March 2004
Motorcycle Mogul gets new pursuit revved up
by BARRY SHLACHTLER / Star Telegram
March 2004 - Although he doesn’t need the money, Bill Rucker is again building very personalized, very pricey toys for grown-ups.
Haltom City—Bill Rucker is back and he is having fun.
The 47 year old self-made millionaire has bought himself a brand new Hummer, is 25 pounds closer to his 260-pound goal and gives scuba diving lessons at Texas Wesleyan University. And though he says he need not work another day in his life (“I could lie on a beach and drink mai tais all day long if I wanted”), he has gone back to crafting custom motorcycles with prices ranging up to $60,000.00.
He calls his new venture Rucker Performance, which he officially opened for business last Tuesday, the day his non-compete agreement expired with his former company, American IronHorse Motorcycles.
Neither will provide precise details of his departure, which left the one time auto mechanic from Haltom City with “mid-seven figures.” The company’s announcement at the time was bereft of the usual euphemisms, say, leaving “to pursue other interests” or “to spend more time with his family.”
In an airy office overlooking Belknap Street in what was originally the French AMC dealership, then Don Davis Jeep. Rucker gave a roundabout explanation for his farewell to American IronHorse, which he took from five employees to a company of nearly 400.
There was the death of his father, with whom he had been very close.
And the goateed and flat-topped entrepreneur said, “I don’t have the background to deal with Wall Street. I’m a high school graduate.”
The son of a Bell Helicopter sheet metal worker, Rucker had begun working as an automotive machinist after classes in the vocational educational program at L. D. Bell High School in Hurst. Later, he became a mechanic at Northeast Lincoln Mercury, then at Arendale Ford, before striking out his own at 21 with his own filling station and garage on East Belknap in Haltom City.
Then he started Rucker Speed Shop, which specialized in repairing and customizing hot rods. That led to transmission work, then engine rebuilding. He discovered demand for rebuilt diesel engines and launched Tracom in 1986, his first shipment running $75,000 and headed for Australia.
A number of Southeast Asian nations were amid a building boom. Developers there realized costs could be cut by attaching backup power generation units to relatively cheap, rebuilt diesel engines.
As a result, sales climbed from $500,000 to $5 million between 1989 and 1995, he said.
About then, Rucker and a partner, Tim Edmondson, launched IronHorse, not knowing that Rucker’s main business would soon be heading toward Chapter 11 bankruptcy, a victim of the sharp economic downturn in Thailand and other Asian countries. He was left with $1.5 million in unpaid invoices.
Bankruptcy protection allowed him to pay back his vendors, then he finally settled with his lenders, he said.
Meanwhile, American IronHorse took on more investors, with Rucker maintaining majority ownership until he left in a 2003.
His latest venture is unburdened by co-investors and banks because his wife Laura, he says, has let him dip into his own pockets for startup funds. “I think it will take $1 million to get it off the ground.”
The rest of his IronHorse cash-out has gone into conservative stocks and bonds, he said.
As for his new business, “it’s not a gamble,” he asserts, noting the upsurge in baby boomers interest in high-end motorcycles and hot rods
Give Rucker’s crew 60 to 90 days, and put 10 percent down, and they’ll produce you a custom motorcycle of the sort seen on such cult reality programs as Orange County Choppers and Monster Garage, he said.
His $40,000 to $50,000 bikes will not compete with American IronHorse’s line, he insists. For one thing, his cost $15,000 more.
And all of his will be “one of a kind”, built to the buyer’s wildest, exact specifications.
“If you can sketch it on a piece of paper, we can have it built,” Rucker said. (By comparison, IronHorse has base models but it will also assemble and pan “one off” bikes to the buyer’s demands.)
Two mechanics, whom he calls “technicians” have relocated from Wisconsin, Rucker said. In all, 20 people will be employed, including sheet-metal fabrication specialists, graphic designers, paint and body guys and mechanical assemblers.
Once the business is up and running, he hopes to turn out 500 bikes a year.
By comparison, IronHorse says it’s “on track” to produce 3,000 units in 2004, up from 2,500 from last year.
Still, the two local companies and others like Victory and Big Dog combined contribute a tiny share of the 561,000 street motorcycles sold in the U.S. market, said Rick Campbell, editor and publisher of Motorcycle Industry magazine.
“It’s a pittance, but by the same token, when you sell bikes for $25,000 or more, that can add up,” Campbell said.
“The reality is that there is always a market for something new and different. The RUB’s (rich, urban bikers) and those cable channel motorcycle shows have created a wave of new interest.
“Is it a good niche? For someone who knows what he’s doing and produces quality bikes in an appropriate price range, anything can be sold,” he said.
As for Rucker, “He probably has the equivalent reputation to the guys who started Big Dog.”
The economic recovery augurs well for this market. But, he added, “The highest risk in my opinion is the job market, because these units are predominantly sold to doctors, lawyers and executives- the people Rucker has to appeal to.”
Bob Kay, an IronHorse spokesman, said the company wishes Rucker well in his new venture.
“We share a great respect for Bill, as co-founder and driving force behind the start-up of American IronHorse,” Kay said in an email to the Star-Telegram.
The motorcycles and the hot rods will be built, or rebuilt, in what was part of a 1946 Jeep garage. Cleaning it out recently, Rucker’s employees found a large framed picture of the mother of Fess Parker, the TV show actor who portrayed Davy Crockett in the old Disney series and a Fort Worth native, buying a Nash from French AMC in the early 1950’s, when Parker made an appearance in Texas after gaining fame.
Walking past employees and workmen putting last minute touches on the building, Rucker said he is “confident that the venture will succeed.”
“It’s a tried and true formula,” he said of the build-to-order wheels. “I’ve done it once, and I’ll have some more fun.”
November 8, 2006 11:15 AM | send page | Press Releases