We checked into the Wendover Nugget late that night with a broken motorcycle, two teeth busted off the distributor drive gear and just 50 miles on our Bonneville project. We woke up at exactly 7:00 a.m. My cell phone rattled across the nightstand. Berry Wardlaw, the boss of Accurate Engineering, wanted to know every move. Hell, it was 10:00 a.m. in Dotham, Alabama.
Nyla and Kerry set up the Bikernet headquarters with our new Sponsorship banner. Glenn and I tossed an On-Site down on the tarps to catch any oil or debri off the bike and unloaded the Salt Shaker. We rolled it into place and went to work while the Chop and Grind bastards sat around and poked fun at us.
I backed off the pushrods and removed them, removed the cam cover and retrieved the busted gear teeth and scrutinized the distributor drive gear in the cam case. She was cool. I borrowed a magnet from the bastards next door and dug around in the cam case for shavings. I was on a mission to make the Salt Shaker run again.
The two teeth bounced right to the forefront of the case, as if someone positioned them for easy access. More damage and I could have been dead in the water. I called Berry, and he coached me on adjusting the valves. I’m not a big fan of hydraulics. They’re uncertain and I don’t believe you can get the best performance out of their soft existence.
Dr. Hamster and Gene Koch, from Drag Specialties drove out to assist. Glenn and the good doctor began to remove the controls, the dash, and flip over the bars. They removed the shocks and dropped in the struts we made to lower the bike. Plus, they removed the taillight and taped the headlight with duct tap. I was reaching a turning point. We installed our heat wrapped step-tuned exhaust for the salt.
I buttoned up the engine, adjusted the valves and fired her up. She rumbled to life, as if she was meant to be there. We adjusted the controls for Valerie and she rode it for the first time. It was time to take the bike to Tech Inspection. I was narrowing in on our first pass. I suppose most first-time racers shake-up the butterflies in their stomach, as they near tech with their experimental babies. I ran into enough disturbing glitches in this project to scramble my mental doubts. As Valerie made her first warm-up lap into the salt I followed her every move, like a father watching his baby take her first lap in a pool. I questioned every adjustment, every fastener and every decision.
I’d never experienced Tech, but the Bubs Inspector was light hearted and easy going but thorough. He had a vast, printed checklist but slipped through the categories with confident ease. As the inspection neared the end he asked if we safety wired the transmission and engine oil drain plugs. The answer was, “Nope.” And finally he pointed out that one of our wheel valve stem caps was not metal—god forbid. Scooter, our photographic connection from Phoenix, hauled ass to find one. While Val made another warm-up pass we discussed drilling the oil drain plugs. Larry from the Chop and Grind Gang made a pass, lost his velocity stack and clocked 143 mph. Not bad for his first time out. Fortunately Lee Wimmer supplied us with his velocity stack kit, so we had spares.
The salt surface spread out around us, for 65 square miles, as if a pure white surface on the moon. People have mistakenly lost direction in the dark and never found their way out. It’s bizarre and pure beauty at the same time. As the sun dipped in the west we packed up and headed toward town. Since the wind can whip up in the afternoon, like nature’s cleaning lady with a wicked broom, we were recommended to tear down our headquarters every night and secure our bike.
The next morning ushered in a big day in the history of Bikernet.com. We rolled out of the hotel around 8:30 a.m. after fighting poor hotel, restaurant help for a cup of coffee. We drained the oil from the tranny and the engine after a warm-up and Larry from the Chop and Grind Pirartes drilled the plugs. Glenn safety wired them back into place and we refilled the oil bags with Amsoil synthetic oils. Nick Roberts from Nick’s Performance and Amsoil rode out to the salts on his 2003 Road Glide and ran it in the run-what-ya brung category, between assisting us on the salt. He was a helluva helpful sponsor.
The brotherhood in the Bub’s tiny encampment on the salt was exceptional. Everyone helped everyone. A fuel truck contained the Sparkplug Doctor, who would analyze any plugs and make recommendations. We had him take a look at ours before our first run. “They haven’t seen enough heat yet,” he told us, “but you certainly don’t have any problems. Go for it.”
Wink Eller was a constant source of information and advice. I ran into Brian Klock and his girlfriend, rider, the lovely Laura, who brought her two daughters to experience the vast desert of salt and speed. While we tuned and prepared for our final tech inspection Hugh King, Roger Goldhammer and Matt Hotch shot footage for their Discovery Channel Biker Build-off. I found a carburetor jet connection for Roger’s bike, a big burly biker with a box of jets and a flathead Indian.
I was still at a loss about the categories and racing etiquette, but I was scrambling to learn. Before the end of the week I told folks, “I try to learn something everyday, but on the salt I was learning something every minute.” I didn’t hesitate to ask the seemingly stupidest question. I needed to know and race, goddamnit. I grabbed a Bub’s AMA rule book and studied the categories. I couldn’t find the record for the open bike in the pushrod 2000 cc class. I asked what it meant and was told, “The category may be open.” That meant whatever we ran, if we were successful, would set a record in the AMA book. There’s three sanctioning bodies: AMA, FIM (European) and SCTA (Southern California Timing Association). The SCTA runs Speed Week, the World Finals in October, on the salt, and the El Mirage, dry lake bed, events.
Valeria rode the shaker some more. Glenn rode it while Valerie, an experienced Destroyer drag racer, suited up. We were ready to hit the salt. This was turning out to be more of an adventure than I ever anticipated. The Salt was amazing in the best condition in half a decade. The people represented brotherhood in its finest form. There was competition, but the mood was all about survival and speed. We wanted everyone to succeed. The Sun was warm, but not blistering. The sky was as blue and crystal clear as her eyes. Every photograph was amazing.
There was also an amazing historic aspect to Bub’s 3rd annual International Speed Trials. The Boss of Bubs Exhaust, Dennis Manning, a Salt Flats junkie since he was a kid, was determined to break the World Land Speed Record set by myself, and the Easyriders team, 16-years prior in 1990, at 321 mph. We beat ourselves up on the salt to take the land speed record from a dual Kawasaki powered streamliner, of 317 mph, owned by Don Vesco.
Dennis was so determined to own the record he started his own event, to allow him more time on the track. You can imagine the expense. For 16 years he and others tried time after time to bust that record open, but the readers of Easyriders held fast. There were four teams on salt poised to take their best shot at the record, while we messed with our own Salt Shaker, Brian Klock prayed for the worlds fastest bagger and Roger Goldhammer prepared to set a record for his first time out. Each camp, tent, trailer and team had a goal. Even the bastards next to us, those sand and salt snorting bastard bikers from 18 Palms, California were shooting for something. Fuck if I know what it was?
The big dog streamliner teams consisted of a dual Hyabusa powered Ack Attack streamliner, Dennis Manning’s pure American Bubs team with his self-designed V-4 engine, Sam Wheeler’s beautiful, dual Kawasaki-powered green streamliner and a dual Vincent powered black streamlined beauty.
Valerie and I lined up at the staging tent for our first run when the Ack Attack made their first pass on the long, 11-mile course and smoked the record for the first time in 16 years. Like a bullet passing in the distance we watched it rumble like a freight train through the traps at 339 mph. The miniature tent city went quiet for a long moment, then all involved cheered for the Ack Attack team.
But that’s not all. For an official speed record, two passed must be completed in 2 hours. The two speeds are averaged for the final tally. The Ack Attack team had 2 hours to get their shit together and back down the salt. We moved up in line. Then Valerie was called to the starting stage two miles down the salt. There’s a short course for smaller displacement open bikes.
Valerie rode the Salt Shaker to the starting gate for her first run. Scooter gave me a lift in his SUV and shot photos of us as we checked the bike over, tie-wrapped the kickstand up and I discussed the run with Valerie. She rode a turbo-charged V-Rod last year for 153 mph. She knew was she was getting into.
She looked up at me after polishing her face shield and I told her to take it easy, to feel the handling capabilities of the bike on the first pass. It’s designed as a sport bike, not a raked out, straight line beast. I wanted to see how she handled before we poured the power to her, besides the bike, the engine and the transmission still weren’t broke in.
We waited under a single tent two miles from the timed mile marker, surrounded by bare salt and waited for the two riders, in front of us, to approach the line. Only one bike runs at a time, and it must clear the track 5 miles away before the next bike can take off. We waited patiently for reports.
Finally Val was given the green light to approach the line 50 yards deeper into the salt. She was coached to ride out, align the Pan with the cones and watch for the official to drop the green flag. She did, rolled near the line, adjusted her position, and glanced back at the tent. Finally he received the signal over his walkie-talkie and the young official wearing reflectorized shades unfolded the green flag and waved it frantically in Val’s direction.
Unlike drag, dirt or speedway racing Val wasn’t required to speed away at the first huff in the flag. She shut her chromium facemask, took a long breath and crouched as low as she could on the Shaker. We had always intended to add some rear pegs to allow her to stretch out, but ran out of time. She let out the clutch and began to roll up to speed.
Scooter and I listened to that sweet engine pull her along the salt through one gear, then another. She had six with the Baker touring transmission. It sounded like a new freight train rumbling from one gear to the next. No hiccups, burps, just pure pumping Panhead, Ross pistons, firing behind two plugs and dual Dyna coils. We listened to that sound, we love so goddamn much, for as long as we could, then stood there quietly, as if to absorb the pure joy of every reverberation.
I turned back to the official. “Is there anyway I can get that speed,” I asked?
He picked up his radio and called the timing station, then turned back to me. “That was 140. 3 mph.”
I was stunned. I couldn’t believe it. I would have been please with anything over 100 mph for the first pass. I was blown away. We jumped in Scooter’s car and hauled ass to the other end of the track and the impound area. You can’t take your bike back to the pits, it must remain in impound until you’re free or prepped to make the return pass.
In impound you can fix anything, but you can’t change any performance aspect of the bike or switch an engine. The Panhead needed nothing except the required tie-wrap to secure the kickstand. Most of these bikes don’t even have kickstands. We waited our turn while the Ack Attack made another pass. We were much closer to the track where we stood and watched the dual Hyabusa blast past for a thundering, record run of over 345 mph, for the new world record of 342 mph and change. We just watched history take place before our very eyes.
The sun was still high on a crisp, beautiful day. The WLSR changed hands and the Bikernet Salt Shaker was staged to entered the AMA record books. What could be better, and the day wasn’t over. Valerie hadn’t even hit 6th gear. She made her return pass and wasn’t sure of shifting, but she made that Panhead sing once more for 139 mph and the Bikernet Salt Shaker entered the AMA record books at just a hair over 140 mph.
We returned to our pit area to discuss gearing, tuning and timing while Dennis Manning pulled his fire-engine red Bubs streamline onto the salt for his first run. It split through the traps so smooth the small crowd of enthusiast stood still in the afternoon sun a wondered what speed it could possible clock. The numbers came back in the high 340s. Less than an hour later the Bubs Streamliner peeled along the salt at over 350 mph and broke the record once more at over 350 mph. History was made and broken twice in one day on the glistening salt.
The wind kicked up on the salt as the Monday afternoon sun set and the crew scrambled to tie-down our pit area and head for the casinos. The girls gambled and the guys discussed history, performance, clutch plates, gearing, rpms, tuning and aerodynamics. Blood pumped high as the night lingered and thoughts of top speeds filled the next day’s agenda. I was on the phone to Berry a dozen times. “I’m jumping up and down in my kitchen,” Berry hollered about our runs. “I’m proud of your guys.”
I was also damn proud of his Outlaw 120-inch Panhead engine. I’m not sure you want to hear every blow-by-blow move during this weeklong quest, but what the hell. It kept getting better. Tuesday morning we were back on the salt with high intentions. Valerie reported that the John Reed designed V-Rod with Wil Phillips suspension upgrades and his True-Track in place handled like a dream, straight and true. She was completely comfortable and wanted a True-Track for her V-rod.
We had just a couple of hitches. We weren’t sure of the rpms, because of my piss poor wiring, lack-of-direction-reading capabilities. Between Berry’s computer, our speed, the BDL gearing and Larry’s calculations we figured the engine ran 5,800 rpms. I was about to change our rear sprocket from a 48-tooth job to 41 teeth when Berry figured that we still had a long way to go with our current configuration. “Let’s see if we can’t get her up to 6,500 rpms in fifth gear,” He said. “My calculations show that she will do 168 mph at 6,500 rpm.” Sounded good to me. We changed the timing to 32 degrees before top dead center and had the plug doctor evaluate the plugs. The primary plugs were cool, but the secondary set were hot, but just a hair.
Nyla and the girls sought out a batch of cooler plugs and we rolled the bike back to staging where Larry attempted to retime the engine with timing lights. What a bitch that was, trying to view the timing mark in the oil hole with a 1-inch plastic lense screwed into the threads. No can do. We made a mark on the BDL belt pulley and gave it another shot. Static timing worked the best. Val made another pass after the Ack Attack threatened Dennis Manning’s record with a 347 pass. If they backed it up over 355 they would rock the world once more. Dave Campos showed up with the Easyriders Streamline in tow to watch the action. He was our ER rider, record breaker. Val kicked the Salt Shaker speed up to over 145 mph and we were pumped.
I had the Salt bug. I wanted to witness the Shaker break Val’s previous salt speed of 153. I was sure we could make 155 or better. Unfortunately the gremlins of the Salt didn’t support my contention and Val made a 137 mph return pass. The Ack Attack couldn’t make a back-up at all and missed their Tuesday comeback run. The Vincent rumbled through the traps missing and sputtering. Jay Allen of the Broken Spoke Saloon, made one successful pass after another on his beat-up, lowered all orange FXR. Brian Klock and Laura made one dresser pass after another pushing 140 mph.
Ray Wheeler, on his street hot rod Dyna peeled through the traps at 137 mph. He was jumping outta his skin. A gentleman with a 50 cc streamline broke 130 mph and an open Buell blast topped 130 mph.
My mind spun like the gauge on a nitrous bottle. Records were breaking, wrenches were flying and bikes were whizzing through the traps. Everyday the Bub’s team tried to improve the run waiting times, so more guys could make more passes. My Australian team partner got sick and his German doctor counterpart took over. Wil Phillips, of True-Track and Salt Shaker suspension showed up to back up our team.
The weather kicked up in the afternoon and rain threatened. The front moved onto the flats like an ominious natural threat. We hung on as long as we could, then tore down the encampment, as if a team changing sets at a play. We hustled and hauled ass.
We hauled ass to the salt early Wednesday morning and rolled the Shaker to the staging area and started to make adjustments. This was our shot. We needed Val to drive the revs and make sure she pounded through the traps in 5th gear. We installed the hot Lee Wimmer velocity stack without the screen. The wait was grueling in the sun and fatique from standing on the salt pulled me down, like a battery setting on a concrete floor. I was drained, until Sam wheeler pulled up with three plates stacked high with slabs of watermelons, like a plate of steaks to starving cannibals. Val, Wil and I devoured the sweetness and were revived.
Val made another pass in 4th gear at 127 against a 13 mph wind. The elevation in Bonneville is over 4,000 feet and we discovered that at sea level the bikes would run 20 percent faster. We owned a fast Panhead, maybe the world’s fastest in our division. Sam wheeler rolled his dual Kawasaki streamliner to the starting line on the long course. He made his run and turned the camp on its ear once more for a single pass record for the event of 355 mph. Tires are rare for streamliner and most are used and porous. Dennis loaned Sam a rubber for the front wheel, and Sam prayed for two passes. Unfortunately, after the traps the tire went flat and the streamliner rolled over at slow speeds. No replacement was available and his 2006 Salt Flat effort was over.
Alan Gurgler, from Cycle World said, “Manufacturers won’t make tires because liability reasons, yet not a single person has died on a motorcycle at the flats. No one has even been severely injured.” We all promised to lean on Larry Hoppe at Avon or search out another manufacturer. We were running Avon, Z-rated (200 mph) tires on the Shaker.
We didn’t make a return run but got back in line, checked the bike over and prepared for another pass, then another dark front moved in, like a dense fog over a harbor. Except this mass brought high winds and we were forced to shut the camp down and fly to the Casino. We talked about renting a motor home next year.
The final day was balls out. Berry asked me to adjust the timing like I would the needle on a carburetor. We fired up the engine and I twisted the distributor for maximum rpms, then locked her down. I was supposed to check the tire pressure and and push them to the max for the rating, for reduced drag. Glenn recovered from Salt Late Mung and returned to his post. The Good doctor jumped Gene Koch’s BMW and headed back to the coast. Wil helped Glenn tighten every nut and bold and we prepared for a final pass on the last day.
She passed throught the traps at 137 mph, which wasn’t bad, but we needed to back it up with the wind at our backs at over 150 to jack up our record once more. Through the traps, the bike sputtered and quit. We checked the fuel filter and figured that my street valve wasn’t allowing as much fuel into the carb as it needed. We also check for a vacuum problem in the tank venting. We thought she was good to go.
She lined up at the stage, the flag dropped and she took off, but before she reached the first mile marker the bike sputtered and died. A professional, she immediately pulled off the track and we check her out. It didn’t sound right. There was a clanking in the top end, so I immediately shut her down. We called her quits and pulled the Shaker into the inspection area. I was proud she hung together under these high altitude, top-speed-continuously, conditions.
Wil Phillips, Glenn and I tore the top end off the engine so that the Bubs inspector could verify our engine displacement. The inspector looked at my pistons and said, “Jesus, I need a longer set of calipers. These things are massive.”
That struck me, like a bolt of lightening. I looked across the inspection area at a 130 mph Buell blast with a lousy 400 ccs. I knew then that we had the power in this Accurate Pan to build the Worlds Fastest Panhead. We didn’t need revs. We need aerodynamics and gearing. We came back with a plan and you’ll see it come together on Bikerne.com. Berry Wardlaw is working on the engine. I’m going to design the chassis with Chris Kallas and Wil Phillips as the artist/engineers behind the madness. I’m hoping to work with Leo, the man who designed the girder front end on Roger Gold Hammers bike. The list goes on. I’m hoping to give you a teaser sketch right here in the next couple of weeks.
May the need for speed never end! Many thanks to all our sponsors.
–Bandit
Here’s a couple of shots from the run out and the trip home. We couldn’t resist.
