Hollywood on Two Wheels: ​15 Celebrities Who Actually Ride

I’ve never owned a bike or scraped a knee puck in some heroic canyon-carving lean-angle. But the roar of an engine, the smell of hot rubber, and the instant cool factor of a scuffed black T-shirt speak to my soul. Call me a garage-door dreamer—one of those people who follow #bikelife on Instagram while clutching a car key fob—but hey, we all start somewhere, right? So let’s live vicariously through the famous folks who actually twist the grip.

Keanu Reeves — When the Road Meets the Red Carpet

Keanu Reeves didn’t just fall in love with motorcycles; he built a whole company around the crush. In 2011, he and master builder Gard Hollinger launched Arch Motorcycle in Los Angeles, where Reeves still test-rides prototypes and greets customers who order the $100-plus-horsepower V-twins he helped design.

His first serious machine, though, was far humbler: a 1973 Norton Commando 850 he bought in 1987 after filming in Germany—still in his garage, still started regularly “just to hear it breathe,” as he told GQ.

The second jewel is instantly recognizable to action-movie fans: a dark-green Ducati 998 “Matrix Reloaded” Edition—one of fewer than 500 produced—that lives alongside the Norton at Arch HQ.

Reeves speaks of riding the way poets talk about sunrise. In a longform interview at the Arch shop, he described motorcycling as “wind, speed, focus and freedom”—then cheerfully admitted he sometimes ignores studio contracts that forbid him from riding while a film is in production.

Movie sets keep feeding the habit: yellow Nortons in My Own Private Idaho, Yamaha MT-09s in John Wick 3, and, of course, the KRGT-1 customs he sneaks into photo shoots whenever possible.

Unlike many celebrity collections, his bikes aren’t static trophies. Reeves racks up real miles on L.A.’s canyon roads, and friends say he insists on topping up his own fuel and wiping bugs off the headlight himself. Inside the Arch facility, he’ll swap a torque wrench for an espresso, then dive back under a bike to check chain slack. Riders who bump into him at the Bike Shed club in London report the same down-to-earth vibe: chat a while, swap recommendations for back-roads, maybe pose for a quick photo by the Commando.

A typical weekend might find him rolling out at dawn, Commando valves ticking in the cool air, before switching to an Arch KRGT-1 for a run up the Pacific Coast Highway. “Two bikes, one sunrise,” he’s joked—though photos suggest the tally is usually higher. The through-line is simple: every throttle twist still delivers the same rush he felt the first time he let out a clutch in his twenties.

Reeves sums it up best: “You can think, you can feel, you can get out of your head—it’s a great place to be.” For anyone who’s ever daydreamed about open roads and friendly engines, that’s reason enough to keep the visor down and the horizon rolling closer.

Ewan McGregor — A Passport, a Motorcycle, and a Very Long Road

Ewan McGregor’s riding life began the way good stories often do: with a simple idea that ballooned into a globe-spanning odyssey. In 2004, he and his best friend, Charley Boorman, swung legs over a pair of BMW R1150GS Adventures and set off from London toward New York—heading east across Europe, Siberia, and Alaska. The seven-part documentary Long Way Round turned both riders into cult heroes and sparked a sales boom for BMW’s big GS.

Three years later, the duo pointed a newer BMW R1200GS Adventure due south for Long Way Down, tracing a line from Scotland to Cape Town and collecting border stamps, busted spokes, and the occasional elephant roadblock along the way. By 2020, they were pushing boundaries again—this time astride prototype Harley-Davidson LiveWire electrics on a 13,000-mile haul from Ushuaia to Los Angeles in Long Way Up. Same recipe, new technology, equal amounts of mud-splatter and laughter.

Yet the Scottish actor’s heart doesn’t beat solely for big-tank adventure bikes. Back home, he nurses a serious Moto Guzzi habit: a garage full of classics that includes a 1972 V7 Sport, a ’74 Eldorado, and a California Vintage with a sidecar for hauling the kids. Moto Guzzi even tapped him as the face of a factory campaign once they realized one of Hollywood’s most bankable stars had been a lifelong fan all along.

McGregor treats motorcycles less like possessions and more like story devices. One day he’s rebuilding a carburetor on that V7, the next he’s dreaming aloud about riding a pair of vintage Guzzis across Scandinavia—an idea now green-lit for another travel series. Spotting him in the wild is surprisingly easy: think muddy jacket, helmet hair, and a readiness to chat with anyone holding a coffee. Fans recount chance meetings at petrol stations where he recommends hidden back-roads and laughs at Obi-Wan jokes while tightening his own chain.

What endures is the child-like wonder. Whether coaxing an aging Guzzi to life outside his Los Angeles garage or gliding a silent LiveWire past Andean glaciers, McGregor keeps discovering fresh reasons to ride. Each journey becomes another chapter—and judging by that ever-present grin, the book is nowhere near finished.

P!nk — Two-Wheel Therapy, Loud Pipes … and the World’s Coolest “Push Present”

Alecia “P!nk” Moore Hart doesn’t need backup singers when a motorcycle is around. Long before social media was awash with the #bikelife hashtag, she was spotted cruising through West Hollywood on a black and chrome Triumph Bonneville T100. It was December 2008, and the smile beneath her helmet said, “Helmet hair is worth it.” The Bonnie remained on her daily commute for much of the next decade.

Marrying freestyle motocross legend Carey Hart only added fuel to the fire. In 2017, after she joked about having another baby, Hart showed up with an alternative gift: a custom Indian Scout, painted in satin copper, with a handcrafted seat and a high backrest for travel bags. P!nk debuted it on Instagram with the hashtag “#BestPresentEver” and accepted the baby-for-iron trade.

The two are regulars at the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally. There, they've been seen arriving covered in dust, mingling with the crowd, and turning off their engines just to sing "Happy Birthday" to strangers. When they're at home, Scout is often the one chosen for post-show letoffs: a quick ride down the Pacific Coast Highway and the adrenaline rush of the stage evaporates.

It's not all glamor: in August 2020, P!nk showed off a burn on her calf caused by Hart's motorcycle exhaust on social media. She joked that she now had "portable pyrotechnics" to match the show's special effects. Thousands of fans responded with the timeless biker mantra: "Scars tell stories."

What makes their story authentic is its simplicity. Bikes came after platinum records: they're there to cool your head, not to pose in a music video. Whether gliding through LA traffic on the Triumph or rolling the Indian toward Sturgis with Hart in front, P!nk treats the throttle like a feel-good switch: turn, breathe, repeat. And if the journey leaves a trace of escape, well, that's another anecdote to tell when the curtain comes down.

Henry Cavill — One-Brand Devotion on Two Italian Rockets

When the cape comes off, Henry Cavill reaches for a red key fob embossed with a tiny Ducati badge. In 2018, during a Men’s Journal photo shoot in Nevada’s Valley of Fire, he admitted motorcycles make him “ridiculously happy” and revealed his first serious machine: a gloss-black Ducati XDiavel S. The cruiser’s long wheelbase suits his 6-foot-plus frame, and Cavill jokingly calls it “a sofa that does 0–60 quicker than my Aston.” He rides it around London often enough that commuters have posted helmet-cam clips of Superman filtering through traffic like any other rider, just broader across the shoulders.

The Ducatista streak runs deep. Enthusiast sites that track celebrity garages list a second Bologna jewel in his stable: a scarlet Panigale V4 S. Cavill hasn’t paraded it on social media, but paparazzi grabbed a shot of the bright-red superbike leaving his gym in Kensington last spring. Friends say he saves the V4 for solo dawn blasts, preferring the relative civility of the XDiavel when he needs to arrive somewhere without smelling of spent race fuel.

His learning curve has been public and good-humoured. In that Valley of Fire interview, a Multistrada parked nearby caught his eye; Cavill cheerfully mis-labelled it an “enduro” before catching himself mid-sentence and laughing. “Still working on the lingo,” he confessed, “but the passion’s there.” He backs the words with grease under the fingernails: basic chain maintenance, oil checks, even an occasional brake-pad swap in the home garage. Asked why he doesn’t just pay a mechanic, he shrugs: “If you love the machine, you should at least know how to look after it.”

Riding, for Cavill, is part meditation, part workout. Weekdays might see him rumble the XDiavel to the set of The Witcher; weekends often begin before sunrise, visor down, tracing the empty A-roads out of the city. He talks about the clarity that comes with speed—how the mind quiets when every corner demands full attention. “You arrive at breakfast awake, alert, and annoyingly cheerful,” he once told a startled talk-show host.

What sets Cavill apart isn’t garage size but focus: he’s a one-marque loyalist who’d rather master a pair of bikes than scatter attention across ten. Two Ducatis, two attitudes—muscular cruiser for relaxed days, razor-edged V4 for when the hero inside demands a faster soundtrack. For the rest of us still day-dreaming in showroom aisles, it’s reassuring to know even Superman needs a proper warm-up lap before saving the world.

Tom Hardy — Café Racers, Comic-Book Chases and a Permanent Spot at the Bike Shed

London morning, drizzle in the air, and a silver Triumph Thruxton R wedges itself into commuter traffic. The rider’s beard pokes beneath the visor, the eyes look oddly familiar, and then the light changes—off he lopes, rumbling toward the North Circular. That was Tom Hardy in late 2017, fresh from passing his full bike test. Triumph even tweeted the proof: Hardy astride the Thruxton, all polished alloy and clip-ons, captioned “enjoying the finer things in life.” No PR stunt there; the man had just joined the tribe for real.

Hardy’s enthusiasm had been simmering for years. He haunted the Bike Shed Motorcycle Club in Shoreditch long before it became every influencer’s backdrop, chatting over flat whites about carb jets and tank seams. When the club launched its annual custom show, Hardy popped up on opening night like a proud uncle, posing beside hand-built scramblers and slipping quietly out the side door before the red carpet set noticed.

Hollywood quickly cottoned on. For Venom (2018), the producers needed a machine that could jump rooftops and still look believable under a London-bred antihero. Hardy suggested the new Ducati Scrambler 1100, and the bike steals almost as much screen time as its rider, especially in the mid-air scene where Venom separates man from machine, then slings both back together like magnetic Lego. Off-set, Hardy kept sneaking extra laps of the studio lot, grinning each time the V-twin barked to life.

Back home, he’s loyal to British iron. The Thruxton R remains his daily runabout, and rumour places a matte-green Street Scrambler in his garage for wetter days—ideal for hopping curbs and the occasional paparazzi escape. Whenever schedules allow, he rides to Bike Shed breakfasts, helmet tucked under one arm, swapping throttle tips with couriers and first-time learners as if the Oscar nods were someone else’s problem.

What makes Hardy’s bike story stick is its lack of polish. No fleet of chromed trailer queens—just a café racer that gets road grime, a scrambler that earned CGI scars, and a habit of disappearing into the London fog long before anyone can shout, “Selfie?” In interviews, he calls riding “therapy with a soundtrack,” and judging by that ear-to-ear grin exiting every roundabout, the treatment seems to be working.

Christian Bale — From Track-Day Adrenaline to a Promise Made at Home

For years, Christian Bale’s idea of a quiet Saturday involved full leathers, a tinted visor, and the wail of an Italian twin bouncing off pit-lane concrete. Photographers from Portland’s MotoCorsa dealership once captured him lapping their Ducati track day on a bright-red 848 EVO Corse, disappearing into the braking zone with the same total-immersion focus he brings to every film role.

The obsession wasn’t new. Long before The Dark Knight strapped him to a movie-prop Batpod, Bale was slipping away to club circuits and—by his own admission—leaning “a bit too far” into the hobby. Then, in late 2013, a low side during private practice left him with a fractured arm. The timing couldn’t have been worse: news of actor Paul Walker’s fatal car crash hit a week later, and Bale’s wife, stunt professional Sibi Blazic, laid down one non-negotiable rule—no more motorcycles on public roads.

Bale agreed. Interviews since 2014 repeat the same refrain: bikes are now strictly confined to closed courses, and even that itch gets scratched less and less. He jokes that selling the Ducati was harder than parting with some movie props, but domestic peace—and two children who prefer their dad in one piece—won the argument.

Does the fire still smolder? Absolutely. Friends say he keeps a framed photo of the 848 in his garage next to a neatly stored set of race leathers, “just in case.” When filmmakers suggest a bike scene, Bale insists on doing the riding himself, but only under stunt-team supervision. It’s a compromise he can live with: throttle therapy in controlled doses, adrenaline balanced against the promise he made at the kitchen table.

The takeaway is refreshingly human. Christian Bale didn’t lose his taste for speed; he just recalibrated the risk after life delivered a sharp reminder. The helmets are still there, the stories flow easily, yet the man who once chased apexes for fun now finds a different kind of thrill in keeping those tyres cold. As he put it to a reporter last year: “Acting keeps me in character; fatherhood keeps me upright.”

Orlando Bloom — From Elven Steeds to Bavarian Thoroughbreds

If you ever spot a sleek naked bike idling outside a Venice Beach café, peek through the visor: the rider might be Legolas himself. Orlando Bloom has been a BMW Motorrad loyalist for over a decade, and the jewel of his garage is a one-off BMW S 1000 R dubbed “4CYL.” In 2015, Bloom teamed up with custom house Deus Ex Machina and BMW’s own designer Ola Stenegärd: master-builder Michael “Woolie” Woolaway stripped the plastic, hand-fabricated a new sub-frame, added carbon-fibre wheels and an aircraft-style dash, then shot a short film of Bloom tearing through Downtown L.A. at dawn. The bike became an instant internet legend and still headlines Deus blog posts today.

Bloom’s affection for boxers predates the 4CYL. Friends recall him commuting on a fully restored 1964 BMW R60 long before café racers filled Instagram feeds, and he’s been photographed riding modern GS models on Malibu canyon runs. In press junkets, he describes BMW engineering as “bulletproof” and jokes that the shaft-drive is lower-maintenance than his hair.

The actor’s riding isn’t limited to film-set show-and-tell: weekends often start with a sunrise sprint up the Pacific Coast Highway, followed by coffee at Deus’s Venice outpost where patrons double-take at the sight of Bloom chatting torque curves over a flat white. He once told an interviewer that motorcycles are “meditation on fast-forward,” a phrase that neatly bridges his blockbuster life with the calm of coastal asphalt.

No flashy collection tours, no trailer queens—just a handcrafted S 1000 R, a vintage R60, and a habit of sneaking out for solitary rides while Hollywood sleeps. For an A-lister whose day job involves CGI galleons and space stations, Bloom’s two-wheel philosophy is reassuringly down-to-earth: keep it simple, keep it Bavarian, and never underestimate the joy of an early-morning redline.

Michael Fassbender — From Stolen Streetfighter to Alpine Switchbacks

Long before Magneto bent stadiums in X-Men, Michael Fassbender was bending into corners on a Triumph Speed Triple 1050. The aggressive streetfighter was his pride and joy—until one night in 2011, it vanished from a Hackney curb. He later admitted he’d left the steering lock off and felt “partly to blame.” Lesson learned, wallet lightened.

Its replacement was a globe-trotting BMW R1200GS Adventure. Fassbender bought the tall-tank tourer, bolted on aluminium panniers, and—when Prometheus wrapped in 2012—set off on a bucket-list ride: six weeks, roughly 3,000 miles, meandering from the Alps to the Spanish coast with his father, Josef. Dad rode a Triumph Tiger; Michael piloted the GS. Back home, the actor told GQ the trio of panniers taught him minimalist bliss: “I need to live my life out of three boxes. It’s perfect.”

The stolen-bike saga didn’t sour his love for Triumph. Interviews mention he still keeps a soft spot for the brand and hopes to replace the Speed Triple someday. Meanwhile, the BMW does the heavy lifting—literally. Friends have spotted the pair crossing Ireland’s Ring of Kerry in foul weather, Fassbender shrugging off drizzle like a true Kerry schoolboy turned movie star.

Motorcycling, he says, complements acting: total focus, immediate feedback, and no room for vanity under the helmet. Track days are rare now that he races cars at Le Mans, but weekend runs remain non-negotiable therapy. If you pass a silver GS on an alpine pass and the rider’s eyes look Oscar-nominee familiar, don’t stare too long—you’ll miss the next apex.

Norman Reedus — Gasoline, Zombies … and a Passport Full of Road Miles

For most actors, a motorcycle is just a prop. For Norman Reedus, it’s the other way around: the cameras are the accessory, the bikes get top billing. Long before The Walking Dead put him on a crossbow-armed Honda in the zombie apocalypse, Reedus was commuting to auditions on a second-hand Honda CB750 Nighthawk, eventually handing it to Virginia’s Classified Moto for a gnarly scrambler makeover. (That same shop later built the iconic on-screen version for Daryl Dixon.)

His garage today is a mixed bag of well-ridden favorites: a 2008 Harley-Davidson Sportster for city rumble, the vintage CB750 for Sunday shakedowns, and at least one Triumph Scrambler he calls “instant vacation” because it happily hops curbs on the way to coffee. None of them are trailer queens; New Yorkers routinely catch him lane-splitting through SoHo traffic, goggles fogged and grin visible under the chin-bar.

The hobby spun into a second career with AMC’s Ride With Norman Reedus in 2016. Each episode drops the actor and a guest—Peter Fonda, Josh Brolin, even Keanu Reeves—into a new corner of the globe: Florida Keys dive bars, Sicilian hill towns, the high desert around Joshua Tree. Reedus plans the routes himself and insists on doing the wrench checks with the crew, which explains why half the show is grease under his fingernails and the other half is him high-fiving locals who have no clue a TV star just complimented their rat-bike.

Not that everything’s romantic. Years ago, a car sideswiped him in Berlin; titanium now holds one of his eyes in place. He shrugged and bought another helmet. Asked in a GQ profile why he keeps riding, Reedus simply said, “Because the road’s still there.” That road occasionally leads to Triumph’s R&D department or Harley’s archives—both brands tap him for feedback—but more often it’s a spontaneous blast up the Hudson Valley with zero entourage.

Reedus’ mantra is as straightforward as his throttle hand: ride far, meet people, tell stories. Whether he’s guiding a guest across a Louisiana swamp at sunrise or tinkering with carb jets in the back of a Brooklyn studio, the vibe stays the same—bikes first, fame a distant second. It’s the rare case where Hollywood follows the rider, not the other way around.

Marie Avgeropoulos — From Thunder Bay Dirt Tracks to Hollywood Harley Cruises

Marie Avgeropoulos grew up a self-described “tomboy” on the edge of Thunder Bay, Ontario. Country gravel roads and acres of forest meant one thing to a teenager with an adventurous streak: dirt bikes. In recent interviews, she’s said the first engine she ever kick-started was a 125-cc motocross bike her neighbour let her try; by high school, she was spending weekends on local trails instead of at the mall. The skill set stuck: stunt coordinators on The 100 often leaned on her riding balance for fight scenes, and she once told Collider she keeps “two Harley-Davidsons in the garage because four wheels feel like a cage.”

One of those Harleys is Instagram-famous. In a 2021 post, she rolled out a sun-faded but running 1994 Harley-Davidson Sportster—captioned, “she’s still kickin’, just needs a bath and a tune-up.” The bike wears its age proudly: peanut tank, narrow ape bars, and enough patina to prove it hasn’t been hiding under a dust cover. When acting schedules allow, Avgeropoulos rides it from her Los Angeles home to coastal cafés, blending into weekend traffic until a fan recognises the unmistakable Octavia Blake grin at the stoplight.

The second machine shows her flair for colour: in a lifestyle shoot for Imagista magazine, she revealed a purple Harley with white-wall tyres, built to her own specs after she fell for the paint swatch at a custom shop. “Purple’s my happy colour,” she laughed, “so why shouldn’t my bike be happy too?” She alternates between the two Harleys depending on mood—Sportster for solo blasts, the purple cruiser when friends join for a group run up Mulholland.

Avgeropoulos doesn’t treat motorcycling as a photo prop. She’s spoken on podcasts about changing her own oil, checking chain slack, and how riding helps manage the nerves that come with night shoots and Comic-Con crowds. Asked what kind of protective gear she prefers, she answered, “Anything that still lets me feel the wind but won’t shred if I slide”—a practical nod from someone who’s tasted gravel before.

Spotting her is equal parts luck and timing: maybe refuelling on the PCH after a dawn ride, helmet perched on the Sportster’s tank, swapping trail recommendations with a stranger. Fame doesn’t change the routine; it just means the selfie requests start before the gloves come off. For Marie, the equation remains the same as it was on those Thunder Bay trails: a throttle, an open road, and the grin that sparks the moment the wheels roll.

Hugh Laurie — A Doctor, A Bonneville, and a Repsol Blade for Charity

While TV audiences remember Dr. House hobbling toward a Honda Fireblade, the man beneath the cane was busy writing his own prescriptions for throttle therapy. With his very first paycheck from the series, Hugh Laurie walked into a Los Angeles Triumph dealer and rode out on a Bonneville T100—silver tank, black knee pads, no fairings to hide behind. He later joked that the classic twin felt “polite yet slightly disreputable,” which also describes House on a good day.

The on-screen bike was another story. Producers kitted him out with a Honda CBR1000RR Fireblade in Repsol colours for those brief bursts of hospital-lot hooliganism. Off camera, Laurie kept riding it, enough that Honda built him an identical replica to auction for the American Red Cross in 2007. The winning bid came with his autograph on the tank and the guarantee it had been “thoroughly tested for sarcasm.”

Laurie’s love affair with motorcycles goes further back than prime-time fame. At sixteen, his father—an Oxford-educated doctor who rowed in the 1948 Olympics—handed him the keys to a used 125 and the firm advice to “mind the brakes in the wet.” Decades later, the actor still cites that first bike as a better teacher than any drama school: “You learn timing, balance, and when to shut up—mostly when cornering.”

During the House years, he commuted daily on the Triumph, splitting L.A. traffic at dawn so he could arrive on set wide-awake and already smiling. Castmates recall him pacing the parking lot after wrap, helmet in hand, counting down the minutes until rush-hour thinned and Mulholland Drive opened up.

These days, Laurie divides his garage between the trusty Bonneville, a discreetly upgraded Honda Fireblade (minus the racing livery), and one or two British antiques he prefers not to name for fear of price inflation. He rides less often but just as deliberately: early-morning coffee runs, Sunday loops into the canyons, and the occasional charity appearance where the real star is the bike on the stand.

Ask him why he still bothers with four a.m. alarm clocks and cold-start carburettors, and he’ll quote a line closer to blues than medicine: “Motorcycles are proof the soul has ears.” One twist of the throttle and Dr. House is off-duty—replaced by a rider who measures life not in episodes, but in miles before breakfast.

Olivia Munn — Midnight Miles and a Bonneville Built for Confidence

Olivia Munn’s route into motorcycling wasn’t a Hollywood photo-op; it started with a birthday gift that boomeranged. For her then-boyfriend’s 30th, she bought a BMW R1200R. They split, he said “keep it,” and—suddenly—she owned 500 pounds of Bavarian boxer she could barely tiptoe. Rather than stash the bike, she booked riding lessons and fell head-first into the culture her older brother James already loved (he runs a custom-bike shop back in Oklahoma).

Wisdom kicked in after the first traffic scare. On The Tonight Show back in 2012, she admitted Los Angeles drivers rattled her, so she practiced between 2 a.m. and 4 a.m. when the streets were empty. One midnight session ended with a coyote darting across the road; Munn laid the Beemer down and earned a small scar on her right leg—souvenir enough to inspire a downsizing.

Enter her current sweetheart: an all-black Triumph Bonneville T100. Lower seat, retro vibe, parallel-twin heartbeat—perfect for easing into corners instead of wrestling tall ADV geometry. Paparazzi shots from Malibu and West Hollywood show Bonnie wearing leather saddlebags and a discreet tank pad, proof it’s logged real grocery runs, not just red-carpet cameos.

Munn rides solo most of the time—helmet, leather jacket, no entourage—and tends to skip daylight freeways. “I’d rather enjoy the wind than battle SUVs,” she’s said. Friends claim she’ll still sneak out after midnight, looping quiet neighbourhood streets until the odometer ticks a stressful day into memory. The ritual stuck: gear up, full-face visor down, world on pause.

Family ties keep the passion grounded. When shooting in Oklahoma, she pops into her brother’s workshop, swaps the Triumph for whatever project bike James has just buttoned up, and road-tests it around the block before lunch. She credits those garage afternoons with teaching her chain tension and tyre pressures—little things that make a rider feel connected rather than merely perched.

Screen roles occasionally echo the hobby: biker-girlfriend Angie in New Girl, scar-kneed survivor Evie in Tales of the Walking Dead. But Munn is quick to separate fiction from the late-night reality of a Bonneville and a quiet cul-de-sac. “At two in the morning, it’s just me, the engine, and a couple of curious coyotes,” she once joked. Sounds lonely to some, liberating to riders—exactly the kind of small-hour freedom that keeps her fuel petcock—and her sense of calm—firmly in the ON position.

Ryan Reynolds — Café-Racer Craft and a Chrome Cannon from Vancouver

Hollywood’s favourite fourth-wall breaker spends his off-camera hours behind handlebars—usually ones bolted to a classic British twin. Reynolds’ best-known ride is a custom Triumph Thruxton 900 built by Dustin Kott: hand-formed seat cowl, vintage Yamaha fuel tank, “Live Fast” script painted on the headlight bucket. He debuted the bike in a short film called Invite the Unexpected and still sneaks it up the Pacific Coast Highway for dawn coffee runs.

Dig a little deeper and you’ll find a show-stopping 1964 Triumph 650 nicknamed “Nine O’Clock Gun.” Lucas Joyner at The Factory Metal Works chromed the frame, polished the engine cases, and wrapped the pipes in raw brass—all as a nod to the naval cannon that fires every night at nine in Reynolds’ hometown of Vancouver. It might be the shiniest thing on two wheels, yet he’s racked up real street miles on it, rain or shine.

Italian exotica also has a slot in the garage: a limited-production Ducati Paul Smart 1000 LE—silver-and-green fairing, wire wheels, and enough Desmo growl to drown out Deadpool one-liners. When the urge for nostalgia hits, Reynolds rolls out a Honda CB750 café racer built by Raccia Motorcycles, honouring the very CB750 on which he first learned to ride with his dad.

Reynolds keeps the fleet small and sentimental rather than bloated. Each bike tells a story—first lessons with his father, hometown pride, the search for perfect weld beads—and he’s quick to credit mechanics by name. Weekend sightings are common: a flash of maroon Thruxton tank carving Topanga Canyon, or the blinding chrome of the Nine O’Clock Gun catching sunset on Sunset. Ask him why he rides, and he’ll shrug: “It’s the only place I can’t check my phone.”

Throttle therapy, delivered with trademark understatement—pure Reynolds.

Katee Sackhoff — Scramblers, Charity Miles, and a Frankenstein Dual-Sport

Katee Sackhoff earned her sci-fi stripes piloting Vipers in Battlestar Galactica, but back on Earth, the Colorado-born actress prefers two wheels that actually touch the ground. She picked up riding in the mid-2000s, fell hard, and by 2010 had already logged a coast-to-coast fund-raiser: the “LA La Ride,” a 2,500-mile trip from Los Angeles to New Orleans she organized with cast-mate Tricia Helfer to benefit the Gulf after the BP oil spill. The pair later formalised their efforts as Acting Outlaws, a charity group that still stages annual motorcycle rides.

Sackhoff’s daily go-to for years was a 2008 Harley-Davidson Fat Boy—but not the showroom version. On a 2021 episode of Jay Leno’s Garage, she explained that “the engine and front forks are about all that’s stock.” Everything else wears the fingerprints of various SoCal builders: custom bars, hidden wiring, blacked-out pipes. When the bike finally went up for sale in 2023, she joked on Instagram that low mileage comes naturally “when you own too many motorcycles.”

Her most talked-about machine, though, is a mad-science special dubbed “KT675.” Built on TV for Café Racer Season 4, the project started as a humble Honda XR650L dual-sport. Classified Moto’s John Ryland bored the single to 675 cc, grafted on a single-sided Ducati swing-arm, and capped it with Yamaha sport-bike forks—equal parts enduro and café racer. Sackhoff rode the finished bike at the Barber Vintage Festival, calling it “the prettiest Frankenstein ever.”

The actress doesn’t stash these bikes behind velvet ropes. Paparazzi shots catch her rumbling through Venice Beach on the Fat Boy one day, lane-splitting traffic on a Harley Sportster the next. Helmet choice varies, but the grin stays constant. She’s candid about the mechanical side, too: social-media posts show her swapping brake pads and learning valve checks, usually with bruised knuckles and a proud caption.

Electric has her curiosity as well. In that Leno segment, she test-rode a Harley-Davidson LiveWire, praising the instant torque and admitting she could see one joining the garage “when range gets a little better.” For now, the petrol fleet keeps her schedule full—morning canyon runs, mid-day charity planning, and the occasional detour to Classified Moto for parts and coffee.

Ask Sackhoff what riding gives her that acting can’t, and the answer lands without a beat: “Motorcycles don’t care about your résumé—only your throttle hand.” Judging by the miles she racks up between shoots, that’s a conversation she’s happy to keep having, visor down and exhaust humming.

Jason Momoa — Vintage Harleys, Road-Trip Films and a Pink ’36 Knucklehead

Jason Momoa bought his first motorcycle at 19 with one of his early Baywatch Hawaii pay cheques: a 1956 Harley-Davidson Panhead FL he still owns and affectionately calls “Mabel.” The bike features a Springer front end from ’48 and has followed him across sets and continents for more than two decades.

Panheads opened the floodgates. Today, his garage leans almost entirely pre-war and post-war Harley: three Knuckleheads (1936, ’37, and '39), a 1927 Harley JD so original it still carried castor-oil residue when he found it, and a ’46 Indian Chief restored with fellow picker Mike Wolfe. The pink 1936 Knucklehead is the star of his Max docuseries, On the Roam—Episode 1, which shows custom builders bringing it back to life while Momoa beams like a kid at Christmas.

The actor’s relationship with the Motor Company is more than collector and brand fan. In 2021, Harley-Davidson released the “On the Roam × H-D” apparel line, co-designed by Momoa and inspired by vintage tank logos and his beloved Knucklehead engine. When Fast X needed a villain’s ride, he worked directly with Harley stylists to spec a purple Pan America 1250 that matched his character’s flamboyance.

None of these machines sits under covers. Momoa is a fixture at SoCal’s Born-Free chopper show, often rolling in on “Mabel” or that freshly restored JD, sleeves still streaked with grease. Social posts capture dawn rides along the Pacific Coast Highway, his kids’ skateboards bungied to the sissy-bar as proof the errands are real. He calls motorcycling “time travel on two wheels”—history you can smell, feel, and occasionally kick-start.

And if you’re wondering about maintenance, the six-foot-four Aquaman fits just fine on a shop stool: he rebuilt the Panhead’s Linkert carb himself and insists on doing the first oil warm-up after every overhaul. As he told a reporter during On the Roam: “Old bikes remind you nothing is permanent—except maybe a smile when the engine catches.”

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As every throttle twist in these stories shows, motorcycles have a way of equalizing the wildly famous with the rest of us: the engine doesn’t care about box-office numbers, streaming stats, or who’s on the cover this month—it just asks for fuel, attention, and a clear stretch of road. From Keanu’s garage prototypes to P!nk’s copper-tanked push present, each rider above found the same simple payoff: worry less, ride more, repeat.

If their tales lit even the faintest spark, grab a helmet, borrow a friend’s bike, or keep dreaming until the moment is right—and when you’re ready to wear the dream on your sleeve, you can snag the T-shirts featured here at the link below. See you out there, somewhere between first gear and a big, stupid grin.

CHECK OUT THE T-SHIRTS FEATURED IN THIS ARTICLE.

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Questions:

1. Think I left out a motorcycle-loving celeb who deserves a spot?
2. Which tee has your throttle hand itching for a ride? 🏍️💨

Fun note for the curious:

All the images you just saw were created with the help of AI; no celebrity actually posed in these shirts (or walked across your screen in the flesh!).

Why aren't they wearing helmets? Because with a helmet... you wouldn't recognize them even if they swore it was them! 😜