It doesn’t make any sense, but what does except cool custom bikes and hot women? It’s all a dichotomy. Like the preacher who drinks whiskey, the family man who builds wild choppers and hangs around sexy broads. It’s oil and water, the wicked and the pure, the virgin and satin.
But then there are the gray areas. Most of us fit somewhere in the gray clouds of life, like the guy who owns a bar, but is highly religious. Or the family man who never swayed, stayed married, raised kids and sent them to college, but made their livelihood with a chain of liquor stores.
Lee Wimmer may or may not fit into this formula. He’s a retired machine shop owner who has always loved super-cool custom motorcycles. Lee has been married to the same woman, Nancy, for a long time, and raised three sons who are now running Wimmer Machine while dad is semi-retired.
Their machine shop keeps the lights on manufacturing components for general industry and anyone who needs a part made. “It’s tough to make it in the custom motorcycle industry,” Lee said.
Now, his two older sons, Matt and Greg, handle the purely machining end of the business. His younger son, Ryan, manages the motorcycle side.
Ryan oversees the vast Wimmer line of intakes and other products, plus he’s currently working on several intake part numbers for Indian.
Another key player came to work for Lee just out of high school, Jay Rosenberger. Jay is just now turning 50 and is now the plant manager. The picture is clear. This is a group of folks who love custom shit, built with honor, integrity, honesty, and solid business practices, or they wouldn’t still be in business 35 years later.
So, what’s the dark side? Can you mean it’s possible to be attracted to the metal flake world of custom motorcycles, glitz, fast nights, and faster bikes, without being a mad man, drugged, womanizing bikers? How can it be?
Maybe the answer was partially answered when I asked about the cute tattooed babe straddling the bike his wife inspired when she bought him the frame from Jack, the Hamster.
“Never met her,” Lee said. “Nancy bought the frame and I had to build something cool.”
He ordered a TP 121-inch motor, a Baker transmission and went to work.
“The frame was incredibly strong,” Lee said. “I could have built a Bonneville bike out of it.”
That comment brought up a discussion about racing at Bonneville, a friend of his, and a customer. He was helping a local guy build a Bonneville bike, but the man was hit by a car and disabled, his Bonneville dreams stalled.
As we spoke, he mentioned his own disconnected void created by his retirement. I suggested furthering this man’s Bonneville dream, and energizing a new passion in his life. You may see another report on a new Bonneville racing project in the near future.
Back to the babe. I asked Jack, our esteemed photographer about Lucky and he didn’t know her name.
“She answered a Model Mayhem ad I ran on Saturday night in Myrtle Beach,” said Jack, “and we shot together on Sunday, the next morning. She was a local girl looking for more clients.”
I’m beginning to sense a generational shift here. Custom bikes don’t represent the biker lifestyle anymore. It’s not about riding all night, drinking whiskey, snorting Dago Crude, and chasing a stripper for a weekend. That was my generation and I miss it, although, I’m regarded with disdain in some family circles.
Today, building a custom motorcycle is more about style, creativity, the craft, and being a solid family man. What’s wrong with that? Okay, so who has Lucky’s phone number? I’ve got a client for her, me…
–Bandit
This bike is for sale.
