Little John’s Desk

I don’t know what gets into that bastard, Bandit, he’s got way too much going on. The one thing about working with him is that we can say anything we want, like the time Zebra blew a hole in the headquarters because he was pissed about something. We let this jerk know what’s on our minds. So when he started another motorcycle desk, I got in his face, just like I do whenever he starts anything. When Jon Buttera of Lil’ John’s Customs saw Bandit’s desk and wanted one, the big bastard said, “No problem, I’ll make ya one.” Sure, it’s not like running out and building a new bike, but it still is a helluva lot of work. So I got right into his face, but it didn’t do much good. Fortunately for the crew around here, NuttBoy had the time and a pickup to pitch in, so they went to work.

The first aspect of building one of these puppies is finding the parts, and Bandit is known for collecting junk. There’s one firm rule for these projects: There shouldn’t be any working parts on these puppies. I ride Bandit like a mad dog on this code. It must be built from junk, or forget it. We’ve got staff members who need bikes. We’ve got crew whose bikes are broken. I can’t allow anyone to put a proper working component on a desk. Got that? Besides, if I let the rule slip, Bandit will start taking parts off bikes behind the bar.

Years ago when Bandit built his first desk, he asked long- time friend Ron Paughco for frames and front ends that could not be sold to the public. Ron went into the basement of his Carson City manufacturing shop and found two such animals. That was the beginning. Then Bandit contacted engine builders and dug around in his garage for shit that would never run again. It’s actually not hard to do, and soon he had enough components to begin the process.

With the frame and front end assembled, NuttBoy and Bandit strapped it to their lift and stood back. The front end didn’t reach the ground so NuttBoy went to work cutting and brazing bits of tubing to form a stand under the front end. In order to make such a stand work, the frame must be pulled tight to the lift, and it’s not a bad idea to make sure that it’s level. You need to put bearing cups in the neck, old bearings if you have them. If not, wrap the stem with strips of beer cans until it’s tight.

In this case, Bandit got the shell of a blown-up engine from Marty Ruthman of High Tech Custom Cycles. The head gasket had blown and the rider didn’t stop to check it out so the stream of leaking fire had shot a hole from the headbolt stud hole through a couple of fins on the rear cylinder. Bandit and NuttBoy bolted the engine together with heads, barrels, a JIMS cone cover and lifter stools. They found a couple of defective Custom Cycle Engineering finned rocker box covers from the late ’80s and bolted them directly to the heads without the use of the bottom or center rings. I thought they’d lost their minds and started to scream and throw shit at them. Bandit ignored me and mumbled something to NuttBoy about no valves, no need for the bottom two rings or the lifter axles. Now if you look close you’ll see that it looks as though the engine was channeled. That lame bastard pulled the valves and springs out of the heads and discovered that the top rocker box cover would fit down against the head, which accomplished a couple things. One, the frame was built for a Pan or Shovel, so now the Evo had no problem fitting. It gave the engine a tight, squat look, although some Mickey Mousing went along with the fastening of the finned cap and realigning the holes. I took another pull on my flask, sat back down on my milk crate and shook my head in disbelief.