This year has been nuts. I don’t know what got into me. At the first of the year we set a code to cut down on events and projects and take it easy. Here’s the glitch. We thought, mistakenly, we’d just build a bike to ride to Sturgis then take it to Bonneville. That V-Bike, the first Sportbike Panhead turned into two bikes, then three with a V-rod from Phoenix.
The plan seemed simple enough in the beginning. I caught the glitch in my prognosis and fortunately ducked out on the V-rod. I was down to building two bikes by myself, riding to Sturgis, joining the Hamsters again and riding home. Then three weeks later we would ride to Bonneville and get our salt feet wet at the Bubs International Speed Trials. Hell, I thought this was a breeze, just hit the salt once a year.
I’m not complaining. It’s all fun. I looked forward to the 2000 mile Hamster ride into the Badlands. They know how to do it, and have a blast along the way. The Hamsters take a lot of yuppie heat, but a great number of the 270-strong, group of custom bike enthusiast, ride. They ride a lot. I’ve known the core of the group over 25 years. In most cases many of the members are apart of this industry. Okay, so with a week to go before riding out, my V-Bike Panhead engine hadn’t arrived and it looked like a no-show.
Berry Wardlaw of Accurate Engineering recently completed a Biker Build-off with a fellow Hamster, Kim Suter, of KC Creations and Gypsy. His order desk was piled too high. A brother Hamster was due to arrive in a day or two to straddle my King and head out. The King was ready, but what the hell was I going to ride. I could jump aboard the Shovelhead from last year, but the aluminum tank started leaking again. I have a 1948 Panhead with dual carbs… Sin Wu suggested I contact Harley and see if they would like a long distance article on a new 96-inch 2007 King with a six-speed.
Give her a couple of margaritas and she sprouts her finest thinking. I contacted H-D and within an hour arrangements were made to compare two Kings while blasting to the Sturgis and back. Dale Gorman arrived in LA from Cape Cod and threw his duffle bag in the Bikernet Barracks. So there you have it, two 230 pound, plus, men heading out of town on two Kings. One a bone stock 2007 King, sporting a radio with XM hook-up, windshield and hard bags.
My King is a blacked out 2003 classic, 100th anniversary, with soft leather bags, Screamin’ Eagle heads, Screamin’ Eagle mid-range cams, a Screamin’ Eagle air cleaner, an H-D tear-drop air cleaner cover, Screamin’ Eagle, two-into-one exhaust, H-D blacked mag wheels, a Street Stalker front fender, highbars, no windshield, and one more, non-Harley performance accessory, a Keith Terry closed-loop fuel injection tuner. It’s still a pure 88-incher.
We packed light, no tour-packs, just what we could squeeze in our bags and in one Bandit’s bedroll apiece. I planted mine on the glide front-end nacelle as a windbreak and strapped it to the 16-inch highbars. Dale attached his behind him on the seat with crossed bungies and we rolled into grizzly Los Angeles traffic.
It's been five years since I rode with the Hamsters to Sturgis. Seemed like a lifetime. Dale and I rode to Sturgis at least three times. I was looking forward to a comfortable, weeklong run with some old bros, partying all across the west. Dale and I would shift from King to King noting our impressions. Our first stretch was the Mad Escape from Los Angeles to the home of Daytec and Atlas frames in Hesperia, California, some 98 miles into the Devor pass leading most weekenders towards Vegas.
Dale rode the ’07 King first and noted the 80-90 mph chassis walk on the interstate. Rubber-mounted dresses seem to flex at speeds and it’s generally due to the lack of rake and the driveline movement, with the swingarm attached to the transmission between two rubber biscuits. There’s a solution, the True-Track system designed be Wil Phillips.
This system adds another Heim joint under the transmission preventing driveline side-to-side motion. It takes a measly 10 minutes to install, and adds 80 percent more confidence to the ride. I installed one on the ’03 a couple of months prior and it dialed handling completely.
Dale also commented on the gearing. “It was hard to know what gear I was in,” He said. “All the gears seemed taller and I didn’t hit sixth until I was rolling along at 90 mph, but it’s cool.”
The ’07 appeared to be the virtually the same as the ’03 from a structural standpoint. Except for the 96-inch mill and the 6-speed transmission, they were the same bikes. The all black ’03 rumbled up the highway feeling fine except for the Aeromach highway pegs I installed. They were too close to my foot controls and I caught my boots between them. I need to adjust those suckers.
Here’s my thing about Kings. I tried to ride a customized dresser a few years back. The bike was killer, but it was a dresser. I grew up on choppers. I couldn’t handle it, but I can a King. Let me try to explain. It’s like a ’36 coupe guy driving a bus. A King works, like a hot rod aficionado in the seat of a ’59 Cadillac. It’s still cool. You can still pack your shit, and rock n roll, especially with apes. I actually think the factory could take Kings a step further and offer apes, a slightly stretched frame for bigger guys and stretched tanks for lowered ’59 Impala class. Something like Lake pipes slipping through traffic or across the country in style.Shot of Kings
So Dale and I slipped through traffic splitting lanes into the desert under a partially cloudy sky. The radio with the XM Satellite connection was a rush and a safety factor. Since no matter where that bike was the reception was as clear as a bell, so Dale wasn’t forced to precariously tune channels and volume surrounded by thundering 18-wheelers.
For some reason I haven’t been able to pump 13 psi of pressure into my H-D air adjustable shock for a while and we threatened to fix it on the road. No chance. We started checking fuel consumption at every gas stop as another comparison. In Hesperia after a tour of the Daytec plant and dinner at Phil Day’s estate we gassed up. We covered 117 miles with 3.1 gallons for 38 mpg. I was expecting more. I checked the oil temp with my digital dipstick gauge and came up with 221 degrees, which is bitchin’ for my twin cam. They run hotter than Evos and it’s a good notion to run an oil cooler. I wanted to compare it with the ’07 but the dipstick wouldn’t fit into the 6-speed case. I’ll bet he was running 20 degrees hotter.
Daytec produces 7,200 frames a year, with 200 employees, in their 50,000 square foot facility on the edge of the Mojave Desert. As we drank whiskey in Green Valley Bar with Clyde Fessler, an ex H-D VP, we watched the weather report, pointing out the ensuing heat wave and warning to avoid heat stroke by curbing alcohol intake or coffee. We ordered another round, and coffee was our first morning beverage, then more whiskey.
Let’s ride. We jumped up in the morning, grabbed a pot of steaming coffee, plus breakfast and lined up for the “Wind ‘em up,” call. We rolled from Hesperia behind Phil Day the back way, 70 miles into Yucca Valley, where the notorious Bob T. lives with the Chop N Grind racing team, in a tin shed. They were the sister team to our 5-Ball Racing crew. Dale and I gassed up. The girls with the rest of the Hamsters demanded breakfast, so we peeled out toward the Joshua Tree National Park, to avoid those sand snortin’ bastards in the Chop N Grind team. We had covered a brief 70 miles and both the ’07 and the ’03 took exactly 1.6 gallons for 43.7 mpg. That’s more like it.
We slipped through the outlaw territory of Joshua National Forrest, past massive and smooth Skull Rock and Fried Liver Wash. It was my turn on the ’07 and that baby was a gearing delight. I found 5th gear to be perfect through the general desert curves, and 4th fit the bill through a more curvaceous mountain pass. I could buzz along until I hit 80 before I shifted into 4th and 90 mph before 5th. The new King ran smooth as glass.Shot of babe on keys
At General Payton’s Museum at the Chiraco Summit, Dale pulled my King keys out of his pocket. A super hot babe resides on one side of the key bound thermometer. The mercury ran damn close to 120 degree. I told the ex-arm wrestling champion, to keep his big fingers off the girl. We had another 70 miles before we could hit the helmet free Arizona state line.
In the grizzly town of Blythe on the Arizona border we accumulated 141 miles and our gas intake was virtually the same for 37.6 mpg. The 96-inch ’07 was running along at the same gas mileage as the slightly modified ’03. Generally stock bikes are tuned to the lean side, so it made sense that the bigger engine was pulling the same mileage. Rolling into Phoenix we experienced a mpg drop to 30, the lowest of the trip. We musta fucked up our calculations.
Dale and I started a maneuver to avoid the morning pack and the afternoon thunderstorms. We pulled out about an hour before the scheduled departure time. In Scottsdale, we partied at Myron Larrabee’s Billet Bar and I hooked up with my lovely Bonneville racer, Valerie Thompson, who ran 2nd in her class in the Destroyer drag racing class. The slight girl, sponsored by Monster Energy Drinks, would ride our 120-inch Panhead on the Salt, in another month, and set a world record. Hang on for that story. ( Bedroll shot on the front of the king)
The next morning we loaded up to cut a dusty trail to Payson in the Tonto Apache Indian Reservation. We sliced through our second day and this was the best ride yet, with mild smokin’ curves through picturesque hills, Joshua trees and Yuccas. I also noted a trend. We were both packin’ Bandit’s Bedrolls. Mine worked perfect as a wind brake and Dale’s gave him some back support. His was bungied just behind his lower back across the seat and mine we tie-wrapped to the bars with heavy reusable ties. They are tough, strong and durable. I found that I could snap them in place easily each morning and they never budged.
Sin Wu ran out to the Kings just before we left and handed each one of us a Helmet Hog. They easily slipped into our small bag pockets for use with packing Helmets through free states. They worked like double DD bras over beautiful boobs, holding them comfortable and secure. Kinda gets me going. If you want one, try Helmet-Hog.com.
From Payson we ran into rain heading to Holbrook. Out of 99 miles we thundered through 50 miles of rain. Another trend was emerging. Again we used the same amount of gas, 2.3 gallons for 100 miles for 43 mpg. That number was more in keeping with what I believed a big twin was capable of. I owned several old Shovelheads that did 48 mpg on a regular basis. These were much larger displacement bikes, but also more efficient.
We peeled along the 260 toward highway 377 onto Interstate 40, then through thunderstorms, lightening and blinding road construction into Gallop. It was a grizzly ride demanding all our attention to narrowing road conditions, gravel, beveled lanes, fluorescent cones and thundering 18-wheeler pounding us with spray. In a sense the danger heightens the excitement of the ride. We dug around town peering through wet glasses trying, in vein, to find the correct Best Western Motel. We found it and scrambled to the bar where I noted Dale’s impressions of the ’07 King. I also checked the oil temp gauge on the ’03, but condensation attacked the lens and for three days it was useless.
Just after we rolled onto interstate 40 we were able to open both bikes up and the ’03 reached over 117, but the ’07 couldn’t cross the 100-mile mark on the easy-to-read speedo. “You killed me in every gear,” Dale said after we performed a series or roll on tests in 4th, 5th, and 6th gear. Stock bikes are so restricted out of the box that the 96-incher couldn’t keep up with my slightly modified ’03 88-incher.
Dale enjoyed the mountain handling after he put 15 pounds air pressure in the rear shocks. “The tires are shaky and I could lock the front dual discs too easily on the wet pavement,” Dale explained. “These bikes are not designed for tall guys, although it handled well in the rain.” Over the last couple of years they have added 1-inch axles front and rear for more stability and a tougher front motor mount. Although I beat him in the roll-on test, it wouldn’t take much to wake up the thunder in that 96-inch engine. “Hey,” Dale added, “I hit 103 mph going down hill.”
As we bellied up to the bar my cell phone rattled across the hard surface. It was Mike Lichter asking me to write a brief description of Old School and New School for his Journey Museum display. I ordered my first Jack on the rocks, while Dale and I discussed the ride, the weather, the blinding semis and made notes for Mike’s article. Maybe some of you read my blither about Old School and New. It’s all a bullshit way to describe one style or another. We had fun with the article. I dictated it to the lovely Sin Wu back in California and she sent it to Mike via e-mail. When I ride I leave the Internet connections at home.
The next morning we headed straight into Albuquerque for 150-mile blast to beat the storms. We were determined to make Sante Fe before the thunderclouds bunched against the hills and poured on our parade. Again we left earlier than the pack. Chaz, a Hamster prospect pointed out that my rear turn-signal bar was coming loose and I crawled around under the ’03 King with a new fastener to reposition the bracket and tighten her down.
We took the straight shot, whereas Corporal Hamster scheduled trails meandering into beautiful, off-highway passes and valleys. We had no intention of trying to peer through soaked lenses at picturesque, pine-covered mountains, in a driving rainstorm. As we rambled toward Albuquerque I had various thoughts of past Hamster runs. I could imagine Arlen, who has ridden to Sturgis, 30 years in a row, Barry Cooney or some of the guys who rode out first on Shovelheads and stretched Sportsters, breaking down from town to town. It was a still blast, an adventure at every curve, in every town and running from every cop.
I thought about the times when we searched each town for a girl or a party. I thought about racing from town to town. I liked the reduced speed signs. I always sped up. Times have changed, or I have, as we peeled across New Mexico heading for Sante Fe.
We arrived in the early afternoon, way ahead of the pack, and fought mountains of traffic to our motel. We checked in and found a Sushi bar. By the time we finished a luscious lunch it was pouring and we darted across the crowded boulevard to the Harley shop. They knew customer service and offered to ship Dale’s bling for free, so he wasn’t forced to pack it on the King. I also noticed that Dale’s turn-signals quit, then his horn failed. We check fuses and discovered the culprit. Evidently turn-signals and the horn circuit shared the same fuse.
Everything in Sante Fe changed from the last time I roamed through the seemingly southwestern artsy haven ten years prior. It went from a small town to a bustling tourists Mecca surrounded by 4-lane boulevards, new buildings, upscale restaurants, shopping centers and slick motels. Everything was crowded, congested and plastic. It set me in a mood of deep thinking that carried over to our dinner conversation. We discussed the stages of life for men and how women torture us and we torture them, with little understanding in between. We pondered how families work, how they don’t and how there are no generalizations about anyone. We all struggle, learn, succeed, fail and survive, or not.
We decided a plethora of books exist for women but few for men, and we should write one. On our way to Sturgis we ran into two major industry marriages unglued, the Daytec family and the Bourgets. It disturbed my heart, because I’ve been through it many times and know the pain, the rush, the desire and passion that shifts gears through life and often takes whole families and businesses down the tubes. Watch out! I ordered another Jack on the Rocks and voted for legalized prostitution. I believe, in my slanted thinking, it would save families from breaking up over fresh sex, but what the hell do I know? I just don’t believe that tying anyone, men or women, down with rules and restrictions stops the libido from functioning as nature designed.
Like Sedona, Arizona, maybe there’s a collision of creative stars over Santa Fe. An emotional Bermuda triangle vortex hanging over the clear starlit skies of Sante Fe, snagged my tired senses, or maybe I was just horny.
After a day’s rest in Sante Fe, checkin’ the jewelry selection for the girls and working out for the first time in a week, we were up at the crack of dawn and motored out of town with full tanks of gas. As we rolled away from the lobby, we noticed the bearer of bad weather, Harlan, out front polishing his dresser. Either he drank a dose of over-confidence or he was nuts. According to Dawson the storm clouds were bunching up against the mountains already.
We rolled out of Sante Fe away from the interstate onto 285. Somehow when we drifted into Antonito, Colorado, where we jiggled our empty tanks, on fumes. We tested the maximum mileage capacity of the two Kings. We scraped through 182 miles before we were bone dry and shaking the tanks for enough drops to whisk us into any gas station. We both took 4.5 gallons for 40.4 mpg.
When we arrived in the mighty upscale ski haven, the weather cleared and we dried out at a terrific Barbecue Rib joint, south of our Hotel and just north of downtown. Dale and I stumbled into Arlen Ness several nights in a row and had dinner with the Chopper Doctor and a couple of his customers. Arlen has always been Mr. Mellow, but one of his buddies had a fascinating story. From a kid, Mike Avila raced speedboats and became a 7-time world champion water skier. Ten years ago he was in a terrible, high-speed skiing accident and was listed as DEA a couple of times. He didn’t give up, and although he’s still somewhat handicapped, he’s at the brink of another World Championship, as the boat driver and team leader. He rode with Arlen and the Hamsters to Sturgis this year and fell in love with the area. “He bought a condo in Spearfish,” Arlen said, “and he’ll ride every year.”
We wanted to hang out with the smiling New Zealand babe in the barbecue joint, but the next morning, headed the other direction down the 82 toward Glenwood springs on Interstate 70 that curves through the White River National Forest toward another skiing Mecca of Vail through Frisco, Colorado and dropped us into Denver. Again, we hit the road early and prayed for a highway that slithered around the city, onto the 25 north to Cheyenne.
Riding through Denver is much like LA, in its level of congestion. Interstate 70 is a fantastic roaming highway bordered by rivers, sharp mountain passes, and greenery. On an open day, you could fly through this pass, as if it was cut from the mountain just for choppers. Roaming down the Loveland pass at 11992 feet, we came face to face with the city of Denver, increased traffic, trucks and construction equipment. I remembered breaking a primary belt 10 years ago on that pass.
Suddenly the highway peppered us with gravel and dust as we looked for the bypass to avoid as much city congestion as possible, and we found it. Less than ten miles up the road we slipped onto 25 North and pulled off for Gas. Jeff Levy tagged along with us, on his bright orange ’04 Electra, in the morning, and we hooked up with a couple of other fast-riding Hamsters.
Highway 25 is another interesting ride. It’s the yellow brick road out of Denver, a vast expanse of golden fields, and nothing much else surrounds an almost straight asphalt ribbon leading us north, past one of the largest H-D dealers I’ve ever scene. H-D of Longmont or Loveland is across the freeway from a massive Budweiser plant in the middle of no-place. Like the 15 out of LA heading toward Vegas, the nature of suburban sprawl may gradually connect small bergs together until Denver reaches the Wyoming border, just like Los Angeles spreads toward Vegas daily. Denver was hot as hell as we sped toward Wyoming and Cheyenne. We figured 260 miles for the day. It actually trip- gauged at 298 miles. We started at 8:00 a.m. and rolled into dusty Cheyenne at 3:00 p.m.
It was Saturday morning as we were headed home (our Biker Home of Sturgis), along 25 north from the bottom of Wyoming to almost the top, virtually on one highway, 85 roaming into the Badlands. Ten miles out of Cheyenne we rolled off 25 onto two lanes of 85 and zagged north to Torrington for one quick left on 26 then a right back onto 85 where we remained true into Lusk, then New Castle, 4-Corners and Lead, passed the outskirts of Deadwood into Sturgis 16 miles away.
Most of the Hamsters, at that point leaned west toward Spearfish along the same 90 freeway. In Deadwood we gassed up on a back street and I was already shouting to brothers I knew, who rode past. We were almost home.
We snuck in the back part of town to avoid the traffic and found our Sturgis abode at 1147 4th street. We parked, but couldn’t get in. We locked up the two Kings, strolled into downtown and visited Arlin Fatland at Two Wheelers, then Pepper at the Sturgis Museum. The town was bustling and we were trying to call for lodging assistance to our Sucker Punch Sally and Saxon connection, Ken Conte. We reached him and discovered we were parked at the wrong location. Our home was a Day Care Center for kids a block up on the corner of Willard and 4th. Whatta trip, sand boxes, miniature furniture, dinky lockers and toys scattered around the yard. We were home.
It was damn good to kick back, have a beer and relax, we arrived—Sturgis 2006. I’m not going to blither through every move on the Streets of Sturgis. We always seemed to have a mission or a goal. Bikernet supplied the Girls of Bikernet to the Hardbike Booth on Lazelle. We had to check it out.
I would like to personally thank these two girls for entertaining on Lazelle, with the Hardbikes crew, for the entire week, solid. I wanted them to wear something that touted Bikernet, but where the hell would they put it?
We sponsored the Thunder Road location on the outside of town, and Sam Dixon and Livia took over our booth in the Thunderdome, so we investigated and I became a celebrity judge for the AMD Championship of Bike Building.
We wandered through Michael Lichter's Journey Museum display of bikes, checked-out my writings, words from other authors and his photography. We visited friends from far and wide, industry guys, builders, broads and whiskey drinking partners.
Since I sponsored Billy Lane’s Blood Sweat and Gears program and the Kids And Chrome charity banquet to support the Kids Rapid City Hospital and the Sturgis Motorcycle Museum we got up early to attend the builders breakfast at the Broken Spoke, then we snuck out the back door and headed for home. We had a Bonneville bike to build and hit the salt with.
Sturgis was cool, crowded, yet the official numbers indicated attendance dropped a severe 40 percent. Was it gas prices, Middle East war, economy? Everywhere we turned new facilities were being built for the future.
Jay Allen from the Broken Spoke plans a new camping facility and concert center. Samson Exhaust, Kenny Price, bought a massive lot in Spearfish, brothers are moving to the region to support the growth. Confidence is high that Sturgis will continue to grow and draw 400,000 plus numbers annually.
It’s a blast, from the girls, the bikes, the shows, the concerts, the food and bars. The entire chopper industry is there, as if the sign at the beginning of town said DisneyChopperWorld. If you want to see it, it’s there. Did I mention the Lemonade girls?
I have one major regret. I was inducted into the Sturgis Hall of Fame last year. This year I recommended John Reed, for an appointment into the Hall of Fame. He didn’t plan on attending the Black Hills Rally but I forced the issue, when the appointment was confirmed. He jumped on one of his wild motorcycles and rode to Sturgis in just over 24 hours. John’s an English madman who has designed new products for Custom Chrome for 25 years. I discussed the induction breakfast with Pepper and she told me the format was changed to speed up the process, and I didn’t need to attend.
I will always regret peeling for the border Tuesday morning, instead of staying for the Wednesday breakfast. My apologies, John.
Instead of blithering on about Sturgis, I’m going to run a couple of sidebars about the rally from other industry individuals. Below is Hardbikes, Bob Kay’s report and a report from S&S on their activities. Ah, but keep going, there’s always an adventure tagged onto any Black Hills Rally and this one will snap your head back, so keep reading.
Bob Kay on SturgisHardbikes Working Sturgis 2006
Back from Sturgis and I’m just now getting back hitting on both cylinders. I know what you’re thinking, Babes, Bikes and Booze, right? Well that has changed if you are working the Sturgis show and we were w-o-r-k-i-n-g it! I had a drink at the start and end of the show and worked the entire week straight through.
In order to be successful you have to work the crowd and make sure you have a reason for the crowd to stop in at your booth. We brought in the Girls of Bikernet. Bandit knows his ladies and the Girls of Bikernet were very frisky. You can see them doing their thing right here.
The Biker and Rat's Hole Show crew came by and asked us to enter a bike. We rode our fat-ass drag race-style 330 Pro Street Tattoo Bike. Our production bike was placed in the ultra-custom class. Now only radical bikes end up in this class and in Sturgis you see the best bikes from the most renowned builders. So it was a big honor to participate.
It was even a bigger honor to take the 2nd place trophy away from some big name customizers. You just don’t see production bikes performing in this class. It’s truly a reflection of our engineering, design and paint team to make this happen. It also shows what Hardbikes is able to produce. It’s our goal to deliver a custom bike at production prices and the marketplace is sitting up and applauding.
We had daily Girls of Bikernet/Hardbikes fashion shows, gave out water, free t-shirts and of course the Girls of Bikernet were on hand posing for free pictures.
A new design trend in the industry is a jewel-like vintage look. The winner of the AMD bike show was a combination of bobber and board track racer with each component part a work of art. The time and energy put into the components is really taking the design to the next level.
The 2006 edition of Sturgis seemed to be a little less well attended. Usually we see the rally building throughout the week. This year it hit the high level mark the first few days and by the last concert of the week everyone was gone.
What I came away with this year is that competition is up. And that means enthusiasts have more to choose from than ever before. At Hardbikes we are ready for the challenge. We offer what no one else can offer. An ability to custom fit a bike to your exact specifications and allow the owner to build their own custom motorcycle with custom parts just like you see on TV. The difference is, owners build it at the Hardbikes website instead of the OCC garage.
Hope you all had a good Sturgis. Keep the rubber side down!
-Bob Kay, Hardbikes
Eric Herrmann’s Sturgis Report
Hope to see you at Bonneville. Here’s some Sturgis info if you’d like. Dustin Herrmann (age 15) on his first trip to Sturgis with his father Eric Herrmann, took 2nd place in the amateur hill climb. Dustin’s 1st two attempts were on a muddy hill shortly after a rainstorm. With no extended swing arm, Dustin came within 9’ of the first place finish in his category.
With help from industry friends Metzler / Pirelli Tires and tools borrowed from Bikers Choice / Tucker-Rocky, Dustin’s wide-open throttle clearly made him the crowd favorite. With a second place trophy, the 6:00 news, and a place in the record books, Dustin is already planning for Sturgis 2007. Father Eric Herrmann also challenged the hill and was victorious only by not ending up in the hospital. And I taught him how to ride.
The Proud Parent.
–Eric Herrmann
www.EricHerrmannStudios.com
S&S Sturgis Report
Sturgis 2006 was a busy time for the S&S crew. After successful appearances in Daytona, Laughlin, Myrtle Beach, and Laconia, the World Builders Showcase once again wowed the huge crowds. The Big Twin West Show (December 1–3, 2006 in Las Vegas) will be the last chance to catch this prestigious showcase of international talent.
Other S&S supported events included The AMD Pro Show, featuring the most talented and innovative builders from around the globe and the Kids and Chrome Benefit for Children’s Care Hospital & School, which generated over $8,000 through the auction of an S&S donated SH93 engine.
“What is the best way to promote our product? It is by letting the customers experience it for themselves,” stated S&S president, Brett Smith. Given this directive, the crew put together S&S’ first demo ride program at Sturgis Dragway. Carefully screened customers were given the chance to ride a test bike equipped with an S&S T124 Hot Set Up Kit, 6 Speed All Helical Gear Transmission, S&S High Performance Clutch Assembly, and S&S Slip-On mufflers. “Judging by their ear to ear grins and colorful comments, I think that they were thoroughly impressed with the brute power and tractability of the 124,” said S&S Events Manager, James Simonelli.
S&S collaborated with Rick Luebeck, of Luebeck’s Customs, and introduced a custom 106” Victory® at Sturgis’ popular Broken Spoke Saloon. This bike featured the new S&S 106” Hot Set Up Kit®, available exclusively through Victory dealers. Justin Bramstedt, S&S Testing and Development Engineer, put the 110+ horsepower to work, smoking the tire to the delight of the cheering crowd. “Based on the crowd’s reaction and the number of people who hung around to check out this custom Victory up close and personal, this Hot Setup Kit will be a very popular product line for us and an exciting new option for Victory riders,” said S&S’ new Director of Sales and Marketing, Timm Fields.
For more information about S&S Cycle, visit
Are you ready for the wrap up? We blasted back into Southern California ready to work toward our first attempt to go fast on the Bonneville Salt Flats since 1990, and I was on the ER Streamliner team. We set the World Land Speed Record for Motorcycles, 321 mph.
The run home wasn’t without a Wyoming ticket for highbars, and meeting old Stage Coach Bob in a bar on the edge of Utah.
We rolled into LA and jumped off the freeway in Compton, Califa, a strange industrial ghetto next to downtown Los Angeles. At a stoplight a naked young black man stepped into the street wearing only tennis shoes and socks. He walked across the street as if he was walking from his home to the corner to buy a pack of gum. Dale looked at me as if he expected abhorrent behavior from LA, and he finally found it. He’s from Cape Cod, Mass, way back east.
We had less than ten miles to rumble through before our journey was over, but Nyla met us with her son who was anxious to ride the ’07 King. Kyle jumped aboard the King and sped off. We arrived home safely and unloaded, but Kyle didn’t show. He decided to show off the flashy King to his uncle in San Pedro.
On the way up a winding accent into a residential community a woman in a van slowed in front of Kyle and swung to the right as if to park. Then she abruptly turned left into Kyle’s path. He slammed into her front fender and flew over the hood onto the pavement. The King was severely damaged and Kyle met with his first case of road rash.
So ended Sturgis 2006. Helluva ride on two Kings, with a good brother and the Hamsters. Sturgis rocked and Bikernet was everywhere. Unfortunately the San Pedro PD found Kyle at fault. Michael Hupy is investigating the accident, and goddamnit, we’re going to appeal the ruling.
