When I was just a pup, one of my earliest memories was riding on the tanks on my dad’s old 80-inch flathead. It was stripped down for speed, and dad used to race the old clay track at Cotati with it. I guess it would be called a “bobber,” but back in the early ‘50s, it was just The Bike.
I also remember my mother throwing 15 fits, each time he peeled out. She didn’t throw any of them fast enough to prevent from taking off, wide open with me hanging on for dear life, both of us laughing like maniacs. Dad truly was “The Terror of Highway 101!”
Dad had a garage in the Napa Valley, and I remember the first time I saw what we’d now call a Chopper rumble past on the way to who-knows-where. It was a cobbled together affair, for sure, but the long springer front end made from Model-A wishbones and the high bars stuck to my young mind like glue.
Back then, I never heard anybody call them bobbers; they were choppers or bar hoppers, with the latter being the most popular term for a cool scoot that you wouldn’t want to ride for 500 miles at a stretch.
I’ve owned a lot of bikes over the ensuing 50 or so years. In fact, I’ve owned at least one of damn near everything, but the chop of my dreams was unfortunately placed on the back burner while raising kids and dealing with other adult responsibilities. The “hot ticket” has also changed over the years from an 80-inch stroker Panhead with a jockey shift to motors well over 100 cid and six-speed trannies. The one thing that didn’t change was the vision in my head.
About fifteen years or so ago, a long-neglected Shovelhead of indistinct lineage came into my possession for a very meager sum of cash. It needed some love, and I needed a scoot, and the rust, dents, and spider webs didn’t matter. I slapped it back together after it languished in a leaky shed for too many years. I rode it with bullet hole decals over the dents until the cash flow improved.
In 2002, I started to rebuild it from the ground up, when my first wife was killed in a traffic accident. The old Shovel gave me something to focus on, and building it became my link to sanity, however tenuous that link was. I obsessed on it, and it turned out very cool. Me and that old Shovel have been through some hard times and long roads, and I made up my mind that I’ll keep it for the rest of my days.
Jump forward to 2011, and the time emerged to yank that old vision out of my aging memory banks and turn it into reality. The old Shovel came apart, and began a third new life, shedding memories both good and bad, and starting fresh like I did.
I started by adding the mandatory hardtail. Next came the 80-spoke wheels, the sprocket/rotor combo, the springer front end, and a bunch of hand-made pieces like the electrical / switch box, the front brake caliper mount, the license plate mount, the intake elbow, and various mounts and brackets.
The front master cylinder and clutch lever clamp just ended flat without the switch housings, so I made tapered fillers to make them flow into the grips. The fender started life as an 11-inch wide blank, and I cut 5 inches out of the middle to give the edges the correct curve, then made the struts out of 3/8-inch cold roll.
The Z bars were a tribute to the ones I used to buy from the old Jammer’s Handbook back in the ‘70s, and fit the flow of the bike better than any others I tried. The solo seat was a must, but I did use shocks under it to soften the bumps out a bit for my bedraggled old body. I also replaced the old 4-speed with a new Rev Tech 5-speed transmission and Barnett clutches to make shifting easier and smoother.
When the time came to choose the paint scheme, I wanted something a bit eye-catching, but not over the top, so I chose the retro scallops. I used House of Kolor for the black and gold base coats, with Alsa Corporation’s “Prisma-coat” over the black, and topped it with House of Kolor clear coat. In the shade, it just looks black and gold, but in the sun, it reflects every color in the spectrum like stars on a high-Sierra night.
After nearly 50 years, my dream scoot has finally become reality, and it’s a true bar-hopper. It’s loud, fast, obnoxious, and totally ill-mannered, so I call it the Bar-Barian. If dad could see it, I think he’d love it. In fact, he’d probably take off on it wide open, laughing like a maniac!
EXTREME SHOVEL TECH SHEET
GENERAL:
OWNER: Buckshot
BIKE’S NAME: Bar-Barian
YEAR: 1974
MODEL: Schizophrenic bar-hopper.
FABRICATION: Buckshot
ASSEMBLY: Buckshot
BUILD TIME: 3 weeks & 2 gallons of Jack Daniel’s.
PAINT / GRAPHICS: Buckshot
Base; House of Color
Prismacoat: ALSA Corp
Clear: Montana
ENGINE:
YEAR: 1974
REBUILDER: Howard Lacy / Buckshot
DISPLACEMENT: 74ci +.030
CASES: Stock H.D.
CAM: Andrews A-grind
IGNITION: Points, as God intended.
INTAKE: Buckshot
CARB: Mikuni
TRANSMISSION:
REV-TECH 5 speed
CLUTCHES: Barnett
FRAME:
H-D with weld-on hardtail
RAKE: Stock
STRETCH: Yeah, every 50 miles.
FORK: 4” over; Demon’s Cycle
OIL TANK: Modified H.D.
WHEELS & BRAKES:
WHEELS: 80 spoke; Demon’s Cycle
REAR BRAKE: Sprocket / rotor combo; Demon’s Cycle
FRONT BRAKE: Ultima
CALIPER MOUNT: Buckshot
ACCESSORIES:
REAR FENDER / STRUTS: Buckshot
FRONT FENDER: Ray Bans
HEADLIGHT: Billet, Demon’s Cycle
TAIL LIGHT: Billet LED
BARS: Z-bars of mystery.
HANDLEBAR SWITCH FILLERS: Buckshot
ELECTRICAL BOX / SWITCH HOUSING: Buckshot
GRIPS / PEGS: Arlen Ness
MIRRORS: Billet
FOOT / HAND CONTROLS: Billet, Demon’s Cycle
TURN SIGNALS: Left hand extended.
SEAT: The ass off an old dead alligator.
SPECIAL THANKS TO:
* Reggie Cake
* Foster @ Foster’s Bike Shop
* Some drunk guy at a swap meet
* Jack Daniel and all his descendants.
