were illegal in the U.S. when new. A pair of Suzuki RG500 Gammas went for $49.5k and $36.3k, so apparently we miss two-strokes — see the H1/H2 madness noted above. The exception is the Honda VFR750R RC30, which was always collectible; the three on offer sold for between $27.5k and $51.7k, confirming condition counts and their status as apex sportbikes. Strangely, actual racing motorcycles sold far more modestly, or didn’t sell at all, as with Jim Odom’s 1967 Honda Daytona CR450 that set a 134mph lap record, and is one of two examples in existence, the other being in the Honda Museum itself. But it was consigned with what most experts would say was a high reserve. There was a time when anything CR was a guaranteed sell, but there are few production road racers that sell well today; the Yamaha TZ/TA, Kawasaki H1R, Triumph GP, and Manx Norton that might have fetched $25k or $30k in the past now struggles to reach $15k… so it’s a great time to buy a race bike. The only road racing-type motorcycles to sell well had important names attached: a street legal version of a BSA 3-cylinder, built by Rob North, of the type that swept the Daytona 200 in 1971 ($46.2) and Peter Williams’ very special 1971 Norton Commando-based road racer of the type on which he took third place in the 1971 Isle of Man Production TT ($49.5k).
Bevel-drive Ducati twins were strong this year, with two “green frame” 750SS models on offer, one fetching a whopping $198k, the other, a lightly oxidized but very genuine machine with its lead crankcase seals intact, sold for $126.5k. A friend was interested in that barn-find SS, and I suggested he do his homework before bidding — he found the same engine and frame numbers already registered on an Australian bike (with no provenance). The Mecum machine was clearly untouched and factory original, and I happened to know the former owner (“Slow Joe” Gardella), who was no faker of patina. Somebody’s a fakey though, eh mate? As with Crockers and Vincent Black Lightnings, the 1974 Ducati 750SS has a miraculous 200% survival rate, so caveat emptor. In other news, three “ordinary” 1976 900SS models sold between $22k and $42.9k, while Giro-eligible 1950s Ducati 175cc singles fetched $17−18k.
No less than eight Bimotas tempted buyers this year; in my opinion they are under-valued, given their hand-built chassis and reputation for industry-leading handling and performance. Most of the Vegas bikes sold in the low-$20k range, although a ’94 YB9 Bellaria was stolen for $3,300 — the rest were a mix of Ducati, Kawasaki, and Honda-powered machines, and included one Tesi with hub-center steering. The outlier was Bimota’s first street bike, a Suzuki GS1100-powered 1977 SB2 ($41.8k), identical to the featured machine in my “Silver Shotgun” exhibit at the Petersen Museum in 2020. I dearly wanted that bike, and snuck down to the “Bid Goes On” corral for a look-see after finishing my stint on Mecum’s live TV commentary on their YouTube channel. The SB2 hadn’t sold, and I knew its reserve (ah, the privileges of insider information!), which was above my pay grade, but I had no qualms about beating up a hopefully dejected owner.
I was too late — the Barber Museum had been and done. But one great thing about the Mecum auctions — unlike at a museum, nobody yells if you sit on a bike, so I straddled my SB2 dream machine, surely one of the sexiest motorcycles ever built. And equally surely, one of the most uncomfortable: the riding position is classic 1970s “standard Italian ape”, with short rearsets and a long reach to the clip-ons, just like a bevel-drive Ducati SS. But the seat: or rather, the space between that shapely fits-your-elbows-and-knees fuel tank and the hump of the saddle-cum-turn signal Flash Gordon grooviness. I am slim, but slotting into that padded suede microgap made me wonder who could actually ride a Bimota SB2: my acute “private” discomfort shouted no no no it ain’t me, babe. That’s dream’s punctured, but then again, it’s $42k I don’t need to spend.
As always, Mecum’s annual Las Vegas auction remains the best parade of exotic beauties in the world. Be prepared to empty your wallet for something you didn’t know you needed, and enjoy the largest convention of old moto gearheads in the country. And I do mean old; the crowd gets grayer every year, despite the influx of a few youngsters like me… and I’m 62. That begs questions about the future of the collector motorcycle scene that supersede the “what’s hot and what’s not” discussion, but thus far the dispersal of big estates hasn’t flooded the market, actually having the opposite effect, stimulating interest as “known” collections come available. Bottom line — the price of entry for the vast majority of motorcycles is approaching the lunch-money zone, so it’s a great time to buy a motorcycle. MC
