Photos and text by, our Bikernet Caribbean connection, Jose. It was a clear and sunny that infamous Monday morning in San Juan. The plane awaited to haul me toward Orlando where I jumped a rental car to Melbourne, home of Choppers Inc. As the plane took off I got the panoramic view of the North Coast. The surf was breaking in foamy explosions. The entire coastline looked better than ever….It was a really nice day. But action awaited for me in Florida and today was the day to rock.
As planned, I arrived at Billy’s shop around 1:00 PM. It was my first encounter with Billy’s Discovery Channel entrant into a two man ride-off. The Orange chopper (which I later nicknamed Agent Orange). It was still on the lift, work to be done, things to complete, I took a long look at the shapely project and sat down on a milk crate to soak it all in.
The Discovery filming crew was there, a bit antsy, but there. Billy was busy as hell trying to juggle the bike and his other commitments. Aaron from Paramount choppers was on hand to give Billy considerable, last minute, assistance. Nick, a Choppers Inc. master mechanic, was going crazy with other projects and his busted, multicolor toe. Yep, so what’s new at Choppers Inc.?Time went by and kept going. I thought about getting a hotel room and resting up. We had a long ride to Pensacola ahead of us, at least that was the plan.?Billy, Aaron, Ruskin, Booster, Beaner and me would get on our choppers and meet the ” other side”. Yeah right. Billy said he was going to work all night, and you know how it is. If a brother is going to burn the candle, we all burn the fucking candle.
Night turned into day and I passed out on the red couch. Not too bad, considering the lovely Suzanne tucked me in when she returned from work. The insanity rolled on. We were expected, yet still working. We all pitched in what we could, being aware of that strange space/relationship between builder and chopper, you know helping out but keeping a safe distance away from flying tools. Finally the chopper sputtered to life, the crew filmed the event and then took off for our meeting point. There was still work to be done. Tuesday was almost over.
At 6:00 am Wednesday Agent Orange rolled out the doors and was ready for a maiden voyage. Soon after that we loaded the Camel bike and my chopper in the trailer to head out. Yep , no trailer shame, I had appointed myself to drive the truck with Nick. The rest of the guys would roll on. Billy decided to load the chopper as well for the ride to the meeting point in Pensacola. It would be quicker that way, but he would ride from time to time to break the beast in. By eight we were on our way to Pensacola, really late, behind fucking schedule late.
The Discovery crew was flipping out, but being in two places at the same time is impossible, as far as I know. Who could blame Billy, he built five awesome bikes, moved the shop, plus built a bunch of customers bikes in less than six months. No easy feat, most single projects take longer than all these combined. The guys took off on their choppers and we never saw them again. Let’s fast forward a bit……
The ” other side” (Perewitz and 60 Hamsters) had already left Pensacola for Baton Rouge, which turned into Lafayette and a bit further. we were haulin’ ass trying to get there as soon as possible, something that never happened.
By the time we got to Pensacola there was a call from Aaron, his battery had taken a dip and they were in Tallahassee searching out a new one. We had their helmets and gear, and they needed it, plus some warm stuff for the night ride. We stopped at the state line and hid their stuff behind a fallen tree trunk, which will bring out other stories. Be we had to keep on rolling like madmen on a mission. We crossed Alabama and Mississippi in a flash. As the evening started to cool down Billy decided to ride the bike a bit, Booster as well. We rode/ drove into the state of Louisiana by night fall. That was the last time we saw Booster that night.
To top it off another call that Aaron’s battery had gone to better life (the second one), plus his regulator as well. They were forced to look for replacements in the darkness. Still in Florida, we were already hitting interstate 12 towards the West, no time to turn around and pick them up. They understood. That’s the way of the brotherhood, sometimes you can help, sometimes not. By the time we got to Baton Rouge we got a call from Booster, his pulley nut had loosened and he was some place near New Orleans.?I guess he got carried away with his new six speed tranny, what the hell. The bike was finished that same morning.
There was a Cajun party and Billy was expected. We had to carry on. We had no choice. By that time Beaner had his hand inside a dark tree trunk and was thinking of snakes. At least they found their gear and his hands were intact. Although, it seemed a bit funny that he had a rattlesnake adorning his top hat later on….
At last we made our exit. Billy was as tired or even more so than we were. The Discovery crew took him right into the party, we headed directly into the hotel room. It?was 11:00 PM Wed night, over 60 hours since I had left my house in Puerto Rico. We snagged Booster a tow truck for a mere $500.00, made the arrangements and crashed like there was no tomorrow. The shitty part was the obvious realization that there was a gruesome tomorrow ahead.
Thursday morning I rode my bike towards the group. On the way there my chopper had felt a bit funny and by inspecting it noticed that the rear axle had come loose, a quick decision was made to put it back on the trailer and fix it on the next stop, no suck luck. The threads had gone south. I was trailer queen ’till Shreveport.
I was apart of the last Discovery ride, what a blast. This time it seemed like a sea of yellow Hamsters. Over 50 bikes were lined up, ready to go. We started calling all this little mishap the ” Hamster Conspiracy”. Actually we started calling shit that since the first morning at Choppers Inc.
We left Lafayette following Billy and Dave Perewitz down country roads. The crowd was separated since it was too much for the small streets of the Bayou. Before I forget, they (Billy and Dave) had to get up at five in the morning to get some helicopter shots down I-10, way too fucking early for this Caribbean soul, I was more than happy in my hotel room.
As always the rides are as fun as the people you meet. We always have a great time at the gas stations along the way. Cops love to show up, shoot the shit and admire the bikes. We even managed to get a police escort in one of the towns. As you might imagine, I’m skipping some stuff. Why? Well, I don’t want to spoil the show, so let’s keep on.
One of the highlights of the day was Billy’s ass catching fire. His pipes merged into the fender. Yep, the fender was actually part of the exhaust. Although we had wrapped it, it still got hot. We became the unofficial water boys, that is, until his padding caught fire and we had to rush to put out the flames. In typical Billy style, he said that Dave was telling him that his ass what hot and he thought Dave had turned gay, to which Dave responded…”Choppers are for Kids”…..
Mike Lichter and Billy Lane. Mike has been shooting Sturgis for over a decade. On Father’s day his first photographic book will be published by Motorbooks International. It’s a tribute to his riding history and Sturgis.
To cap off the road day, we met at the last gas station and Billy popped a classic wheelie. Bye, bye to the rear belt, the Chopper rode in the trailer for the last 40 miles. We had late night plans (AKA visit strip joints) but everyone was beat to a pulp and we had to work on the bikes. We opted for a dinner break. Michael Lichter joined us and we had a great time, just talking, and enjoying Boosters antics. That’s when the rest of the guys showed up. Yep Ruskin, Aaron and Beaner, they finally made it all the way, two rigid choppers and Beaners raked road king. We had to kick out a bunch of kids from Billy’s room. It’s amazing how people recognize him and relate to him. Another long day waited ahead of us.
Friday morning the departure time was set for noon. We split early to a shop, Magic Touch AKA Bayou Customs. If you are ever by that neck of the woods, go visit Jim and TC. Those guys rock ! They opened the shop for us and let us repair anything. This is the stuff that I really like, people helping each other out, no egos, no crowds. The yellow shirted rodents were pissed at our delay and took off for Dallas. We had a good time fixing the bikes, why rush things? While Billy fixed his belt, Booster fixed his pulley. I fixed my axle and all the other guys checked what needed to be checked and welded what was cracked. Mind you, these were all rigid choppers, bare as they can be and ridden hard, very hard. Triple digit speeds are the norm. Aaron was flying over railroad tracks and Miss Behavin’ was on her second long-ass trip. No rest for the wicked! Meanwhile, the Discovery crew and Michael Lichter were having a ball with all the antics that went on. Even the guys from Klock Works out of South Dakota were hanging out. They had jumped ship on the “Hamster side”.
Booster and Chucky.
After reworking my whole rear wheel, we were ready to get the hell outta Dodge. A light rain started falling and we still had a bunch of miles before we’d hit Dallas. We tried to pay, but Jim would have nothing to do with that. I want to thank him and everyone there for their hospitality and help. We left some beer money and left the tallest rooster tails Shreveport has ever seen. I was wet but happy to be riding again. Life plays tricks when you think you have the upper hand. My spacers started rotating once more and I decided to call it quits before becoming a hood ornament or eating a asphalt buffet. My total riding distance of the trip was around 30 miles. Oh well, such is life outside the Tropics.
The afternoon turned into a pretty nice one, and I’m sure some of the best filming took place then. We hauled ass to Dallas, the party awaited.
We arrived in Dallas later that night. The party was in full swing at Easyriders of Dallas. We made the ultimate smoke burnin’ entrance. After so many miles Miss Behavin’s throttle got stuck and sent Ruskin flying into a sea of full dressers. The guy managed to dodge some of them, but not all. Fiberglass and reflectors flew all over the place. He managed to stop at the back wall and assess the damage. Needless to say, there were some very pissed off Texans. But what the hell are you gonna do? The party went on and fist fights never occurred. We closed the place up, these guys deserved it. Dallas cuties were all over the place.
It was Saturday at last. The Easyriders show was full on. Both bikes were separated by the ballot table. We had a grim 60 Hamsters to 6 odds, but people seemed to like Billy’s bike better. He was available all day to sign autographs and talk to people, Knowing Billy I can tell you he is a humble and simple person. I guess that’s why mere Joe’s like him. They can relate, but in all fairness I can’t say anything about Perewitz since I don’t know him that well. The afternoon went on and at the end Billy won the Build off. As the sun ducked out of sight, Tornado warning sirens and hail the size of golf balls sliced to the pavement. What a fucking way to end this strange, long trip. But like they say in the informercials, wait there’s more.
Silver City welcomed us with open arms and hot looking chicks, I took off early since I had to catch a plane back to Puerto Rico, the plane that never happened, the flight canceled and sending me to Miami, sleep over with no luggage?and catch another flight to San Juan, plus waiting six hours at DFW ….. What the fuck ! If this shit did not happen I could not be talking about it. Congrats Billy !
AFTERTHOUGHT
After being fortunate enough to be able to participate in the last two Biker Build Offs, I had a better view of differences and similarities. I don’t want to bash anyone, but I will always say it like I see it, so here we go. Let me warn everyone, this is my opinion and my opinion only !
There’s cool people and there’s dicks. There were over 60 people on this ride, so the odds were greater. Although I have very good friends within the Hamsters, the group at this ride were very competitive, they seemed rallied against us. They rode a lot of dressers and?Easter-egg colored?bikes. We were the “kids” on choppers, including Donny Smith (a Hamster) who had a very cool blue chopper with a girder front end. Maybe not them against us, but them there, we were here–kinda deal. On the first Discovery ride, everyone hung out together and had a great time. The group was together all the time, no bitching, no real desire to win or lose by either builder. No flyers with vote for such and such. At least at the end of the day we all hung out at the bar and laughed at all this.
I noticed that a lot more builders were there, Rumble Customs, Donny Smith, Aaron Greene, Bryan Klock, and others as well as journalists and photographers such as Beau Allen Pacheco and Michael Lichter.
The best time we had was within our small group. I heard that some people were pissed after Billy won, I was not there, but it might have happened, might not. There was no need for that, since we are all winners, no matter what.
I was also amazed by the number of people walking introducing themselves, either for the stuff they read here at Bikernet or The Horse. No one bitched at me, all were encouraging words. I’m still taken by surprise every time someone approaches me and says my name, even people that thought I was Billy’s brother, or saw me in the first show (and remembered !).
I can’t wait for the next ride. I know it’s going to be lots of fun as well. I guess this one was a lesson, in that strength is not based in numbers but on tenacity and friendship. We were just extras in this movie and all the importance was for the main character. I would endure a similar ordeal, anytime, with no regrets. That’s what friends are for.
Let me end this with something that Jim (from Bayou Customs ) said, (in more or less his words), ” I’m glad that this shows the true brotherhood of our lifestyle, the young guns who are keeping the true meaning alive, while the old guys forget what it is all about.” True indeed my friend, the old guys doing new stuff, the young guys keeping the old school tradition alive.
— Jose De Miguel
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