I USED to be mad on motorbikes. My first was a Honda C50 step-through moped. OK, so it's not a motorbike, but at the age of 16 that hairdryer gave me my independence and that's 90 per cent of what it's all about.
Over 15 years I progressed to a Yamaha FJ1200, a Japanese workhorse that annoyed my Triumph Bonneville-riding buddies but it got me around London, effortlessly toured Europe a thousand times and had the uncanny ability of being able to identify unsuitable potential mating partners for life.
Some girls hated them, some girls tolerated them and some girls loved them. Emma was somewhere between loved and tolerated. That was enough.
By 1990, there were about as many bikes on the market as there were stocks on the stock exchange, and like stocks you could break them up into sectors, analyse their features, assess them on price, determine value and then make a reasonable buy recommendation based on someone's personal circumstances. And I was an expert.
The Honda ST1100, for instance, was like one of the banks. Big, reliable, will go forever, but has no character and real bikers don't like them. They serve a purpose, they get you there, but beyond the fact that you are out on the road with everyone else, it's not much fun and you can get a lot more excitement riding something else.
Then there's the Kawasaki Z1300 110 per cent of grunt and muscle. This is BHP. At full bore it can plough through a herd of bull elephants. A gladiator's bike. Meaty, but every time they add to it they just cock it up that little bit more. If only they could leave it alone to do what it does best. The Honda CBR900RR Fireblade Fortescue Metals. The first real sport super bike for "man racers". Nothing ever took off this fast. Unprecedented power-to-weight ratio. In the early days it was fast and wild and terribly dangerous. When it first came on the market no one had ever ridden anything beyond the edge of the envelope before. Has been superseded and now looks sedate, but will always be the bike we all wished we'd had.
The BMW K1, also known as the Flying Brick. This is your ever-reliable utility stock. It was one of the first bikes to have ABS, an anti-dive paralever swingarm and a drag coefficient of 0.38, which meant nothing at the time. It was hated by purists. The argument goes that bikes are inherently risky which is why we love them so why try to make them safe? It attracted a whole new class of rider the retiree. These days, when safety is paramount, we appreciate them a whole lot more. It's now an icon.
The Ducati 1098 S. A cafe racer stockbroker's bike. Requires specialist knowledge, like a small resource stock. Bloody expensive for what it is. Sucks gas. Impossible to insure. Impractical, uncomfortable, unserviceable, expensive, red, irresistible, sexy. Life on the edge, never knowing when you'll get knocked off. It's all about a great ride and appreciating the moment rather than planning ahead.
Harley-Davidson Fat Boy like Telstra. Has been around forever but was relaunched in 1993 and saw tremendous early demand. But the world moves on and it wasn't long before advances in technology made them look very clumsy and out of date. They failed to adapt and were left for dead. But a government grant and a new power plant has seen a recent revival helped by the return of the baby boomers looking for a more comfortable ride at a more reasonable price. It still has the grunt and the muscle and hopefully one day they'll do something about the performance.
The Triton it's a bond not a stock. A combination of a Norton frame and a Triumph Bonneville engine. The Queen rides one. Respect. You vacuum-pack these and forklift them into the back of the garage and when you're older you unwrap them and show them to your mates. When you die, they'll bury it with you and drape a Union Jack over you both. It's nothing like the sharemarket. It's got class.
I don't own any bikes at the moment, but Emma's beginning to come around and we're thinking about it.
Frequently Asked Questions about this Article…
What is the main idea of the article that compares a broker to a biker?
The article uses motorbike types as a metaphor for different kinds of investments and companies, showing how you can break markets into sectors, analyse features, assess price and value, and then make a buy recommendation based on an investor's personal circumstances.
Which bikes in the article represent common company types investors should know?
The article likens several bikes to company types: the Honda ST1100 to large, reliable 'bank‑like' stocks; the Kawasaki Z1300 to big, powerful resource names (referred to as BHP); the Honda CBR900RR Fireblade to fast, high‑power names (linked to Fortescue Metals); the BMW K1 to dependable utility stocks; the Ducati 1098S to specialist, high‑maintenance small resource stocks; the Harley‑Davidson Fat Boy to long‑standing telco‑style names (compared to Telstra); and the Triton to a bond‑like, collectible asset.
How does the bike metaphor help everyday investors assess risk and reward?
By comparing bikes to investments, the article highlights trade‑offs: some 'bikes' (stocks) are safe and reliable but dull, while others offer excitement and high returns at greater risk and cost. It encourages matching investments to your risk tolerance and personal circumstances rather than chasing thrills.
What investing lesson does the Ducati 1098S analogy teach about specialist or small resource stocks?
The Ducati 1098S represents specialist or small resource stocks — they can be expensive, impractical, hard to service, and risky, but irresistibly attractive to some investors. The takeaway is these plays require specialist knowledge and suit investors comfortable with higher risk and hands‑on management.
Why does the article compare the BMW K1 to a utility or conservative stock?
The BMW K1 is portrayed as an ever‑reliable 'utility' stock: technologically advanced for its time, initially unloved by purists but later appreciated for safety and consistency — a reminder that conservative, safety‑focused investments can attract steady demand, especially from retirees or risk‑averse investors.
What does the Triton motorcycle example say about collectibles versus the stock market?
The Triton is described more like a bond or collectible than a tradable stock: something to keep carefully, unwrap later and proudly display. The article suggests collectibles have a different purpose and emotional value compared with the sharemarket and can be seen as long‑term, classier holdings.
How does the Harley‑Davidson Fat Boy (compared to Telstra) illustrate the importance of corporate adaptation?
The Fat Boy/Telstra analogy shows a long‑standing product that saw early demand, then fell behind as technology advanced. A later revival — helped in the article by a government grant, a new power plant and returning customers — demonstrates that companies that adapt (or receive support) can recover, but failure to innovate can leave them obsolete.
How should everyday investors use the article's bike‑stock metaphors when building a portfolio?
Use the metaphors to clarify your goals: choose 'bank‑like' reliable stocks if you value stability, or 'gladiator' and 'superbike' names if you accept higher volatility for potential gains. Match investments to your risk tolerance, diversify across types, and pick assets that suit your time horizon and personal circumstances.
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