I know what bikers look for in a bar. Though I've never been a rider myself, I did spend 10 years tooling around Tokyo on the back of my Japanese boyfriend's 1977-78 FLH custom shovelhead Harley-Davidson. In fact, we met in Bar Aoyama, which he and one of his Harley-riding buddies used to frequent because it opens right onto the street with ample parking for bikes in front, meaning that he and his friend could easily check on their bikes. Theft of multimillion-yen bikes is even more prevalent in Tokyo these days.

But the most authentic biker bar we visited was one in Yokohama buried deep inside the port's light-industrial zone. Speed And Sports, as it was known, was almost impossible to find -- even if you were standing in front of it. There were no signs of bikes or evidence of a bar. I remember feeling a bit stupid as we knocked on a ordinary-looking office door to a warehouse around midnight one night. But as soon as someone answered, a shutter went up around the side, we wheeled in our bike and, once it was shut again, the partying resumed.

The Harley in Takadanobaba, on the other hand, is no secret. It sits in plain view right on the corner of Waseda and Meiji streets, with a wide apron of pavement in front. Two large plate-glass windows overlook the street, so you can easily keep an eye on your bike -- should you ride and park here for the night.