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.

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.

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.

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.

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.”

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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

Hang on. This is the last of the scintillating segments on building the Sturgis Shovel before I write the treacherous saga of the ride. Somewhere we will publish a feature on the bike in a mag and on the site. Oh, there’s one other tech that will come to pass—hard line assembly. I’m waiting for a CD of images from John Gilbert of Bike Works mag.

So let’s get started. I was burnin’ daylight before the Sturgis run. I saved a ton of cash going with all powder and no additional chrome or polishing. It cost me just $325 to powder all my components for lasting protection.

Throughout this article I will point out my mistakes, so you can avoid them. I did an 80 percent decent job of mocking up the bike prior to powder. That meant that 20 percent had to be dealt with after the finish was applied. Bad news. The only thing I didn’t think through or make brackets for was the ignition switch and circuit breaker brackets. That may seem minor, but wasn’t as you will discover. On the other hand it wasn’t a big deal. You be the judge. Actually, if we wired, fired and rode the bike before final teardown, it would answer all the questions. But few builders take it that far.

I was jazzed to toss the Paughco Frame on the lift covered with pads. Foremost Powder had plugged all the threaded holes and tapped off the neck bearing surfaces. They did a helluva job. I shaved motor and transmission mounts for a proper ground and installed the S&S modified 93-inch engine and JIMS trans. Then I could install the Paughco Springer without a balancing act.

The Springer is easy to install, but takes care. I greased the bearings, slid on the dust shields and ran the whole springer through the neck. Keep in mind that installing the bearing races in the neck is not complete until the bike has been down the road. Any paint, dust or uneven race angle will mean that the bearings will seat further once on the road. Ride it for a week then lift the front end off the ground and jiggle the wheel by the axle. If there’s any movement or dangerous slop, take the bars and top tree off once more and tighten the stem nut until there’s just a hair of drag. Long front ends are more critical because of the leverage against the neck.

I didn’t bolt down the engine and trans hard, just the tranny plate which ultimately I had to loosen. The engine needs to be completely at ease for the BDL belt alignment so I just spun some stainless bolts into place. Then I installed the front wheel with Doherty spacers, the Brembo brake caliber and centered the wheel. Keep in mind that Brembo supplied the bracket, which is designed to replace a stock, late-model Harley springer brake system. I didn’t have the proper spacer, but a Harley shop had one and I was good to go.

Then I installed the Brembo Caliper. They supplied me with a series of shims. I used feeler gauges to determine centering the caliper over the rotor and stacked the shims until it was set. This is an interesting bumbling, experienced manner for writing articles. I have the insight of riding experience behind images of the bike yet complete. Ultimately we removed the front fender.

I build the front fender, single sided bracket after Kent’s, from Lucky Devils Metal Works in Houston, caliper mounted fender mounts, which work perfectly. My problem was the initial position of the caliper, too far forward. So I mounted it on the heim joint rod which didn’t work. When the bike went over a bump the front lip of the fender rode up with the caliper and the rear lip rode down with the springer touching the tire. It had to go. So I rode to Sturgis without a front fender ducking rainstorms all the way.

Next I installed the rear fender. Keep in mind that the rear fender, the oil tank and the rear wheel fight for the same spaces. They almost need to go together simultaneously, especially the oil bag and rear fender. Everything slipped into place with nyloc nuts, stainless Allens and red Loctite.

At the time I ran stock gearing with the JIMS 6-speed, until I discovered that I was faced with running a kicker. I didn’t change the rear wheel gearing from the 51-tooth, but I should have. This evening I’ll install a Custom Chrome flat (Sportster styled) 48-tooth sprocket and hope to knock the revs down seriously.

I also mounted the rear Brembo brakes and centered the caliper over the Brembo rotor. No problem. Even my Softail styled anchor bracket worked perfectly welded to the frame and tucked the caliper between the frame rails.

While I’m messing with brakes I’ll cover brake and clutch lines and cables. Instead of making up lines I ordered RevTech pre-assembled lines from Custom Chrome plus all the fittings washers and fasteners. Keep in mind that the front brake master cylinder uses larger master cylinder banjo bolts. They come in 10mm and 12mm. Watch out, and don’t hesitate to order a couple of extra bangos bent at different angles to make sure you’ll have what you need.

I measured my lines and clutch cable lengths a number of times then added an inch for safety. That’s where making your own lines can be helpful. Keep in mind that the front end will turn (clutch cable) and depress (front brake). You’ll need some slack. Plus you might change the angle of your handlebar levers, which will impact the position of the cables and lines. I used Tephlon tape on most fittings although some builders don’t recommend it. Since most of this stuff is chromed, I like the extra sealant.

I use only DOT 5 brake fluid in my bikes, ‘cause I can splash the shit all over the place without concern for paint damage. In many instances you can fill the master cylinder and rock, just by waiting for the bubbles to rise. Another key is to find the right pump can and fill the lines, caliper and master cylinder from the bottom up. Use a new pumper or a pump that’s dedicated to brake fluid only and attach it to your brake bleeder on the front wheel. Most of the time that works like a charm.

I’ve found that most front brakes will basically bleed themselves. Fill the master cylinder on the bars and pump it slowly allowing the bubbles to rise. Let it set overnight and most of the bubbles will rise just by pumping it with short strokes at the lever and watching the bubbles jump to the surface.

In this case I discovered that some air was trapped in the caliper, so I pulled it off the bike, taped a file (the same width of the Brembo rotor) and turned the caliper so the air could escape through the bleeder nipple. I bleed it a couple of times then returned the caliper to its rightful position. She was good to go.

The rear brake wasn’t so easy because the air couldn’t rise to the master cylinder. I bleed it from the front and the rear, and I think it still has air in the lines although the Brembo brakes worked fine. I received a lot of compliments and comments on the brakes, which I found strange. Brembo has a terrific reputation, but not on Harleys. Riders were surprised to find Brembos on a Chopper.

Now for the clutch cable. First I was confused about which cable style to order. I hope to put together an article on it in the near future. I picked the most common late model Evo cable and measured the length several times. Here’s the key. If you’re not replacing a stock cable you have no notion of the length. I pulled a stock cable and measured it, but I didn’t know what model it came from. I went by the length of my stock cable and found the 1990-1999 Fatboy cable length. Then I measured the extension due to the Paughco Frame, CCE risers and CCI bars. Much guess work. If I had all the bucks in the world I would have bought three cables lengths.

The end cap cable is the reason Baker, JIMS and RevTech transmissions come with a fresh gasket and a quart of transmission oil. They know that you’ll be forced to pull the end cap to install the cable in the ball driven throw-out bearing mechanism. It’s simple but cumbersome. Don’t loose the balls. You’ll need a massive C-clamp removal tool to pop that sucker free. Carefully lift the inner ramp and remove the cable coupling, attach the cable, which you have already screwed into the trans face cover. Return the coupling to the inner ramp by watching the puzzle face. Then put the ramp back in place and the retaining ring and bolt the face cover back into place. Don’t forget to add at least 20 ounces of Trans fluid. It will hold 24 ounces dry.

I learned something on this trip. If water gets in the trans it will act up, shift strangely. Drain the fluid and change it. Check your vent.

I ran the cable several ways to find the path that fit best, didn’t rub the frame or catch on anything. I used one Arlen Ness cable clamp to secure it and hooked the cable into the greased tephlon bushing in the Joker Machine handlebar control, then replaced the small C-clamp and I was ready for final clutch cable adjustment after the BDL primer was installed.

I’m going to cover the 300 BDL installation here and try to explain my shift. My plan was to run the Compu-Fire engine based electric starter system designed by Giggie before he left and took a job at Rivera. Rivera is making inner primary plates for this new system, but when I contacted them Ben Kudon’s response was hesitant. They weren’t ready. Of course I contacted our long-time sponsor BDL and initially they weren’t scheduled to make units, then I was pleased to find out they were, so I ordered one. But Sturgis crept into the picture, and suddenly I was without a starting system and coils hanging under the oil bag interfering with any new starter install.

I had a 300 BDL belt system and a starter but no place to put it. Kent from Lucky Devil shrugged his shoulders and said, “Why don’t you run a kicker?”

Sinwu ripped off her top, jiggled her tits and said, “You have one from Muller in Germany.

I jammed down the headquarter stairs to the shop and tore open the box. I was jazzed. This is one of the coolest kicker systems to come along. It cleared the rear exhaust pipe and the kicker arm was stylish, unique and strong. I couldn’t believe my luck.

The JIMS 6-speed lined up with the BDL inner primary like a dream. All I needed was to pull the tranny face and press off the trap door, then replace the trap door and tranny cover with the Muller system. Muller even shipped a clutch ramp system that afforded smoother clutch action.

Hell, I’d even build a cool brass plug to cover the speedo-cable hole in the side of the JIMS trap door.

All went well until I removed the JIMS trap door to discover the 6-speed protruding gears. The door was machined to accept the gears and the 5-speed door was not. I was stuck. I contacted Muller in Germany for a 6-speed replacement door. No answer. I called JIMS and ordered the kicker they distribute for the 6-speed. It never arrived, so I called Custom Chrome. If I could order a 5-speed quick, I could use the Muller system. They responded and in three days I had a Rev Tech Replacement complete with kicker and 23-tooth chain sprocket. I yanked the 6-speed and began to install the Rev Tech 5-speed in 4-speed case with a five-year or 50,000 mile warranty.

At this point I should have replaced the rear 51-tooth sprocket with a 48 or perhaps a 46, but we’ll see. I removed the kicker cover and installed the clutch cable once more, sealed the tranny and filled it with 24 ounces of fluid.

I pulled the massive, left-handed, mainshaft sprocket nut with a JIMS special tool and flopped it around backwards to afford me the clearance I needed for the RevTech chain to pass the 180 Avon tire. I locked it down with the JIMS tool and an Allen setscrew and red Loctite. She was good to go.

Next, I needed to set up the BDL 300 belt drive system and the Compu-Fire Charging system. I slipped in the Stator, then the small tapered washer, followed by the Compu-Fire Rotor. It’s pasted right on the rotor not to smack it with any hammers. You might knock one of the magnets loose.

According to the rules sometimes the offset pulley mount doesn’t need the massive flat washer/spacer for proper alignment. But the first move includes installing the inner primary with the engine and tranny loose. I used never-cease on the threads of the transmission and tranny Allens to prevent damage to the threads. Take it back—first I had to remove the inner primary studs from the transmission. They were tight as hell and I used Yield and heat to set them free. Then I positioned the engine and the Trans with the primary.

I ran into problems. Nothing wanted to line up. I called a couple of buddies for guidance. I held the engine where it was with a shim under the front motor mount. Then I bolted the primary to the engine and trans. The front of the tranny raised almost .100. I started looking for shims. Bob from BDL told me the code was to shim the tranny plate and not the tranny, so I went to work. It wasn’t a problem to scour around for the right thickness washers. Soon the transmission was aligned, the primary fit easily and there was no drag on the transmission mainshaft.

Next, I needed to check the pulley alignment. I installed the pulley using the insert then the pulley and Allens. Since I would be removing and replacing the parts, I didn’t drive the alignment pins into the insert from the rear just yet. I discovered another glitch. I needed some washers or shims behind the engine pulley for alignment. I also discovered that the mainshaft nut wasn’t bottoming out, so the rotor flopped around. That wasn’t right.

I’ve installed a dozen BDL systems without major alignment problems. It takes patience, but once it’s correct, she will last and last. This is a tapered shaft transmission and once it’s installed it doesn’t slip off without a JIMS transmission hub puller tool.

With the pulley and the clutch in place you can test alignment a couple of ways. I used a cast T-Bar across the faces of the pulleys. They need to be exact, which means shims behind the engine pulley.

I made a mad dash to Walkers Machine and bought all the goddamn shims he had. The massive washer that comes with the rotor was only .035 too large. The next item was the inset in the engine shaft nut. I had to machine it to slip over the protruding shaft. This is also an area that takes some running and retesting to make sure it doesn’t seat and settle in, out of alignment. It’s easy to spot a problem. You’ll notice rubber dust around the pulley where it’s riding against the lip.

Remember that the clutch nut is also left-handed. Then the clutch slips into place and with some tugs and working the belt gently, it goes on. If not use two chunks of wood a large bolt and a socket to gently push the pulleys apart. Once it’s run for a while it will be much easier to remove and replace.

Okay, so I installed the tank, with the Spyke petcock and stripped the spigot threads. It hung for most of the ride. We’ll cover the tank more in the ride saga, so hold on. The seat was also a challenge. I slipped off, so I changed the seat, to one with a lip, then changed it back an added taller springs. That worked.

With the primary aligned I still used never-cease on the primary threads because I knew that I would remove the inner primary once more.

Hang on for this one. I needed to find a place for a toggle switch/ignition switch. I also had this massive aluminum starter motor boss on the inner primary that was going to waste. So I drilled out the starter shaft and installed a marine ignition switch. I glued it in place with a two stage epoxy then drowned it with liquid electrical tape, two coats. It seemed perfect except that the key sang in the wind only 1 inch above the peeling primary belt. No key rings or dice.

On the inside of the primary I made a brass strap that ran from one starter mounting hole to the other, holding two circuit breakers. One was a 15 amp for the lights and a 30 amp for the ignition. This became a very tight electrical area, dangerously close to the whirling CCI O-ring chain. As it turned out the circuit breakers were a hair or two from the coils. Cozy. I made a couple of wires long enough so that I could remove the primary and set it next to the bike to work on wiring issues.

The next thing I knew, under initial testing, the whipping chain chipped at the aluminum, dangerously close to the electrical. Larry Settle, of Settle MC Works loaned me a chunk of tephlon, which I carved and made a buffer, which worked perfectly to protect the chain from nearing hot wires.

Then came the Eye Candy Custom Cycles ’59 Cadillac taillight. They also make an old Ford style light, which I prefer, but I felt the need for side visibility, especially on the right. The mounting called for the primary once more to hold the taillight/brake light. Finding the proper location was a chore. It either rode too close to the chain or the mounting called for screws through the frame or into the wiring loom. I monkeyed with it for hours and finally designed a tough mounting system that might survive. All went well, but the frame rail still blocks the light and I might move it outbound.

I ran the thin sparkplug wires through the frame in shrink tubing, wired the coil and the Joker machine brake switch and headlight through the hole in the frame too close to the fork stop. Even on a simple chopper an idiot can find his way into trouble.

Finally I mounted the stylish Aeromach mirror on the left bar only. It came with all the hardware needed and never gave me a problem. I know I’m missing a link or two, maybe a necessary credit. Don’t hesitate to drop me a line if you need a question answered. You can reach me daily at Your Shots or drop a line to Bandit@Bikernet.com.

Over the next couple of days I will attempt to complete the first saga of the ride to Sturgis. I hope to launch it on Friday. In it I will dig into the problems I encountered, mistakes I made and how I fixed them. Hang On. But beyond the glitches, actually the wiring worked out fine, but I should wire in a kill switch. The bike rode well, comfortable for a rigid, started without major hassle and ran all the way to Deadwood. I can’t complain.

I'm in a daze this morning. Too much Quervo Gold last night and too many discussions about the sinking economy. It's a bastard when they lay off port crane operators. What does that tell you? I don't want to go there on this dank gray morning. It's warm outside, but even the dogs, Tank and Cash, feel the gray skies. They look hung-over, droopy and drained. I haven't shaved in a couple of days, need a shower and a kick-my-butt workout.

All the women left me and ran off to the mountains this weekend. I know why Sin Wu needed a break. Have you ever tried to maintain a 10,000 square-foot, old dilapidated building, clean and care for two lumbering, sloppy dogs, two house cats, and a stray that wanders through and bitches if the food supply isn't consistent with her desires? The Macaw needs to be fed and moved into and out of the sun at the end of the day and now we have a fuckin' fish.

There are also construction workers, electricians and plumbers to deal with. It's never a dull moment around here. I'm a big proponent of running off all the costly pets, who can't do except shit and care for a half dozen concrete gargoyles. At least they keep the evil spirits at bay and involve zero upkeep.

Okay, I'll get to the tech. I was on a hunt for a vintage seat and Duane Ballard stopped by with this vintage BMW seat. I used chunks of wood to hold it in place while I pondered the little Hispanic girl who works at Shamrocks, the Mexican fish market two blocks away. Since the seat was made with a number of springs incorporated in the structure, I didn't feel additional springs were necessary. I played with my options, but nothing – graceful, stylish, art deco or vintage – came to mind. Then I grabbed the springs that came with the prototype Paugho frame and voila, it all came together using the existing frame bungs, the mini-seat shocks and a slight modification to the BMW seat.

I drilled new holes in the brackets and cut about 4 inches off the arms. The front of the seat bolted directly to the Paughco seat hinge and I was good to go. Duane stopped by again, blessed my creation, and took the seat for top-notch leather upholstery action. He's the best.

I shifted to my shift linkage system and called Jeremiah for the mathematical configuration from the system we build for his bobber. I wanted a tank shift and had several strange components, plus heavy, solid cloverleaf brass rod to use. I don't have any idea how I come up with this shit, but what the hell. It has class.

According to Jeremiah, from the pivot point down, the shift arm was about 6 inches in length, and the distance to the shift knob up was almost three times that length. That made for a vast throw and I needed to make sure I was clear, fore and aft, for shifting without smacking the bars or anything else. I checked my '48 Panhead with stock jockey shifting and the ratio was closer to two to one. In addition, jockey shifting is a different animal. There's no back and forth spring action on vintage tank-shifted bikes. The shifter banged through one gear after another from first to fourth, done deal.

That's the reason jockey-shifted bikes are best with jockey top transmissions. If you need neutral, just pop it out of any gear and you're back in neutral. Ratchet tops force you to bang through one gear after another down to the only neutral between first and second, often missing it. In our next tech, we will install a Baker 5-and-1 drum in this transmission to afford neutral at the bottom for easy reach.

Okay, so back to the job at hand. I'm trying to use as much brass on this bike as possible, so I dug through drawers and boxes of old machined parts and trinkets and came up with these brass-bearing supports. Then I machined a piece to fit these, then the axle piece to mount to the frame. Then I had to bore and tap the pivot, drill and tap to anchor the brass bushing, drill and tap to create a pivot stop and machine and thread the brass rods, plus machine an end to fit a heim joint connection to the transmission shift linkage. I spent hours tinkering and figuring, drilling, tapping and testing, and I'm reasonable sure I have a tough, working shifting system.

Then I shifted to the dreaded tanks. The tanks are fine, but more involved than normal one-piece, bolt-on tanks, ready with bungs for rubber mounting. Since this was a prototype Paughco Factory Racer frame, the first one of the batch, they bolted the tanks to the frame by drilling and tapping the top frame tube. Problem is, that afforded each 5/16 coarse bolt about three threads in mild steel tubing. In just a matter of time, those threads would fail, the tanks would rattle and come loose.

I decided I wanted to strengthen the tank mounting for the long road. I ordered some ¼-inch bungs, ¾-inch deep for a lasting hold. Later, I discovered that since the mainframe strut was 1.5 inch tubing, I could have used the 1.5-inch deep bungs from the Bung King (check their site for all available variations). I needed to re-drill the holes to a larger diameter for the bungs to slip into the frame. Adding the bungs and welding them enhanced the strength of the frame. At first, I though about machining a bung with a lip on it, but the tanks didn't have the clearance above the frame for a lip.

After drilling the frame holes, I tapped the bungs into the hole and as far below the surface as possible for the strongest, deepest weld. I would also need to grind off any protruding weld so the tanks would fit again. One tank protruded into the frame and rubbed at the back, so I moved it as far forward as possible for clearance, which amounted to about ¼ inch.

With the bungs in place, welded and ground, I grappled with the tank mounting holes. I thought I had it made, since I was dropping from 5/16-inch bolts to ¼-inch, but not so. Only one hole lined up. I grappled with these bastards for hours. Then I gas-welded the hole slots, refilled them and ground them to a reasonable size.

Next, I welded bungs, I believe from Lucky Devil, into the bottom of the tanks and used the Bung King’s rubber mount kits with straps and rubbers to attach it to the frame. In a sense, this was overkill, but I've experienced leaky tanks and poorly mounted tanks on my way to Sturgis a couple of times. One time, Randy Aaron from Cycle Visions saved my ass and my tank paint job. Later on, Paul Yaffe replaced my piece-of-shit Blue Flame tank with a properly rubber mounted Independent tank. So, goddamnit, this needs to be right the first time. I ran rubber mounts front and rear.

There's a trick to this operation. You need the rubbers in place to make proper measurements, cuts and tack welds. Ah but, too much heat will destroy your rubbers and sink the process. I've done it during mad welding spurts. This time I kept my Bonneville salt sprayer handy, so I could tack near the rubber insert and cool the strap before I damaged the insert. I removed the inserts before final welds.

With the tanks securely mounted, I was confident, except for one aspect: capacity and turning radius. I needed to pull the bike away from the lift clamp and flop the Paughco taper-leg springer from side to side. As I suspected, it was going to hit the tanks. Over the next couple of weeks, I will operate again, slicing the tanks for turning.

I shifted to making a top motor mount, which worked out like a champ. I made a strap from one Crazy Horse head to the other, then discovered a couple of tabs that would give me the strength and position I needed to hook up with the frame. Top motor mounts are also tricky. They need to be flexible and somewhat adjustable. I made sure the engine was positioned correctly with my BDL primary backing plate, but you never know if something might shift slightly during final assembly, and the top motor mount must be flexible and iron strong.

Without too much fanfare, I attached a piece of modified angle iron to the right side of the motor mount for a coil hanger. I angled it slightly so the spark plug wires wouldn’t bang or rub against the tank.

It just happened that I'm building a railing for my mom's house. She's getting feeble, in her old age and needed some additional support. That meant a trip to the local steel supply house, where I stumbled onto some small chunks of angle iron. I didn't like my original number 5 transmission mount, so I decided to remanufacture it with a heftier piece of angle iron that also reached the frame without a problem. It also allowed me a tad more positioning flexibility for the master cylinder and pedal adjustment.

In the next segment, I'll run the progression of Dick Allen illustrations, so you can see the progress. It's as if I'm building the motorcycle, while Dick and Chris Kallas develop the visual story.

I don't know about you, but these illustrations give me hope and inspiration throughout the build process. Next, I will modify the tanks once more for enhanced Paughco Springer turning radius, then we'll mount the Phil's Speed shop ignition and wiring system to a plate I'll make that will bolt to the top of the tanks behind the gas caps.

Also mounted to same plate of steel will be a manual, vintage Sportster replacement, Bikers Choice speedo driven off the rear Black Bike wheel. Hopefully, the wheels will roll in, I'll find some 23-inch tubes and Larry Settle will mount and balance the Avon tires. I'll set up the wheels in the frame and springer, and then haul the bike to Chica in Huntington Beach. He's going to help me with fender design and mounting. In the meantime, I'll watch the inauguration unfold and stay away from tequila. There's more coming, though. I'm going to modify the trans with a 5-1 Baker drum, and build a set of exhaust with D&D bends and pieces. Hang on for the next installment.