General Posts

Continued from page 1…… I was about to reach for the phone book one morning, on an ass-saving spring hunt, when the mail arrived with an invitation to the Harley-Davidson new-model announcement. At that point I was spending every extra moment in the garage and interruptions were a problem. But the factory has always been

Continued from page 2…… With a couple weeks left, I called Joker Machine daily. I didn’t want to press, but I was going out of my mind. My contact, Geoff, had faced some health problems and decided that smoking was his cure. I didn’t want to add to the stress of building high-precision, very costly

That afternoon, I finished the weekly update and jammed for the tilting garage. Nuutboy had already broken under the extreme pressure and hauled ass for foreign shores. Wrench checked into rehab for the 24th time. He had been awake for three weeks and was beginning to look like the guy from the “Living Dead.” Japanese

The next morning, after breakfast at Stan’s diner in Scottsdale, we rolled north toward Payson on our way to Holbrook. Stan’s is a small joint in a dull rectangular building downtown, that Stan tried to spruce up with adobe chairs and tables. A skinny waitress came to take our order but since this was Myron’s

The next morning, Myron and I got our asses in gear and loaded our scoots. Karl and Cheri were returning to Phoenix the long way through the mountains and Flag before getting home. We said our goodbyes and headed out. It was odd, or maybe not, that Myron and I were travelin’ without maps this

  The Harley shop in Green River didn’t have it, nor did any of the other bike shops in the valley, but there was a shop in Aspen. It wasn’t in the phone book and couldn’t be reached by directory assistance. I called the Harley shop back and was given the number for Aspen Custom

That last 25 miles were the worst of the trip. It rained off and on as the traffic became thick as mud on your boots. Lane splitting is not allowed and when we attempted to play ignorant travelers, motorists tried to hit us. As the sun broke over the parking lot of cars, the humidity

Late into the evening, Bandit, Nuut Boy, and my wonderfully-knowledgeable- self hammer, weld, bolt, space, and tear our beards out moving forward on Bandit’s rigid. The Weerd Bros front end is in place with the Roadwings 21-inch, 40-spoke wheel. The rear is a 180-18, both with Avon tires. The frame is stretched 6 inches up

In a mad rush to build and break-in a monster Simms built S&S motor rigid before the long haul to Sturgis, Bandit makes an abrupt move. At the final hour he decided to take the frame to a local powder coater in Orange County who is capable of layering on a two or three stage

Here’s the deal. With less than two weeks to go I’m praying, laughin’, grinning and scrambling. The paint finally arrived from Harold Pontarelli of H-D Performance of Vacaville, California, and the dark haired beauty wanted to be at the shed when I opened it. I paced the floor waiting for her alabaster legs to bring

    Wiring is the nemesis of man, the puzzle of the best builders, the hornet’s nest of breakdown treachery. Bandit sat for hours drawing a wiring schematic for Agent Zebra’s Softail, only to rip it to shreds and toss it in the trash. He made lists while Sin Wu brewed strong coffee and baked

    With the final Joker Machine forward controls bolted in place on the Daytec stretch, Bandit began his test ride period. With 300 miles estimated on the machine, a full fluid change took place and only one element was left hanging–the speedometer. For Bandit, trip gauges act as gas gauges. Once he knows the

I knew it! The sonuvabitch couldn’t make it to the Badlands and back on that piece of shit. I knew it! The way Bandit mounted that tank was fucked from the beginning. I told him. Nuutboy told him. Harold Pontarelli told him. Shit, his 78-year-old mother told him. Did the big bastard listen? Nooo. So