Welcome Aboard Planet Earth, Enjoy The Ride!
Shortly after joining society the 31st of May 1944 in El Dorado, Kansas. the adrenaline addiction might have kicked in when the good Dr. Dillenbeck pried me out of the dark into the bright lights of the hospital delivery room at 4:29 a.m. After the complimentary slap on the ass, “Hey, Ray C. Wheeler its time to ride,” he said.
Close But No Cigar
While riding my bicycle to grade school, early one morning, I attempted to make it through the side street intersection and almost made it. A car hit the back of my bicycle and threw me off, close call. Minor bumps and abrasions, I suppose, but who the hell remembers anyway?
1955 Moved to Wichita, KS
My neighbor Jon was one year older and rode a light metallic blue English motorcycle of some sort and was kind enough to let me sneak in a few rides around the neighborhood.
No Fear, No Helmets and No Speed Limits when we were teenagers growing up in the mid west on the outskirts of Wichita, Kansas.
While growing up, my mother and stepfather referred to motorcycles as Murder Cycles and must have been acquainted with numerous families, who told horror stories of loved ones killed on those dangerous bastards. WTF? Must have spurred my rebellious interest some how, imagine that. I’ve been chasing the elusive fast forbidden fruit all of my life, whatever that is?
Pete was a couple of years older, lived next door on the right side of us in the middle of Kansas. Our homes were built directly under the McConnell Air Force Base flight path on the East side of town. On most days in the late ’50s and the early ’60s the skies over Wichita were full of B-52s. They flew 24-hours a day with Air Force pilots practicing their touch-and-go routines as well as full-throttle lift offs. On many occasions, the dishes and photos rattled off of the walls.
Pete rolled through the neighborhood on a pea green Sears Cushman Eagle (about a ’57 or so) with a kick-start pedal located in front of the bench type seat. I rode the Cushman quite a few times in my early teens, just enough to realize that a motorcycle had become an important part of my life. What the Hell, my bicycle, when I was 5 or 6, sported playin’ cards attached to the fender mounts with clothes pins on the fender supports. Sounded great, music to my ears.
One of my first cars was a ’40 Ford 2-door Deluxe that we installed a 1955 Oldsmobile, 324 inch Rocket V-8 with an adapter plate mating a Cad LaSalle 4-speed transmission to the engine. Built the hot rod during my high school years while throwing newspapers twice a day and working at the local gas station to survive.
ESCAPED KANSAS
From the frying pan into the fire, I was just 18, and straight out of vocational high school specializing in machine shop. I attended Navy Boot Camp in Great Lakes, Illinois during the winter of ’62, what a frozen bitch that was. Our barracks were quarantined for a few days due to an outbreak of the measles.
Graduated from boot camp in early ’63 and hauled ass to sunny Mayport, Florida for shipboard duty. Transferred to New Orleans Naval Air Station, then San Diego in ’64 for Machinery Repairman School.
Joined the Navy to see the World and ended up in a fuckin’ war of all things. In 1966, we steamed 43,397 nautical miles. Who-da-thunk-it. The Navy was kind enough to schedule a few days in Hong Kong for my 22nd birthday, in a war, and celebrating life to the fullest.
During high seas you might find me with my head hanging out over the keel of the ship waiting for the sea to ride up and over. We were at least 60 feet from the deck to the ocean. Helluva ride, had to hang on tight many a time.
We spent 50 days or more (no sleepin’ allowed) off of the Viet Nam coast in combat related operations and performed 16 underway replenishments, that’s a ship- to-ship transfer of fuel, chow, personnel in a swingin’ chair, etc.
SUMMER OF 1965
Stationed in Pearl Harbor, X-1 submarine base for a few months then transferred to Subic Bay to meet the USS Tulare AKA-112. The ship steamed past Subic Bay earlier so the Navy flew me into DaNang. We crash-landed on a make shift runway, sliding to a stop under heavy fire. We hauled ass from the wounded aircraft with the shit flyin’, ducked into a dark Quonset hut that was barricaded behind a wall of sand bags.
Welcome to the fuckin’ war NFG!
76-Inch Sportster
We dreamed speed, we cut, we machined, we welded, we tuned, and we turned a perfectly good, brand new Sportster into a drag strip/street monster. I terrorized the natives on the streets of Honolulu and all around the Oahu Island. Charlie was the addicted wrench not a rider.
Eventually the cops knew me by name, sight and sound. We we’re stuck on an island in the middle of the deep blue Pacific Ocean. The sub-base chrome shop, polished and chrome plated the frame and miscellaneous parts in trade for machine work for their hot rods and projects. We disassembled the new XLCH motor, polished the flywheels and rods, then rebuilt the engine with a set of .228 over Doc Dytch barrels and high-compression kick-start-able pistons, plus-plus cams, solid lifters, a one off sub base down draft intake manifold with a Stromberg 97, and an electric Holley fuel pump. We held the Oahu track record for a few minutes. Charlie was huge and didn’t like to ride, so all of the riding duties were on me. We had the baddest bike on Oahu in 1965, sure thought so anyway. Seems that we ran low 10s with struts and no wheelie bars.
The set-up was perfect for prowling the streets of Oahu during the week or after a day of racing at Oahu International Drag Strip.
Friday, April 13, 1967 San Diego, Ca.
After 18 months of combat pay in Viet Nam.
What’s normal after a war? Not much, ask any surviving Vet.
Tulare returned to the west coast late in the year but soon was deployed again to WestPac, departing the west coast on 12 February 1966 and steaming via Hawaii to Chu Lai, Republic of Vietnam. She off-loaded her cargo between 6 and 9 March and then proceeded via Sasebo to Okinawa. The ship later returned to Chu Lai with 47 vehicles and 1,211 tons of other cargo. For the remainder of the year, she operated in the Orient, visiting Buckner Bay, Okinawa; Subic Bay, Philippines; Hong Kong; Bangkok, Thailand, Camranh Bay, Phan Rang, and Tuy Hoa, Vietnam; and Yokosuka and Sasebo, Japan. During the year 1966, the ship steamed a total of 43,397 miles; transported 2,076 men, 8,891 tons of cargo, and 483 vehicles; spent 50 days off Vietnam in combat-related operations; and conducted 16 underway replenishments to ships of the Fleet on duty in the South China Sea.
Time to Ride!
The no war/motorcycle adrenaline addiction reared its ugly head in the middle of Kansas, Wichita to be precise. In the form of a Bonnie Truett Iron Head Sportster motor that was ’78 inches, 12.1 comp. Tow starting or rollers were mandatory or, hang on to the door handle on the drivers side of my first wife’s ’60 Buick, (at 30 or 40 mph let go and attempt to start the 12.1 compression hot rod). It usually took two or three tows and off for a ride around town lookin’ for a race. Since the bike was a tow-only and Kansas is flat as a fuckin’ pancake, there were no hills to roll down for a bump start. No way to kick-start my daily-riding mutha even on a red-hot day. So, I would usually ride about a 1/2 a tank from home and head back to the barn. Might have idled at the pump a few times during a quick fill up. 2.2 gallons at 22.9 cents per gallon, a 50 cent fill up with leaded Premium and off to the races.
New Years Eve Blast!
One New Years Eve in the late ’60s, in sub zero weather we rolled my Sportster over the floor furnace to heat up the fluids for a tow-start and a midnight blast around town. It’s a wonder it never fuckin’ exploded and leveled the block. It must have leaked hot oil onto the furnace, crazy. Yes, I went for a midnight ride in cold ass 14-degree Kansas weather.
Happy New Year’s! Not sure which year, ’68, ’69, or ’70? Time flies when your havin’ fun, remember those days?
Wheeler Bikes over the Years
’70s- ’58 Panhead
’80s- ’80/80 Shovel
’90s- 98-inch Evo drag bike
’00- 159-inch Evo dual chain drive
’04- Dyna twin cam stock, then 96-incher, and 124-incher, then added turbo, and today 96-incher one more time.
’12- 124-inch Turbo Bonneville 5-Ball Raycer
2006- Run-What-Ya-Brung
The 2 passes that set the stage.
1st pass 121.966 (not very aerodynamic on the first pass)
2nd pass 134.361 (elbows and toes inboard, chest on tank)
On my 95-inch Twin Cam, Hardtailz Tuned, Randy Torgeson built, R&R Cycle heads, HPI Throttle Body, borrowed boots with a pair of leather chaps from Dr. Willie. We removed the mirrors and taped the lights. My leather saddle bags stayed on the bike, I was on vacation, remember?
My main reason for going to Bonneville in 2006 was to meet the 5-Ball Racing Team as a volunteer gofer, cheer-the-troops-on-kinda-guy.
Quick snapshot of the year leading up to Bonneville.
June: Time on the road from San Jose, to Seattle, and back to San Jose.
July: I hit San Jose, Denver, Wichita, Des Moines, Cody, and Wells.
August: On 8/28 I was idling in Sunrise Beach, Mo., peeled out and ended up in Des Moines, then Denver. By 9/2 I rode into Bonneville.
Mon. 9/4- 121.966,
Wed. 9/6- 134.396
On Friday 9/8, I hauled ASS back to San Jose. Late that night I crawled into bed. Rolled over 15,000 miles in 2006 on the way to Bonneville for my first ride on the salt.
Once the hot rod cooled down in front of my bungalow, I checked the air pressure in the tires. They were low and the air cleaner needed cleaning. Hard to imagine… The Avon Venoms were beggin’ for mercy by the time I rolled into Hardtailz.
2007- On-The-Way
Lucky, Lucky! Big Sur! Crash!
Saturday, Sept.1, 2007: Fell asleep at 5 mph on a curvy, sandy 101, one mile past the Lucia Lodge just after dark on Big Sur headed South to meet the 5-Ball Racing Team. With luck on my side managed to veer/slide to the left running into an un-moveable-mountain, the front wheel hit the wall first followed by my head. Slightly tweaked the front end, dinged my helmet and scraped-up the fairing a touch.
The men from Hardtailz sent help that picked up my hot rod the next morning.
Due to a very minor cut on my forehead that bled profusely and the fact that I was discovered knocked unconscious and pinned under my sweetheart with her headlight shining brightly into the night like an SOS beacon, the emergency crew was notified. My headlight may have saved my life that night. A young couple traveling North to the bay area from LA spotted me. Somehow they stood my bike up and loaded me in their car. The young man fired my Dyna hot rod, and rode it back to the Lucia Lodge.
The local volunteer emergency arrived on the scene with their red lights flashing . They immediately ordered a life flight helicopter out of San Jose. WTF?! I had just packed for the road trip and left San Jose goddammit. The crew loaded my semi-conscious ass with Morphine eventually strapping me into a secure basket mounted on the side of the helicopter for the flight back to San Jose for a mere $43,000 and change. Good insurance covered the bills and saved my ass.
I faced my bruised diagnosis early the next morning in the recovery room. A slightly sprained right wrist, slight cut on my forehead, a black eye, no stitches, take two aspirin and call me in the morning. Released early the next morning after my clothes had been hastily cut off, by the Emergency room staff. Then the practicing Doctors took over, poking, probing, and cat scanning, while pumping me full of morphine that was not needed nor wanted.
2008- RWB
Top Speed 147.098 mph
124-inch Twin Cam, Hardtailz tuned, Randy Torgeson, R&R Cycle, S&S Cycle, HPI Throttle body, Daytona Twin Tec computer, RBRacing 2-into-1 exhaust pipe, Storz inverted forks, Race Tec shocks and more.
Hauled Ass in the Rain, Sleet and Snow, Denver to Salt Lake City then the Salt Flats!
The week prior to Bonneville was spent in the Denver area trapped by a snow storm that pelted the always fantastic Rockies. The weather report early Sat. in Denver called for a warming trend with light rain and another round of snow headed in the direction of Denver.
Well, well, what-the-hell might as well haul ass in-between storms. You guessed it, while climbing the first mountain pass headed west the rain came down gently then turned into light sleet, then blinding snow as we climbed toward Aspen. My first stop for gas, dry socks and plastic bags was an eye opener. The interstate headed west had two more passes that were also snow covered and it continued to snow. My hot rod and I tucked in behind a lone-semi, traveling on the small patch of real estate that the trucks dual- wheels cleared. The highway patrol attempted to close the road as we rolled westward observing many cars and numerous jack-knifed trucks. They were in parked in the ditches heading both directions, stranded on the desolate snow-bound interstate.
Late in the afternoon, after a day of trick-riding, I climbed the last pass descending into Salt Lake City. We were greeted by massive amounts of welcome sunshine warming my rattled old bones. Not much sunshine in Denver the past few days.
Once the roads cleared I headed downhill into Salt Lake City, passed the only trucker on the road that day, giving him a thumbs up!
Ended up in a Motel 6 early that evening, showered and passed out dreaming about Bonneville, a mere 100 miles away.
Up at the Crack-of-Dawn
Rolled onto the salt after a crisp blast out of Salt Lake the last day of the 2008 BUB meet, registered, unpacked my throw-over-soft-bags, made two passes with a top speed of 147.098 mph, repacked my bike and hauled ass, destination San Jose.
On my way home that afternoon while exiting the Silver State of Nevada met a young Trooper that was amazed and issued a 100 mph speeding ticket, seemed slow at the time.
Young Trooper, “Do you know how fast you were going Mr. Wheeler?”
“One hundred mph on the nose unless my speedometer is wrong,” I said.
“Thanks for being truthful, here’s a ticket, no jail today,” he said his eyes still popping out of his head.
2009- Impound with two pending records.
6 passes, two records
3000-M-AF 145.018 Record
3000-MPS-AF 148.246 Record
Top Speed 149.811
On my 124-inch Twin Cam, from R&R Cycle. S&S Cycle lower end, with fresh TP pistons and new valves guides on a 60,000 mile engine. The Super Max belt drive gearing was topped out.
Attended the AMA awards ceremony in December at the Hard Rock Casino in Las Vegas for the thrill of a lifetime. My record setting hot rod was spit shined and displayed just outside of the banquet hall next to the BUB 7 and Leo Payne’s record setting Turnip Eater– quite an honor.
2010- Cheated Death, Two high-speed tank-slappers
On my 124-inch w/Turbocharger, Hardtailz tuned. We added a rebuilt Series 66 Aerocharger for a serious blast of air.
First pass entered the timed mile at well over 150 mph, clicked into 5th gear leveling out at 160 or so. Son-of-a-bitch a tank slapper that lasted the entire mile. NO, NO, NO, screamed in my mind as the bike slowed to a 117 mph exit speed.
Fixed loose neck bearings, but the second pass was a re-run that took the entire mile to gain control and exit.
Time to regroup and build a dedicated Bonneville bullet thanks to badgering Bandit
2011- No Ride, seems the 124 incher was tired after 70,000 plus miles. Attended every meet on the salt in 2011 to keep the juices flowing.
In less than 120 days we hit the salt with a solid plan that’s backed by one helleva Team. Hardtailz (Final assembly and TuneUp) San Jose, and with a Rick Tedder, straight-as-an-arrow rolling chassis, Salem, OR.
A new Busa suspension based chassis is scheduled for Rick Tedders frame table in Salem by the end of this month. Then we roll to Hardtailz in San Jose to prepare for June 3rd and 4th shake down during the Mojave Mile week end.
Stay tuned!
3/19/2012
Less than 120 days until we’re on the salt!
You’re gonna have to hang on as the news and images arrive via carrier pigeon, UPS, USPS, Fed-ex and more.
Our 124-inch Randy Torgeson R&R Cycle Turbo engine is sitting next to a Sharp Eye Jim built, STD 5 speed FLT type transmission. Rick Tedder has reserved a spot on his precision, laser assisted frame table for early April to fabricate a one-off frame, build the turbo system, mount the fairing, belly pan, front fender, and the tail section.
We’ll keep you posted. Support us, if you can.
Haul Ass!
Ride for your Life!
–Ray c wheeler
Performance Editor
wheeler@bikernet.com
