Occasionally we receive girl prospects from other photogs or web sites. Jack McIntyre of Bikerpics.Org tossed Leslie on our loading dock.

”She was great to work with,” Jack said handing me her dufflebag. “As I gather more cash, I'll hopefully be doing shoots like this weekly.”

I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but her nipples intrigued me. Was he pimping her out and she ditched a customer, so Jack cut her loose? My mind whirled with options. Bandit would love her. He’s a tit man and those nipples called to the wild.

The bike, a 2004 PITBULL CHOPPER, from Orlando, FL, (Pitbull Motorcycle Company), belongs to Jack. I was still trying to make a connection. Maybe she dinged his evil green flame job, so he tossed her to the curb.

”Leslie recently moved to Philadelphia from Florida. She has a few sites of her own going and has received a lot of good press around here.

Leslie’s two sites are:
www.iwantkatie.com
www.katievirgin.com

I pressed Jack on the girl. Bandit, that lightweight, will try to give me shit if I don’t deliver a descent story. Fuck him. I’ve worked for the bastard for 40 years. He don’t bother me. “I don’t know Leslie very well other than she has moved here from Florida & has two adult web sites going,” Jack muttered unconvincingly. “If you suggest, I can email her for some info.”

That would help. I could also use a chart on the bike to help the guys at Pitbull.

”I attached an article that Steve Bohn, the editor of HOT BIKE wrote about me. I hope that you can read it. The article describes me about as well as possible. My PITBULL is a 2004 hard tail. It has a 133 Midwest Ultima, Wicked Bros. pipes, and so on. I have about 26,000 miles on it as I drag it from event to event with two NIKON D200’s hanging like two big hand guns. I actually look crazy driving in and out of the bars in Florida & have become fairly well known because of that.”

He sent me a thumbnail image of a half page article I didn’t want to read anyway. What’s HOT BIKE know about girls? They banned ‘em.

I decided, fuck it. She’s hot. We’re glad to have Leslie on board as an esteemed member of the Girls of Bikernet. The bike is cool and Bandit can pound sand, if he doesn’t like the story. Jack has a hot site that’s devoted to Biker Photography, so there.

jack mcintyre
BIKERPICS.ORG
1236 HIGHLAND AVE
ABINGTON, PA 19001
610-636-5848

Occasionally we receive girl prospects from other photogs or web sites. Jack McIntyre of Bikerpics.Org tossed Leslie on our loading dock.

”She was great to work with,” Jack said handing me her dufflebag. “As I gather more cash, I'll hopefully be doing shoots like this weekly.”

I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but her nipples intrigued me. Was he pimping her out and she ditched a customer, so Jack cut her loose? My mind whirled with options. Bandit would love her. He’s a tit man and those nipples called to the wild.

The bike, a 2004 PITBULL CHOPPER, from Orlando, FL, (Pitbull Motorcycle Company), belongs to Jack. I was still trying to make a connection. Maybe she dinged his evil green flame job, so he tossed her to the curb.

”Leslie recently moved to Philadelphia from Florida. She has a few sites of her own going and has received a lot of good press around here.

Leslie’s two sites are:
www.iwantkatie.com
www.katievirgin.com

I pressed Jack on the girl. Bandit, that lightweight, will try to give me shit if I don’t deliver a descent story. Fuck him. I’ve worked for the bastard for 40 years. He don’t bother me. “I don’t know Leslie very well other than she has moved here from Florida & has two adult web sites going,” Jack muttered unconvincingly. “If you suggest, I can email her for some info.”

That would help. I could also use a chart on the bike to help the guys at Pitbull.

”I attached an article that Steve Bohn, the editor of HOT BIKE wrote about me. I hope that you can read it. The article describes me about as well as possible. My PITBULL is a 2004 hard tail. It has a 133 Midwest Ultima, Wicked Bros. pipes, and so on. I have about 26,000 miles on it as I drag it from event to event with two NIKON D200’s hanging like two big hand guns. I actually look crazy driving in and out of the bars in Florida & have become fairly well known because of that.”

He sent me a thumbnail image of a half page article I didn’t want to read anyway. What’s HOT BIKE know about girls? They banned ‘em.

I decided, fuck it. She’s hot. We’re glad to have Leslie on board as an esteemed member of the Girls of Bikernet. The bike is cool and Bandit can pound sand, if he doesn’t like the story. Jack has a hot site that’s devoted to Biker Photography, so there.

jack mcintyre
BIKERPICS.ORG
1236 HIGHLAND AVE
ABINGTON, PA 19001
610-636-5848

There’s nothing like riding 2,100 miles to the Badlands and being greeted by the Girls of Bikernet, Kimberly and Beki. This experience went beyond a couple of knockouts saying hello as I rubbed 60 weight on my sunburnt face and downed my first Corona. Kimberly, the exotic burnette and Beki, the tall strawberry blonde, came on me like long lost lovers anxious for a night in the sack.

Both girls, from Baltimore, knew how to make every guy and girl who strolled into the HardBikes booth on Lazelle feel a strange, sexy, loveable and joyous connection. That’s what Sam Dixon looks for as he created his Bikini Dream Team which he hauls from event to event on the eastern seaboard. These girls are available through SamDixon.com to make your event shine. From time to time they’ll be representing the Girls of Bikernet. “I look for girls with personality first,” Sam said, “then looks. I’ve had to let some knockouts go for a girl who is vivacious, out- going, fun and flexible.” Sam is a master carnie who knows how to train girls to work a crowd while nearly naked.

It’s all is fun and many of the girls become spokeswomen for builders and shops. Beki, who rides a Gixer at 140 mph, barrel races horses competively, is going to college and works in a Baltimore Hooters. She is now the spokesperson for Top Notch Custom Cycles in Fredricksburg, Virginia.

Kimberly is no slouch either, as a college student and manager of a Baltimore marina. She’s worked for Sam just two months, whereas Becky has completed 18 month on the Dream Team.

Bob Kay, VP, contacted me from HardBikes and asked for a couple of girls from the Girls of Bikernet to create some action at their booth. No problem. I contacted Pepper at the Sturgis Museum and asked what the city dress code was. Pepper called the police and snatched the word. Pasties and thongs were cool. We confirmed that with Bob and hooked him up with the famous Girls of Bikernet connection.

”I know what draws the crowds and the tips for the girls,” Sam said. “Thongs and pasties do the job slapped on the right girls.” Later the boss of Hardbikes required more clothing and the crowds and tips diminished. “Snooze ya lose,” says the code.

In the future we may have girls available for events with signed Girls of Bikernet Posters to give out for tips. Sam currently has 17 smiling, bouncy girls in his crew including the original Girl of Bikernet, Livia, his cousin.

Sam and Livia hit events all over the country, and he shoots dazzling photographs of her on world class customs from coast to coast. Sam is in the process of launching “Biker Beauties” a new bike magazine, in a three state region, on the east coast. Contact Sam or Livia if you would like your bikes shot for his new mag. You can’t go wrong. Livia is a knockout and Sam is a helluva photographer.

Sam and I are working with Motorbooks Int. to produce a book of Sam’s photographic work and motorcycles. And of course Livia will be beautifully involved.

Most of these shots were taken by Bikernet Radio Engineer, George Najar. You can listen to his Sturgis related interviews in the Bikernet Radio department. Just recently we launched interviews with Russell Mitchel and Jesse Rooke.

But I’m not going to let this feature slip by without a couple of shots by Sam Dixon of Livia and another Girl of Bikernet, who I’m in search of.

Photo by Sam Dixon.

If you would like the Girls of Bikernet to attend your event or grand opening contact me, Bandit@bikernet.com, or Sam Dixon at SamDixon.com.

I even had the pleasure of spending a Badlands evening with Livia. This shot was taken by Sam Dixon.

Okay, I need to work on my Bonneville bike and find out what happened to my engine. I also need to pick up my paint from Jim Murillo. It’s another wild day at Bikernet, but these girls make it all worth while.

There’s nothing like riding 2,100 miles to the Badlands and being greeted by the Girls of Bikernet, Kimberly and Beki. This experience went beyond a couple of knockouts saying hello as I rubbed 60 weight on my sunburnt face and downed my first Corona. Kimberly, the exotic burnette and Beki, the tall strawberry blonde, came on me like long lost lovers anxious for a night in the sack.

Both girls, from Baltimore, knew how to make every guy and girl who strolled into the HardBikes booth on Lazelle feel a strange, sexy, loveable and joyous connection. That’s what Sam Dixon looks for as he created his Bikini Dream Team which he hauls from event to event on the eastern seaboard. These girls are available through SamDixon.com to make your event shine. From time to time they’ll be representing the Girls of Bikernet. “I look for girls with personality first,” Sam said, “then looks. I’ve had to let some knockouts go for a girl who is vivacious, out- going, fun and flexible.” Sam is a master carnie who knows how to train girls to work a crowd while nearly naked.

It’s all is fun and many of the girls become spokeswomen for builders and shops. Beki, who rides a Gixer at 140 mph, barrel races horses competively, is going to college and works in a Baltimore Hooters. She is now the spokesperson for Top Notch Custom Cycles in Fredricksburg, Virginia.

Kimberly is no slouch either, as a college student and manager of a Baltimore marina. She’s worked for Sam just two months, whereas Becky has completed 18 month on the Dream Team.

Bob Kay, VP, contacted me from HardBikes and asked for a couple of girls from the Girls of Bikernet to create some action at their booth. No problem. I contacted Pepper at the Sturgis Museum and asked what the city dress code was. Pepper called the police and snatched the word. Pasties and thongs were cool. We confirmed that with Bob and hooked him up with the famous Girls of Bikernet connection.

”I know what draws the crowds and the tips for the girls,” Sam said. “Thongs and pasties do the job slapped on the right girls.” Later the boss of Hardbikes required more clothing and the crowds and tips diminished. “Snooze ya lose,” says the code.

In the future we may have girls available for events with signed Girls of Bikernet Posters to give out for tips. Sam currently has 17 smiling, bouncy girls in his crew including the original Girl of Bikernet, Livia, his cousin.

Sam and Livia hit events all over the country, and he shoots dazzling photographs of her on world class customs from coast to coast. Sam is in the process of launching “Biker Beauties” a new bike magazine, in a three state region, on the east coast. Contact Sam or Livia if you would like your bikes shot for his new mag. You can’t go wrong. Livia is a knockout and Sam is a helluva photographer.

Sam and I are working with Motorbooks Int. to produce a book of Sam’s photographic work and motorcycles. And of course Livia will be beautifully involved.

Most of these shots were taken by Bikernet Radio Engineer, George Najar. You can listen to his Sturgis related interviews in the Bikernet Radio department. Just recently we launched interviews with Russell Mitchel and Jesse Rooke.

But I’m not going to let this feature slip by without a couple of shots by Sam Dixon of Livia and another Girl of Bikernet, who I’m in search of.

Photo by Sam Dixon.

If you would like the Girls of Bikernet to attend your event or grand opening contact me, Bandit@bikernet.com, or Sam Dixon at SamDixon.com.

I even had the pleasure of spending a Badlands evening with Livia. This shot was taken by Sam Dixon.

Okay, I need to work on my Bonneville bike and find out what happened to my engine. I also need to pick up my paint from Jim Murillo. It’s another wild day at Bikernet, but these girls make it all worth while.

Sheila and Bandit rode up to the Cantina together. She was a bundle of excitement and trepidation with a full stomach of Ruby?s Roadhouse chow. For the first time she rode LA freeways and faced a new clean life ahead. The excited staff waited in front of the massive Oak Cantina doors, as if lined up for inspection. The rotund Chinaman in all-white chef?s attire, little Frankie, his arms wrapped around a push-broom handle, Marko, his arms crossed in indignation, Nyla and Mandy playing grab ass and Tina with a waitress tray in hand, stood anxiously waiting and discussing the outcome.

Bandit pulled up on his King, dismounted and Marko took over pushing it around to one of the staff garages. He wanted out of the limelight. Sheila rode up right behind Bandit on the vintage XLCH and dismounted. Mandy and Tina ran to her side and the lot was filled with female banter. Bandit walked up to Nyla who beamed up at him. Without a word he pulled her gathered top away from her substantial cleavage and looked at her growing braless nipples. ?Where?s your bra?? He asked then bent and kissed her deeply. He left her before she could answer, nodded at the Chinaman and Frankie who immediately tried to grab his attention, and Bandit disappeared into the Cantina and upstairs to his office. ?I swept the whole parking lot boss,? Frankie attempted to spout as his boss vanished.

Marko

?We?ve got a ton to do,? Marko said to disperse the group. The biggest Cantina party night loomed just hours ahead and the crew dove into their chores. Marko worked with Johnny to set up parking lot security and to clear Bandit?s Cantina garage for extra bike storage. Too drunk bikers were welcome to store their bikes overnight and take a cab home.

The Chinaman, who couldn?t speak Spanish, and very little English, marched around his galley shouting orders. Somehow his, mostly Mexican crew, filtered through his Cantonese gibberish and took care of business. Chinaman, with the help of the little family, who lived outside the Cantina in a makeshift hut, mastered the art of tasty salsa and guacamole. Folks rode from the other side of Los Angeles just to have ice cold Coronas with fresh limes, poured into tall frozen mugs with warm chips, salsa and a spicy, buttery guacamole concoction that made folks come back for more.

It helped that the best Avocados in the world were grown just south of LA. The Cantina filled with the warm spicy aromas from the kitchen and drove the patrons hungry.

Nyla

The Band stage was set, the New Years Eve DJ hauled in his equipment. Tina and Mandy decorated the tables, but there was something more than the air of new beginnings or a fresh year ahead. Nyla?s constant bubbly spirit was hindered as she inventoried her bar stock, polished the deep wooden surface and put sparkling glasses away.

Marko told Sheila where to park the classic XLCH and showed her to the changing room. Her locker was still intact, with a freshly cleaned uniform inside. She took a shower, put on fresh make-up and her spotless uniform. For the first time in her life she felt whole and part of a family who cared. She almost danced on air as she entered the dining room to be surrounded by Mandy and Tina. ?What happened?? Mandy said.

Mandy

?Did they torture you,? Tina giggled as she wiped off a table and set up the party display.

?They treated me fine,? Sheila said, ?except for Rip. He was sorta rough on me.?

?Rip was rough on anyone and everyone,? Mandy said. ?Once, I started to get out of hand. A few razor sharp words from him and I walked straight. I knew better.?

?You glad to be back?? Tina said.

?You damn right,? Sheila said. ?It?s all new now and fresh.?

?Take it easy on yourself,? Mandy said. ?It?s the same tough world. Don?t let anything get you down and don?t be tempted.?

Tina

It was still early, a tad past 7:30 and folks started to pour in for dinner, music and the party atmosphere only the Cantina could offer. Bandit recently began to dial the Cantina in with old motorcycle art and some artifacts from the past. The cantina was warm, cozy and smelled inviting thanks to the Chinaman?s fare.

Marco was watching the parking lot and guiding bikers into the bike parking area surrounding the front door, when a sleek sport scar pulled in and a handsome black couple emerged. They looked out of place, as if they were headed for an upscale New Years banquet at the Hilton in downtown Long Beach but lost their way. The gentleman was dressed to the nines and the missus was as hot as a firecracker, with her boobs spilling out and gold and plenty of carats hanging from her dainty earlobes and dancing above her ample cleavage. They joked and giggled as they entered the front door.

Frankie

Marko watched, indicated for Frankie to help several new riders entering the parking lot, and followed the couple inside. They danced inside, found a table, sat and immediately ordered a drink as if they had a reservation.

?Watch that two,? Marko instructed Nyla. ?I?ll be outside. Let me know what they do.?

?You got it,? Nyla said. She was the bouncy one, but also the mom of the bunch. She trained in close quarters combat with Marko on the weekend and he relied on her for security. Some people don?t get the essence of security, how important it is to do little things, to be observant and when the time is called move into action immediately. She knew the drill.

The couple, albeit out of place, giggled and told each other jokes, while other patrons poured in, took tables and enjoyed the Chinaman?s famous chips and salsa. Then Sheila bounced out from the kitchen carrying a platter of guacamole appetizers. She danced across the room toward her assigned area and delivered her thick, ornate ceramic platters decorated on the border with colored chips while a mound of fresh Guac sat like a colorful candle in the center. Each plate was carefully decorated and garnished with salsa and fresh slices of lime.

Sheila

The black gentleman saw Sheila exit the kitchen. He glanced at his girl then followed Sheila across the dining room with quiet direct eyes. Sheila was a knockout, as sexy as a blonde surfer girl could be, but his gaze wasn?t didn?t contain the gawking eyes of a sexual predator. He looked at his girl, winked and they abruptly stood up. He dropped a twenty on the table and they departed as if they ate a mouthful of rancid dip.

The girl looked disturbed as if she didn?t know what was going on and the flashy, suddenly straight-faced dude yanked and flipped open his cell phone the second he cleared the doorway. Nyla reported the reaction to Marko and he followed their departure. Nothing was terribly out of order, but then again somewhat suspicious.

The night proceeded with Mariachi band members playing classical Mexican tunes as a Latin jazz ensemble set up on stage. Bandit liked R&B, the blues by King Cotton and the Kingpins, and Latin Jazz. He liked music that moved a woman?s soul. Folks laughed, and the DJ told jokes and kept the banter lively. It was the end of one wild year and the beginning of another.

The night was all splendor and high spirits, but Marko was on high alert. He made a rare call. It wasn?t the kind of call a man makes but once or twice in a lifetime. It?s the kind of call a brother makes that says, ?We need you here.? No questions asked. They just came.

Indian John, the longtime San Pedro Indian Chief rider rolled in on his jockey shift chopper, pulled up and took his position quietly. John endured throat cancer several years back, but his voice never returned. His dark graying hair was long and pulled into a ponytail. His long beard covered the scars on his neck.

Agent Zebra flew in on a blacked out Softail with moderate highbars and skidded to a stop. He eyed Marko across the lot and yanked open his vest. He pulled two 45 caliber automatics our of his heavy artillery fanny pack, flipped the safeties off and stuck them in his waistband. He was a madman, strong as an ox, ex-bullrider, weightlifter and weapons expert who trained attack dogs for celebrities and high profile execs.

The night rolled on until just after 11:50. A lowered, all-black van, with tinted windows, bright-chromed 21-inch wheels and rubber band tires bounced into the parking lot and pulled into a distant corner, immediately followed by a black limousine. Marko called Bandit in his office. ?I knew it,? Marko said. ?I told you, that broad was going to be trouble.?

?It wasn?t her,? Bandit said. ?Let?s deal with it outside.?

Frankie moved to the Cantina parking entrance on Harbor boulevard and barred the entrance with cones and a sign that said, ?Lot full?sorry.?

Marko buzzed Nyla on the walkie-talkie, ?Bar the door. No one comes out.?

Out of the Van side door jumped three sizeable thugs and two more from the cab. The Limo stopped at the front door and two big men stepped out followed by Dwight, the massive local drug dealer wearing an all-white tux and enough white gold chains to sink a dingy.

All the men were armed and mighty dangerous. The parking lot seemed suddenly empty except for the men in black carrying weapons. They nodded to one another, cocked their weapons, crouched and moved quickly toward the heavy oak front doors.

Together seven men in black and Dwight stormed the door to find it locked. One black man, over 250 pounds yanked on the door. When it wouldn?t budge, he leveled his automatic weapon and cocked it.

?That?s not a good idea,? Bandit said and all the men spun to face the voice machine gun pointed. It suddenly went completely dark in the parking lot. All the towering lot lights flickered off. The landscaping lights around the entrance died and the lights over the front door were extinguished. ?We had a deal, Dwight,? Bandit said. Only the glow of the moon flickered in Bandit?s green eyes. One of Dwight?s men thought he saw Bandit between two cars and raised his weapon. A snap, like the crack of a finely oiled bullwhip filled the air and somewhere in the parking lot a muzzle flash was visible for a split second. The weapon departed the thug?s hand and flew out of reach. He screamed in pain and shock.

?I won?t ask again motherfucker,? Bandit said. ?You can either leave for good and celebrate a new year, or swim in the oily channel.?

You won?t believe what happens next?

Sheila and Bandit rode up to the Cantina together. She was a bundle of excitement and trepidation with a full stomach of Ruby?s Roadhouse chow. For the first time she rode LA freeways and faced a new clean life ahead. The excited staff waited in front of the massive Oak Cantina doors, as if lined up for inspection. The rotund Chinaman in all-white chef?s attire, little Frankie, his arms wrapped around a push-broom handle, Marko, his arms crossed in indignation, Nyla and Mandy playing grab ass and Tina with a waitress tray in hand, stood anxiously waiting and discussing the outcome.

Bandit pulled up on his King, dismounted and Marko took over pushing it around to one of the staff garages. He wanted out of the limelight. Sheila rode up right behind Bandit on the vintage XLCH and dismounted. Mandy and Tina ran to her side and the lot was filled with female banter. Bandit walked up to Nyla who beamed up at him. Without a word he pulled her gathered top away from her substantial cleavage and looked at her growing braless nipples. ?Where?s your bra?? He asked then bent and kissed her deeply. He left her before she could answer, nodded at the Chinaman and Frankie who immediately tried to grab his attention, and Bandit disappeared into the Cantina and upstairs to his office. ?I swept the whole parking lot boss,? Frankie attempted to spout as his boss vanished.

Marko

?We?ve got a ton to do,? Marko said to disperse the group. The biggest Cantina party night loomed just hours ahead and the crew dove into their chores. Marko worked with Johnny to set up parking lot security and to clear Bandit?s Cantina garage for extra bike storage. Too drunk bikers were welcome to store their bikes overnight and take a cab home.

The Chinaman, who couldn?t speak Spanish, and very little English, marched around his galley shouting orders. Somehow his, mostly Mexican crew, filtered through his Cantonese gibberish and took care of business. Chinaman, with the help of the little family, who lived outside the Cantina in a makeshift hut, mastered the art of tasty salsa and guacamole. Folks rode from the other side of Los Angeles just to have ice cold Coronas with fresh limes, poured into tall frozen mugs with warm chips, salsa and a spicy, buttery guacamole concoction that made folks come back for more.

It helped that the best Avocados in the world were grown just south of LA. The Cantina filled with the warm spicy aromas from the kitchen and drove the patrons hungry.

Nyla

The Band stage was set, the New Years Eve DJ hauled in his equipment. Tina and Mandy decorated the tables, but there was something more than the air of new beginnings or a fresh year ahead. Nyla?s constant bubbly spirit was hindered as she inventoried her bar stock, polished the deep wooden surface and put sparkling glasses away.

Marko told Sheila where to park the classic XLCH and showed her to the changing room. Her locker was still intact, with a freshly cleaned uniform inside. She took a shower, put on fresh make-up and her spotless uniform. For the first time in her life she felt whole and part of a family who cared. She almost danced on air as she entered the dining room to be surrounded by Mandy and Tina. ?What happened?? Mandy said.

Mandy

?Did they torture you,? Tina giggled as she wiped off a table and set up the party display.

?They treated me fine,? Sheila said, ?except for Rip. He was sorta rough on me.?

?Rip was rough on anyone and everyone,? Mandy said. ?Once, I started to get out of hand. A few razor sharp words from him and I walked straight. I knew better.?

?You glad to be back?? Tina said.

?You damn right,? Sheila said. ?It?s all new now and fresh.?

?Take it easy on yourself,? Mandy said. ?It?s the same tough world. Don?t let anything get you down and don?t be tempted.?

Tina

It was still early, a tad past 7:30 and folks started to pour in for dinner, music and the party atmosphere only the Cantina could offer. Bandit recently began to dial the Cantina in with old motorcycle art and some artifacts from the past. The cantina was warm, cozy and smelled inviting thanks to the Chinaman?s fare.

Marco was watching the parking lot and guiding bikers into the bike parking area surrounding the front door, when a sleek sport scar pulled in and a handsome black couple emerged. They looked out of place, as if they were headed for an upscale New Years banquet at the Hilton in downtown Long Beach but lost their way. The gentleman was dressed to the nines and the missus was as hot as a firecracker, with her boobs spilling out and gold and plenty of carats hanging from her dainty earlobes and dancing above her ample cleavage. They joked and giggled as they entered the front door.

Frankie

Marko watched, indicated for Frankie to help several new riders entering the parking lot, and followed the couple inside. They danced inside, found a table, sat and immediately ordered a drink as if they had a reservation.

?Watch that two,? Marko instructed Nyla. ?I?ll be outside. Let me know what they do.?

?You got it,? Nyla said. She was the bouncy one, but also the mom of the bunch. She trained in close quarters combat with Marko on the weekend and he relied on her for security. Some people don?t get the essence of security, how important it is to do little things, to be observant and when the time is called move into action immediately. She knew the drill.

The couple, albeit out of place, giggled and told each other jokes, while other patrons poured in, took tables and enjoyed the Chinaman?s famous chips and salsa. Then Sheila bounced out from the kitchen carrying a platter of guacamole appetizers. She danced across the room toward her assigned area and delivered her thick, ornate ceramic platters decorated on the border with colored chips while a mound of fresh Guac sat like a colorful candle in the center. Each plate was carefully decorated and garnished with salsa and fresh slices of lime.

Sheila

The black gentleman saw Sheila exit the kitchen. He glanced at his girl then followed Sheila across the dining room with quiet direct eyes. Sheila was a knockout, as sexy as a blonde surfer girl could be, but his gaze wasn?t didn?t contain the gawking eyes of a sexual predator. He looked at his girl, winked and they abruptly stood up. He dropped a twenty on the table and they departed as if they ate a mouthful of rancid dip.

The girl looked disturbed as if she didn?t know what was going on and the flashy, suddenly straight-faced dude yanked and flipped open his cell phone the second he cleared the doorway. Nyla reported the reaction to Marko and he followed their departure. Nothing was terribly out of order, but then again somewhat suspicious.

The night proceeded with Mariachi band members playing classical Mexican tunes as a Latin jazz ensemble set up on stage. Bandit liked R&B, the blues by King Cotton and the Kingpins, and Latin Jazz. He liked music that moved a woman?s soul. Folks laughed, and the DJ told jokes and kept the banter lively. It was the end of one wild year and the beginning of another.

The night was all splendor and high spirits, but Marko was on high alert. He made a rare call. It wasn?t the kind of call a man makes but once or twice in a lifetime. It?s the kind of call a brother makes that says, ?We need you here.? No questions asked. They just came.

Indian John, the longtime San Pedro Indian Chief rider rolled in on his jockey shift chopper, pulled up and took his position quietly. John endured throat cancer several years back, but his voice never returned. His dark graying hair was long and pulled into a ponytail. His long beard covered the scars on his neck.

Agent Zebra flew in on a blacked out Softail with moderate highbars and skidded to a stop. He eyed Marko across the lot and yanked open his vest. He pulled two 45 caliber automatics our of his heavy artillery fanny pack, flipped the safeties off and stuck them in his waistband. He was a madman, strong as an ox, ex-bullrider, weightlifter and weapons expert who trained attack dogs for celebrities and high profile execs.

The night rolled on until just after 11:50. A lowered, all-black van, with tinted windows, bright-chromed 21-inch wheels and rubber band tires bounced into the parking lot and pulled into a distant corner, immediately followed by a black limousine. Marko called Bandit in his office. ?I knew it,? Marko said. ?I told you, that broad was going to be trouble.?

?It wasn?t her,? Bandit said. ?Let?s deal with it outside.?

Frankie moved to the Cantina parking entrance on Harbor boulevard and barred the entrance with cones and a sign that said, ?Lot full?sorry.?

Marko buzzed Nyla on the walkie-talkie, ?Bar the door. No one comes out.?

Out of the Van side door jumped three sizeable thugs and two more from the cab. The Limo stopped at the front door and two big men stepped out followed by Dwight, the massive local drug dealer wearing an all-white tux and enough white gold chains to sink a dingy.

All the men were armed and mighty dangerous. The parking lot seemed suddenly empty except for the men in black carrying weapons. They nodded to one another, cocked their weapons, crouched and moved quickly toward the heavy oak front doors.

Together seven men in black and Dwight stormed the door to find it locked. One black man, over 250 pounds yanked on the door. When it wouldn?t budge, he leveled his automatic weapon and cocked it.

?That?s not a good idea,? Bandit said and all the men spun to face the voice machine gun pointed. It suddenly went completely dark in the parking lot. All the towering lot lights flickered off. The landscaping lights around the entrance died and the lights over the front door were extinguished. ?We had a deal, Dwight,? Bandit said. Only the glow of the moon flickered in Bandit?s green eyes. One of Dwight?s men thought he saw Bandit between two cars and raised his weapon. A snap, like the crack of a finely oiled bullwhip filled the air and somewhere in the parking lot a muzzle flash was visible for a split second. The weapon departed the thug?s hand and flew out of reach. He screamed in pain and shock.

?I won?t ask again motherfucker,? Bandit said. ?You can either leave for good and celebrate a new year, or swim in the oily channel.?

You won?t believe what happens next?

Don’t know if I can get away with this, or I should start packing again. Let’s go for it. There are a handful of wild men in this industry. I’m sure you’ve run across a couple I don’t even know about. I’m referring to Dr. Neon, Vinnie and Chris Hill. Most of us sorta head down another isle at the show when we stumble across these Walt Disney biker characters.

That's him. Stay away, if you know what's good for you.

Dr. Neon recently rolled into Wilmington looking for a building. He stepped out of the all-black Mercedes, wearing an all-black cloak, lookin’ like an evil tyrant about to take over Gotham City. He musta messed with the preacher’s daughter in North Carolina and was searching for new digs. Last weekend at the LA Calendar show someone displayed a military helicopter turned limo. It could only be a Vinnie creation. Then there’s the owner of this bike.

Chris Hill has been around this industry since straight spoke wheels were a craze that killed riders. That’s still a hot controversy. He designed the ugliest handlebars on the planet, the Hill Bar. They actually work like a dream on dressers. He’s a chrome broker and professes to chrome wood. “Fuck you Bandit,” Chris barked from across the studio. “I chrome anything, plastic, wood, you name it.” He’s the chrome broker to the gods with connections far and wide. He pours Jack Daniels over his cereal in the morning and eats a Valium salads for lunch. “No lettuce, please.”

Okay, so I’m a good hearted soul and give him a hand whenever I can. He shit-canned his handlebar partner, or was it the other way around? Had a brain tumor removed from his skull, started another product line, “Bad As Hell”, and was run off Ortega Highway by a drunk van driver recently.

I helped him repair his Road Glide that was stuck in a tree, until I couldn’t stand him in the shop. But I had to admit that it’s one hot looking Glide. So he rolled out of LA toward Vegas, after 14 surgeries and six months of rehab, loaded on whiskey and packing a bimbo. He didn’t make it. The rear wheel collapsed somewhere in the desert.

Note, the chrome god couldn’t detail the fuckin’ axle.

Chris repaired the bike again, and again I offered to feature it on Bikernet. We produced a tech on Bikernet, and made some production suggestions for his latest product, the ultimate fork leg cap. It’s in our tech area or on our 2003 King.

Where the hell is she pointing?

Let me step back to my Bimbo comment. I used that descriptive term because Chris’s choice of women are sorta insane maniacs with a taste for the equally dismembered men, Chris Hill. He met one girl, married her one-day and divorced her the next. They were hitched and unhitched a half dozen times in six months. She jogged daily around a golf course and collected used golf balls. Here condo was fulla them. Is that a clue?

When we discussed his feature I mistakenly mentioned the Girls of Bikernet. Chris was set into whiskey-fueled motion and look who he came up with. This must me the nastiest girl in Southern California. “I bought her a new outfit,” Chris said, “every time we went to the studio.” Studios are expensive. It generally takes one studio rental to cover a bike, but no. This shoot turned into a relationship, a party, and a summer long project. I received a report-call weekly about the next shoot, the last shoot, the new outfit, and the party afterwards. I started to hide the phone. “I call her Jizz or Jezebel,” Chris said slurring his words into the phone. “When are we going to drink Jack and eat burritos?”

”That’s Margaritas and burritos, goddamnit,” I said and hung up. So here you have it. One hot Road Glide, the Nastiest babe in Southern California, and a madman owner. If you see him at a show covered with leather and too much jewelry, back the-fuck-up, or he’ll pour you full of Jack, feed you Valiums and tell you stories of Bandit and his women. Don’t believe ‘im.

2000 PUSSGLIDE Specs

Owner: CHRIS CHROME HILL
City/State: HUNTINGTON BEACH CA.

Builder: CHRIS CHROME / BANDIT
City/state CHROME SERVICES.com
Fabrication: CHRIS CHROME / BANDIT
Manufacturing: CHRIS CHROME “BAD AS HELL LINE”
Welding: BANDIT
Machining: CHRIS CHROME

Engine TC88

Year: 2000
Make: H-D
Model: ROADGLIDE
Displacement: 1450cc
Builder or Rebuilder: PHILS SPEED SHOP
Cases: H-D
Case finish: WRINKLE FINISH
Barrels: STOCK
Bore: STOCK FOR NOW….
Pistons: STOCK THIS WEEK….
Barrel finish: WRINKLE FINISH
Lower end: H-D
Stroke: STOCK
Rods: H-D
Heads: H-D THIS WEEK…
Head finish: WRINKLE THIS TIME
Valves and springs: FACTORY JOB
Pushrods: UMMMMM
Cams: ANDREWS EV
Lifters: ANDREWS
Carburetion: FUEL INJECTION, BUT RATHER BE BLOWN?
Other: CORBIN SIDE COVERS, SEAT AND FRONT FENDER

Transmission

Year: 2000
Make: H-D, by Phil’s Speed Shop
Gear configuration: TOP SECRET
Final drive: YOU GOTtA BE KIDDING ME, READ ABOVE?
Primary: YUP WITH BAD AS HELL DERBY!
Clutch: BARNETT

The message here: Sell caps, get some leg…

Frame 2000 HD ROADGLIDE

Year: 2000
Make: H-D
Style or Model: AKA THE PUSSGLIDE!
Stretch: NOPE!
Rake: YUP
Modifications: CUT BACK PART OFF

Front End

Make: STOCK WITH CHROME SERVICES BLING BLING AND BAD AS HELL FORK CAP
Model: ROADGLIDE AKA ROADKING SETUP?
Year: THIS IS GETTING OLD?
Length: HUNG LIKE A HAMSTER!
Mods: EVERYWHERE!

Sheet metal

Tanks: Bandit and ROCK AND ROLL PAINT WORKS
Fenders: CORBIN
Panels: CORBIN
Oil tank: UMMMM?
Other: AGAIN MORE STUPID STUFF? LOOK AT THE BIKE. DOES IT LOOK LIKE YOURS. NO, EVERY DAMN PART WAS CHANGED!

Paint

Sheet metal: AGAIN, MORE B.S.
Molding: NAH
Base coat: YUP
Graphics: FLAMES WITH PINSTRIPE
Frame: POWDERCOATED BLACK WE RIDE THIS PUPPY!
Molding: AGAIN….
Graphics or art: FREEKIN OLD SCHOOL COOL FLAMES?
Special effects: OLD SCHOOL COOL
Pinstriping: YES GREEN!

Wheels REAR FATBOY!

Front FRONT LACED, CHROME SPOKES, RED POWDERCOAT RIMS
Make: H-D
Size: 140
Brake calipers: CHROME FACTORY
Brake rotor(s): DANIEL BOONE
Tire: AVON

Rear FATBOY 2000
Make: H-D
Size: 16-INCH
Brake calipers: FACTORY CHROME
Brake rotor: DANIEL BOONE
Pulley: FACTORY POWDER-COATED RED
Tire: Avon

Controls

Foot controls: FACTORY DECHROMED POWDER-COATED BLACK, CHROME BY CHROMESERVICES.COM
Finish: BLACK POWDER-COAT
Master cylinder: STOCK
Brake lines: STAINLESS BY CHRIS CHROME WRAPPED IN BLACK SHRINK WRAP TUBE.
Handlebar controls: YUP CHROME
Finish: SEE ABOVE
Clutch Cable: BARNETT
Brake Lines CHRIS CHROME MO JOBBIES
Shifting: MALTEESE FULL BOOT CONTROL BY CHRIS CHROME

There’s a set of the famous Hill Bars.

Electrical OMG INTERNAL WIRING BY CHRIS CHROME

Ignition: H-D
Ignition switch: H-D
Coils: H-D
Regulator: H-D
Charging: H-D 2ND ONE, FIRST DIED?
Wiring: CHRIS CHROME / H-D
Harness: CHRIS CHROME
Headlight: H-D HIGH INTENsITY BLUE HALOGON
Taillight: STOCK
Accessory lights: CHRIS, H-D
Electrical accessories: COMING SOON
Switches: FOR THE BITCHES
Battery: YUP, 2ND TIME AGAIN?

What's Left

TONS, LOOK AT ALL THE WEIRD STUFF, CARBON FIBER TAILIGHT HOLDER, CHOPPED WINDSCREEN, CHOPPERBAR INTERNAL WIRING, REMOVED BUMPER BARS, REMOVED LOWER FENDER LIGHT, FLIPED LAY DOWN LIC PLATE BELOW TAILIGHT, CUT OFF FACTORY LIC MOUNT DECHROMED MOUNTING STUFF.
Seat: CORBIN WITH Chris Chrome NAME IN IT!
Pipes: SAMSON FISHTAILS
Mufflers: SEE ABOVE
Exhaust finish: CUSTOM BLUE JOB
Gas caps: H-D
Handlebars: CHOPPERBAR BY HILL PRODUCTS
Grips: STOCK
Pegs: 9MM BY SICKSHOOTER.COM
Oil filter: YUP
Oil cooler: NOPE
Oil lines: YEA
Fuel filter: AS IF?
Fuel Lines: I BET SO…
Throttle: WFO (WIDE FUCKN OPEN)
Throttle cables: YES
Fasteners: SOCKET HEAD CAP SCREWS

Specialty items: BAD AS HELL FORK CAP!

Comments: RIDE LIKE YOU STOLE IT

Credits: THIS ONE’S A WELL HONERED THANK YOU TO MY BRO…..BANDIT-

WHISKeY GOD DAMN IT!

Don’t know if I can get away with this, or I should start packing again. Let’s go for it. There are a handful of wild men in this industry. I’m sure you’ve run across a couple I don’t even know about. I’m referring to Dr. Neon, Vinnie and Chris Hill. Most of us sorta head down another isle at the show when we stumble across these Walt Disney biker characters.

That's him. Stay away, if you know what's good for you.

Dr. Neon recently rolled into Wilmington looking for a building. He stepped out of the all-black Mercedes, wearing an all-black cloak, lookin’ like an evil tyrant about to take over Gotham City. He musta messed with the preacher’s daughter in North Carolina and was searching for new digs. Last weekend at the LA Calendar show someone displayed a military helicopter turned limo. It could only be a Vinnie creation. Then there’s the owner of this bike.

Chris Hill has been around this industry since straight spoke wheels were a craze that killed riders. That’s still a hot controversy. He designed the ugliest handlebars on the planet, the Hill Bar. They actually work like a dream on dressers. He’s a chrome broker and professes to chrome wood. “Fuck you Bandit,” Chris barked from across the studio. “I chrome anything, plastic, wood, you name it.” He’s the chrome broker to the gods with connections far and wide. He pours Jack Daniels over his cereal in the morning and eats a Valium salads for lunch. “No lettuce, please.”

Okay, so I’m a good hearted soul and give him a hand whenever I can. He shit-canned his handlebar partner, or was it the other way around? Had a brain tumor removed from his skull, started another product line, “Bad As Hell”, and was run off Ortega Highway by a drunk van driver recently.

I helped him repair his Road Glide that was stuck in a tree, until I couldn’t stand him in the shop. But I had to admit that it’s one hot looking Glide. So he rolled out of LA toward Vegas, after 14 surgeries and six months of rehab, loaded on whiskey and packing a bimbo. He didn’t make it. The rear wheel collapsed somewhere in the desert.

Note, the chrome god couldn’t detail the fuckin’ axle.

Chris repaired the bike again, and again I offered to feature it on Bikernet. We produced a tech on Bikernet, and made some production suggestions for his latest product, the ultimate fork leg cap. It’s in our tech area or on our 2003 King.

Where the hell is she pointing?

Let me step back to my Bimbo comment. I used that descriptive term because Chris’s choice of women are sorta insane maniacs with a taste for the equally dismembered men, Chris Hill. He met one girl, married her one-day and divorced her the next. They were hitched and unhitched a half dozen times in six months. She jogged daily around a golf course and collected used golf balls. Here condo was fulla them. Is that a clue?

When we discussed his feature I mistakenly mentioned the Girls of Bikernet. Chris was set into whiskey-fueled motion and look who he came up with. This must me the nastiest girl in Southern California. “I bought her a new outfit,” Chris said, “every time we went to the studio.” Studios are expensive. It generally takes one studio rental to cover a bike, but no. This shoot turned into a relationship, a party, and a summer long project. I received a report-call weekly about the next shoot, the last shoot, the new outfit, and the party afterwards. I started to hide the phone. “I call her Jizz or Jezebel,” Chris said slurring his words into the phone. “When are we going to drink Jack and eat burritos?”

”That’s Margaritas and burritos, goddamnit,” I said and hung up. So here you have it. One hot Road Glide, the Nastiest babe in Southern California, and a madman owner. If you see him at a show covered with leather and too much jewelry, back the-fuck-up, or he’ll pour you full of Jack, feed you Valiums and tell you stories of Bandit and his women. Don’t believe ‘im.

2000 PUSSGLIDE Specs

Owner: CHRIS CHROME HILL
City/State: HUNTINGTON BEACH CA.

Builder: CHRIS CHROME / BANDIT
City/state CHROME SERVICES.com
Fabrication: CHRIS CHROME / BANDIT
Manufacturing: CHRIS CHROME “BAD AS HELL LINE”
Welding: BANDIT
Machining: CHRIS CHROME

Engine TC88

Year: 2000
Make: H-D
Model: ROADGLIDE
Displacement: 1450cc
Builder or Rebuilder: PHILS SPEED SHOP
Cases: H-D
Case finish: WRINKLE FINISH
Barrels: STOCK
Bore: STOCK FOR NOW….
Pistons: STOCK THIS WEEK….
Barrel finish: WRINKLE FINISH
Lower end: H-D
Stroke: STOCK
Rods: H-D
Heads: H-D THIS WEEK…
Head finish: WRINKLE THIS TIME
Valves and springs: FACTORY JOB
Pushrods: UMMMMM
Cams: ANDREWS EV
Lifters: ANDREWS
Carburetion: FUEL INJECTION, BUT RATHER BE BLOWN?
Other: CORBIN SIDE COVERS, SEAT AND FRONT FENDER

Transmission

Year: 2000
Make: H-D, by Phil’s Speed Shop
Gear configuration: TOP SECRET
Final drive: YOU GOTtA BE KIDDING ME, READ ABOVE?
Primary: YUP WITH BAD AS HELL DERBY!
Clutch: BARNETT

The message here: Sell caps, get some leg…

Frame 2000 HD ROADGLIDE

Year: 2000
Make: H-D
Style or Model: AKA THE PUSSGLIDE!
Stretch: NOPE!
Rake: YUP
Modifications: CUT BACK PART OFF

Front End

Make: STOCK WITH CHROME SERVICES BLING BLING AND BAD AS HELL FORK CAP
Model: ROADGLIDE AKA ROADKING SETUP?
Year: THIS IS GETTING OLD?
Length: HUNG LIKE A HAMSTER!
Mods: EVERYWHERE!

Sheet metal

Tanks: Bandit and ROCK AND ROLL PAINT WORKS
Fenders: CORBIN
Panels: CORBIN
Oil tank: UMMMM?
Other: AGAIN MORE STUPID STUFF? LOOK AT THE BIKE. DOES IT LOOK LIKE YOURS. NO, EVERY DAMN PART WAS CHANGED!

Paint

Sheet metal: AGAIN, MORE B.S.
Molding: NAH
Base coat: YUP
Graphics: FLAMES WITH PINSTRIPE
Frame: POWDERCOATED BLACK WE RIDE THIS PUPPY!
Molding: AGAIN….
Graphics or art: FREEKIN OLD SCHOOL COOL FLAMES?
Special effects: OLD SCHOOL COOL
Pinstriping: YES GREEN!

Wheels REAR FATBOY!

Front FRONT LACED, CHROME SPOKES, RED POWDERCOAT RIMS
Make: H-D
Size: 140
Brake calipers: CHROME FACTORY
Brake rotor(s): DANIEL BOONE
Tire: AVON

Rear FATBOY 2000
Make: H-D
Size: 16-INCH
Brake calipers: FACTORY CHROME
Brake rotor: DANIEL BOONE
Pulley: FACTORY POWDER-COATED RED
Tire: Avon

Controls

Foot controls: FACTORY DECHROMED POWDER-COATED BLACK, CHROME BY CHROMESERVICES.COM
Finish: BLACK POWDER-COAT
Master cylinder: STOCK
Brake lines: STAINLESS BY CHRIS CHROME WRAPPED IN BLACK SHRINK WRAP TUBE.
Handlebar controls: YUP CHROME
Finish: SEE ABOVE
Clutch Cable: BARNETT
Brake Lines CHRIS CHROME MO JOBBIES
Shifting: MALTEESE FULL BOOT CONTROL BY CHRIS CHROME

There’s a set of the famous Hill Bars.

Electrical OMG INTERNAL WIRING BY CHRIS CHROME

Ignition: H-D
Ignition switch: H-D
Coils: H-D
Regulator: H-D
Charging: H-D 2ND ONE, FIRST DIED?
Wiring: CHRIS CHROME / H-D
Harness: CHRIS CHROME
Headlight: H-D HIGH INTENsITY BLUE HALOGON
Taillight: STOCK
Accessory lights: CHRIS, H-D
Electrical accessories: COMING SOON
Switches: FOR THE BITCHES
Battery: YUP, 2ND TIME AGAIN?

What's Left

TONS, LOOK AT ALL THE WEIRD STUFF, CARBON FIBER TAILIGHT HOLDER, CHOPPED WINDSCREEN, CHOPPERBAR INTERNAL WIRING, REMOVED BUMPER BARS, REMOVED LOWER FENDER LIGHT, FLIPED LAY DOWN LIC PLATE BELOW TAILIGHT, CUT OFF FACTORY LIC MOUNT DECHROMED MOUNTING STUFF.
Seat: CORBIN WITH Chris Chrome NAME IN IT!
Pipes: SAMSON FISHTAILS
Mufflers: SEE ABOVE
Exhaust finish: CUSTOM BLUE JOB
Gas caps: H-D
Handlebars: CHOPPERBAR BY HILL PRODUCTS
Grips: STOCK
Pegs: 9MM BY SICKSHOOTER.COM
Oil filter: YUP
Oil cooler: NOPE
Oil lines: YEA
Fuel filter: AS IF?
Fuel Lines: I BET SO…
Throttle: WFO (WIDE FUCKN OPEN)
Throttle cables: YES
Fasteners: SOCKET HEAD CAP SCREWS

Specialty items: BAD AS HELL FORK CAP!

Comments: RIDE LIKE YOU STOLE IT

Credits: THIS ONE’S A WELL HONERED THANK YOU TO MY BRO…..BANDIT-

WHISKeY GOD DAMN IT!

Gnarly is one word to describe the unique interpretation of the custom bike created by Master Builder Chica from his digs in Huntington Beach, CA. Many of his one-off components are fashioned not only from steel and billet but also brass which imparts an Old School patina to his CCC two-wheeled wonders. If you see something you like here (besides Livia from Sam Dixon.com), forget about getting one exactly like it (unless it happens to be for sale), because Chica has a policy never to duplicate, replicate or imitate. One-off is one-off.

If you’re new to Chica (aka Yasuyoshi Chikazawa) and his work, first off his point of origin is Kochi City, Japan where not too unexpectedly, he wrenched on his country’s homegrown Hondas, but his passion focused on All-American Harleys so he eventually went his own way and started a small shop catering to like-minded Milwaukee marvel fans. Gravitating toward the source of his favorite machines, he made his way to SoCal several years ago, taking his family to Diamond Bar where he found employment at a friend’s shop.

Always marching to a different drummer, Chica began exporting parts and bikes to Japan after meeting up with Don Millhouse who was already exporting aftermarket parts to Chica’s homeland. They merged forces and Chica Custom Cycles opened its doors in Huntington Beach. Chica’s twist on ‘60-‘70s bikes quickly attracted the attention of the bike mags, show judges and customers looking for a radical mix of the old and new. His eclectic myriad of handmade and off-the-rack parts harkens back to the bad- to-the-bone, no frills/all thrills of the early 1900s board track racers as well as the classic bobbers of 40 years ago.

Chica himself is partial to Knuckles, Pans and Shovels and of course rigids and springers, but his thinking is the opposite of rigid. Besides designing and building ground-up customs, he also offers frames, gas and oil tanks, fenders, springers and a clothing line as well as his cool brass parts. As the result of all his efforts and talent, Chica’s gained international attention and has appeared several times on TV including competing in the Biker Build-off programs.

For more information go to www.chicacustomcycles.com or visit the shop at 7522 Slater Ave. #126 in HB. Give them a call at 714-847-9889 to see if they’re home and not off doing their thing at bike events around the country. Tell ‘em Bikernet sent ya.

We’re not done yet. The lovely Livia is the original Girl of Bikernet. She came to Bikernet first and proposed the Girls of Bikernet scheme with her cousin and killer photographer Sam Dixon of SamDixon.com. Sam has a way with girls and hauls a pack of the hottest biker babes in the country from event to event on the eastern seaboard. He’s now launching his own magazine. Ya never know, Bikernet might be involved.. Watch for lots of Sam’s girls and world class customs to be featured here in the Girls of Bikernet.

Bikernet Chica Specs

Owner: Alan Burke
City/State: Orange, CA

Builder: Chica
City/state ( or company contact info): Huntington Beach, CA
Fabrication:Chica Custom Cycles
Manufacturing:Chica Custom Cycles
Welding:Chica Custom Cycles
Machining:Sertec

Engine

Year: 2005
Make: S & S
Model: Shovel
Displacement: 93 cu
Builder or Rebuilder: Rebuilder, Chica
Cases:S &S
Case finish:Polish
Barrels:S&S
Bore: 3 5/8-inch
Pistons: S&S
Barrel finish: Powder Coat
Lower end: S&S
Stroke: S&S
Rods: S&S
Heads: S&S
Head finish: Polish
Valves and springs: S&S
Pushrods: S&S
Cams: S&S
Lifters: S&S
Carburetion: S&S
Other: Air Cleaner By Chica

Transmission

Year: 2005
Make: Baker
Gear configuration: 6-speed; 4-in-6
Final drive: Chain
Primary: Primo
Clutch: Primo

Frame

Year: 2005
Make: Santee/ Chica Custom Cycles
Style or Model: Rigid
Stretch: 4 inches
Rake: 42 degrees
Modifications: Chica Custom Cycles

Front End

Make: Chica Custom Cycles
Model: Springer
Year: 2005
Length: 22-Over
Mods:Chica Custom Cycles

Sheet metal

Tanks: Chica Custom Cycles/ One off
Fenders: Chica 7.5″ Ribbed Fender
Panels: Chica Custom Cycles
Oil tank: Chica Custom Cycles
Other:

Paint

Sheet metal: Buck Wild Paint
Molding: Buck Wild Paint
Graphics: Bob Iverson
Frame: Powder Coat
Graphics or art: Bob Iverson
Pinstriping: Bob Iverson

Wheels

Front
Make: PM
Size: 21 x 2.15
Brake calipers: PM
Brake rotor(s): PM
Tire: Avon

Rear
Make: PM
Size: 18x 5.5
Brake calipers: PM
Brake rotor: PM
Pulley: PM
Tire: Avon

Controls PM

Foot controls: Chica Custom Cycles
Finish: Chrome/Brass
Master cylinder: CCI
Handlebar controls: Chica Custom Cycles
Finish: Chrome
Clutch Cable: Chica Custom Cycles
Brake Lines: Goodridge
Shifting:Chica Custom Cycles

ElectricalChica Custom Cycles

Ignition:Joe Hunt Magnato
Coils: Joe Hunt Magnato
Regulator:Spyke
Charging: Spyke
Wiring: Chica Custom Cycles
Harness: Chica Custom Cycles
Headlight: CCI
Taillight: CCI
Battery: Odyssey

What's Left

Seat: Hidecore Seat
Pipes: Chica Custom Cycles
Exhaust finish: Powder Coat
Handlebars: Chica Custom Cycles
Grips: Super 60's
Pegs: Chica Custom Cycles
Oil filter: C.C.C.
Oil lines:Copper
Fuel Lines:Rubber
Throttle: CCI
Throttle cables: Chica Custom Cycles
Fasteners:Hillco

Watch for this little redhead in the HardBikes booth for Sturgis 2006 and the Girls of Bikernet. Watch for her feature by Sam Dixon here in the Girls of Bikernet.