I was thinking of purchasing a Panhead to fool around with recently. Owned two back in the day, a 1965 in high school and a 1959 later in college. After reading Rick Schunk's Panhead Restoration book this past tour offshore I thought perhaps an Evo instead to keep the cost down. I thoroughly enjoyed the Evo's I had. A couple simple hop-up goodies and they were ready to roll. Especially the Crane 310 cam, loved it. (I saw Bandit and Dave Perewitz at the Crane Cam open house lunch in Daytona once.) Back when the events were small and everyone was invited.
Dave had taken an Evo dresser and put a chopper front end on it, blew my mind. So, I was thinking about a Heritage Softail in Tijuana fashion. High bars and a 21″ up front. That was what I ran on my 1989 and I toured the hell out of it.
Then I read you were doing a Frisco FXR with a Paughco frame. I remember the Springer FXR you did in Easyriders, read each installment like it was the bible.
I met Arlen Ness's morning ride in Spearfish Canyon many years ago. They were all riding stock FXRs but there was something different about them. After talking with Arlen he pointed out that each FXR was frame raked slightly to give it a lowered profile. Not with raked fork trees, but the frames raked ever so slightly. Very cool look on an otherwise stock bike.
I pointed to my overloaded Heritage and apologized for my lack of cool. Arlen laughed and said no apology needed. He appreciated my travel from Louisiana and staying on the road for three weeks. Told me I had a “rider” and we shook hands. Two years later found a friend and I chatting with Arlen at 9am on Main St. Daytona. We both had FXRs by then. My buddy wanted to install a wide glide and we were picking Arlen's brain about what was needed. After a long explanation of our concerns of rake, trail and handling. Arlen told us the wide glide was a piece of shit and the best Harley fork was the 39mm. However if we were insistent to install the wide glide then put the damn thing on and figure it out afterward.
The way he encouraged us to experiment and forget the technical was hilarious. My buddy did just that and Arlen was right on, looked cool, handled like shit. My 1992 FXLR has been sitting in the buyer's shed for 12 years. I keep offering him $2000 for it, maybe someday I'll get it back.
Despite all the work I did on my Twin Cam I feel like I am riding a Honda Shadow each time I take a putt. I installed the S/S gear cams. But I'm still an Evo fan, a more traditional ride. Right now I would rather drive the Sporty, it looks better, goes like hell and fits a midget like myself to a “T”.
I was born in 1953. My father was in the US Navy and we moved around until 1960. The family settled in Racine, Wisconsin, which is 30 miles south of Milwaukee on Lake Michigan. As a kid, I was always fooling around with mechanical things. Ran electrical grids throughout the basement powered by my train transformer. Took apart my dad’s snow blower one summer afternoon while he was at work. Never did get it back together. I took power mechanics and shop courses in junior high school.
Eventually my interest turned to motorcycles. Racine was an industrial town. It was the corporate home of Johnson Wax, Dremel Motor Tools, Case Tractors, Massey Fergueson, Twin Disc, American Motors amongst a few. There were foundries and machine shops throughout town and they ran 24 hours a day. Motorcycles were a popular form of transportation.
My first motorcycle was a Rapido 125cc purchased from Pater’s Harley-Davidson, when I turned 15 years old. I paid $425 for it. I earned the cash working at a carpet store after school. Bud Pater tossed in a red metalflake full-face helmet I wore for 20 years. I rode that bike everywhere, trails, street, it didn't matter. I sold that bike after a year and purchased a Sprint 250cc. That lasted about 6 months until I purchased my first Triumph TR6 650cc. It had a peanut tank and was painted rattle can black. I loved it. I rode it throughout high school.
Graduation from high school found me working at a local machine shop, Pater’s Harley shop and attending community college. The movie Easy Rider had come along and choppers started appearing on the Racine streets. I decided to purchase a Big Twin. My first look see was a stock rigid Panhead for $500. It sold while I was trying to figure out how to finance it. My next find was an 80-inch flathead ULH for $200 that I passed on as I thought it was the ugliest thing on earth.
Third time was a charm and I located a stock 1965 Electraglide in Milwaukee. I bought it for $1000, a huge amount of money when my hourly wage was $4. The seller asked me if I had ever ridden a big bike. Of course I said “Yes.”
That said I hit the button (it was the only year of electric start Panheads) and kicked it into first gear. At that point I let out the clutch and rocketed down his driveway, across a busy city street and up the neighbor’s driveway across the street. The driveways were elevated so it was down, across and up in about two seconds flat!
Everyone came running to see if I was okay. I stopped a couple feet short of the neighbor’s garage door. It was decided to take the FL to a nearby parking lot, and let me get acquainted with my new bike. I made a few practice loops and took off through town to the I-94 interstate home.
My girlfriend followed me driving my 1962 VW. I made it home safe with a huge smile on my face. I rode the ’65 stock for about 6 months. Then I tore it down to the frame and built what would be considered a fatbob today. My influences were Big Bike and Choppers magazines. The frame was sandblasted at the local cemetery monument works. The motor was rebuilt at Pater’s H-D and the build took place in my girlfriend’s parent’s basement.
Once the ‘Pan was finished my girlfriend and I broke up. The reasons included my bike and the time I spent on it. That bike changed everything for me. Summer came and I took off for upstate New York to attend an Allman Brothers and Grateful Dead concert at Watkin’s Glen. The trip went well with the only issue being the need to install a replacement set of generator brushes.
Bud Pater had advised me on what spares to carry: chain link, sparkplugs, points, condenser, generator brushes and a hydraulic lifter. An ammo bag filled with basic tools weighed down my duffel bag.
The following winter saw me frozen in Wisconsin with images of California sunshine on my mind. I sold the Panhead to a friend for $1300, bought a Ford Mustang and drove to Los Angeles, California. I hung out at the beach and stayed with relatives in El Toro for a couple months and then got a wild hair to drive to Florida. I picked up a hitchhiker in Arizona, and we were jumped in a Texas wayside one night in a scene out of Easy Riders. The hitchhiker was struck in the head with a hatchet and I fought off the four attackers with a hunting knife.
I dropped the hitcher off at the hospital and continued on to Florida. After Florida I headed back to Racine and decided to straighten up and attend the University of Wisconsin in Madison. I was determined to make something of myself.
That lasted about a month. Once back home, I sold the Mustang and bought a beautiful stock Triumph Bonneville 650. I told my parents it matched my new haircut and was a cut above the 1965 Pan which scared the hell out of them.
Little did they know how fast that Bonnie was. Besides it handled like a dream on the Wisconsin back roads. It was on one of those rides, when I passed a 1959 Duo-Glide with a for sale sign on it. It was $900. I gave the guy $25 to hold it for a week. I secured a bank loan until I could sell the Bonneville.
The ’59 was taken apart in a shed behind the students' apartment building I was living in. I painted it rattle can black and started growing my hair out again. The university girls loved that bike. This was before students took over campus with those damn scooters. I rode the FL to class and parked it at the doorway. I worked at Sears as a custodian from 4 to 9 am. I rode that bike to work every morning rain, snow or sunshine. I rode the bike to Helmet protests at the capital and because it had saddlebags would ride at the head of the procession with the speeches in the saddlebags. The local MC club was the CC Riders. They tolerated me as a wannabe, though I never took the step to join.
The mid ‘70s found the Honda and Kawasaki big bikes taking over the street. I made what was the worst decision of my riding life and sold the ’59 Pan. I bought a Honda 750 Four. The Honda was everything the Harley wasn’t. Fast and efficient, it always ran and never gave me any trouble. Unfortunately, it had no soul.
I looked for another Panhead but couldn’t find one in my price range. What I did find was unexpected, a 1972 BMW 750 twin for $800. I sold the Honda, pocketed the difference and started riding the Beemer. I rode that damn bike for five years. I graduated in 1979 with a mechanical engineering degree. Riding to my parent’s house for Thanksgiving holiday I was passed by a Harley outside of Milwaukee. I was determined to check out the bike and tucked in behind it as the rider rode into Milwaukee. The rider flagged me over and we pulled over on the side of I-94. A polite set of introductions found me standing in front of Norm Cox the Head of Harley’s Vehicle Test Division. Mr. Cox listened to a short version of my motorcycle life. He invited me to interview with Harley the following week. I did and January 1980 I was hired as a Harley-Davidson vehicle test engineer working at the Juneau street address.
I thought I had found my dream job. Getting paid to work at Harley? I was on top of the world. At my own insistence, I was allowed to attend the factory Harley mechanic school. I spent any warm winter afternoon riding factory bikes around Milwaukee to put miles on the fleet. Under wraps in the next room was a bike project referred to as “Nova” with a Porche engine. I didn’t think it could get any better. Factory class
I was wrong. The factory was actually in hard times and the word was out that it was about to close. I jumped ship. I was reading the Sunday Chicago Tribune employment ads and saw the ads for engineers needed in the oil industry. This was 1980 and domestic oilfields were booming. I submitted a set of resumes and April 1980 found me and the BMW 750 in Louisiana.
I signed on to an oilfield service company and have been working there now thirty years. In the meantime my love for motorcycling and Harley- Davidson has continued. I was there for the early years, the hard times, the Evolution bandwagon and today. I look forward to the years ahead and retirement. I will once again strap a pack to the sissybar and hit the road. I will be back where I belong.
