Here's an update on the Shovelhead. I picked up the engine from Phil's Speed Shop in Anaheim. He rebuilt the battered heads and lifter stools, installed new JIMS lifters, S&S roller rockers and CCI Black Diamond Valves. He welded and repaired cracks and exhaust manifold threads. Old used Shovelheads can be fragile.

I installed studs with a mixture of liquid metal and red Loctite. I don't like screwing anything steel in and out of aluminum. It wears on the threads and stresses the weaker material. Besides, from the extreme heat expansion and contraction the threads always feel loose. So I packed 'em with liquid metal to tighten the fit and added the red Loctite to keep them from coming loose. We'll see.

I dug through my junk drawers and discovered another top motormount stud. I treated it the same as the exhaust manifold studs for a tight lasting fit, I hope. I've decided to fab shotgun pipes. The front out the left and the rear out the right and attempt to keep the lengths the same. I would like to work in some shorty mufflers for performance and sound reduction, but a couple of fish-tips caught my eye that sultry morning.

I tinkered with the studs while Layla headed to Home Depot to grab some stainless steel bolts, that I could polish, and use for the motormounts. She was going to call me from the Fastener bin. I didn't hear from here for a half-hour so I dialed her number. She forgot and was rolling up to the Bikernet gate. So I dug around through drawers to find usable bolts for the time being. That's why the spacers show up on the rear mount–it's temporary.

Rear motormount bolted into place first, for front motormount adjustment.

This one shows the gap with the rear mounts bolted down.

The old code called for bolting the rear motor mounts down first, so that if any spacing was needed to the front, it would show up. It did and I found a piece of almost 1/16-inch aluminum plate that fit perfectly. I cut it, drilled, polished the edges and slipped it into place. We'll see if it works with the BDL inner primary belt drive plate.

Ain't she sweet?

That caused another dilemma to surface. The engine is a late '70s Shovel with a early electric start, JIMS four-speed transmission case and plate. According to Kent at Lucky Devil, there's another variable lurking. I'm still having a problem finding the correct chain sprocket. As you can see this CCI job is meant for even earlier transmissions. Then I need a BDL system that will fit the engine, transmission and line up. Hold on for that one.

The stock tranny linkage cut to work as our brake linkage.

A week ago I worked on the brake controls with some success. After fabricating a mastercylinder bracket and actually drilling the holes in the proper location, it wouldn’t work. I needed to turn the master cylinder upside down. I called Frank Kaisler to confirm that it was a remote possibility, it was. I cut another chunk of steel plate, drilled the holes again and dug through drawers to find a pushrod. Nothing.

Parts and pieces we used to cobble together brake linkage.

The master cylinder in place upside down under the tranny.

The stock stainless shift rod cut for a master cylinder pushrod.

I used a stainless steel shift rod unit for lots of adjustment, but had to grind/taper the end to fit. I also used the transmission shift lever for the connection. I cut Giggie’s brake axle to length and sliced the tranny shift linkage. Then I welded the linkage to the axle. That was a mistake. I should have machined the pieces to fit together, but it will work. The other end of the linkage was the perfect mate for the shift rod I cut and fashioned for the handmade master cylinder push rod. I lucked out. I think it’s cool.

The inlet oil fitting had to be moved to make room for the brake linkage.

Here’s the tranny-gone-brake linkage welded to the brake axle.

That was last weeks endeavor. This week I stumbled. It all began with a set of exhaust I fabricated, from bits and pieces of other exhaust, for the Amazing Shrunken FXR. They worked out all right until my humble associate, Nuttboy, was assigned to grind the welds. Ya see, I held one piece of pipe against another and tacked them. The mating surfaces were not aligned perfectly, so when Nuttboy unleashed the Makita grinder to round off the welds he cut right through the pipes forming cavern-like gaps.

The pipes weren’t half bad until he destroyed them. Although, I could take a chunk of the blame.

Kustom fab uses pipe inserts to hold pipes aligned securely for welding.

I had to enlarge the slot to make the insert fit.

The insert won’t slip into place with burrs in the pipes. I had to grind them clean.

Lots of builders in the industry make their own one-off custom exhaust, so I started asking around about tools. Most don’t have tube benders, so they follow the same strict regime I did. They piece exhaust systems together using bits and chunks of other systems. One company will ship you a kit of various bends to work with. I inquired as to how shops held two chunks of tubing together in order to MIG, TIG or even gas weld pipes. The information highway opened up to me. Roger from Kustom Fab in highway takes a 1-inch section of like pipe, slices it (so the O.D. shrinks) and shoves it in one section of pipe then in the other. Simple system that adds strength but reduces the I.D.

Here’s the insert in place. It works well and adds strength but will restrict exhaust flow.

This system also makes welding easy.

Some of the junk I dug up to kick-off my pipe clamp tool experiment.

Another builder told me of a C-Clamp arrangement using angle iron to lock chunks of pipe in-line. Scott from Chica’s explained a small unique tool that pulls the segments of pipe together using feeler gauge thin material. After tack welding the pipe segment, the clamp is loosened and the feeler gauge material slips out. Irish Rich pointed out that large hose clamps and chunks of angle iron work fine to hold pipes for tacking.

This was my bullshit attempt at building this tool.

I brazed the feeler gauge to a nail and the nail to the end of the bolt.

Here’s the completed tool. It looks better than it works.

This shows the clamp in place. In order for it to work properly a notch needs to be ground in the pipe for the nail shaft, which is thicker than the feeler gauge.

The guys at Chica’s also told me about a wide stainless hose clamp with slots or holes that can be used to hold two tubes together during the tacking stage.

I found this puppy at Home Depot and thought I had hit gold.

I drilled the stainless strap with a small drill then 1/2-inch for tacking room.

Then Fab Kevin clued me into Holley, the hot rod car part builder, who makes a sleeve that holds two pipes in alignment for tacking. I looked them up on the Internet.

Our “Alignment Weld Sleeve” allows the fabricator to align, hold and weld two pieces of mild steel tube without help. Because no rod is needed, the welder has a free hand. The “Alignment Sleeve” assures a perfectly aligned joint with no weld slag inside to reduce the tube diameter and restrict air flow. Perfect alignment and just the right amount of welding material results in a very professional looking weld. Weld Sleeves are packaged 20 sleeves per bag.

See, I couldn’t find a hose clamp to do the job. I need another hardware store run.

This is where the story runs astray. I followed each veteran’s suggestion and began to fabricated every exhaust pipe alignment device known to man. I cut, brazed, hit Home Depot, bought clamps, hoses, sliced my only .013-inch feeler gauge, dug through drawers and took photos along the way. No shit, I fucked up every tool design suggested.

This is how it’s supposed to work. Unfortunately the clamp I bought was too large.

I didn’t have two hose clamps that would pull the angle iron hard against the tubing. The wide stainless clamp notion was golden, but I bought the wrong size at Home Depot. The feeler gauge routine was followed to the finish, but my tool doesn’t work without a notch snipped in the pipe. The C-clamp notion is too involved for my thinking so I decided to buy two clamps and modify them. Of course I didn’t have two spares to screw with. And finally the perfect solution from Holley was unavailable from my local auto parts store. I’m forced to buy their catalog.

This is the C-clamp notion. I’ll build it after I hit Home Depot again.

If tonight you called and offered me a cool million to build an exhaust system, I still don’t have the tools. I need to hit Home Depot again. I almost fired myself last night, but you get the idea.

–Bandit

Editor's Note: You've seen the “American Iron” feature. Chris Maida, the editor, asked us to reshoot it, but we kept the original shots near the Wilmington, Califa, Port of Los Angeles rail road tracks. Just happened that a train rolled past in the middle of the shoot. Enjoy.–Bandit

I just did the Old School bit and rode this bike to Sturgis on our Bikernet.com 2005 run from the West Coast.

I cottoned to the pure machine marquee. I didn’t plan to paint it at all, unless absolutely necessary. I wanted to leave most components unblemished metals and incorporate as many iron types (for color) into the mix as possible. I wanted this mess to contain brass, copper, aluminum, steel, and stainless. Of course the steel corrosion dilemma dictated that we use some powder coating for a protective seal. The front end came in black to avoid chrome, so I supplemented the bike with a few additional black pieces, but the frame and some others were powdered to mimic a copper patina. Some aluminum parts were clear coated to prevent complete dulling and afford an acceptable pin striping surface. Some brushwork was applied.

It started with a Shovel engine that a brother gave me with a title. I loaned him a bike when he was down. Due to family illness he was forced to sell everything. There’s nothing better than an engine with a title. I took it from there and ordered a Paughco classic frame to fit me and handle like a midnight dream. Too many choppers today look good but don’t handle worth a damn. I wanted a bike to fit, handle well on freeways, yet be light in city traffic and parking lots. I spoke to Ron Paugh at Paughco and they built me a 4-inch up, 3-inch out, 35-degree raked rigid, wide enough to handle a 180 tire.

I don’t care for wide tire, fat-assed, beachball monsters. I decided to set my limit at 180 and run an O-ring chain for the traditional look. I stuck with a Paughco front end to top off the chassis. It’s one of their new tapered leg springers, 9-inches over with three degrees of rake in the trees. It worked out to be almost 5 inches of trail and handled as light as a dirt bike.

Hand made brass alternator plug holder.

The engine had early stock heads, House of Horsepower cases and was a 105-inch stroker, too much for a rigid chassis. I wanted this bike to last, be a beater, but not be a dog. I contacted friends at S&S and they suggested 93 inches of street power for a balanced, reliable drive train. The stroke was reduced to 4.5 inch with 3 5/8 inch bore. The bike is fast but not a vibrating monster. I also spoke to Lee Chaffin at Mikuni and he suggested a 42mm, flat slide, Mikuni carb. “It will give you sharp throttle response,” he said. If I planned to run the Shovel on the salt flats he would have suggested a 45 mm venturi.

I have a couple of codes when it comes to building choppers. I like to keep them as simple as possible. On the other hand I like an oil cooler and filter to keep the drive train alive. I came across a system that bolted to the front motormount and doubled as a cooler while holding a spin-on filter (Rohm billet oil cooler mount). It was perfect. Other chopper codes include having enough taillight to prevent being run-over and enough gas to take you 100 miles before you hit reserve, or you’re looking for gas stations constantly. In this case I nearly broke the code a couple of times.

Here’s that cool oil filter/cooler mount.

The Sportster gas tank originated on the verge of being beneath the acceptable fuel capacity, 1.75 gallons. It was an old Aluminum XR 750 race tank that we heavily modified. Get this: Some aluminum tanks are against the code, they’re too weak, notorious leakers. I broke the unwritten rule because it was a factory tank—cool right? Not so. “They broke during flat track races,” Berry Wardlaw, the Boss of Accurate Engineering, said at dinner in Deadwood, South Dakota, after I welded it twice on the way to Sturgis. “They ain’t worth the powder to blow ‘em to hell.”

I put more work into that tank than the Martin Brothers pour into a set of one-off artistic sheet metal. First I added additional rubber mounted bungs to the base of the tank for added support, since I didn’t on the last Sturgis rigid. It broke twice. Because the tank would reside on a severe angle we moved the petcock to the rear, also for more fuel capacity. We drilled the tunnel and welded in a plate to allow the entire center section to augment petrol storage. Then I installed a Crime Scene speedster cap for an old school hot rod appearance.

Kent from lucky Devil Metal Works in Houston supported the aluminum theme by hand fabricating an aluminum fender to match the tank, front and rear. We scrapped the front job.

Back to the code. Remember the taillights, so a semi will at least recognize that it’s a motorcycle under his rip-roaring wheels. This is a tough one for me. I like the minimalist approach, but endeavor for some level of survival. The crew at Eye Candy Custom Cycles (.com) developed this hot looking, side-mount ’59 Cadillac taillight. I thought it was the cat’s paw and that I could mount it to glow through to both sides. I installed it to the BDL inner primary, so close and tight to the frame that no one could see it. I broke the code.

I also grappled with some elements of the wiring, but it worked out fine—that’s another story. I’ve been tinkering with bikes for 30 years, yet learned a tremendous amount with this build.

The bike continued to roll together like a dream with the Kraft Tech oil bag, hard copper oil lines, the Lucky Devil sprung seat and 5-speed Rev Tech Transmission. The wheels were Custom Chrome aluminum rims, stainless spokes and chromed steel hubs. This was the first time I ever used Brembo brakes, no problem and I’ve worked with Joker Machine controls for the last five years.

Let’s focus on mistakes I made, so you won’t make them in the future. The hard lines were cool, but I could have installed rubber hose and been finished in a half hour. Plus, since the Kraft Tech, round oil bag, was rubber mounted and the hard lines solid, the street vibration fucked with them and they cracked. I needed vibration resistant furrels. Let’s stick with the oil bag. It’s cool, solid and bolted right up, but battery choice is critical. There was very little space between the battery terminals and the frame. Ultimately, a Bikernet babe was called to the front, to stitch a rubber protective cushion to prevent shorts. That’s too close for everyday comfort.

I broke in the bike using the Eddie Trotta formula for success, but missed one element, high-speed interstate travel. If I had put a few miles on the bike at 80 mph, which is against the break-in code, of 55 or less, I would have noticed the severe gearing. That’s where I went wrong. I started with a JIMS 6-speed and stock gearing. Then I discovered that the new Starter system from Compufire, that runs off the engine, wouldn’t be available for Sturgis, so I had to punt. I mounted the Dyna coils under the oil tank, which prevented a standard Compu-fire starter from being installed quick. A kicker was the answer. It fit with my hand made exhaust system using modified Samson mufflers, but I was forced to shift back to a Rev Tech 5-Speed transmission, because I needed the kicker. I should have considered a gear change at that point, but didn’t.

So what happened on the 1500-mile trek to the Badlands? The bike ran like a raped ape, strong and true. The handling was superb, everything remained in place except for the bullshit running lights I attempted to use for more visibility. They vibrated, spun, popped the bulbs and tore at the wires running through the fender rails. The ragged glitch in the road was the gearing. I ultimately replaced the running lights with these no-count reflectors and a H-D teardrop turnsignal under the right muffler.

Draining gas at first breakdown location, alongside the 10 freeway.

The bike clocked 300 miles before I left town. Another 200 miles down the road toward Arizona, it had the mileage numbers to afford me enough break-in miles to drop the hammer and let her fly. At 90 mph I peeled past big rigs on Interstate10 heading out of the vast Los Angeles plague of concrete and stucco homes reaching dangerously close to the Arizona border. Crossing the state line, into the helmet-free state, I felt relieved to experience 100 degrees in the open desert flying toward Phoenix, another blight of concrete and southwestern architecture. I sensed the buzz in the frame and handlebar grips through Custom Cycle Engineering rubber mounted risers. The Shovel was over-revving and I needed that 6th gear release from extensive vibration, but I kept pushing for the love of speed, a light 520-pound, 93-inch chopper can deliver. She sliced the open road like a high-speed rotary knife through French bread.

I was beginning to buzz my feet off the Joker Machine pegs and adjusted them at the next stop. Rubber inserts on rigid pegs are mandatory, but I flaunted that rule with impunity. Just 60 miles out of Phoenix with the temps cresting 104 degrees and our group, of a half dozen, barreling along at over 90, the Sturgis Shovel quit, pure dead in the fast lane. I reached for the plug wires, then the ignition key that hovered less than a ½-inch from the whirling BDL belt drive. Better not go there, I thought as I signaled to lean right into the slow lane then onto the rough texture of the emergency lane where my baby came to a stop. That’s when I noticed the terrible, over-flowing gas leak at the back of the tank, all over the rear head.

As if the devil knew, one more mile and I would burst into flames in the middle of the searing desert. He flipped my ignition off. I never found an electrical problem or mechanical woe. She turned herself off because the vibration had taken its toll on the aluminum tank.

Loading the chopper in the desert for the repair run to Phoenix.

The next morning I was back on the road after Nick and Charlie at Custom Performance, (Turbo builders for Harleys, in Phoenix), had my tank rewelded and Nick recommended larger, softer rubber mounts. We were back on the road, where I took care of the beast for the rest of the run to Sturgis (kept my speed down), or until I could change the gearing. As it turned out, as I pulled into Deadwood, gas dripped onto that rear plug again. Bad news. There are codes and builders who know which ones can be broken—none. You can check the entire Sturgis Shovel Project build in our Bikernet Tech Department. The tank was repaired in Rapid City, but just two weeks ago I was forced to have it welded for the third time in Los Angeles. When will I learn?

Ride Forever,

–Bandit

Sturgis Shovel Tech Sheet

Owner: K. Randall “Bandit” Ball
Home: Wilmington, California
Builder: Bikernet.com
Year/model: 1956 Sturgis Shovel
Time to Build: 9 months
Color: Shit brown

Engine/Transmission

Year/Model: 2005 S&S
Builder: Richard Kransler, Phil’s Speed Shop, and S&S
Displacement: 93 inches
Cases: House of Horsepower
Flywheels: S&S side-winder
Balancing: S&S, 1300 Bob weight
Connecting rods: S&S
Cylinders: S&S with longer skirts
Pistons: S&S forged, 8.2:1 compression
Heads: 1966 Shovelhead by Phil’s Speed
Cam: S&S
Valves: Black Diamond
Rockers: S&S rollers
Lifters: Custom Chrome
Pushrods: Custom Chrome

Carb: 42 mm Mikuni
Air Cleaner: Fantasy in Iron

Exhaust: Bandit and Samson
Ignition: Compu-fire, single fire
Charging: Compu-fire
Oil Pump: S&S

Transmission

Year/model: 2005 Rev Tech, 5-speed with kicker
Case: Rev Tech
Gears: Rev Tech
Clutch: BDL
Primary Drive: BDL open belt
Kick Starter: Rev Tech

Chassis

Frame: Paughco Chopper
Rake: 35 degrees
Stretch: 3-out, 4-up
Front Forks: Paughco tapered-leg springer
Swingarm: none
Rear shocks: nope

Front Wheel: 21-inch Custom Chrome
Rear Wheel: 18-inch Custom Chrome
Front Brake: Brembo Caliper and Springer Bracket
Rear Brake: Brembo Caliper and Softail Bracket
Front Tire: 21 Avon
Rear Tire: 18/180 Avon Venom
Rear Fender: Kent Weeks
Fender struts: Bandit

Headlight: Custom Chrome
Taillight: Eye Candy Custom Cycles
Fuel Tank: Aluminum 750 XR
Oil Tank: Kraft Tech
Handlebars: Custom Chrome narrowed
Risers: Custom Cycle Engineering dog bones
Seat: Lucky Devil Metal Works
License Bracket: Eye Candy Custom Cycles
Handlebar controls: Joker Machine
Foot Controls: Joker Machine

Gotta honor my bike feature with a Redhead!

Not long ago an issue of American Rider was devoted to lowered models contrived for shorter more compact riders. It was natural to feature a custom devoted to the tight-is-right crowd. In a custom world gone nuts with bigger, stretched, wider, fatter and pumped up motorcycles it was a lengthy chore for Buzz Buzzelli to find a bike designed for a concise, agile enthusiast. But fortunately after long arduous months, digging through one sordid garage after another, he discovered the only majestic model of it’s kind on the planet, the Bikernet.com Amazing Shrunken FXR. It was right in our own back yard. All he had to do was call me.

The bike was built by K. Randall Ball, of Bikernet and a writer for American Rider (the entire series of build stories are archived in the Bikernet Tech Area). “I generally build a bike every year to ride to Sturgis,” Ball said,

 

“Since I was banned from entering the Badlands, I built something I couldn’t ride.

I’m too tall at 6’5″.” Pissed at the nasty notion that he couldn’t fly along desert highways into the red rock of Wyoming to sweep his same-time-next-year girl into his arms, he moved to build a dinky custom.

The bike was built to enhance the Rev Tech, 88-inch V-twin drive train and become the anti-big-bike representative. “So many bikes are long and fat, we decided to haul ass in the other direction.” There’s nothing like a small, tight custom bike, like Chica or the Zero guys build in Japan.

“We wanted to go in all different directions,” Ball added, “small rear wheel, black and chrome engine, no stretch and no passenger carrying elements.”

The Kenny Boyce Pro Street frame was modified by Dr. John in Anaheim, California. “The neck was dropped and shoved back toward the engine almost six inches,” Ball said. “We cut two inches out of the Pro Street swingarm and shaved off and tapered the fender struts.

In the process several talented sources were utilized to create the design and components. “We relied on Cyril Huze for most of the sheet metal,” Ball added. The rear fender originated as a Fatboy front fender modified to ride the swingarm as a unified component with the ability to remove it for repairs. The Bikernet crew including Dr. Terry the mad grinder bitch roughed out fender rails, sliced the Cyril Huze tank, modified the seat pan and nearly destroyed the Huze front bender. “He ain’t no Jesse James,” Ball said.

“A Hamster came to our rescue,” Ball said. There’s a talented worldwide group of builders called the Hamsters and one owns a structural steel shed in Harbor City, California. James Famighetti, who works I-beam forms for buildings, with his Brother Larry is actually incredibly talented with sheet metal and fabrication projects since both brothers ride with the group. “James took every bastardized element we created including the tank, front fender, rear fender rails, oil tank and seat pan and hand-formed them into works of art,” said Ball.

Electronically the bike took on the simplest form with the assistance of Giggie from Compu-Fire. “We installed a Compu-Fire charging system, starting assemblage and single fire ignition combination. Then we mated all the electronics around the Custom Chrome top motormount. Giggie also used the Compu-Fire machine shop to fabricated the mid controls for an even more compact motorcycle. Recently Giggie took his talents to the Rivera R&D department.

The final details included LePera’s seat upholstery, Harold Ponteralli’s teardrop paint scheme, crazy John’s machine tooled CCI brake calipers, Performance machine wheels with a 90/90/18 in front and a 150/70/18 Avon in the rear.

When completed and Buster hauled ass down the street the bike was trimmed of all frame elements on the downtubes and along the bottom of the frame on the right side to reveal the entire Rev Tech drive line. On the left only a Custom Chrome chromed, welded-on kickstand interrupts the frame flow around the BDL belt primary drive system. The pipes were hand made in the Bikernet Headquarters and only sprayed with flat black heat paint. The Front end is 39 mm narrow glide enhanced with black powder-coating and Joker machine trees and controls.

“I remember the first exhaust system,” Ball said, “and the sparks flying around the shop. While I wrenched Nuttboy, who is a college professor, ground the welds. Complacent, I twisted bolts and worked on the bike as hours passed.”

 

Like some psychedelic fantasy the sparks mesmerized the doctor and the harsh Makita cut through the exhaust system until large gaping holes emerged.

“We tossed those pipes in the trash and started over,” Ball added. “Dr. Terry was banned from the grinder.”

Okay, a short rider stock to custom comparison is in order. The seat height is 23 inches compared to the Softail Deluxe at 24.5 inches, the Buell CG at 28.5 inches, Dyna Low Rider at 25.5 inches and the new 883L at 26 inches. Overall length even with 38 degrees in the neck was 86 inches compared to the Sportster’s 90.3 inches, Dyna at 94 inches, the Softail’s 94.7 and the Buell Lightning series kicked the FXR’s ass with 76.2 inches.

 

There you have it. The Amazing Shrunken FXR built for the trim and lean rider who wants class, tight ride. It’s for sale (310) 830-0630

 

Specifications

Owner: K. Randall Ball, Bikernet.com
Where: Wilmington, California

Builders: Owner, Dr. Ladd Terry
Year and Model: 2004 Amazing Shrunken FXR
Fabrication: Owner/James Famighetti
Chrome: Long Beach Plating, Long Beach, California
Paint: Harold Pontarelli, H-D Performance, Vacaville, California and
Henry Figueroa (frame), San Pedro, California
Powder coating: Custom Powder Coating, Dallas, Texas
Color: Black with emerald tear drops

 

Engine:

Year and model: 2003 Black and Chrome Rev Tech from Custom Chrome
Displacement: 88 cubic inches
Cases: Rev Tech
Flyweels: forged 4 1/4-inch stroke Rev Tech
Cylinders: Rev Tech
Pistons: forged 3 5/8-inch Rev Tech
Heads: Rev Tech
Cam: Andrews EV38
Valves: Nitrided stainless Rev Tech
Lifters: S&S solids kit
Oil Pump: Polished oil regulated Rev Tech
Heads: High flow Rev Tech
Carb: 45 mm Mikuni
Air Cleaner: Fantasy In Iron, Denver, Colorado
Exhaust: Hand made by Bandit
Ignition: Compu Fire single fire
Coils: Dual Dynas from Custom Chrome
Coil bracket: Custom Chrome with CCI ignition/starter switch
Transmission: 6-speed overdrive Rev Tech
Clutch: BDL
Primary Drive: BDL 3 inch belt
Final Drive: Custom Chrome belt
Rear Pulley: Custom Chrome Billet
Front Motormount: Billet by Paul Yaffee

 

Chassis:

Frame: Kenny Boyce Pro Street
Modifications: Neck cut and set back 4 inches
Rake: 38 degrees
Swingarm: Shortened 2 inches with CCI stainless axle plates
Front Forks: Joker Machine narrow glide
Risers: Custom Chrome
Rear Shocks: Short Progressive Suspension from CCI
Front Fender: Cyril Huze
Oil Tank: Cyril Huze
Gas tank: Cyril Huze modified by James Famaghetti
Rear Fender: Modified Fat Boy by Bandit
Hydraulic Lines: Good Ridge
Wheels: Performance Machine
Tires: front Avon 90/90/18, rear Avon 150/70/18
Brakes: Billet-6 piston from Custom Chrome engine turned by Crazy John
Brake rotors: H-D

 

Accessories:

Headlight: Custom Chrome
Taillight: Aeromach
Handlebars: Custom Chrome
Seat: Custom Le Pera
Speedo: None
Hand Controls: Joker Machine
Mirror: Aeromach
Foot controls: Handmade by Giggie at Compu-Fire
Pegs: Chrome Spur from Custom Chrome

 

 

Electrics:

Ignitions Switch: Bob McKay at CCI
Starter: Compu-Fire
Regulator: Compu-Fire
Alternator: Compu-Fire
Wiring: By Bandit

It's resting on the tail end of June and I'm riding to Sturgis on 27th of July. I'm burnin' daylight. Assembly will begin this 4th of July weekend, if I don't party the whole weekend away. This tech will take you through all the final preparations for shipment to paint, since I'm avoiding chrome. In this case, we're hauling down this old school road with only flat powder coating and pinstriping from George the Wild Brush.

No bondo, hand-rubbed lacquer, heavy clear coats, just some pinstriping and graphics from the master will insure this vintage Factory Racer peels to the badlands. Let's kick this tech square in the ass with the basics. We will cover an Exile rear brake mounting, Paughco footboard bracket gussets, welded pipes, final mods to gas tanks, fork stops, LA ChopRods wiring guides, and some fender-wiring guides.

This is the stage of bike-building that's frustrating. It's the notorious time of little bullshit obstacles hindering progress at every turn. I need to clean and seal the tanks. I must hunt down a couple of vintage parts and FlatheadFern.com is helping. I need the parts painted before I can begin my Phil's Speed Shop wiring, but I need to relax. It will all come together, I say, brimming with confidence as I drink more whiskey.

Let's get movin', so I can figure out what I'm missing as the weeks peel by, like deadlines to a Times sports writer. First, we installed the Exile black sprocket brake kit with a 48-tooth highly polished sprocket for the proper gearing.

Amazing, they didn't roll under the lift. Wait, one is missing.

I dropped the special, chromed 7/16-inch supplied flathead screws on the deck. I bolted up the sprocket and prayed for alignment with the JIMS transmission sprocket, which was a ¼-inch offset. They distribute a number of trans sprockets with a variety of gearing and offsets from zip to 1 inch. I ordered another JIMS sprocket with ½ inch, since I feel it will afford me perfect alignment position. We'll see.

Russell Mitchell mentions in his Exile directions to consider a spacer between the hub and the Sprotor for alignment or tire clearance. The Black Bike wheel spacing seemed to be very cool.Next, Exile recommended machining the axle spacers so when the caliper and the bracket are installed and the axle nut is tightened, the caliper can run centered over the Sprotor.

I didn't want to machine the spacer and make it dangerously thin, so we bored out the caliper bracket.

I bored out the caliper bracket to allow it to float into the proper position over the axle spacer. Then I positioned the steel anchor tab against the frame. Exile supplied a fastener and a spacer for mounting, but I was able to weld the tab on the inside of the frame, very close to the caliper, which had its drawbacks. I also made sure there was some space and some chain adjustment space, so I wouldn't be caught without adjustment flexibility.

Russell made certain to point out that the tab needed to be absolutely parallel to the caliper, or braking efficiency will be hindered. He also pointed out the need to bleed the caliper before it was installed, but lifting it, so air could escape. I often take a file and slip it between the pads, to mirror the rotor surface. We'll get to bleeding over the weekend, I hope.

I'm having a problem with my shop camera. Can't be operator error…

That's better.

Moving right along, I spoke to Gard Hollinger like a panhandler at a coin convention. He offered a couple of his cable guide bungs for the project and I took him up on the notion. The code is to build a bike without using tie-wraps.

This LA ChopRods bung was going to work perfectly to connect the spare handlebar gas tank to the Paughco flatsided jobs.

Here's the patch for the tanks, to allow for simple fork stops.

With the tank cut away, I had room for stops.

With Gard's bung welded in place I can run a line from the handlebars to the spare gas tank. It's gonna be interesting.

This is the bottom of the spare gas tank. I used another ChopRods bung to hold the line when it's not in use. The good Dr. Hamster brought me a quick-release in-line fitting.

Gard makes a terrific product line of cable guides, tank bungs, and wiring loom guides. I crept through his shop slipping this guide and that runner into my pocket, and then I slithered out the back door.

Gard's cable runner and a standard tab.

finished final speedo cable runner.

Some of Gard's hose or loom runners.

I made fender wire loom guides with thin tubing and welded them into place.

Guides tacked into place, spaced evenly and aligned, I hope.

Hope I remembered all the needed wiring loom runners.

I made a final speedo guide runner and tried to figure out my wiring system with the Phil's Speed Shop wiring harness. I tacked several loom runners and made some tubing runners for the fender.

Then I moved onto installing the new and improved LA ChopRods internal throttle. They simplify handlebars and since no clutch lever was in the mix, my bars were destined for cleanliness. Gard, the boss of La ChopRods, the designer, welder, and janitor, went out of his way to redesign the LA ChopRods internal throttle with builders in mind. It has double bearings that won't fall out during installation. All the measurements were clean and simple, such as you cut a simple 4 inches off the bar and drill a tiny 9/64-inch hole just 1.5 inches in from the end and tap it to 8-32 thread. It was finished in a hot flash. I used an emery grinder on the inside of the bars to allow the internal throttle to slip in easy.

The first hole drilled for the internal cable exit. I made in larger and rounded the edges with a Dremel tool.

You can order the throttle cable from LA ChopRods. They recommend a Barnett 6B or similar universal throttle cable. They sell them in black vinyl or clear-coated stainless steel braid. In case I'm too harried to shoot the assembly, Gard suggests that the adjuster be collapsed and the cable installed in the carb first. He pointed out that the inner cable needed to protrude 1 11/16 inches beyond the outer cable.

I'll run my front brake lever clamp over this Allen set screw, and it can't escape.

Insert it into your bars and out the right end. Remove the screws holding the bearings in place and disassemble the ChopRods internal throttle. Gard designed a 3/4-inch brass sleeve to grab the internal cable and not damage it. In the past, I was concerned about screws coming loose and finding myself alongside the freeway. It happened to me on my way to the Exile open house. Gard made sure all the fasteners have no place to escape. And the handlebar fastener can be secured by running my GMA front brake lever clamp over the Allen 8-32 set screw. Done deal.

I think I'm going to seal the pipes with Kreem sealer just to be on the safe side.

Shortly before teardown.

I ripped the Factory Racer apart after thoroughly thinking through the oil line placement, wiring, brake lines, and battery cables. I made a throttle guide and guesstimated it the best I could. With the bike in pieces, I finish-welded all the tabs and bungs in my sloppy MIG welding fashion. I drilled the frame for fork stops and busted the fender tab off the Paughco battery box. Positioned too close to the battery, I made another tab and welded it 3/16-inch closer to the fender. The head of the fastener won't rub against the battery. So far, it's the only item I forgot to weld completely. I missed the inside weld. Not sure what I will do, maybe panic. Maybe I'll grind away the fine Worco Powder Coating and weld it anyway. Or perhaps I'll just go for it.

I made a support gusset for the Paughco footboard bracket. This was a prototype for mounting footboards to the new Factory Racer frame.

This is a shot of the bracket with the gussets welded between the motormount and the mounting arms. Should be seriously strong.

Don't forget to take shots of the parts going to powder. I took a print out to Tony Pisano of Worco Powder Coating, so he could keep track of what was being painted what.

In the next couple of weeks, I'll deliver on the Baker kicker system installation. What a fine piece this puppy is. Then you'll witness George “the Wild Brush” pinstriping various components and final assemble. Of course, you'll also experience the ride to Sturgis. Hang on.

I'm using standard brass fittings for the hoses. The nipples shown here were designed to be used without clamps. I decided, since I will use clamps and take the lines off and on, to trade these in for the regular jobs.

Every custom motorcycle build is an adventure. It takes me from one crazed time in my wild life to another. Fortunately, I'm not spilling my guts about another woman I lost during a knuckle-busting build. But this build did represent turning points. I'm about to step off into my 62nd year and sign up for Social Security. It also represented our stinky economy, and for the first time I pulled the plug on riding this bike to Sturgis.

Imagine for a second, the middle of July. Days were long and hot, and the Bikernet shop boiled with activity. The Sturgis deadline was fast approaching. I needed to plan stops, hotels, food funds and a place to stay in the Badlands. Then suddenly we were forced to shift gears. Actually, we took the planning process out of gear. One day, I scrambled for the finish line; the next I coasted. I couldn't find the stress switch for a week and relieve the pressure.

Most of my parts were baking in the Tony Pisano, Worco powder-coating ovens. It took me a week to realize the Sturgis Rally would survive without me, and I could relax. I was no longer under the gun to finish this build and risk my life riding an untested motorcycle halfway across the nation. Then it dawned on my feeble brain. I had a terrific opportunity to finish this bike and test it for a year before riding into the Mojave Desert and across several Indian reservations. Plus, I could kick back and enjoy the summer, pressure- free. I bought an ice-cold six-pack of Coronas, a couple of fresh limes and grabbed a sun tan. Not bad.

I didn't slip the sheet under the frame for the photo. I did it to protect the powder on the bottom of the frame.

Tony is a pro powder-coater of the finest order and knows what it takes to tape off motor mounting plates and plug threaded holes. He saved long days under a grinding wheel. The powder work came out supreme. This year I tried something new. I powdered even the sheet metal, then asked a pro to paint panels on the tank and a flat black stripe down the Chica rear fender. He handled that aspect in a flash. Then I turned the job over to George the Wild Brush for the 5-Ball Racing logo on the tanks and pin-striping.

George drives around Los Angeles in an old Toyota truck with a camper shell, the home of paint headquarters. He folds down the tailgate, uncovers his vast, dripping assortment of paint and goes to work. He's old school to the bone. He pinstriped the giants' drag race funny cars in the '70s.

Here's where my fuck-ups began to surface. After the tanks were powder-coated, I decided to test them for leaks. I had planned to coat them with a sealer, and received Kreem tank sealer from Bikers Choice.

Here's the quandary: You can't seal tanks and then have them powder-coated. It might all go to hell in 400 degree ovens. So I held off. Then I decided to hit a local radiator shop for the test. We discovered one small leak where I welded in a rubber-mounting bung in the bottom. I ground it clear of paint and re-welded it. No problem. The painter touched it up for me. It was on the bottom of the tank and I was good to go. I thought.

Next blunder: Instead of pressure-testing my handmade exhaust system, I decided to try another sealant available from Kreem and Bikers Choice. It's blue madness and can only be used on new pipes. I followed the directions, but it's a messy operation, and of course, I attempted this process for the first time, after I painted the pipes. What did I learn from these hiccups? Test tanks and pipes before you coat them with anything, period.

The first item to be installed was the new Paughco narrow, taper-legged springer front end. It slid right into place. If only I had four arms when I'm working in the shop alone. The front end already had the 23-inch Black Bike Wheel installed with a special Avon Tyre. I just needed to grapple with the front end, fasteners, bearings and top crown. No problem. I also installed the GMA front brake bracket and spaced the front wheel for the 14th time. It's a tight fit, and I need something art deco to mount on the front of the bracket. GMA, now owned by BDL, only builds a springer front brake bracket for the right side. I was forced to flip this one over. I could have machined the leading lip off, but I decided it could be used for some unique reflector, or quirky hood ornament. We'll see.

When I disassembled the bike, I carefully collected all the parts on this table. I also zip-locked all my fasteners and wrote their job descriptions on the back of each card. That was seriously helpful during assembly. Next, I dropped the Crazy Horse 100-inch engine in the Paughco frame, with the JIM's transmission and the Baker kicker system installed. Since the chain ran against a portion of the frame, I ordered a ½-inch 24-tooth tranny sprocket from JIMS and installed it with this special JIMS nut, designed with a built-in locking device. Unfortunately, no matter what I did, the holes wouldn't line up, so I safety wired the nut to the sprocket to prevent it from backing out.

Then I faced one of the toughest assembly jobs, installing the Spyke alternator stator plug in the right engine case. It's easy and difficult at the same time. This time, I smeared the tunnel and the plug with Never Seize and tried to push the plug through the case tunnel. I also carefully backed out the set-screw and scraped any burrs of the case edges. That didn't help, but I ultimately wrestled it into place. I'm always careful of electrical connections, wiring, proper grounds, etc. Nothing leaves us alongside the road more often than electrical problems. So, I don't like pushing and prodding charging components.

Once the stator was in place, I used self-locking fasteners from Harley-Davidson to fasten it down. Spyke is careful to supply all the proper assembly instructions, but it's always tough with aftermarket engines. Because it was somewhat of a guessing game, I installed the Spyke rotor a couple of times to make sure all the clearances were proper. Then I could move onto driveline alignment and the installation of the BDL narrow enclosed belt drive system.

When you order a BDL belt drive there's a series of offsets available. Make sure you order the correct one.

I've worked with BDL components for at least 15 years. They are solid as a rock. I used the inner primary to pull the engine and transmission into alignment. I left both major components loose in the frame until I pulled it up tight with the inner primary. Don't forget the John Reed Code. I use Never Seize on all bolts rolling into soft aluminum. John warned about damaging porous aluminum threads by running hardened steel against them over and over. Never Seize allows them to glide in and out of the cases without stress or abrasion.

With the driveline aligned, I tightened down the rear engine mounts and then checked the front ones for gaps. I shimmed the front motor mount perfectly, then tightened it down.

The trans in this position seems odd, kicked up in the front, but installing these shims, makes the whole driveline run cleaner and reduces wear and tear. Phil Ross, who passed the other day, explained all of this to me in the mid '70s when he helped me install my first SuperMax belt drive.

Next, I focused on the transmission. The Paughco mounting plate was tight and the JIMS trans case was fine in the rear, but slightly elevated in the front. I dug around until I found the correct shim washers and drove them under the trans and around the front tranny studs. It's key to go through these motions for proper alignment and to save problems with the belt. It's surprising how easy the BDL system slips together if the driveline is aligned.

That mainshaft thread (in the center of the clutch) has left-handed threads.

The engine nut has standard threads. There's on thing to look out for. Sometimes the nut runs out of threads before it's tight. Make sure to check it, or everything runs loose.

I followed the BDL instructions and bolted the engine shaft insert to the pulley then drove in the alignment pins and tightened down the Allen fasteners. I pulled the pressure plate pins out of the clutch and removed the clutch plates. With the clutch hub and the engine pulley holding the belt, I carefully slipped them on simultaneously. I attached the left-handed clutch nut and tightened it with an impact gun. I did the same with the engine main shaft nut. I turned over the engine and checked belt alignment and pulley alignment. I spaced out the front pulley slightly with a shim and was good to go.

BDL TECHNICIAN NOTE:I received a call from BDL, “You fucked up, Bandit,” Dan said. He pointed out how I didn't mention using Loctite on the transmission mainshaft splines when I installed the clutch basket. “That's more important than many folks realize,” he said. Vibration from the spines can tear up the basket splines and ultimately the clutch plates.

I generally don't Loctite the mainshaft splines until the bike is tried and true, encase I need to remove the clutch. “Harbor Freight sells a cheap vintage steering wheel puller,” Dan said. “They work like a champ for pulling BDL clutches. If a hub is too tight a little heat does the trick, melts the Loctite.”

It's the gap between the pinion gear and the ring gear that causes concern.

With the clutch back in place and all the elements tightened down I installed the Spyke starter and pinion shaft. Giggie, who just passed away the other day, told me years ago, how to check the spacing. To keep the starter strong and not fuck with the ring gear, the starter gear should rest about 0.150 back from the ring gear. Too close and it doesn't have the space to begin turning and jams against the ring gear. Too far receded and it won't make good solid teeth contact.

With the primary almost buttoned up, I moved to the LA Chop Rods new-fangled internal throttle installation. Internal throttles are cool but precarious. If a bike stumbles and falls over, the first damage is generally to the bars. It's easy to replace an external throttle or a grip. But what the hell. We're not building a bike to fall down.

About this time, the Sturgis event hit the summer calendar, and folks arrived from Australia for the ride. Doc from Heavy Duty Magazine, in Australia, picked up a Victory for the run. Nicole Brosing, an Australian tattoo artist, flew to the coast, rented the same Road King she rode last year, grabbed her girlfriend and split north to San Francisco then east to the Badlands.

Gard, of LA Chop Rods, designed his sharp internal throttle system with dual bearings for a smooth roll-on. He also designed it to be easy to measure and install.

See the brass sleeve? It makes clamping more secure and won't damage the actual cable. I have a distinct tendency to damage everything.

I wrenched in the shop, drank Coronas, smiled and caught a sun tan. Gard Hollinger from LA Chop rods slapped extra engineering into his internal throttle system. His instructions were detailed, but I was still nervous as I attempted to determine the proper length. It's always a sharp notion to take the bike off the lift so the bars can rotate for testing the overall length. It's actually a breeze to install, although I honed out the bars slightly, for an easy slip. Gard devised the cable lock-down with a brass sleeve to prevent damage to the internal cable and afford a solid grip for the set screw. This throttle, with extra bearings, is smooth as silk.

Then I turned to the classic spark plug wires from Low Brow. This is a cool system and adds class to any ride. They come in a kit form with all the elements needed, except a roll of solder, flux, and a gun. It was a simple operation, but I actually mounted the coil a tad on the tight side to the underside of the tank. Fortunately it all fit. Make sure to slip the boots onto the wires before you solder the brass fittings into place. Lowbrow attaches the other ends before shipment.

I simply attached the spark plug wire to the spark plugs, ran the lines out of harm's way to the coil, added an inch for safety, cut the wires, trimmed them back for soldering, and crimped and soldered the fittings into place. Frank Kaisler told me to make sure to wipe all the flux off after soldering. So I did as Commander Kaisler instructed. He uses alcohol or solvent to clean the area, preventing future corrosion.

I took a day off to help Nyla's brother, Brad, build some diesel motor mounts for their 32-foot Cho Lee motor sailing vessel. They were smack in the middle of a complete restoration. It's a beautiful boat. I've sailed it to Catalina Island several times, when it belonged to an old friend of mine. Another deadline loomed. Less than a week away, the Easyriders Bike Show would rock the Broken Spoke Saloon in Sturgis. Bikernet sponsors the Panhead Class each year and I needed to create the trophy. Panhead Billy won the award. When I can reach him, we will feature his classic rat pan.

Custom finish handled by Jim Murillo, with the Rollin Sixes ultimate green flake.

Click on this image to see Phil's product line.

I shifted to the wiring. I used Phil's Speed Shop wiring system. It's designed for lots of custom applications and makes wiring a breeze. He includes instructions and a wiring diagram. The billet chromed box includes the ignition switch, the high-low beam switch, circuit breakers, starter relay, neutral light and starter button. I just ran the wires, used my Frank Kaisler soldering tool and ran the wires through the old H-D soaked canvas loom. I know that's not the correct term for it, but it's a close description.

I made two of these special tools, one wide and one narrow, for tight spots.

I ran into one problem that held me up for weeks. I like the CrazyHorse bottle cap engines. They offer three ignition alternatives. First, the original Thunderheart unit, an adjustable timing Thunderheart, and finally a cone motor system. Unfortunately, they don't tell you enough about the stock system. I thought it was like a Compu-Fire system in the cone. It's a one piece unit. I reached out to other Crazy Horse engine builders who told me I needed a Thunderheart ignition module. So, I ordered the system from Thunderheart, but when it arrived it didn't jive with any wiring diagram I received from Thunderheart or Crazy Horse. It was a riot. Every time I received a wiring diagram or a box from Thunderheart, I thought I was good to go. Then some goddamn thing wouldn’t match, and everyone had split to the Badlands. I paced the garage waiting for answers.

The Thunderheart tech guru sobered up after a week in the Broken Spoke swimming pool, doing belly shots with the lovely waitresses. He dropped me a simple e-mail: “There's only three wires goddamnit, black for ground, red for ignition and green to the coil. Go for a ride.”

That solved that mysterious issue and I moved on. Three more puzzling obstacles surfaced. I cleaned the Paughco oil tank with solvent and small nuts and bolts. I counted the fasteners before I slipped them into the tank. It was sorta rusty, and I didn't want to roll without cleaning it. I poured a cup of oil in it and flushed it out. I hooked up the oil lines, and Crazy Horse sent me very specific instructions, but this will blow your mind. I couldn't figure out venting. I'll get back to that.

I hooked up my gas lines. I filled the tanks and one leaked. I threatened to fire myself on the spot and another challenge surfaced. The pinhole at the front of the tank, where I cut away a section to allow for fork stops, stuck out like a sore thumb. It was obvious, but we didn't spot it during testing. I called Jim Murillo, a professional painter and cried for assistance.

“Don't use Kreem, it peels,” he said. “Use Casewell two-part Phenol Lovolac System.”

I ordered some and their customer service was supreme for a small $36 order. Some companies get it, when it comes to taking care of customers. This is where tank seals become terrifying. I needed to kick my ass into the middle of tomorrow. Make sure your tanks are sealed before any finish is applied, including powder coating. I suppose I was over confident. What the hell.

We took a break to work with Frank at Nino 925 to remake my old wheel ring. They're now for sale.

The directions called for cleaning the tanks with lacquer thinner, nuts and bolts, sand, you name it. I tried the lacquer thinner and immediately fucked with George's pinstriping. I called him, panicked and drank whiskey heavily. Fortunately a Bikernet reader shipped me a fresh bottle of Bulliet Whiskey, and Dusty, one of the 5-Ball Racing Team Salt Flat members, hand-stripped several pounds of walnuts and shipped them out.

Incredible. I let the tank dry thoroughly, made up a small portion of the Casewell sealrant and poured it into the tank. I knew where the hole was, and fortunately it rested in an easy-to-reach corner. I tilted the tank in the sun and returned to the whiskey. George saved my ass once more.

With the tanks fixed and returned to the bike, all was well, and I put a key to the Phil's ignition switch for the first time. Here's another quirk. Crazy Horse doesn't tell you how to time your new 100-inch engine. It times itself. The bike didn't whine, growl, spit or cough. It fired immediately to life and purred. I checked the oil pressure, perfect. Then I unscrewed the cap off the oil bag to make sure the lubricant returned to the oil bag properly. Yep, it was returning, but the cap popped off into my hand. I wondered about venting. Everything was fine except for pressure in the oil bag.

Again, I started a research project. The Crazy Horse installation material didn't mention a crankcase vent and I searched the engine. There are two 3/8-inch spigots between the heads, as if for a cross-over oil line. As it turns out they are designed as vents. I found out from Dar at Brass Balls that they just run a line under their gas tanks. I pulled one end, no oil flow. It had to be the vent, so I improvised and used another old machinery oil fitting to hold a screen to prevent crap from strolling back into the precious engine.

Duane is a helluva good guy, hardworking and talented. In the past he helped with seats for our Bonneville bike, but this one didn't work.

That solved that issue. I was ready to rock, but my seat hadn't arrived from Duane Ballard. It was a wild old sprung BMW seat he scored. When it finally arrived, it didn't fit. It was too high and too far back. I was faced with another quandary. If I moved the bars, I could barely place my boots on the footboards. I scratched my beard, looked at the box of walnuts, and then it dawned on me. Glenn Priddle, a leather seat master, who studied under classic saddle makers, made me a seat a couple of years ago for the 10th Anniversary of Bikernet. It was a wide, classic solo seat. I dug it out, dusted it off and it fit like a glove, dropped the seat height 2 inches and move the seat position forward 3 inches. It actually fit the frame better than the old classic from Duane. I dodged another bullet.

Every year when I build a bike, my mantra includes a solid, tough, rideable, unique bike that will last. But each year the unique project throws a few curveballs. It's part of my Zen education. Life is not meant for perfection. We need challenges to test our endurance levels and help us through the tough spots, find answers or solutions and persevere. Often my predicaments are caused by a lack of experience. For instance, if I ever use a Crazy Horse engine again, I'll know all the quirks and set-up issues.

We took another break and ran out to El Mirage, with this '30s Indy Racer and Rick's most recent board track build. The frame I used on the 5-Ball Factory Racer was designed by Rick Krost, or U.S. Choppers.

Now, let's see if I can ride it for any distance. I would love to ride it to the Badlands next year or to Arizona for our Too Broke for Sturgis Run.

One of the Bikernet Security Team, Cash, the dog.

We'll see what happens next, as I take her through the Eddie Trotta break-in routine. Eddie starts a bike for the first time, let's her run and checks her over. Then he takes it out for a one-block jaunt, and checks it over again. Then he ventures forth for one mile and returns for another inspection, then 5 miles, then 25, then 50 and she's ready for a cross-country blast. Hang on!

Now, for a real whiskey break.

Click on the banner to reach Chica directly.

Last episode I was hit hard with life's bullshit obstacles to freedom and creative expression, but that's how it goes. I generally build at least one bike a year and each one represents a milestone of sorts. Or each one represents another year in the life and times of Bandit. I'm not unique. This notion applies to everyone and every project from building a new home, to building a boat or finishing a book. We're so damn lucky to have the freedom and resources to accomplish our goals, small and large. As you sit back and relish any accomplishment, you know it represents a moment in time–hopefully a good time.

I mention a couple of chapters ago, an illustrator, who has graced Bikernet with his presence, Dick Allen. That name is so revered in the dark halls of the old school biker world. Dick Allen was one of the first and foremost backyard mechanical engineers of the '70s. He designed on of the most sought-after springers, helped kick off belt drives and several Southbay innovations. But another Dick Allen surfaced recently into the grease-stained halls of Bikernet, with illustrations that captured the excitement and action of our Bonneville efforts and now the first 5-Ball Factory Racer.

It's as if he crawled into the shop after the lights are turned off and the dogs are sleeping. He sketched the roller perched on the lift, sniffed the rags for clues to the essence of the build, and the open road dreams behind the late night efforts. Then he captured the action and desires with pen and ink. I asked him recently to send me a bio, because I sensed a long illustration career. Here was his response:

That's very kind of you to offer to runmy bio but honestly it makes me wantto take a nap just thinking about it.How about a pic instead of my stumppulling flathead single '40 Ariel? Wewere born in the same year and havebeen working together for about fifteenyears to keep my bank account drained.As the bike approaches completion itappears to be getting younger and youngerwhile I am definitely getting older and older!

Here's an example from my sketchbook of life observedduring our recent trip to Oaxaca.

Bitchin' segments from D&D, but only 1.5 inches in diameter. We stuck with 1 ¾ inch stock components.

So, recently we tore the March page out of the Calendar and flew into April. A running Racer by the end of April–for the Smoke Out in May, is the goal. The pipes were a major obstacle, yet Jesse James, Illusion Cycles, and Roland Sands inspired me.

I made an adjustable bracket for the muffler, so it could be bolted on in several position, until I knew what the fuck I was doing.

I spotted a tight shotgun system on one of Rusty Coones' Dyna Glide custom built in his Illusions shop. That's the direction I wanted to go for the racer look, not along the bottom of the frame in stock 1915 fashion. The muffler on Rusty's bike was a short/short Supertrapp developed with an exhaust guiding cone built by the Illusion team. The two-into-one pipe was designed at WCC, but I decided to give my own spin to the action for the Crazy Horse 100-inch engine.

It's a puzzle.

I also recently featured a bike built by Roland Sands with his own shotgun Vance and Hines system. Check it out. It also has a very short muffler system, but I had an all-stainless Scorpion sport bike muffler from the mad designer John reed.

A level always helps with a base, but make sure the bike is leveled first.

With Roland's design inspiration, I went to work. I had to make the system run tight to the bike, so ultimately I could install a Baker Drive kicker system to the JIMS 5-speed transmission. It had to run high enough not to mess with the rear axle and not too high for leg burning threats. I had one break; the Crazy Horse engine was designed with the intake manifold running out the left side of the engine. That allowed me to manufacture pipes as high as I wanted–watch the legs, damnit.

My second bracket to the transmission.

Making pipes is a tricky business. This system is teamed with lots of exhaust manufacturers, so I initiated a phone conference with D&D, and they supplied me with various ends and bends to give me a head start. Vance and Hines and WCC were involved with the design and inspirational aspects, and the Boys from Bassani stopped over for lunch and brought a hand full of bends and a chunk of muffler tubing for my speedometer mounts, a very diverse team. Plus nowadays, when you mess with pipes, the diameter fluctuates from below stock diameters to over 2-inch Bonneville racing exhaust performance demands. I took a day dealing with various sizes and ultimately decided on a 1 ¾-inch system to the two-inch muffler opening.

Getting close.

Then I had one of those calm and serene days in the shop–everything fit. It's a Zen thing, when the stars are aligned, and I drank just the correct carefully measured amount of Jack Daniels the night before. For some strange, inexplicable reason, I was tranquil with the dogs wrestling at my feet. The R&B Sirius station shop background music didn't spin any Michael Jackson tunes, and only the 4-tops and Jerry Butler lured me into a false sense of mechanical confidence. I patiently cut, ground chunks of pipes and brackets, then tacked them into place.

In this case, I didn't struggle to make the headers the same length. It will be fast without that, but they're not designed for Bonneville.

I've been making exhaust systems for about six or eight years, and each year I learn. For instance, I was through the roof to find Hooker Header alignment sleeves, only to discover they hinder performance. That meant I had to move more slowly, meticulously and make sure each segment fit perfectly. I also learned that exhaust wrap can also hinder ultimate performance, by being a heat transmitting barrier. Plus I'm still working on my MIG, pipe-segment welding skills. This year I'm going to clamp a bunch of pipe chunks together and weld them at different feed speeds and electrical settings. I'm determined to nail it down.

The first cut and grinding action.

Next, I moved onto a dash plate, cut with a plasma cutter out of a chunk of 16 or 14 gauge sheet metal. My crazy thought was to install the Phil's Speed Shop ignition system onto this plate with the Bikers' Choice Speedometer. In 1915, Speedometers and the constant loss oil pumps were mounted to the top of the tanks, right out in the open, so I decided to follow suit.

The speedo mounting tube from Bassani.

I cut that strap in two and welded the pre-drilled tabs to the inside of the speedo tube for mounting to the studs.

Bassini supplied the tubing for the Speedo, but I needed to be reduced the diameter a 1/2 -inch. I cut it with the Makita and pinched it down until the speedo fit in, and I could still wrap it with something to prevent vibration from beating it to death on the roads to the Badlands.

Phil's Speed Shop supplied me with a template so I could mark the holes and weld in studs to hold the ignition system down. It housed, circuit breakers, ignition switch, starter button, starter relay, neutral light and high/low beam switch.

Mechanical speedo drive running off the rear wheel. Who knows what my speed ratio will be with the 23-inch Black Bike Wheels?

Gard's cable guide, from LA Chop Rods, tacked into place–very cool.

I ran the Biker's Choice speedo cable and drive off the rear wheel in 1915 fashion, but with late model components. I used LA Chop Rods cable guides and grommets tacked to the frame. I played with the plate and position for hours and hopefully got it right. I also cut a notch in the Bassani Speedo mount so I can hopefully reach the trip gauge adjuster. It's going to knat's ass close. In each perplexing case, I shot for functioning symmetrical positions, that don't interfere with other components, like turning the bars.

Next, I had the spare gas tank ready to rock, but needed to mount it above the bars. Talk about angst, I looked around for something to use for mounting, like other fire extinguisher clamps, then it dawned on me to use the an old set of handlebar risers, upside down. I found an old set of Jammer risers and bolted them to the bars between the DBBP bronze risers, so far so good. Then I cut them, estimating the height needed to clear the bars, but I was wrong. What happened with harbinger to my Zen aura?

Here's a shot of those beautiful risers cut too short–whatta bitch.

I don't know about other crazed builders, but often a glitch turns into an opportunity. I turned to my lathe to cut a couple of extensions. They widened the base for greater strength. I reached out to NICK Trumbo at Bassini exhaust for a couple of straps. My notion was to weld the brackets to the straps, so if something went wrong, it wouldn't crack the tank and create a dangerous gas leak. I've had my problems with gas leaks in the past.

There you have it. Next, we'll mount the fantastic Black Bike Wheels (Avon Tyres), with GMA brakes from BDL, slice the Tanks for fork stops and Chica is going to build a Factory Racer ribbed fender. Rock and roll.

How's this for a real factory racer from 1926.