What the hell,
I just couldn’t leave the girls behind, so I decided to throw something at you. We will see how this works with some humor and a quick weekend report.
Charles, from Strictly Hawgs and Mitch came over to discuss the Salt Torpedo on Friday. We discussed front suspension and rear mono-shock suspension with Kevin and myself. Kevin keeps suggesting more cuts to the Paughco touring frame. I hesitate because of my mission to get this thing on the road quickly and to make it as aero-dynamic as possible.
The mono-shock notion will help the rear. Kevin has a serious health issue, and I don’t want to add to his workload and over-stress his time and abilities, so what the hell did we do?
We took three broads to the Rock Shop bar and crambed grill in Hermosa Beach, Sunday night to see one of their friends play and celebrate Elvis’ birthday. He would have been 84 years old. The place was packed with old folk, like me and rocked out. The Elvis impersonator was a big guy in a wig who was plump but fulla energy. The nine-piece band rocked the tight room. It was a blast and the girls drank and smoked CBD oil and laughed the whole night long.
This club had been around since the ‘70s and rock and roll history plastered the walls with old posters and photos of rock stars and musical acts. Amazing.
WE WILL KEEP THE BANDIT’S CANTINA BAD JOKE LIBRARY WIDE OPEN FOREVER–
One day a man decided to retire…
He booked himself on a Caribbean cruise and proceeded to have the time of his life, that is, until the ship sank.
He soon found himself on an island with no other people, no supplies, nothing, only bananas and coconuts. After about four months, he is lying on the beach one day when the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen rows up to the shore.
In disbelief, he asks, “Where did you come from? How did you get here?”
She replies, “I rowed over from the other side of the island where I landed when my fishing boat sank.”
“Amazing,” he notes. “You were really lucky to have a row boat wash up with you.”
“Oh, this ole thing?” explains the woman. ” I made the boat out of some raw material I found on the island. The oars were whittled from gum tree branches. I wove the bottom from palm tree branches, and the sides and stern came from an Eucalyptus tree.”
“But, where did you get the tools?”
“Oh, that was no problem,” replied the
woman. ” On the south side of the island, a very unusual stratum of alluvial rock is exposed. I found that if I fired it to a certain temperature in a volcanic vent I found just down island, it melted into ductile iron and I used that to make tools and used the tools to make the hardware.”
The guy is stunned.
“Let’s row over to my place,” she says “and I’ll give you a tour.” So, after a short time of rowing, she soon docks the boat at a small hand built wharf. As the man looks to shore, he nearly falls off the boat. Before him is a long stone walk leading to a cabin and tree house.
While the woman ties up the rowboat with an
expertly woven hemp rope, the man can only stare ahead, dumb struck. As they walk into the house, she says casually, “It’s not much, but I call it home. Please sit down. Would you like a drink?”
“No! No thank you,” the man blurts out, still dazed. “I can’t take another drop of coconut juice.”
“Oh, it’s not coconut juice,” winks the woman. “I have a still. How would you like a Jack Daniels neat?”
Trying to hide his continued amazement, the man accepts, and they sit down on her couch to talk. After they exchange their individual survival stories, the woman announces, “I’m going to slip into something more comfortable. Would you like to take a shower and shave? There’s a razor in the bathroom cabinet upstairs.”
No longer questioning anything, the man goes upstairs into the bathroom. There, in the cabinet is a razor made from a piece of tortoise bone. Two shells honed to a hollow ground edge are fastened on to its end inside a swivel mechanism.
“This woman is amazing,” he muses. “What’s next?”
When he returns, she greets him wearing nothing but a bandana around her blonde locks and some small flowers on tiny vines, each strategically positioned. She smelled faintly of coconut oil. She then beckons for him to sit down next to her.
“Tell me,” she begins suggestively, slithering
closer to him, “We’ve both been out here for many months. You must have been lonely. When was the last time you had a really good ride?”
She stares into his eyes.
He can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“You mean…” he swallows excitedly as tears start to form in his eyes, “You’ve built a Motorcycle?”
— David Campbell
Earl’s Garage – Motorcycle, Hotrod, and Event Photography
www.earlsgarage.co
COMING UP–Saturday I worked with Frankie on his FXR. Seems Spitfire Motorcycles could never repair his girder so we moved on and started to piece a 39mm narrow glide together with Custom Cycle Engineering and Harley parts. It’s brand new from the axle to the CCE dogbone risers. We started rewiring the bike, We installed the trees and bars, hooked up the throttle and the clutch cable and prepared to install the freshly painted tank.
Then hopefully we will dive into the Salt Torpedo frame build while I collect parts and pieces. Charles is picking up a Bassani exhaust system bar on Tuesday and working with another company on an intake bracket to use Typhoon carb from Carl’s Speed Shop. Old on for the next report.
And ride free forever, goddammit.
–Bandit
