Life is nuts, or is it just me? Fortunately, we have motorcycles and women to chase. And this year became the year of the Evo, the FXR, and the mudflap girl. I’m scratching the back of my head and wondering how to kick off this build for 2011. There’s a lot on the plate this year and it’s a tad difficult to explain. First, I must fess up. I’m turning 63 this year and no more riding rigids to Sturgis, or even chasing young broads. Ah, but the adventure continues. It’s actually a blessing not to be hassled with women troubles. I’ll let my son, who just turned 37, deal with the addiction to soft curves. I’ll hide out and watch…

The solution for my missing long distance rider was an FXR, and I have one, the John Reed V-Bike that I took to Bonneville in 2006 and set a 141-mph record with a top speed over 150. Unfortunately, I have a hip problem and can’t ride mid-control bikes anymore. I even modified that puppy, but that didn’t do the trick. I love that bike. So, what the fuck was I going to do?

Okay, so I started to piece this bike together. We factory re-manufactured a ’98 Evo engine and JIMS rebuilt the transmission into a six-speed. I had a couple of Renegade Wheels and Progressive Suspension shocks. Then I had a conversation with Kenny Boyce, the man who designed the Pro-street FXR frame. He wasn’t happy with now-defunct Quantum. I also found out that some of these frames break in front of the seat area at the backbone. The project was moving forward with a Custom Chrome, super-wide, upside down front end, Aeromach risers, and we added super wide, Burly bar highbars.

I even had an aluminum mudflap girl oil tank I ordered from Nick at New York Choppers. The bike was leaning toward a pro street touring model with a set of Redneck Softail fiberglass saddlebags and a Klockwerks touring bike rear fender.

I was rolling when Kim Hottinger called and asked if I could haul my old ass out to the American Built/Spitfire manufacturing facility in Rancho Cucamonga, California. Paul Cavallo was the engineer/manufacturing guru behind Hellbound steel. As we watched the production chopper industry dry up, in the wake of a floundering economy, only the diehard survived, and I wanted to support anyone who understood the code of the west.

The brothers who love motorcycles, choppers, bobbers, and custom parts continued to jump up every morning and do what they adore, work on motorcycles. Some went from building hundreds of bikes every month to a handful, but they kept building. Paul downsized and kept rolling with his father at his side. When I saw what he was up to, I was inspired. He can build any frame, for any motorcycle configuration, so my mind went wild. We could build a Frisco’d and stretched, single-loop FXR, and I dragged an old Durfee girder out to his facility so Paul could see how the master built the originals. Imagine an FXR with a state-of-the-art girder.

Paul is a wild man when it comes to building and manufacturing anything. He re-engineered the girder and refined the looks, and added two shock mounts to incorporate a state-of-the-art front suspension. Over the next year, you’re going to witness Paul’s Spitfire abilities with features in several national magazines, and you’ll begin to see his products pop up in Custom Chrome catalogs.

The more we moved forward with this bike, the more inspired I became. This was a bike for me, maybe the bike for my old-guy riding future, now that my Road King was down the road. So I went to Paul with the deal of the century: build two of these frames and front ends. I spoke to Paul, then to my son.

There had to be a goal behind this effort. We would ride to Sturgis together. Shit started to happen fast and I ran into a TV producer who wanted to follow the build, and Leomark studios got involved.

 Next, I reached out to Chris Kallas and we started to work up a concept drawing. Here’s some of the e-mail that flew back and forth.

Here’s my initial description:

Frank’s bike: classic black mag wheels from Metalsport. Klock Werks rear dresser fender on Frank’s, might bob it. Both wheels will be mild width. Mudflap girl theme on my bike and Hardball tattoo on Frank’s. Paint reversed from Frank’s bike to mine. Forward controls on my ride, Frank’s will run mid controls. Rubber pegs, grips. dog bone-style tall rubber mount risers. Shotgun pipes. One Redneck bag on the left of Frank’s bike. We also talked about a small front fender.

–Bandit

Some questions?
Black and chrome or silver Evo engine?
Your wheels? Mag or spokes, what kind?
Style/brand of headlight, tail light?
The risers are the type with rubber mount at top?
Carb/aircleaner?
Shot gun pipes, staight, no mufflers?
Style of seat?
Your fender the same not bobbed?
Brakes? Dual or single up front? What brand of rotor/caliper?
If any of these things aren’t specific yet, they could be semi generic on art.

If you can send any photos or links to of fenders, wheels, bags, brakes or controls, it would be helpful.

As for paint, just a thought.

It looks good with lots of black or aluminum, and chrome.
It also looks good with your signature orange accents or striping. Since I’m not crazy for white frames, they could both have blue frames and just flop the two-tone paint on the tanks and fenders.

— CK

Here’s the basic FXR platform showing the frame modifications.
This is with a 3″ extended swing arm.
I need to go back and recheck some measurements but it will give you a
rough idea of the stretch up front.
Is this the type of exhaust setup you were thinking of?
When you said shotgun and 2-into-1, I wasn’t sure.
— Chris K.

I think we should go with this type of exhaust, if we plan to pack passengers. I’m going to ask Dar about that swingarm, but my tendency is to extend it about 1.5 inches, not 3. The stretch looks great. Let’s fuck with those fender rails, arch them, or make them disappear and bob the fender slightly. Plus I think we will need to lower the rear at least an inch, with shorter shocks.

–Bandit

Hey, here’s my first crack at putting it all together. Overall the stance looks good. Since it’s a rough draft without much decoration, I just threw a couple
of mud flap girls on it. I thought I’d try a traditional Sportster/FX headlight with it’s rubber- mounted bulb to stay with the theme of using rubber pegs, grips, and
rubber mounted-risers…. not to mention a rubber-mounted engine, plus I like them.

The frame tube behind the shocks creates a challenge for curved fender struts. I’ve included a couple of photos of some frames so you can check out that area, plus for general interest I tried mounting the tank higher (Frisco style) but thought this looked better.
You might use a semi-later model Sporty tank (when they first started making them larger but still had a carb).
I don’t know at what angle or how Spitfire plans to deal with the secondary neck brace under the tank, so just drew it how I thought it might go.

When you said a Fantasy in Iron tear drop air cleaner I took that to mean a plain Goodson (no rib), for engraving. (We now have a Roger Goldammer air cleaner for Frank’s bike)
Since you need to run a front fender, I made it small. I like when they show most of the top of the tire.

Questions:
Who’s handlebar and foot controls do you plan on using?
How about brake calipers?

–CK

Hey, Chris,

I feel like I want more attitude. How about the tank mounted in line with the bottom of the top bar and stretched a tad at the back to more of a point? Take out the stress bar and add a gusset there with a mudflap girl cut out.
Check the news. I ran a shot of the air cleaner, but you nailed it. Did you check out the heavy green flake and silver bike? I like that theme. My bike will have a plain engine. I thought that style worked well with the plain silver, driveline. And I liked the green springer to match the frame.

We don’t need to go with green. It could be almost anything and silver, then reversed for Franks, with a silver frame, and colored sheet metal.

–Bandit

If the Redneck bags wouldn’t fit, we looked at what Bob T. runs on his fantastic RT.

Part number for bags:
’87-90 FXRS conv bags
H-D 90702-89 left
90703-89

As you can see we are flying at this effort. Don’t miss the frame build in the next segment. As it turns out Frank and I will be running the same drivelines: JIMS six-speed transmissions and Harley-Davidson Evo engines.

Sources:

Okay, you have the story behind this build, and Chris Kallas is refining the concept drawing. My engine arrived from the factory, and Eric Bennett immediately noticed the return address, in Viola, Wisconsin.

As it turns out, the factory hired the S&S crew to assemble their Evo line of engines. What a natural. I liked that notion all the way around the block. First, it means more American hands in my new engine. Plus, what could be better than to have the best performance engine company on the planet working with the factory on the last and most refined V-twin configuration?

For this crew, and lots of riders all over the world, the FXR Evo is the best of the best. So, for Bikernet, this became the year of the FXR and the Evo engine. I asked the factory about their Evo engine program and received the following information.

A Modicum of Harley Engine History
The first 74 cubic-inch V-Twin engine on the JD and FD models was introduced in 1921 and the 45 cubic-inch side-valve V-twin engine (later to be known as the Flathead) on the D model debuted in 1929. The Flathead engine proved so reliable that variations of it were available on Harley-Davidson motorcycles as late as 1973 (servi-car trikes).

In 1936, Harley-Davidson introduced the EL model with an overhead valve, 61-cubic-inch engine. With increased horsepower and bold styling changes, the motorcycle earned the Knucklehead nickname, due to the shape of its rocker boxes.

New features were added to the 61 and 74 overhead valve engines in 1948, including aluminum heads and hydraulic valve lifters. New one-piece, chrome-plated rocker box covers shaped like cake pans earned this engine the nickname Panhead. The engine introduced on the Electra Glide models in 1966 to replace the Panhead became known as the Shovelhead, again due to the shape of its rocker covers.

Sources:

Bennett’s Performance

Branch O’Keefe

Editor's Note: You've seen the “American Iron” feature. Chris Maida, the editor, asked us to reshoot it, but we kept the original shots near the Wilmington, Califa, Port of Los Angeles rail road tracks. Just happened that a train rolled past in the middle of the shoot. Enjoy.–Bandit

I just did the Old School bit and rode this bike to Sturgis on our Bikernet.com 2005 run from the West Coast.

I cottoned to the pure machine marquee. I didn’t plan to paint it at all, unless absolutely necessary. I wanted to leave most components unblemished metals and incorporate as many iron types (for color) into the mix as possible. I wanted this mess to contain brass, copper, aluminum, steel, and stainless. Of course the steel corrosion dilemma dictated that we use some powder coating for a protective seal. The front end came in black to avoid chrome, so I supplemented the bike with a few additional black pieces, but the frame and some others were powdered to mimic a copper patina. Some aluminum parts were clear coated to prevent complete dulling and afford an acceptable pin striping surface. Some brushwork was applied.

It started with a Shovel engine that a brother gave me with a title. I loaned him a bike when he was down. Due to family illness he was forced to sell everything. There’s nothing better than an engine with a title. I took it from there and ordered a Paughco classic frame to fit me and handle like a midnight dream. Too many choppers today look good but don’t handle worth a damn. I wanted a bike to fit, handle well on freeways, yet be light in city traffic and parking lots. I spoke to Ron Paugh at Paughco and they built me a 4-inch up, 3-inch out, 35-degree raked rigid, wide enough to handle a 180 tire.

I don’t care for wide tire, fat-assed, beachball monsters. I decided to set my limit at 180 and run an O-ring chain for the traditional look. I stuck with a Paughco front end to top off the chassis. It’s one of their new tapered leg springers, 9-inches over with three degrees of rake in the trees. It worked out to be almost 5 inches of trail and handled as light as a dirt bike.

The engine had early stock heads, House of Horsepower cases and was a 105-inch stroker, too much for a rigid chassis. I wanted this bike to last, be a beater, but not be a dog. I contacted friends at S&S and they suggested 93 inches of street power for a balanced, reliable drive train. The stroke was reduced to 4.5 inch with 3 5/8 inch bore. The bike is fast but not a vibrating monster. I also spoke to Lee Chaffin at Mikuni and he suggested a 42mm, flat slide, Mikuni carb. “It will give you sharp throttle response,” he said. If I planned to run the Shovel on the salt flats he would have suggested a 45 mm venturi.

I have a couple of codes when it comes to building choppers. I like to keep them as simple as possible. On the other hand I like an oil cooler and filter to keep the drive train alive. I came across a system that bolted to the front motormount and doubled as a cooler while holding a spin-on filter (Rohm billet oil cooler mount). It was perfect. Other chopper codes include having enough taillight to prevent being run-over and enough gas to take you 100 miles before you hit reserve, or you’re looking for gas stations constantly. In this case I nearly broke the code a couple of times.

The Sportster gas tank originated on the verge of being beneath the acceptable fuel capacity, 1.75 gallons. It was an old Aluminum XR 750 race tank that we heavily modified. Get this: Some aluminum tanks are against the code, they’re too weak, notorious leakers. I broke the unwritten rule because it was a factory tank—cool right? Not so. “They broke during flat track races,” Berry Wardlaw, the Boss of Accurate Engineering, said at dinner in Deadwood, South Dakota, after I welded it twice on the way to Sturgis. “They ain’t worth the powder to blow ‘em to hell.”

I put more work into that tank than the Martin Brothers pour into a set of one-off artistic sheet metal. First I added additional rubber mounted bungs to the base of the tank for added support, since I didn’t on the last Sturgis rigid. It broke twice. Because the tank would reside on a severe angle we moved the petcock to the rear, also for more fuel capacity. We drilled the tunnel and welded in a plate to allow the entire center section to augment petrol storage. Then I installed a Crime Scene speedster cap for an old school hot rod appearance.

Kent from lucky Devil Metal Works in Houston supported the aluminum theme by hand fabricating an aluminum fender to match the tank, front and rear. We scrapped the front job.

Back to the code. Remember the taillights, so a semi will at least recognize that it’s a motorcycle under his rip-roaring wheels. This is a tough one for me. I like the minimalist approach, but endeavor for some level of survival. The crew at Eye Candy Custom Cycles (.com) developed this hot looking, side-mount ’59 Cadillac taillight. I thought it was the cat’s paw and that I could mount it to glow through to both sides. I installed it to the BDL inner primary, so close and tight to the frame that no one could see it. I broke the code.

I also grappled with some elements of the wiring, but it worked out fine—that’s another story. I’ve been tinkering with bikes for 30 years, yet learned a tremendous amount with this build.

The bike continued to roll together like a dream with the Kraft Tech oil bag, hard copper oil lines, the Lucky Devil sprung seat and 5-speed Rev Tech Transmission. The wheels were Custom Chrome aluminum rims, stainless spokes and chromed steel hubs. This was the first time I ever used Brembo brakes, no problem and I’ve worked with Joker Machine controls for the last five years.

Let’s focus on mistakes I made, so you won’t make them in the future. The hard lines were cool, but I could have installed rubber hose and been finished in a half hour. Plus, since the Kraft Tech, round oil bag, was rubber mounted and the hard lines solid, the street vibration fucked with them and they cracked. I needed vibration resistant furrels. Let’s stick with the oil bag. It’s cool, solid and bolted right up, but battery choice is critical. There was very little space between the battery terminals and the frame. Ultimately, a Bikernet babe was called to the front, to stitch a rubber protective cushion to prevent shorts. That’s too close for everyday comfort.

I broke in the bike using the Eddie Trotta formula for success, but missed one element, high-speed interstate travel. If I had put a few miles on the bike at 80 mph, which is against the break-in code, of 55 or less, I would have noticed the severe gearing. That’s where I went wrong. I started with a JIMS 6-speed and stock gearing. Then I discovered that the new Starter system from Compufire, that runs off the engine, wouldn’t be available for Sturgis, so I had to punt. I mounted the Dyna coils under the oil tank, which prevented a standard Compu-fire starter from being installed quick. A kicker was the answer. It fit with my hand made exhaust system using modified Samson mufflers, but I was forced to shift back to a Rev Tech 5-Speed transmission, because I needed the kicker. I should have considered a gear change at that point, but didn’t.

So what happened on the 1500-mile trek to the Badlands? The bike ran like a raped ape, strong and true. The handling was superb, everything remained in place except for the bullshit running lights I attempted to use for more visibility. They vibrated, spun, popped the bulbs and tore at the wires running through the fender rails. The ragged glitch in the road was the gearing. I ultimately replaced the running lights with these no-count reflectors and a H-D teardrop turnsignal under the right muffler.

The bike clocked 300 miles before I left town. Another 200 miles down the road toward Arizona, it had the mileage numbers to afford me enough break-in miles to drop the hammer and let her fly. At 90 mph I peeled past big rigs on Interstate10 heading out of the vast Los Angeles plague of concrete and stucco homes reaching dangerously close to the Arizona border. Crossing the state line, into the helmet-free state, I felt relieved to experience 100 degrees in the open desert flying toward Phoenix, another blight of concrete and southwestern architecture. I sensed the buzz in the frame and handlebar grips through Custom Cycle Engineering rubber mounted risers. The Shovel was over-revving and I needed that 6th gear release from extensive vibration, but I kept pushing for the love of speed, a light 520-pound, 93-inch chopper can deliver. She sliced the open road like a high-speed rotary knife through French bread.

I was beginning to buzz my feet off the Joker Machine pegs and adjusted them at the next stop. Rubber inserts on rigid pegs are mandatory, but I flaunted that rule with impunity. Just 60 miles out of Phoenix with the temps cresting 104 degrees and our group, of a half dozen, barreling along at over 90, the Sturgis Shovel quit, pure dead in the fast lane. I reached for the plug wires, then the ignition key that hovered less than a ½-inch from the whirling BDL belt drive. Better not go there, I thought as I signaled to lean right into the slow lane then onto the rough texture of the emergency lane where my baby came to a stop. That’s when I noticed the terrible, over-flowing gas leak at the back of the tank, all over the rear head.

As if the devil knew, one more mile and I would burst into flames in the middle of the searing desert. He flipped my ignition off. I never found an electrical problem or mechanical woe. She turned herself off because the vibration had taken its toll on the aluminum tank.

The next morning I was back on the road after Nick and Charlie at Custom Performance, (Turbo builders for Harleys, in Phoenix), had my tank rewelded and Nick recommended larger, softer rubber mounts. We were back on the road, where I took care of the beast for the rest of the run to Sturgis (kept my speed down), or until I could change the gearing. As it turned out, as I pulled into Deadwood, gas dripped onto that rear plug again. Bad news. There are codes and builders who know which ones can be broken—none. You can check the entire Sturgis Shovel Project build in our Bikernet Tech Department. The tank was repaired in Rapid City, but just two weeks ago I was forced to have it welded for the third time in Los Angeles. When will I learn?

Ride Forever,

–Bandit

Owner: K. Randall “Bandit” Ball
Home: Wilmington, California
Builder: Bikernet.com
Year/model: 1956 Sturgis Shovel
Time to Build: 9 months
Color: Shit brown

Engine/Transmission

Year/Model: 2005 S&S
Builder: Richard Kransler, Phil’s Speed Shop, and S&S
Displacement: 93 inches
Cases: House of Horsepower
Flywheels: S&S side-winder
Balancing: S&S, 1300 Bob weight
Connecting rods: S&S
Cylinders: S&S with longer skirts
Pistons: S&S forged, 8.2:1 compression
Heads: 1966 Shovelhead by Phil’s Speed
Cam: S&S
Valves: Black Diamond
Rockers: S&S rollers
Lifters: Custom Chrome
Pushrods: Custom Chrome

Carb: 42 mm Mikuni
Air Cleaner: Fantasy in Iron

Exhaust: Bandit and Samson
Ignition: Compu-fire, single fire
Charging: Compu-fire
Oil Pump: S&S

Transmission

Year/model: 2005 Rev Tech, 5-speed with kicker
Case: Rev Tech
Gears: Rev Tech
Clutch: BDL
Primary Drive: BDL open belt
Kick Starter: Rev Tech

Chassis

Frame: Paughco Chopper
Rake: 35 degrees
Stretch: 3-out, 4-up
Front Forks: Paughco tapered-leg springer
Swingarm: none
Rear shocks: nope

Front Wheel: 21-inch Custom Chrome
Rear Wheel: 18-inch Custom Chrome
Front Brake: Brembo Caliper and Springer Bracket
Rear Brake: Brembo Caliper and Softail Bracket
Front Tire: 21 Avon
Rear Tire: 18/180 Avon Venom
Rear Fender: Kent Weeks
Fender struts: Bandit

Headlight: Custom Chrome
Taillight: Eye Candy Custom Cycles
Fuel Tank: Aluminum 750 XR
Oil Tank: Kraft Tech
Handlebars: Custom Chrome narrowed
Risers: Custom Cycle Engineering dog bones
Seat: Lucky Devil Metal Works
License Bracket: Eye Candy Custom Cycles
Handlebar controls: Joker Machine
Foot Controls: Joker Machine

Not long ago an issue of American Rider was devoted to lowered models contrived for shorter more compact riders. It was natural to feature a custom devoted to the tight-is-right crowd. In a custom world gone nuts with bigger, stretched, wider, fatter and pumped up motorcycles it was a lengthy chore for Buzz Buzzelli to find a bike designed for a concise, agile enthusiast. But fortunately after long arduous months, digging through one sordid garage after another, he discovered the only majestic model of it’s kind on the planet, the Bikernet.com Amazing Shrunken FXR. It was right in our own back yard. All he had to do was call me.

The bike was built by K. Randall Ball, of Bikernet and a writer for American Rider (the entire series of build stories are archived in the Bikernet Tech Area). “I generally build a bike every year to ride to Sturgis,” Ball said,

I’m too tall at 6’5″.” Pissed at the nasty notion that he couldn’t fly along desert highways into the red rock of Wyoming to sweep his same-time-next-year girl into his arms, he moved to build a dinky custom.

The bike was built to enhance the Rev Tech, 88-inch V-twin drive train and become the anti-big-bike representative. “So many bikes are long and fat, we decided to haul ass in the other direction.” There’s nothing like a small, tight custom bike, like Chica or the Zero guys build in Japan.

“We wanted to go in all different directions,” Ball added, “small rear wheel, black and chrome engine, no stretch and no passenger carrying elements.”

The Kenny Boyce Pro Street frame was modified by Dr. John in Anaheim, California. “The neck was dropped and shoved back toward the engine almost six inches,” Ball said. “We cut two inches out of the Pro Street swingarm and shaved off and tapered the fender struts.

In the process several talented sources were utilized to create the design and components. “We relied on Cyril Huze for most of the sheet metal,” Ball added. The rear fender originated as a Fatboy front fender modified to ride the swingarm as a unified component with the ability to remove it for repairs. The Bikernet crew including Dr. Terry the mad grinder bitch roughed out fender rails, sliced the Cyril Huze tank, modified the seat pan and nearly destroyed the Huze front bender. “He ain’t no Jesse James,” Ball said.

“A Hamster came to our rescue,” Ball said. There’s a talented worldwide group of builders called the Hamsters and one owns a structural steel shed in Harbor City, California. James Famighetti, who works I-beam forms for buildings, with his Brother Larry is actually incredibly talented with sheet metal and fabrication projects since both brothers ride with the group. “James took every bastardized element we created including the tank, front fender, rear fender rails, oil tank and seat pan and hand-formed them into works of art,” said Ball.

Electronically the bike took on the simplest form with the assistance of Giggie from Compu-Fire. “We installed a Compu-Fire charging system, starting assemblage and single fire ignition combination. Then we mated all the electronics around the Custom Chrome top motormount. Giggie also used the Compu-Fire machine shop to fabricated the mid controls for an even more compact motorcycle. Recently Giggie took his talents to the Rivera R&D department.

The final details included LePera’s seat upholstery, Harold Ponteralli’s teardrop paint scheme, crazy John’s machine tooled CCI brake calipers, Performance machine wheels with a 90/90/18 in front and a 150/70/18 Avon in the rear.

When completed and Buster hauled ass down the street the bike was trimmed of all frame elements on the downtubes and along the bottom of the frame on the right side to reveal the entire Rev Tech drive line. On the left only a Custom Chrome chromed, welded-on kickstand interrupts the frame flow around the BDL belt primary drive system. The pipes were hand made in the Bikernet Headquarters and only sprayed with flat black heat paint. The Front end is 39 mm narrow glide enhanced with black powder-coating and Joker machine trees and controls.

“I remember the first exhaust system,” Ball said, “and the sparks flying around the shop. While I wrenched Nuttboy, who is a college professor, ground the welds. Complacent, I twisted bolts and worked on the bike as hours passed.”

Like some psychedelic fantasy the sparks mesmerized the doctor and the harsh Makita cut through the exhaust system until large gaping holes emerged.

“We tossed those pipes in the trash and started over,” Ball added. “Dr. Terry was banned from the grinder.”

Okay, a short rider stock to custom comparison is in order. The seat height is 23 inches compared to the Softail Deluxe at 24.5 inches, the Buell CG at 28.5 inches, Dyna Low Rider at 25.5 inches and the new 883L at 26 inches. Overall length even with 38 degrees in the neck was 86 inches compared to the Sportster’s 90.3 inches, Dyna at 94 inches, the Softail’s 94.7 and the Buell Lightning series kicked the FXR’s ass with 76.2 inches.

 

There you have it. The Amazing Shrunken FXR built for the trim and lean rider who wants class, tight ride. It’s for sale (310) 830-0630

 

Specifications

Owner: K. Randall Ball, Bikernet.com
Where: Wilmington, California

Builders: Owner, Dr. Ladd Terry
Year and Model: 2004 Amazing Shrunken FXR
Fabrication: Owner/James Famighetti
Chrome: Long Beach Plating, Long Beach, California
Paint: Harold Pontarelli, H-D Performance, Vacaville, California and
Henry Figueroa (frame), San Pedro, California
Powder coating: Custom Powder Coating, Dallas, Texas
Color: Black with emerald tear drops

 

Engine:

Year and model: 2003 Black and Chrome Rev Tech from Custom Chrome
Displacement: 88 cubic inches
Cases: Rev Tech
Flyweels: forged 4 1/4-inch stroke Rev Tech
Cylinders: Rev Tech
Pistons: forged 3 5/8-inch Rev Tech
Heads: Rev Tech
Cam: Andrews EV38
Valves: Nitrided stainless Rev Tech
Lifters: S&S solids kit
Oil Pump: Polished oil regulated Rev Tech
Heads: High flow Rev Tech
Carb: 45 mm Mikuni
Air Cleaner: Fantasy In Iron, Denver, Colorado
Exhaust: Hand made by Bandit
Ignition: Compu Fire single fire
Coils: Dual Dynas from Custom Chrome
Coil bracket: Custom Chrome with CCI ignition/starter switch
Transmission: 6-speed overdrive Rev Tech
Clutch: BDL
Primary Drive: BDL 3 inch belt
Final Drive: Custom Chrome belt
Rear Pulley: Custom Chrome Billet
Front Motormount: Billet by Paul Yaffee

 

Chassis:

Frame: Kenny Boyce Pro Street
Modifications: Neck cut and set back 4 inches
Rake: 38 degrees
Swingarm: Shortened 2 inches with CCI stainless axle plates
Front Forks: Joker Machine narrow glide
Risers: Custom Chrome
Rear Shocks: Short Progressive Suspension from CCI
Front Fender: Cyril Huze
Oil Tank: Cyril Huze
Gas tank: Cyril Huze modified by James Famaghetti
Rear Fender: Modified Fat Boy by Bandit
Hydraulic Lines: Good Ridge
Wheels: Performance Machine
Tires: front Avon 90/90/18, rear Avon 150/70/18
Brakes: Billet-6 piston from Custom Chrome engine turned by Crazy John
Brake rotors: H-D

 

Accessories:

Headlight: Custom Chrome
Taillight: Aeromach
Handlebars: Custom Chrome
Seat: Custom Le Pera
Speedo: None
Hand Controls: Joker Machine
Mirror: Aeromach
Foot controls: Handmade by Giggie at Compu-Fire
Pegs: Chrome Spur from Custom Chrome

 

 

Electrics:

Ignitions Switch: Bob McKay at CCI
Starter: Compu-Fire
Regulator: Compu-Fire
Alternator: Compu-Fire
Wiring: By Bandit

Every custom motorcycle build is an adventure. It takes me from one crazed time in my wild life to another. Fortunately, I'm not spilling my guts about another woman I lost during a knuckle-busting build. But this build did represent turning points. I'm about to step off into my 62nd year and sign up for Social Security. It also represented our stinky economy, and for the first time I pulled the plug on riding this bike to Sturgis.

Imagine for a second, the middle of July. Days were long and hot, and the Bikernet shop boiled with activity. The Sturgis deadline was fast approaching. I needed to plan stops, hotels, food funds and a place to stay in the Badlands. Then suddenly we were forced to shift gears. Actually, we took the planning process out of gear. One day, I scrambled for the finish line; the next I coasted. I couldn't find the stress switch for a week and relieve the pressure.

Most of my parts were baking in the Tony Pisano, Worco powder-coating ovens. It took me a week to realize the Sturgis Rally would survive without me, and I could relax. I was no longer under the gun to finish this build and risk my life riding an untested motorcycle halfway across the nation. Then it dawned on my feeble brain. I had a terrific opportunity to finish this bike and test it for a year before riding into the Mojave Desert and across several Indian reservations. Plus, I could kick back and enjoy the summer, pressure- free. I bought an ice-cold six-pack of Coronas, a couple of fresh limes and grabbed a sun tan. Not bad.

Tony is a pro powder-coater of the finest order and knows what it takes to tape off motor mounting plates and plug threaded holes. He saved long days under a grinding wheel. The powder work came out supreme. This year I tried something new. I powdered even the sheet metal, then asked a pro to paint panels on the tank and a flat black stripe down the Chica rear fender. He handled that aspect in a flash. Then I turned the job over to George the Wild Brush for the 5-Ball Racing logo on the tanks and pin-striping.

George drives around Los Angeles in an old Toyota truck with a camper shell, the home of paint headquarters. He folds down the tailgate, uncovers his vast, dripping assortment of paint and goes to work. He's old school to the bone. He pinstriped the giants' drag race funny cars in the '70s.

Here's where my fuck-ups began to surface. After the tanks were powder-coated, I decided to test them for leaks. I had planned to coat them with a sealer, and received Kreem tank sealer from Bikers Choice.

Here's the quandary: You can't seal tanks and then have them powder-coated. It might all go to hell in 400 degree ovens. So I held off. Then I decided to hit a local radiator shop for the test. We discovered one small leak where I welded in a rubber-mounting bung in the bottom. I ground it clear of paint and re-welded it. No problem. The painter touched it up for me. It was on the bottom of the tank and I was good to go. I thought.

Next blunder: Instead of pressure-testing my handmade exhaust system, I decided to try another sealant available from Kreem and Bikers Choice. It's blue madness and can only be used on new pipes. I followed the directions, but it's a messy operation, and of course, I attempted this process for the first time, after I painted the pipes. What did I learn from these hiccups? Test tanks and pipes before you coat them with anything, period.

The first item to be installed was the new Paughco narrow, taper-legged springer front end. It slid right into place. If only I had four arms when I'm working in the shop alone. The front end already had the 23-inch Black Bike Wheel installed with a special Avon Tyre. I just needed to grapple with the front end, fasteners, bearings and top crown. No problem. I also installed the GMA front brake bracket and spaced the front wheel for the 14th time. It's a tight fit, and I need something art deco to mount on the front of the bracket. GMA, now owned by BDL, only builds a springer front brake bracket for the right side. I was forced to flip this one over. I could have machined the leading lip off, but I decided it could be used for some unique reflector, or quirky hood ornament. We'll see.

When I disassembled the bike, I carefully collected all the parts on this table. I also zip-locked all my fasteners and wrote their job descriptions on the back of each card. That was seriously helpful during assembly. Next, I dropped the Crazy Horse 100-inch engine in the Paughco frame, with the JIM's transmission and the Baker kicker system installed. Since the chain ran against a portion of the frame, I ordered a ½-inch 24-tooth tranny sprocket from JIMS and installed it with this special JIMS nut, designed with a built-in locking device. Unfortunately, no matter what I did, the holes wouldn't line up, so I safety wired the nut to the sprocket to prevent it from backing out.

Then I faced one of the toughest assembly jobs, installing the Spyke alternator stator plug in the right engine case. It's easy and difficult at the same time. This time, I smeared the tunnel and the plug with Never Seize and tried to push the plug through the case tunnel. I also carefully backed out the set-screw and scraped any burrs of the case edges. That didn't help, but I ultimately wrestled it into place. I'm always careful of electrical connections, wiring, proper grounds, etc. Nothing leaves us alongside the road more often than electrical problems. So, I don't like pushing and prodding charging components.

Once the stator was in place, I used self-locking fasteners from Harley-Davidson to fasten it down. Spyke is careful to supply all the proper assembly instructions, but it's always tough with aftermarket engines. Because it was somewhat of a guessing game, I installed the Spyke rotor a couple of times to make sure all the clearances were proper. Then I could move onto driveline alignment and the installation of the BDL narrow enclosed belt drive system.

I've worked with BDL components for at least 15 years. They are solid as a rock. I used the inner primary to pull the engine and transmission into alignment. I left both major components loose in the frame until I pulled it up tight with the inner primary. Don't forget the John Reed Code. I use Never Seize on all bolts rolling into soft aluminum. John warned about damaging porous aluminum threads by running hardened steel against them over and over. Never Seize allows them to glide in and out of the cases without stress or abrasion.

With the driveline aligned, I tightened down the rear engine mounts and then checked the front ones for gaps. I shimmed the front motor mount perfectly, then tightened it down.

Next, I focused on the transmission. The Paughco mounting plate was tight and the JIMS trans case was fine in the rear, but slightly elevated in the front. I dug around until I found the correct shim washers and drove them under the trans and around the front tranny studs. It's key to go through these motions for proper alignment and to save problems with the belt. It's surprising how easy the BDL system slips together if the driveline is aligned.

I followed the BDL instructions and bolted the engine shaft insert to the pulley then drove in the alignment pins and tightened down the Allen fasteners. I pulled the pressure plate pins out of the clutch and removed the clutch plates. With the clutch hub and the engine pulley holding the belt, I carefully slipped them on simultaneously. I attached the left-handed clutch nut and tightened it with an impact gun. I did the same with the engine main shaft nut. I turned over the engine and checked belt alignment and pulley alignment. I spaced out the front pulley slightly with a shim and was good to go.

BDL TECHNICIAN NOTE:I received a call from BDL, “You fucked up, Bandit,” Dan said. He pointed out how I didn't mention using Loctite on the transmission mainshaft splines when I installed the clutch basket. “That's more important than many folks realize,” he said. Vibration from the spines can tear up the basket splines and ultimately the clutch plates.

I generally don't Loctite the mainshaft splines until the bike is tried and true, encase I need to remove the clutch. “Harbor Freight sells a cheap vintage steering wheel puller,” Dan said. “They work like a champ for pulling BDL clutches. If a hub is too tight a little heat does the trick, melts the Loctite.”

With the clutch back in place and all the elements tightened down I installed the Spyke starter and pinion shaft. Giggie, who just passed away the other day, told me years ago, how to check the spacing. To keep the starter strong and not fuck with the ring gear, the starter gear should rest about 0.150 back from the ring gear. Too close and it doesn't have the space to begin turning and jams against the ring gear. Too far receded and it won't make good solid teeth contact.

With the primary almost buttoned up, I moved to the LA Chop Rods new-fangled internal throttle installation. Internal throttles are cool but precarious. If a bike stumbles and falls over, the first damage is generally to the bars. It's easy to replace an external throttle or a grip. But what the hell. We're not building a bike to fall down.

About this time, the Sturgis event hit the summer calendar, and folks arrived from Australia for the ride. Doc from Heavy Duty Magazine, in Australia, picked up a Victory for the run. Nicole Brosing, an Australian tattoo artist, flew to the coast, rented the same Road King she rode last year, grabbed her girlfriend and split north to San Francisco then east to the Badlands.

I wrenched in the shop, drank Coronas, smiled and caught a sun tan. Gard Hollinger from LA Chop rods slapped extra engineering into his internal throttle system. His instructions were detailed, but I was still nervous as I attempted to determine the proper length. It's always a sharp notion to take the bike off the lift so the bars can rotate for testing the overall length. It's actually a breeze to install, although I honed out the bars slightly, for an easy slip. Gard devised the cable lock-down with a brass sleeve to prevent damage to the internal cable and afford a solid grip for the set screw. This throttle, with extra bearings, is smooth as silk.

Then I turned to the classic spark plug wires from Low Brow. This is a cool system and adds class to any ride. They come in a kit form with all the elements needed, except a roll of solder, flux, and a gun. It was a simple operation, but I actually mounted the coil a tad on the tight side to the underside of the tank. Fortunately it all fit. Make sure to slip the boots onto the wires before you solder the brass fittings into place. Lowbrow attaches the other ends before shipment.

I simply attached the spark plug wire to the spark plugs, ran the lines out of harm's way to the coil, added an inch for safety, cut the wires, trimmed them back for soldering, and crimped and soldered the fittings into place. Frank Kaisler told me to make sure to wipe all the flux off after soldering. So I did as Commander Kaisler instructed. He uses alcohol or solvent to clean the area, preventing future corrosion.

I took a day off to help Nyla's brother, Brad, build some diesel motor mounts for their 32-foot Cho Lee motor sailing vessel. They were smack in the middle of a complete restoration. It's a beautiful boat. I've sailed it to Catalina Island several times, when it belonged to an old friend of mine. Another deadline loomed. Less than a week away, the Easyriders Bike Show would rock the Broken Spoke Saloon in Sturgis. Bikernet sponsors the Panhead Class each year and I needed to create the trophy. Panhead Billy won the award. When I can reach him, we will feature his classic rat pan.

I shifted to the wiring. I used Phil's Speed Shop wiring system. It's designed for lots of custom applications and makes wiring a breeze. He includes instructions and a wiring diagram. The billet chromed box includes the ignition switch, the high-low beam switch, circuit breakers, starter relay, neutral light and starter button. I just ran the wires, used my Frank Kaisler soldering tool and ran the wires through the old H-D soaked canvas loom. I know that's not the correct term for it, but it's a close description.

I ran into one problem that held me up for weeks. I like the CrazyHorse bottle cap engines. They offer three ignition alternatives. First, the original Thunderheart unit, an adjustable timing Thunderheart, and finally a cone motor system. Unfortunately, they don't tell you enough about the stock system. I thought it was like a Compu-Fire system in the cone. It's a one piece unit. I reached out to other Crazy Horse engine builders who told me I needed a Thunderheart ignition module. So, I ordered the system from Thunderheart, but when it arrived it didn't jive with any wiring diagram I received from Thunderheart or Crazy Horse. It was a riot. Every time I received a wiring diagram or a box from Thunderheart, I thought I was good to go. Then some goddamn thing wouldn’t match, and everyone had split to the Badlands. I paced the garage waiting for answers.

The Thunderheart tech guru sobered up after a week in the Broken Spoke swimming pool, doing belly shots with the lovely waitresses. He dropped me a simple e-mail: “There's only three wires goddamnit, black for ground, red for ignition and green to the coil. Go for a ride.”

That solved that mysterious issue and I moved on. Three more puzzling obstacles surfaced. I cleaned the Paughco oil tank with solvent and small nuts and bolts. I counted the fasteners before I slipped them into the tank. It was sorta rusty, and I didn't want to roll without cleaning it. I poured a cup of oil in it and flushed it out. I hooked up the oil lines, and Crazy Horse sent me very specific instructions, but this will blow your mind. I couldn't figure out venting. I'll get back to that.

I hooked up my gas lines. I filled the tanks and one leaked. I threatened to fire myself on the spot and another challenge surfaced. The pinhole at the front of the tank, where I cut away a section to allow for fork stops, stuck out like a sore thumb. It was obvious, but we didn't spot it during testing. I called Jim Murillo, a professional painter and cried for assistance.

“Don't use Kreem, it peels,” he said. “Use Casewell two-part Phenol Lovolac System.”

I ordered some and their customer service was supreme for a small $36 order. Some companies get it, when it comes to taking care of customers. This is where tank seals become terrifying. I needed to kick my ass into the middle of tomorrow. Make sure your tanks are sealed before any finish is applied, including powder coating. I suppose I was over confident. What the hell.

The directions called for cleaning the tanks with lacquer thinner, nuts and bolts, sand, you name it. I tried the lacquer thinner and immediately fucked with George's pinstriping. I called him, panicked and drank whiskey heavily. Fortunately a Bikernet reader shipped me a fresh bottle of Bulliet Whiskey, and Dusty, one of the 5-Ball Racing Team Salt Flat members, hand-stripped several pounds of walnuts and shipped them out.

Incredible. I let the tank dry thoroughly, made up a small portion of the Casewell sealrant and poured it into the tank. I knew where the hole was, and fortunately it rested in an easy-to-reach corner. I tilted the tank in the sun and returned to the whiskey. George saved my ass once more.

With the tanks fixed and returned to the bike, all was well, and I put a key to the Phil's ignition switch for the first time. Here's another quirk. Crazy Horse doesn't tell you how to time your new 100-inch engine. It times itself. The bike didn't whine, growl, spit or cough. It fired immediately to life and purred. I checked the oil pressure, perfect. Then I unscrewed the cap off the oil bag to make sure the lubricant returned to the oil bag properly. Yep, it was returning, but the cap popped off into my hand. I wondered about venting. Everything was fine except for pressure in the oil bag.

Again, I started a research project. The Crazy Horse installation material didn't mention a crankcase vent and I searched the engine. There are two 3/8-inch spigots between the heads, as if for a cross-over oil line. As it turns out they are designed as vents. I found out from Dar at Brass Balls that they just run a line under their gas tanks. I pulled one end, no oil flow. It had to be the vent, so I improvised and used another old machinery oil fitting to hold a screen to prevent crap from strolling back into the precious engine.

That solved that issue. I was ready to rock, but my seat hadn't arrived from Duane Ballard. It was a wild old sprung BMW seat he scored. When it finally arrived, it didn't fit. It was too high and too far back. I was faced with another quandary. If I moved the bars, I could barely place my boots on the footboards. I scratched my beard, looked at the box of walnuts, and then it dawned on me. Glenn Priddle, a leather seat master, who studied under classic saddle makers, made me a seat a couple of years ago for the 10th Anniversary of Bikernet. It was a wide, classic solo seat. I dug it out, dusted it off and it fit like a glove, dropped the seat height 2 inches and move the seat position forward 3 inches. It actually fit the frame better than the old classic from Duane. I dodged another bullet.

Every year when I build a bike, my mantra includes a solid, tough, rideable, unique bike that will last. But each year the unique project throws a few curveballs. It's part of my Zen education. Life is not meant for perfection. We need challenges to test our endurance levels and help us through the tough spots, find answers or solutions and persevere. Often my predicaments are caused by a lack of experience. For instance, if I ever use a Crazy Horse engine again, I'll know all the quirks and set-up issues.

Now, let's see if I can ride it for any distance. I would love to ride it to the Badlands next year or to Arizona for our Too Broke for Sturgis Run.

We'll see what happens next, as I take her through the Eddie Trotta break-in routine. Eddie starts a bike for the first time, let's her run and checks her over. Then he takes it out for a one-block jaunt, and checks it over again. Then he ventures forth for one mile and returns for another inspection, then 5 miles, then 25, then 50 and she's ready for a cross-country blast. Hang on!