Binky’s Bike Barn: One amazing space

H.O.G. members, Andre and Noelene, have built themselves a Harley-themed private museum. They call it Binky’s Bike Barn. We call it extraordinary. Just don’t call it a man cave…

Andre has been riding bikes since he was 10. Now in his 60s, he’s racked up 56 years in the saddle. He and his wife Noelene have raised three sons, run two nurseries and share their passion for motorcycles with four granddaughters and a grandson.

“They’re fifth-generation bikers,” he says proudly. “My grandfather rode, my dad rode, Noelene’s dad rode. And now our grandkids are into it too.”

Harley^®motorcycles have long held a special place in their garage, but it wasn’t until 2010, after the H.O.G.^™ National Rally at Mount Buller, that things really escalated. “I said to Noelene, let’s do it properly. I’ll buy one, you buy one.” And they’ve been collecting ever since.

As the collection grew, so did the need for a dedicated space; somewhere secure, weatherproof and worthy of the bikes inside. Andre pegged out a footprint, fired up the earthmoving gear with his sons and got to work. The result became known as Binky’s Bike Barn – a nod to Noelene’s nickname and a deliberate pushback against the usual “man cave” trope.

“It’s certainly not a man cave,” Andre says. “If that word’s dropped in her presence, she says, ‘This is a person cave.’”

Noelene’s influence is everywhere, from the collected signage and travel souvenirs to the thoughtful layout and flow. It’s a shared space in every sense, layered with meaning, memories and meticulous execution.

From the outside, the Barn is all weathered tin and plate steel. Inside, it opens into a sprawling, industrial-styled space packed with Harley-Davidson^® motorcycles, memorabilia, vintage fixtures and handcrafted details. There’s even a Kenworth truck cab mounted into the wall, forming a fully functioning entrance.

“Essentially the whole of that bike room I built,” Andre says. The walls are double brick, layered with steel, and the entire space is insulated with 250mm of material across three layers.

“That’s why that room doesn’t change temperature,” Andre says. “But it’s all air-conditioned. If you want to be comfy when it’s stinking hot, it’s the coolest part of the house.”

The floor tells its own story. Using 200 reclaimed railway sleepers, Andre milled and planed each piece himself, then filled the old bolt holes and timber knots with clear epoxy resin. Die-cast Harley models, bulldozers and grandkid keepsakes are preserved in the floor, like relics beneath glass. To allow for movement, he finished the floor with flexible black silicone, hand-pumping the caulking line by line.

“I was on my hands and knees for a quarter of a kilometre,” he laughs.

There’s a vintage water tank plumbed into a working sink, a Mack truck bulldog bonnet ornament that doubles as a flick mixer and cupboard handles made from Harley-Davidson belt buckles and brand-new 1960 Panhead tank badges. There’s also a folding TV hidden in the ceiling, a dehumidifier for the timber and even a handcrafted lamp built from a horse-drawn plough and an old railway lantern.

One of the most striking features of the Bike Barn is the fully rebuilt Kenworth truck cab, mounted into one wall like a movie prop. Complete with wheels and working lights, it serves as the physical threshold between the barn and the rest of the property.

“I did my apprenticeship with Kenworth trucks when I was brand new out of school,” says Andre. “I’ve always had a passion for the bigger rigs.”

The wreck was stripped, restored and reimagined as a walk-through staircase. “I gutted all the engine bay and the sleeper cab so you walk down through the centre of it,” he says. “I dusted it off and gave it a new coat of paint because Noelene likes blue. But I left all the scars from millions of kilometres on it. There’s even a crack windscreen.”

But the real magic is in how you get into the Kenworth. Hidden behind what looks like standard garage shelving is a concealed access system that you’d see in a spy film. Let’s just say it involves a coded lock and a large rusty spanner that triggers the internal bolts which allows an otherwise standard piece of workshop furniture to split in half and hinge open. “It’s all Addams Family kind of stuff,” Andre says.

Seven Harley-Davidson models sit under the barn’s industrial lights, each one tied to a moment in Andre and Noelene’s life. Pride of place goes to a 2009 blue Springer^™ Softail^®, imported from Canada with barely 6,000 kilometres on the clock. Nearby is the first-edition 2013 CVO^™ Breakout^® – red frame, lace-fabric paint, pure hot-rod attitude. Andre’s long-distance favourite, the Enthusiast-edition Ultra Limited tourer, mirrors the two guitars on the wall with its ’70s rock-and-roll livery, right down to the vinyl-record tank badge.

Noelene’s bike often wears a clip-on sidecar so three grandkids can pile in, seat-belted and helmeted, for evening runs to see Christmas lights.

“We end up being more of a circus act than the lights themselves,” Andre laughs. And while the bikes tell one story, the space around them tells another. Between the hand-milled timber, the welded steel and the layers of family history set into the floor and overhead beams, there’s nothing standard about Binky’s Bike Barn. Its scale, craftsmanship and imagination are enviable. And the execution, uncompromising.