Master builder and mechanic, Deacon, from Pro-Street in Oahu.

Bob Kay. from American Iron Horse. was a bro and shipped the retro Shovelhead. from Strokers in Dallas. to LifeStyle Cycles in Orange County, California along with a new batch of Dallas Choppers. It arrived the day before a handful of weary travelers stumbled into Los Angeles. on their way home, from Sturgis, Glen and Kerry Priddle were headed back to Australia after spending almost a month, with a dozen Aussies, roaming the mid west.

 

Deacon’s son Chase and the 1928 Shovelhead.

Deacon, his son Chase, and the son’s girl Amanda rode several thousand miles averaging 95 mph wherever they rode. Deacon and Chase are both master mechanics. The ol’ man’s shop, Pro-Street, is located on Oahu, (808) 236-0405 and he’s negotiating with Billy Lane of Choppers Inc. to build engines for Billy’s Discovery Channel Bikes. His son is working in Oregon, but as soon as he returns, he’s packin’ his shit and heading back to the islands.

 

JIMS machine rebuilt and detailed the engine. It was sharp and runs like a top.

 

Charging and checking battery connections.

 

Deacon checking the solenoid.

Deacon rolled into the Bikernet Headquarters just as the Shovel arrived and we attempted to fire the beast to life. I moved the seat forward, detailed the front end and charged the battery. But, even with a fresh battery, she wouldn’t engage. Deacon suspected the aftermarket solenoid. Seems the spacers and gaskets are too thick, just enough to prevent the solenoid from grabbing the shaft. I trimmed the gasket with an Exacto blade and Deacon ground the face of the spacer. Installed, it worked like a champ. We took it for a ride.

 

Los Angeles Harbor and our first roadtest.

 

First Deacon checked the connections and voltage at the solenoid. He also shorted across the leads with an Allen wrench to see if the circuit was operating properly.

 

The solenoid replaced after the gasket around the base was trimmed and the spacer, behind the unit, shaved. Worked perfectly.

 

Checkin’ the gears.

It was impossible to jam the suicide shifter into nuetral once the bike was running, even while rolling. Deacon and chase adjusted the clutch, and recommended a Rivera, old school, clutch pack to eliminate chatter and afford the rider smoother shifts. The clutch wobbled and was too tight to find neutral. They loosened the springs until only a thread showed past the adjustment nuts and the spring retainer ran true.

 

Can you see the cracks?

 

The Millermatic 175 hard at work.

 

Deacon built a bead then ground it smooth as a baby’s ass.

 

The tip installed, solid as a rock.

I developed padded fork stops and while running we noticed that the clean, handmade, Stroker’s pipe tip was rattling with only one bolt holding it. Upon removal we discovered that the area around the installation nut had already cracked and Deacon grabbed the Millermatic. He welded the cracks and nut for more strength. Then we discovered that the tip shelf was too small, so the pipe end had a tendency to vibrate. Deacon went back to the welder and built a bead around the outside, of the shelf, then ground it to fit. A much cleaner/tighter fit, and the pipe didn’t require an additional fastener.

 

Anybody know how old this cast bronze emblem is?

While in Hawaii at the first Choppers Only Show in Wakiki, I gave Deacon, the promoter, a handmade belt buckle for being a gracious host. He returned the favor with an old license plate doodad from the Antique Motorcycle Club. It was destined for the Shovelhead.

 

While testing the shifting, clutch and tranny, the gears seemed to bang harshly. We checked the oil level, which seemed precariously low. It wasn’t bad, but we drained the oil and replaced it with fresh Custom Chrome tranny lube.

 

The 1928 Shovel was ready to rock and so were we. Deacon and Glen broke out harmonicas and kicked off the blues. They sampled the Irish whiskey, Tullamore Dew, Sin Wu barbecued and the party rolled on.

 

Deacon and Glen bringing down the Bikernet Garage.

 

One mo’ shot of Tullamore Dew.

Helluva night, sharp bike and times to always remember. The next day Deacon air-freighted his 2003 FLH to Oahu and grabbed a flight. His son and Amanda boarded their basket case Softail and rode north. Glen and Kerry hid out in Los Angeles and waited for their flight back to Australia, and we dusted off the headquarters and pretended to go back to work.

Stay tuned for the next adventure of the 1928 Shovelhead.

–Bandit

 

 

Just when you thought a project slipped off the lift, the paint arrived. Harold Pontarelli of H-D Performance, in Vacaville, California, made this puppy sing. It’s now mighty close to pavement miles. What started as a 1984 Mexican Police bike was transformed into a 1928 Shovelhead.

All the Compu-fire electrics possible were stashed on brackets built into the frame backbone, under the split halves, of the gas tanks. The finish on the frame, front end, brackets and wheel rims came from Custom Powder Coating in Dallas. The drive to finish the bike came from Lena, the lovely daughter of Rick Fairless, the owner of Strokers Dallas, formerly Easyriders of Dallas.

The magazine publisher determined that the 30-odd Easyriders stores around the country were not sending him enough bags of gold and pulled his name from their stores. Whatta shame, but Rick and many of the other store owners have bargained with supportive companies such as HOT BIKE and Big Dog. Some have chosen one of those names to stand behind, others, like Rick and Myron Larabbee, in Scottsdale, Arizona headed in their own directions. We’ll see what happens next.

This scooter is reminiscent of kits now being manufactured by Arlen Ness and Randy Simpson of Milwaukee Iron in Lynchburg, Virginia. Both of these talented builders are developing rolling chassis kits to house the driveline of your choice. Check with them if you have an engine and transmission around that’s dying for a nostalgic rejunivation.

This particular 1928 Shovelhead was built with scraps and components from as far away as England. Parts were ordered from sources that actually remanufacturer fenders, tanks and seats for old Harley restorations. Additional components were scavenged from a shop closing in Van Nuys, California, but the final creation, fabrication and assembly was handled by a couple of talented builders at Strokers in Dallas. JR started the project then escaped the country for four years, while Jim Stultz took over. Jim has since opened his own shop and JR returned to the fold for final assembly.

JR slicked the welds before anything was powdered or chromed and cut spacers for the rear 21-inch wheel. They ran into one problem with the battery box configuration. The battery wouldn’t fit. With some quick adjustments, a super strong Spyke gel battery slipped into place and kicked the scoot right off. The oil is housed in a portion of the gas tanks, so the box above the transmission handles only the battery and the ignition switch, with some wiring.

“When we build bikes,” JR said, “We completely mock them up before chrome and paint, but we don’t juice and start them. That creates too much of a mess to deal with before chrome and paint.” I rode through the final joining of parts with JR for tips that you could use. When the majority of the chrome and paint was in hand he began assembly. “First we had to send the wheels out to be relaced, trued and balanced,” JR explained. Since we went the extra mile to powdercoat the rims, the wheels had to be torn down, then re-assembled once the painted rims were returned. Note that the front 21 matches the 21 on the rear for that spindly, early look.

JR put the bike up with the front end, rear fender (it had tight clearances, so they mounted the fender before the wheel) rear wheel and front wheel, so it was a rolling chassis. Then the engine was installed (after the powder was shaved away from the mounting areas) and the transmission in that order. Before the driveline was tightened, he mounted the inner primary to insure proper alignment. Then the battery box was installed.

Next the electrical components were installed so that the wiring could be run between the gas tanks and hidden from view. Then the gas tanks/oil tank was installed on the backbone of the frame. Jim originally bent solid tubing oil lines, but they leaked some and tight bends were threatening oil flow. “I was concerned,” JR said, “Shovels and Pans need a lot of lubrication, quick. If I could, I’d pour the oil in through a big funnel. He was concerned about the myriad of hard bends and the small I.D. of the tubing. “I chose to use a larger diameter rubber tubing.”

Then JR mounted the brakes, which were both disc and mostly Performance Machine components. Final components followed including the primary drive, the handlebars, headlight and internal throttle to the S&S carb. Note the lack of controls on the bars.

“The engine fired off the first time,” JR said smiling. “We planned to Jet Hot coat the handmade exhaust pipes, but the boss, Rick Fairless, voted for chrome.” After the bike was fired and tested they yanked the pipes for dipping.

If you’ve read the previous installments, you caught the sixth wife threat looming over Bandit’s head. After five wives he has a deadly code, “No more wives”. So he drug his cowboy boots in a dire effort to stay out of Texas. He’s hoping his tactic worked, that the lovely Lena Fairless has grown and lost her desire to chain Bandit down one more time. She’s almost of age and being sought after by a line-up of young Dallas riders. Hopefully, one will sweep her off her dainty feet.

Bandit remains in California and awaits the arrival of the 1928 Shovelhead via a Truck from American Iron Horse, the custom bike manufacturer in Dallas. Then we’ll road test the scoot ourselves and take the photos needed for a full feature on Bikernet and in a bike magazine. Hopefully soon it will rumble down the old streets of San Pedro, its home.

–Wrench

When the dust and metal filings settled, the smoke cleared, and the greasy gang of wrenches at the famous Bikernet Garage sobered up, before us stood a gleaming new chopper, complete and ready to break in, save for a few minor tweaks and a seat. The Zebra entry for the Bikernet ChopOff 2000 was complete. The Great Northern Steamer, scheduled to blast from the Caribbean shores of South Beach, Miami, all the way to the western Badlands of Sturgis, South Dakota, stood shimmering in the Southern California sunshine. A moment of silence occurred naturally. Then Bandit farted. The Great Northern Steamer is the first complete entry (or virtually so, save for custom seat, a bit more paint, and a few tweaks and adjustments) to come off the steaming chopper assembly line at the Bikernet West garage in San Pedro. She’s a fast horse, with no bells, no whistles and a low, clean look. This is a true garage chop. Comprised of our favorite parts from our bad-assed vendors who work with us at Bikernet, the Zebra chop should be a joy to ride and not bad on the eyes either. She’ll roll on new Avon rubber, a 21 up front and a 150/16 in the rear, which is as wide as you can go on a stock softy frame without moving swingarms and trannys. We kept her this way because we know a lot of bros don’t have access to zillion-dollar bank accounts and nine-month time periods to re-engineer entire frames. The Zebra chop was purposely built to be an every-man’s chopper—something any of us could build right in our own garage with a bit of determination and hard work. The Avon rubber will be wrapped around newly released Harley-Davidson Thunderstar rims. The engine is a salty RevTech 88 from Custom Chrome and came out of the box humming like a dragon sitting on a cattle prod. I can’t wait to get past the break-in and give that big horse some oats and see what she’ll do. Expect me and whatever lucky lass I decide to strap on the back to arrive early in Sturgis this year. The tranny is a pussy-smooth Baker 6-speed, known for strength (I’m a bit heavy handed on clutches as Bandit is always pointing out) and high-end gearing. I prefer the left lane. We took the narrow-glide front end off the Bandit II along with the lighthouse-bright Headwinds headlight and slipped it on. I might have Eddie Trotta at Thunder Designs in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, (where the bike will be received after being shipped from our garage in San Pedro by Ken Gold) throw on a set of wide-glide triple trees. The jury is still out on that one. Eddie and his men will also be in charge of sharp shooting our work, checking for any errors, and handling break-in oversight. All the wiring was done by our resident electrical genius, Bandit, who spent the better part of his three tours in Vietnam keeping the big guns of his heavy cruiser wired tight and barking day and night. The handlebars are Cyclesmith and set flat and low, like the horns on the big bulls that periodically tried to hook my guts out when I rodeoed. Everything hangs off a Ron Paugh special, a Paughco frame, stretched five inches and raked. She’s got a Harley-Davidson battery. The pipes are also from the Bandit II and were initially a ThunderHeader system, the header part, which we sliced off. Now it’s a pair of flashing noise downspouts that make the big RevTech 88 sound like God falling down the stairs when you roll it on. Talk about a sound boner. The call of this big bull will swoon any lass who’s not deaf. The Ride Lo lowering kit actually took the chop a bit too low and we’re planning on having Eddie Trotta’s boys crank it up a few inches so when I load my 220-pound ass on along with a couple hot rod blondes I scoop up from the topless beach in Miami (I’m not kidding, bros, it’s topless, you should visit), the sucker won’t spark all the way to SD. It’s a chain drive up front, rubber in back. I know everyone says the chains look good in the rear, but they buzz the guts out of my ladies and I’d rather have a 20-year-old, six-foot goddess from Spain on back than a sparkly chain any day. I can do more with the Spaniard when I get to where I’m going, if you get my drift. The oil bag was a complete motherfucker and we re-hung it about as many times as a cattle rustler in Kansas who gets caught on your favorite horse with your old lady thrown over the saddle horn and your best rifle in the scabbard. Phil Stadden painted the custom front fender and stock Fat Boy rear fender, which we bobbed considerably. The paint job matches the existing burgundy paint on the Paughco frame, which was one of the parts we got back from West Coast Choppers. Still waiting on the others. I’ll store my gas in a stretched FXR tank that was jerked long by Russ Tom in Seattle. We have a left mirror, the right seems to be lost in the West Coast Choppers abyss of “missing” parts, so I may have to buy two new mirrors or just run the right side glass. I will take the German Feminine (we’re a bit on the outs at the moment, so we’ll see how this part goes) up to Eddie Trotta’s Thunder Design in Ft. Lauderdale when the Great Northern Steamer gets in and measure for a seat and passenger footpegs. I’m going to try to construct a good-looking seat that seats two comfortably, but retains the very low-profile look of the bike we’ve created. The footpegs will probably sit about an inch behind mine, since the German Feminine was born with enough leg to wade in the deep end of the pool. We may also add a very striking and radical sissybar to keep all of my lovely European sweethearts on the scoot as I cavort about the balmy regions of Miami. At the moment, the highest point on the entire bike sits at about belt loop height and I’d like to keep it that way. But if I have to add a sissybar to keep my ladies from burning their breeches on the twirling rear Avon, then I’ll construct something radical and good looking to throw behind them. If I can get Bandit away from the Jack and women to actually send one out, I’ll probably also throw one of the very handy and well-designed Bandit Dayrolls up front to hump gear and any small tools. Thanks to all the bros at Bikernet West who helped wrench together my entry for the Bikernet Chop-Off 2000. Bandit was the master wrench in charge and spent many a thankless hour, welding naked and screaming in the spooky recesses of the Bikernet garage in San Pedro and deserves a clean clap on the back for a job well done. I’ll keep you posted as I run the new horse through her break-ins down in the 100-degree heat of Little Havana and blow off that new chop smell. Hope all you bros out there are getting your scoots ready for the big run and we look forward to blasting north into the Badlands for some serious partying, eating, drinking, and of course loving the ladies in Sturgis. Now the focus shifts to getting Bandit’s entry completed. His scoot is looking damned good so far and the air wrenches are singing the Bikernet national anthem day and night. Bandit and I will be arriving on (we hope) the 5th, covered in bug guts and bragging rights to start campaigning for the big vote to see which chop the bros chose as the Bikernet Chop of the Year.   Grease up and get your gear, bros, it’s almost time for the big run... May the best badass win. See you in Sturgis. Ride hard, Special Agent Zebra Bikernet East

Hey, here’s quick bit on George The Wild Brush who handled the Pin Striping on the 2005 Sturgis Shovel project. He’s pin striped several other bikes for me in his 47 years behind the brush. Born in Hanford, California, a miserable military town, in 1944, he kicked tumbleweed while his mom worked on a base.

She moved to the safety of Southern California away from the miserable summer central Califa heat, to Long Beach then Lakewood (next door) where he went to school, but didn’t graduate.

“I was too busy reading Car Craft mags and drawing flying eyeballs,” George said.

He was warned that the fad would die so his vocation would fail. “The fad’s still rockin’,” George said. “My first car was a ’54 ford and I custom painted the driver’s side. I couldn’t afford enough paint to finish the passenger side, so I had the only cool side.”

He studied Von Dutch work, Larry Watson and George Barris. “I’ve striped refrigerators, toilet seats (new ones), and 50 and 110 Tom Gentry trans Atlantic ocean racing boats. He’s taught me a thing or two about striping. “It’s best to have the parts off the bike for the best quality art.”

Here’s a couple of codes:

It’s difficult to paint bare aluminum—“Paint won’t bond to it.” without a primer.” I worked at Gasoline alley for 15 years painting aluminum dragster bodies.

It’s also difficult to pin strip chrome—“It won’t hold up due to the lack of porosity.”

He only uses One-Shot enamel paints—“Can’t use any paint.”

With motorcycles it’s a good idea to clear over striping—“People don’t pour gasoline all over cars, but they do bikes.”

Cars don’t generally need to be cleared over striping work.

His number is (310) 488-5488 for classic pin striping and good stories.

George came to the shop just after I picked up the clear powdered aluminum sheet metal from Foremost Powder. He usually tells me what I’m going to have striped. I have a vote and initial color selection, then I best get out of the masters way.

He striped the Goodsen Air Cleaner, which was treated to my holy treatment, then brushed with Scotchbrite to remove the polished appearance.

Then he striped the panel polished, highly-modified, XR750, Cyril Huze donated tank and Lucky Devil, custom made fenders. I polished the panels and brushed the rest for a two-tone effect. Not sure it worked, but George gave it a final touch.

George suggested the 5-ball addition to the center of the tank. Not the gas cap. Ultimately I filled the center-mounting hole with a small 5-Ball to commemorate our company and all the women who put up with my shit over the years. In case you don’t know the story, I’ve been married five times, that’s five misses Ball.

Click to see morefrom Lucky Devil

Helluva weekend. Anytime there's lots of motorcycle carnage,sex, whiskey and writing, I'm all for it. Maybe it's Valentines Daycreeping up. Make a note. Here's the deal on the Sturgis Shovelhead. Sincethe engine was in and mounted I went to work on the exhaust system,then seat mounting, position and played with the bars. I made a runto a local steel joint, because I had a notion that I doubt will worknow, but I'm still investigatin'.           

Click to see morefrom Lucky Devil

Let's hit the highlights. I'm fortunate to have a young,talented fabricator/builder who I'm sharing ideas and resources with.Kent from Lucky Devil Metal Works in Houston is on the phone dailyfor tips and knowledge sharing. It's damn healthy to have someone whois in the trenches daily to assist. In fact I had a couple ofcrucial metallurgy question that morning, but let's hit what Iaccomplished.           

A crucial aspect of building any bike is planning. That'snot to say all my eggs are in a row. We'll see, but the more you canaccommodate, the less redo's will be necessary. Also, don't throwanything away. That junk part might be a critical bracket tomorrow. Idug through my partially organized pipe bin and found a set of oldglass pack, shorty muffler, shot gun pipes. I could use the rear one.I decided, since noise issues are a concern and performance issue area constant priority, I would build a set of shorty mufflers withBandit tuned baffles.

Then I spotted the fishtips in the pile and myconsideration changed. I dug further. Kenny Price from Samson allowedme to dig through his warranty bin when I was looking for stanchionsfor my Bikernet office railing. I remembered touring mufflers withfish tips, I kept digging.

Sure enough I had a set and in quick movesI sliced them into chunks. You know me, I'm a gambler. I cut themwith no methodology in mind past the size and looks, but I came uplucky. Samson designed a baffle system with a cone at the front toguide exhaust pulses into the baffle and it seems to be working fortouring applications. I cut off that portion and discarded themajority of the baffle. But there was still 2 inches of baffle and astandard donut in the rear of the muffler. That's where fate movedit's evil hand over Richard Kimball again. Or in other words I rolledthe dice.           

I spoke to Kendall Johnson recently and he told me aboutperformance stepped exhaust systems and reversion cones used to tunesystems at the rear of the pipe. I couldn't make this donut move upand back, but I had the makings of a reversion cone at the stern.With a torch I cut out the remaining baffle, then after speaking withthe HOT BIKE staff member, Craig Murrow, for a reversion cone descriptionI knockout out the remaining baffle, then with various cutting andgrinding cones I formed and smooth departure for the exhaust pulses.Then I had to remove the old touring mounts with a die-grinder andthey were ready to weld.           

The rear pipe was comparatively easy since the pipe wasalready made except for the muffler and brackets. Shovelheads arenotorious for louse exhaust manifold connections and tearing out thesingle stud, so I wanted to mount them in the front and rear for asolid, secure connection. The only port for the connection at thefront was the oil bag. That was a bad choice and I'll run a bracket off the seat post before all is said and etched in stone.

These will no-doubt be removed and relocated to the seat post for a more secure, less vibration connection.

I had to make sure the pipe could be removed with the tabs onthe bottom, then I spaced the tabs apart with a heat sink material. Imay use Teflon, then the notion that the oil bag is rubbermountedfloated to the surface. What bearing would that have on thiscoupling? Hell the frame will vibrate like a mad dog. I'm stillquestioning that link, but we'll see, maybe a spring between the tabs? The final decision was the seat post bracket to come.           

There was one other pipe design consideration–the length.I try to keep the pipes somewhat equal and between 32 and 38 inches.Buster's Sportster runs sharp and crisp with his hand-made 38-inchesfrom the Bikernet Headquarters, as seen in Street Chopper. So Idesigned this pipe to be 38-inches and not protrude past the tire. Mygoal was to make the front pipe curve out the other side and be ofequal length.

At the end of Friday night, one pipe was complete, toolswere scattered all over the shop and I had a couple of Hooker Headerchunks of 1 3/4 pipes segments cut and was fooling with the frontheader. The front was tricky as hell. I wanted to scoop out the leftside of the bike, which added length. I also had a bitchin Rohm Engineering oil filter/cooler system that mounts to the front motormounts and aims the filter at the ground for ease of removal anddraining. The pipe had to clear it significantly. This puppy was alifesaver. I planned to run an oil cooler (Shovelheads run hot) andfilter, for a lasting driveline and more oil capacity. My originalplan called for old school mounting on either side of the oil bag.This eliminated all of that and the plumbing for two elements, the cooler and the filter, wasreduced to one hot looking job in front of the engine for maximum cooling.           

I spentall day long on Saturday, dodging the phone and working in thegarage. I had all the tools and materials I needed, even two new setsof welding glasses, which came in damn handy. The trick was to lineup the pipes, make all the right decisions, hope for the best andtack 'em. I did and with a level I constantly compared the pipe tothe top of the lift. The spacing worked out fine.           

The bitchin Rohm oil cooler/filter mount.

The Rohm oil cooler/filter mount comes with all the mounting fasteners and fittings for oil lines.

I cleared the top of the Rohm bitchin' oil cooler/filter mounthopefully by enough to allow the pipe slip down and out of the head (I was recommended to use a CCI Filter part number 270126).I tacked the tab with a spacer between the two for some jiggle room.And I made damn sure that the pipe tab was below the frame tab. Atthe back, the muffler was fabricated the same as the other one with aslight exception.

I shaped the reversion cone the same, cut off thetouring mounts and ground the tabs. Then I used a couple of V-blocksto hold it perfectly in line for tacking the halves together. Then Isliced off the crush tabs on the front of the Samson tapered muffler.They were wider and different than the other side, so I cut them off.You'll notice the difference, if you check both side.           

The front parts of the pipe were Hooter elements and theyare smooth mandrel bent segments. I used another one for joggedstraight piece between the muffler and the head. I took the 13/4-inch exhaust to my Muffler Master bender and bent it slightly oneway, then reversed the sucka and bent it the other way. It fit like adream and looped out enough to pass the oil bag. I used Hooker headeralignment sleeves to hold the front pieces in perfect alignment. Donedeal, I tacked them, constantly comparing the level with the lift,the pipes then the muffler. After the tacking was secure, another tabwelded to the frame, avoiding the oil bag (a Lucky Devil concern,since the oil bag is rubbermounted), then all elements wererechecked, I removed both pipes and MIG welded them as complete aspossible.

Right pipe complete.

I find that MIG welding is a pain and blows holes in pipes easily.I also discovered that after I MIG weld a pipe I can flow the weldeasily with a torch and smooth out all the welds, fix holes and fillgaps. I actually found a piece of old steel rod, not much bigger thana piece of wire. I usually use old coat hanger, but it pops andwheezes from the paint coating.

After the pipes were welded, flowedand checked twice, I ground all the surfaces with an emery disc andpainted them with whatever barbecue heat paint I had laying around.The lovely Layla is currently on her way back from Home Depot withsome flat black heat paint. We'll see how that works.

          

Kent from Devil hand fabricated the seat pan, brackets andbungs. I set them up and welded the parts in place. Then it was timeto roll the bike off the lift and see how she fit and where I mightneed heat shields. I discovered a couple of things. Yes, the scootwould require left side heat shields and nothing on the right. I alsotested my notion to sculpt claws out of brass, unsuccessfully.           

I also found that the existing bars wouldn't cut it. Igrabbed the old '48 Panhead TT-bars, narrowed them by 4 inches, and Isorta like them.

Okay, so I grappled with the sculpting business fora couple of hours and discovered that I can't control the brass likeI can steel. I spoke to Kent from Lucky Devil and he recommended thatI try TIG Silicon Bronze rod. I'll try that next week. In themeantime, my first brass sculpting attempt ended up on the shop door.Let's get the hell out of here.           

I'll install the Empire internal throttle next week. It's driven on needle bearings, empiremfginc.com.

Ride forever,

–Bandit

Here we go. I’m relunctantly behind the eight ball, or more likely the 5-Ball in this case. The bike is nearly complete and I haven't caught up with the articles. For the most part I was working at Primedia on the bike mags and didn’t have time to breath. No fucking lame excuses. Let’s hit it.

My original plan called for brass sculptures to hang this bastard together in a purely Bandit way. I messed with some odd heavy brass cloverleaf rod that was over a ½ inch in diameter. I wasn’t having my usual creative luck with bending or messing with this material. Kent from Lucky Devil Metal Works in Houston recommended that I use silicone Bronze rod and I’ve since messed with it. I shifted gears from Gargoyles and sculptures to pure mechanics. I started drilling holes is everything.

I discovered a piece of ½-inch wide strap that I thought was copper. Remember that the notion behind this mess is to use as much bare metal as possible. As it turned out the strap was brass so I gave it the Scotch Brite treatment and went to work. Before I made or positioned the rear Custom Chrome chain I needed to align the wheel, the transmission and the engine. I used my BDL inner primary and pulled the loose engine and tranny into position. Then I centered my chain axle adjuster and installed the chain using the CCI instructions (above). I have an old chain breaking tool, so I took out just enough links.

With the chain in place, aligned and adjusted the wheel using the Doherty wheel spacer kit (a life saver). I couldn't mess with the requisite chain guard until all was in the correct groove. Although the Paughco custom frame is designed for a belt, I choose the old school route and it worked out well. Lots of extra space to mess with.

I dug through my drawers of tabs and crap that I’ve had around for 25 years. In the old days Mil Blair would call me from Jammer from time to time and tell me when it was time to shit-can scrap iron. I picked up tabs, spacers and brackets by the fist full and I’ve been moving them from place to place ever since. But damn, when you need a tab it’s bitchin to find just the right size in a drawer. Since I was going nuts with the drilling treatment, I matched the work on the frame with holes in the chain guard and counter sunk the edges for a more rounded look.

I also hit the top motor mount with a similar treatment. To give it a bit of consistency I measured from center to center on the holes and made all the holes the same diameter, 1/4-inch.

The hole deal became an obsession. I started drilling ¼-inch holes in everything including the Joker machine foot controls. I also went after Russell Mitchell’s Scotch Brite code. I swallowed hard and rubbed a piece of chrome with the coarse material and discovered that chrome reflects everything until it’s brushed with the wiry fabric. It gave it a raw material appearance and I decided that it was cool but a pain in the ass to do.

Again, I drilled the holes the same space apart, ¾ of an inch. It’s not always that easy, though. Sometimes the formula just doesn’t work. I use a pair of calipers to hold and mark the distance from hole center to center. If a hole ends up being located too close to an edge of the material, I back off and try another formula. Make sure to plan before you start drilling.

Here’s that damn brass stock. I was determined to have Brass, Copper, Stainless, Aluminum and a bare metal effect on the frame. You’ll see shortly how it worked out. I couldn’t bend that brass shit without destroying it, so I made the shift linkage out of it. I cut it off on a bench lathe and drilled and tapped the ends to 5/16 fine threads to fit the fine thread heim joints. Then I drilled the rod and countersunk the holes to remove the sharp edge.

Here’s one of the Joker Machine control sets, rubbed with Scotch Brite and drilled. They make fine controls, some of the best. You can adjust these puppies anyway you choose to fit your riding position, inseam or foot angle.

Before I leave this chapter I’ll touch on this new petcock from Spyke. It’s incredible, if it works well. It’s designed to give you every option for positioning and spigot direction. I ran into only one problem. No wrench lands to help tighten the bastard.

Check it out. You can run it faced in any direction and still read the switch locations and turn the knob without a lever smacking the frame and components. The spigot set allows builders to face the gas line in any direction.

I used the straight spigot and took off one of the fittings because my tank threads are female. The only problem I had was tightening it down, but I’ll get to that after the powder coating returns from Foremost Powder in Gardenia, California.

This puppy will revolutionize the industry for petcocks, if it works. I’ll let you know in a week or two.

Ride Forever,

–Bandit

This is strange. I’m writing several Sturgis Chop Techs after I returned from Sturgis. I’ll try to remedy that in the future, but we were so damn busy trying to complete the bike and run Bikernet, we didn’t keep up on the techs. Many apologies.

This piece covers the installation of the hot Speedster cap from Crime Scene Choppers in the modified stock XR 750 factory tank. Later, you’ll discover, that this highly modified, strengthened and extra rubber mounted beast was my Sturgis nemesis. But more on that later.

We added rubber-mounted bungs to the back of the tank. I moved the petcock to the rear and filled the center for a 2.76-gallon gas capacity before it hit reserve. I doubt that it contained more than a quarter tank of reserve, so I’ll toss it a 3-gallon total gas capacity.

Oh, I need to thank Cyril Huze, who designs beautiful steel tanks for the opportunity to experience an aluminum tank once more. He suggested this classic for the Sturgis effort.

Don’t ever run an Aluminum tank on a rigid frame. You’ll be asking for problems.

I’m not holding it against Cyril. He’s a master and I’m the bungler for attempting aluminum on a 93-inch rigid S&S hot rod. As you’ll see the vibration aspects came from several sources that I could have remedied. It’s all just a roll of the dice.

When I received the Speedster cap I drug the cap and tank down the street, about three doors, to Bill Hall’s Welding. He handles my aluminum welding, since I don’t have a TIG welding system. I’ve got the rest, but not TIG. I would highly suggest a TIG system for quality welding capacity and good looking welds. It’s much like welding with a torch, so you’re certain of the bead and depth of penetration.

Bill’s a retired designer who enjoys welding and fuckin’ with his customers. “How are you going to drill the hole for the bung,” he asked?

I was thinking about die-grinders and files. I knew it would make a mess. Bill hooked me up with a 3-inch hole saw. He suggested that we hit a marine store for a tapered dowel pin (used for plugging holes in the leaking hulls).

The key was to drill a perfectly centered ¼-inch hole to maintain a center approach to the cap bunghole. I drilled it and then ran the tapered wood dowel into the tank.

Then we set the tank on a pad on the drill press platform and lined up the hole saw. I used plenty of cutting oil on the edge of the blade and aluminum face to prevent the tank from snagging or catching. I knew how tender the surface of the tank was. We oiled the hole in the tapered wooden plug and carefully went to work. Bill’s formula worked like a charm.

Next, we needed a tool to hold the Crime Scene Speedster bung in place. I grabbed a piece of strap, drilled a hole or two and mounted it with the supplied hardware, which was brass. You can order the cap with several styles of fasteners for your application.

It was off to Bill’s for welding. While the gaping 3-inch hole was available I could have made a tapping tool and tapped out any imperfections in the tank walls. I dinged it way back in the beginning and never got around to fixing it. I left her be, as if it was the first injury and she needed to stay. I know it’s one of those wild superstitions.

Okay, so during the “read the directions” phase, I noticed the bit about a non-vented tank. I would need to drill a tiny, cunt-hair hole in the cap of the tank. I discovered that I actually had such a tiny fuckin’ drill and dug it out. I had to find a chuck that pinched down to that size. Then I had a wise ass notion to drill the initial hole about 1/8 inch in diameter, since drilling with hair-thin bits causes easy drill bit breaks. The thinner the surface the better.

So, I initially drilled the inside of the cap with a 1/8-inch drill and drilled right through—Bummer. Ultimately I tapped the cap with a 10-32 then drilled the stainless Allen stud with the tiny drill bit. Then I screwed the stud into place and the job was finished.

After Bill welded the bung into place it was my job to grind the welds down and ship the tank to Foremost Powder for a clear coat. I hit the big spots with a grinding tool. I tried my damnest to take only meat off the welds and not off the surrounding tanks surface.

Next I used small emery discs to carve at the aluminum bead. I also smoothed some of the welds on the front of the tank where we filled the tunnel for additional gas capacity.

This shows the different grinding phases to reach a level that’s still strong with weld bead but handsome enough to live with. This was an interesting effort, since no bondo or thick urethane would be applied, covering a myriad of mistakes. This was the final stage before clear powder from Foremost in Gardenia, California.

After this stage I polished the panels of the tank and hauled it off to the powder masters. There’s one other process I need to explain. I made every effort to clean the tank of debris and shavings. I also made sure to run a gas filter. I still had problems, which I will explain in my Sturgis Saga. They were easily remedied through Lee Chaffin at Mikuni. Just needed to dial the right number.

This shot was taken after powder and pin striping when I installed the gasket, decided which direction I wanted the cap to face and screwed the brass fasteners down. The cap worked flawlessly all the way to the Black Hills.

Brembo has a solid worldwide reputation, and I ran into a hot looking Brembo representative at an illustrious bike function and decide I’d give them a try. They’re hot and ready to rock. The only items I needed were the locking nuts for the back of the rotors bolts and the springer axle spacer. This set-up was designed for a stock springer replacement.

Because of the wild, light, taper-legged Paughco Springer my hiem joint link wasn’t long enough and I bastardized two fine bolts together temporarily. At that point I wasn’t considering a front fender. There are two aspects of chopperdom that I have a tough time working around. Bikes need front fenders and brakes. Can’t ride ‘em much without those two bastards. Even in the old days I ran front fenders, Avon Tyres and front brakes.

Chris Kallas came over at just the right moment. He’s as old at riding as I am and an artist. We’ve featured his work in special reports. He knows his bike shit and I’ve been trying to convince him to see Jim Murillo about a job. Jim has a paint shop in Torrance, but he’s not the graphics guy, Chris is.

As usual, about the time I think it’s going to be easy, the devil pops up on my shoulder. Kent, from Lucky Devil Metal Works in Houston called, “What are you going to do about a front fender,” he said? “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I’ll send you some shots of my springer front fenders.” He hung up and Chris looked at me sorta strange.

”Who the hell was that,” he said?

”Never mind,” I said flipping my computer on. Kent developed a system of mounting springer front fenders that’s clean as a whistle and odd as only the devil would make it. An engineer wrote Bikernet when I first featured his wild notion and chewed us out. “That idea’s not worth the powder the blow it to hell,” he shouted.

At first I thought he was correct, but the more I considered it, the more I determined that he was wrong. The caliper follows the line of the rotor, so the fender will follow the circumference of the Avon tire. Of course when I stepped into the ring to create a similar configuration I couldn’t do it like the Devil does. The Brembo caliper runs too far ahead of the rotor to mount the fender so we ran carefully designed struts off the brake linkage. Chris drew up the plan, then bent struts out of coat hanger for a guide.

We constantly tried fitment again and again before tacking them into place. I wouldn’t recommend this configuration to anyone. If you run struts off the caliper they’re solid. The heim joints allow the fender to fluctuate, especially side to side. I had to find a concave washer that would allow the heim joints to work up and down but not side to side.

Chris bent each rail to match in pure artistic form. Then I tacked them.

Kent built the front fender with threaded aluminum bungs underneath. I figured out some slender spacers to fit on top of the fender and tacked the rails to them. I must have welded them a dozen times trying to grab just enough rail, weld and spacer to prevent cracks.

There you have it. It’s wild, but will it last to the Badlands?

–Bandit

Click to see morefrom Lucky Devil

The old pipe to oil tank tab.

My first move began with a correction. I removed the exhaust pipe tab welded to the oil bag. The oilcan is rubber mounted, the exhaust pipe generated severe heat and the pipe system needs to be solidly mounted. It had to go. Actually Kent from Lucky Devil Metal Works in Houston tried not to mention the false move, but his frown gave it away. Or was it that question? “Is your rear pipe really mounted to the fuckin’ oil bag,” Kent said tentatively?

I discovered that the pipe exits the head close to the seat post and worked on a pipe connection there. There are a couple of rules in making pipes that I need to abide by. I needed to remove the pipe once in awhile, so I needed the pipe tab to be on the outside of the frame tab. Often mounting required slack, so I dug around for 1/16-inch washers to run between the tabs. That way when the fasteners are removed there’s some slack to pull the pipe free.

I worked with the pipe fully in place then tacked the seat post tab. Below is the tab tacked to the pipe. Then the tab welded in my shitty MIG welding fashion. I should slow down and clean the base metals more. I generally grind a bevel into the tabs for greater weld penetration. The welds are strong, just not handsome.

Next I needed to attach the Lucky Devil rear fender, align the rear wheel and cut the chain to fit. But first I needed to center the wheel in the frame, sorta. The custom Paughco frame is designed and manufactured to hold a belt pulley and a 180 Avon Tyre. That prevented me from measuring between the frame rails. I needed a straight line down the center of the frame backbone. It’s not incredibly accurate but close to draw a fabic or nylon line down the tube. Then with Doherty space kit and the seal spacers that came with the Custom Chrome aluminum and stainless spoke wheels, plus the Brembo brake caliper bracket, I aligned the wheel.

The Brembo brakes come standard with a Softail anchoring system. I had to cut the existing hiem joint tab off the frame and weld a new Softail Style tab in place. First I had to find a chunk of ¼-inch thick steel with holes in it.

This shows my spacer system with the CCI seal spacer, bevel inward toward the bearing, the Brembo caliper bracket/spacer and finished off with a Doherty spacer for a perfect fit.

Before I cut the Rev Tech chain I installed the BDL Belt inner primary and pulled the engine and transmission into place which determined exact spacing. I know I covered this aspect somewhat a couple of chapters ago. There’s been some heavy drinking in the meantime, so if I lose track, it’s on Jack.

This Paughco axle is a breeze to center. Ultimately it will be covered with a brushed aluminum Paughco oval axle cover.

I centered the wheel in the chain adjustment slot to give me slack either way. Then I finally cut the chain with a JIMS tool.

I spoke to a couple of guys about sprockets and was told that this contraption will hold a sprocket nut from coming loose better than simply Allen screws in the Custom Chrome sprocket. I may use it or not. Haven’t decided yet.

The reason this is altered is that it’s for a pulley and a different era. Add that to the fact that I flopped the dished sprocket over to space the chain away from the tire. That aspect worked perfectly.

I decided that since the tank was rubber mounted and aluminum won’t flex as well as steel that I would attempt to rubber mount aspects of rear Luck Devil fender. Kent designed and handmade the fenders to match aspects of the XR 750 tank.

Cyril Huze sent me several grommets to work from and this pair are from some late model Sportster application. I measured the O.D. on the center portion and discovered that I needed ½-inch holes in the fender which I drilled after I had mocked up the fender in place, ground a clearance strip for the chain and stood back several times. Arlen Ness once told me that he used a chain wrapped over a tire to space a fender. I needed enough space for fasteners under the fender and some chain adjustment slack either way.

Ya just never know.

I moved the fender up and back, and side-to-side several times before making any hole-drilling marks. I was a nervous wreck. Ya don’t mess with the Devil’s fender. I finally drilled a half-inch hole, and smoothed the edges, in the bottom of the fender then at the crossover tube. I worked in the rubber with a dab of oil and bolted the bottom stainless bolt in place.

The Sportster grommets have metal inserts, which make them easier to install. With a couple of spacers in place the fastener held the center tab for tacking.

This shot shows the grommet installed in the center of the fender.

Here’s that old Jammer fender tab ready to be tacked.

Here’s that rear fender in place and looking good. The rubber mounting, even if only in the front, may prevent cracks.

The tab waiting for the master welder.

Here’s where it got tricky. I’ve been bending metal with a torch for years. Never improved my technique. Just the other day, a month after I built this fender rail system, I bought a small strap or tube-bending tool. Wish I had it when I went after this project.

First I built the fender strap out of a piece of exhaust pipe bracket. It came with two 3/8-inch coarse tapped inserts in each end. My plan was to build a fender rail system with tubing so I could adapt a couple of running lights on the tips. I carefully bent and drilled the strap and fender.

Then I bent the tubing fender rails to fit over the chain and tacked tab to the Paughco frame. One item I often attempt to use is a level. I’ll level the frame from side to side, then strive to keep all the other elements level. It helps.

Again, I tacked everything just on the off-chance I might make another drastic mistake.

Here’s a perfect example. As I finished my welding chores, I got on a roll. I thought– wouldn’t it be cool to weld the fender bolts in place from the bottom. They would never come loose. Note the angle. There was no way they would ever return through their mounting locations. I was forced to grind them off and clean the holes.

Here’s the finished fender rail system. I drilled holes in the frame and the rails to run wires. I still haven’t found the perfect running light style that rocks my boat and will afford me enough room to use the proper fasteners. Hang on!

Not sure why this shot’s here? Okay, I have this thing for drilling holes. Yeah, so what?