In the Beginning there was a 20041200 Screamin’ Eagle SportsterGiven the full bling-bling treatment…
Yes, very spiffy indeed. Enough chrometo flash messages to the moon…now the taskto toss it back some 40 years and transport itsappearance all the way from Milwaukee tothe Ace Café in London…Project Nortster is officially launched.
Chapter One:
Like all great plans of mice and men this one has been simmering for years, close to 30 if brain damage isn’t muddying the pools of my memory banks. I believe the first indelible image was the cover of a 1978 Cycle World that showed a nasty looking black Harley café-ized Sportster, something Willie G. Davidson conjured up, the XLCR first appearing as a 1977 model. It was a quantum leap from previous Sporties sporting a svelte gas tank melding into a seat/tail section that looked a little science fiction. Add a mini-European style café bullet fairing, siamesed blacked out pipes and pipes that hugged a black crinkle finish engine and a pair of seven-spoke mag wheels. I was in love. Unrequited love. At that point in my freelance writer career, the emphasis was on “free,” and I didn’t the scratch to buy a skateboard.
It would take a dozen years before I could scare up the money to buy a used XLCR. I was in heaven, gnarly Harley heaven. It felt, rode and sounded like I knew it would. I promptly took it over to a well-known Harley dealership for a check-over and tune-up, new lubricants, etc. to start with a clean slate. Hitching a ride to the bike shop where I was told the bike was A-Okay, I paid the bill, climbed on the bike and putted off into the afternoon, intent on a long blast through the surrounding L.A. countryside up toward the mountains. I got about ten miles and a horrible knocking told me things were not right. The bike lost power but kept on rolling along as if determined to get me back to civilization which it did, although leaving a plume of smoke. An autopsy discovered a blown piston had eaten a hole in the cylinder wall. Why, how, who, what where? All those questions went unanswered. Nobody knew nothing. I didn’t have any money left over for an engine rebuild. I put out an ad and in a couple days a guy with an Australian accent rolled up with a trailer, paid me the money I had asked for without blinking an eye,and took it away. Twas a sad day indeed.
At last my own XLCR! The previous owner had tossed the front fender so he could lace on a bigger front tire. Less than 100 miles later the bike gave up the ghost, eating a piston.(As for the swollen helmet, I was experimenting with an onboard navigation system directly wired to my frontal lobes. Remember this photo was taken pre-GPS nearly 20 years ago. But eventually I would find my way back to the CR, well, sort of, via the Nortster but minus the meltdown.
Chapter Two:
Some months later and going through bikelessness withdrawals, I found myself walking into a somewhat hole in the wall British bike show with room for about three or four old Triumphs. I had seen a Union Jack flag painted on the side of the small building and ambled in. As I ambled I came upon the shop’s owner/mechanic stuffing a motorcycle into a trash bin. It was something spray painted green and had apparently been left out in the elements for an unknown period of time. It appeared to be a Norton of unknown vintage. It was covered in rust, grime, corrosion, etc. The shop owner said it was beyond help and not worth his time to fix. My brain ran a scan of green lump…and noted alloy rims, PM Hurst-Airheart disc brakes, dual up front and one rear, real Dunstall mufflers. Someone had spent some time and money on this bike. On impulse, call it intuition, call it frenzy, I offered $75 for the pile of parts. The bike shop guy’s eyes lit up. He thought I was nuts. My eyes lit up. My gut told me the bike still had heart. I handed over the money and now owned a 750 Norton Commando that I had saved from a dumpster. Dumpster, Nortster…. Now I realize the connection.
In any case I dragged the carcass home. For the next ten days I worked on that bike for some 16 hours a day, sometimes round the clock. With only hand tools, inspiration, perspiration and one very handy Dremel tool, I brought the Norton back to snortin’. I cleaned, scrubbed, brushed, polished every single centimeter of that bike literally removing layer upon layer of grit and grease. Something told me I could save the British triple chrome lurking beneath and yes, the Dunstall mufflers shown anew, the alloy engine cases gleamed, the alloy wheels and spokes sparkled. But I could save the gas tank, side covers, fenders or handlebars, all too far gone.
The hunt started. Swap meets, salvage yards, crusty L.A. bike shops one-step ahead of the building inspectors. As luck would have it I found an original Norton Fastback gas tank, the correct seat and matching tail section, oil tank and side cover. Now I had all the body-parts for the final assembly. The last touch was the silver Norton decal pressed against the black fiberglass tank. Well, next to final touch. Tapping in a fresh battery, oil and gas, I tickled the Amal carbs, then flipped over the kick start lever and pulled in the clutch lever, pushing the kick starter through once, then took a breath, released the clutch lever and gave it firm downward kick. Burble, bark, cough, burble, burble, growl! IT RAN! And it kept running for the year I rode the bike.
Did I mention that I was married during this marathon bike building venture? Did I mention that soon after I was no longer married? My ex-assumed I had left her not for another woman, but for another motorcycle. As happens with many mangled marriages, things got sold, including my pride and joy Norton.
Chapter Three
Fast forward almost 20 years. I’m riding my 20-some year old BMW through a L.A. intersection and a brand new screamin’ yellow Lotus decides it doesn’t want to wait for the red light. The old left-turn routine. No doubt some of you have been there. Me and the Beemer kiss the payment. The Lotus screams away leaving the scene. A witness chases the car, notes a dealer paper license plate but with no numbers, comes back, helps me off the ground, gives a report to the cops. Insurance company (Geico) says it will help with my medical bills, but won’t pay to fix my bike because California has something called “The Phantom Car” clause. If I find the car and driver, they’ll do something. That’s Geico, the green lizard people. That’s another story to be written. But now we’re getting to Chapter Three.
Coming to the rescue is K. Randall Ball, aka Bandit, aka the founder/publisher of Bikernet.com by which you are reading this story. Now I had been writing stuff for Bikernet for a spell and KRB and I went back to years spent at Easyriders. Cutting to the chase, Bandit calls and says he heard I needed some wheels to get around on. Next thing I know he rolls up outside my apartment building and unloads a 1200cc Screamin’ Eagle Sportster complete with a hundred yards of chrome and a custom paint job, basically a bike blinged to the max, a project bike he had worked on and chronicled in the e-pages of Bikernet.com. A real beauty and with performance to match. He handed me the keys.
Yep, I couldn’t leave well enough alone. In my closet, having sat there for some 15 years was another 1960s NOS Norton Fastback gas tank, the matching seat and tail section, even fenders and license plate mount not to mention a set of vintage period NOS mufflers and shocks What goes around, comes around…the Nortster Project had finally come together.
When I told Bandit my mad plan, he simply, “Sure, go for it.” And I went for it.Even the guys at H-D gave the idea a thumbs up…I think that was a thumb, I know it was some finger for sure. In any case, the die has been cast and we’re on a Nortster roll.
Beginning of Chapter Three:
Here’s the plan: Somehow we take a 2004 rubbermount 1200cc Screamin’ Eagle pumped up Sportster Classic, get rid of the 21-inch front and 16-inch rear wheel (and tires) and replace them with 18 inchers. We figure a way to run two exhaust pipes, one on either side of the bike to which we add a pair of Dunstall mufflers (we have them). Okay not too difficult. But the Big Iffy is finding a way to “adjust” the stock Sportster frame to accommodate the Norton tank/seat (which we also have). And, oh yeah, we want to switch to 7/8th inch handlebars (have them) but need levers and controls to go with them, something functional/vintage. And maybe a big Smiths speedo or tach or something like that for a nod to the Vincent Black Shadow solo instrumentation. And some lighter pegs/brake and shifter levers to lighten up the originals. Power to weight is the name of the game. We’d like to shed about 100 lbs. from the original. That’s where YOU out there in Bikernet.com come in. Offers, suggestions, parts, services, donations, incantations all welcome. Who knows where this will go….all options are open. So just call or email, and let’s get started on the Snortin’ Nortster.
Sidebar: Others Who Tried
Egli-Lucifer’s Hammer
In 1991 Swiss racing champ and bike builder took one his special steel spine frames and stuffed it with a 1607cc Harley v-twin. He named the bike “Lucifer’s Hammer” after H-D’s mid-'80s racer. It was very fast and very loud and very politically incorrect for conservative Switzerland, Egli’s home turf.
The Harley motor was “upgraded” with Cosworth pistons, Carillo rods and Manley valves. Polished unpainted aluminum gas tank, side panels, fenders and seat set it all off. Solidly mounted in the frame (yes, ours is rubber-mounted, thank goodness), it shook like the beast it was but its Egli suspension helped throwing it throw the curves. Other components included 18-inch alloy wheels, Lockheed disc brakes and White Power monoshock. At 520 lb. and pumping out 120 HP, it lived up to its name.
Goodman HDS1200
Appearing in the same year, 1991, as the Egli bike, the Goodman HDS1200 was brainchild of Simon Goodman of British Velocette motorcycle fame. Wanting to blend the past and present he adapted a classic Norton Featherbed frame built by his company to house a 1200 C Harley Sportster motor. This time the focus was on handling and the parts included Marzocchi forks, Koni shocks and Brembo brakesclamping down on 18-inch magnesium wheels. The bike also benefited from Goodman’s own rubber-mounting system that unshook the engine. Great handling and performance met up, the HDS(S for Sport) weighing in at 450lb and capable of 125 mph, a very tidy package indeed.
