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Wednesday, October 29, 2014
Monday, October 27, 2014
WreckLess's Annual Route 66 Ride
The WreckLess Chicago crew came through, all the way, on Sunday. They had over fifty bikes present for this rockin party on wheels. WreckLess Chicago calls themselves a social club not an M/C. These urban misfits just wanna ride, raise some hell and talk dirty to your mother while sippin on a whiskey cocktail she most likely bought them.
The club was founded right here in Chicago in 2012 at an alleged old school mob joint from back in the day called, Richard's Bar, it's near the corner of W Grand Ave and N Milwaukee. I'm not sure the club has a designated president however, if there were a leader of this crew it would probably be the tattoo sportin Joel Rabb whose chin looks like it was carved from the trunk of an oak tree and wit that's as sharp as a razor.
He respectfully addressed everyone during the riders meeting Sunday morning outside of the 24hr Hollywood Grill, engineering into the minds of all that were listening how we would control our position on the highways of Chicago like a brigade of troops heading out to battle.
The ride began after breakfast, kickstands were up at 10:30, fathers locked their daughters away a half hour early cause they heard we were coming. Too late of course, there will always be collateral damage when you're part of this club of bad boys. These boys are stewed, screwed and tattooed. Before they knew it we would be jumping on the expressway for just a short while till we joined Route 66 and swung into Wilmington, IL to fill up on that ethanol tainted fossil fuel and do a little shit talkin.
It wasn't too far down on 66 that our appetites got the best of us, we were so hungry we could've ate the ass end out of a dead rhino. We settled on Polk-A-Dots drive in of Braidwood, IL for burgers and fries instead. At this point I personally had a chance to talk with a couple of the members of the club. Timm Spinn , Evo, Mike and few more.
These cats as expected, are no nonsense, but proved to be the salt of the earth when my brother broke down earlier in the day and a couple of club members instantly stopped to help get him back on the road. No man left behind. Turns out it was a clogged up fuel line. Somehow a dirty condom made its way in the tank from a couple weekends ago. What the hell can ya do, we all make mistakes.
We pulled into Pontiac, IL late in the afternoon, this was our final destination. Parents covered there children's eyes as we pulled into town. The cops were out of sight, probably because they knew they were out numbered and out gunned. It seemed appropriate for some to investigate the Route 66 Association Hall of Fame & Museum. I however, was a heel and remembered that bottle of hooch that was safely placed into the saddle bag of Randy's murdered out Electra Glide.
A couple of parking lot cocktails later we were feeling right at home. Todd, Randy and I walked around the corner to find a score of the WreckLess boys in the nearest watering hole. Don't ask me the name, but this place was a cash only kinda joint. Best part is the ATM was busted. I kicked it a few times like it was the neighbors dog shittin on my lawn, but to no prevail. I had zero cash left after the previous rounds of beers and shots.
We said our goodbyes and all headed out on highway 55 back to the city where we belong. It was a nice ride to wrap up the year. Not to worry, this won't be the last this town sees of WreckLess
Chicago.
Friday, October 24, 2014
Plan For The Worst, Hope For The Best
However, this weekend there will be a poker run of sorts, put on by a local club. The ride will be starting early as shit (09:00) on the northwest side of town and heading down to Pontiac, IL via good ole Route 66. I like these group rides and being that it could be the last one for the year, (hope not) I wanna make it count.
The King of Hearts finally was completed this past June. Since it's completion I've had really only one break down. It was the first ride I took after the customary shake down run, then I felt it was ready for the highway. Nope, I must have forgotten to put lock tight on those damn generator bolts. Fucker just about fell off on HWY 94 heading up to Kenosha, Wisconsin. I looked down on the bike for a systems check as I was whippin past a semi truck and playing slalom with the suburban mini vans, and then I said. "That isn't suppose to be like that." The generator was bouncing around the saddle of the engine case like a kid in Toys R Us. I'm outta of the game and benched on the side of the road for the first time in a long time. After I'm done wiping my tears away, I finally get back on the road but this time in the bed of a pickup truck. I'm reflecting on this moment because if there's anything you can count on, it's when an event is coming up and you want to attend it, your scooter might take the opportunity to test your patience. We're not gonna let that happen.
The weather this weekend is suppose to be in the 60's and just beautiful out. So I have been going over the sled with a fine tooth comb, making sure shit doesn't rear it's ugly head. I began with adjusting the valves, fixed that annoying exhaust gasket leak, tranny oil change and lastly I replaced a smashed up floorboard from a fixed gear bike I had to smoke last weekend. She's good to go.
I will be posting some pics from this weekends run, so check back you exhaust suckin freaks.
Saturday, October 18, 2014
Mock Up on The "King of Hearts"
Oh yeah, this is the fun part, sweetheart. You've been mustering up that creative voodoo to get your lazy ass off that couch all week and finally the balls a rollin. You now have all or most of the parts you 've been saving up for two years and alas the time has come. But it's winter, and the garage is as cold as Michael Jackson's hands on a little boys back. Enough of the excuses, lets build this sucker!
If I've learned anything in the garage it's that #1 you gotta have tunes going at all times to keep the morale up and #2 you also gotta have beer or whiskey readily available to bribe people when you need an extra hand. It's the Chicago way pal.
I estimated if I could just get the wheels on it and make it a rolling chassis, I'd be inspired to keep going; and that's just what I did. The initial mock up actually went very smooth. I just wasn't quite sure about the height of the frontend. That being said, I took it back apart for the third time and cut 2.5 inches off the tubes before final assembly.
The tank is a Friscod Sporty and holds just under 3 gallons. The bars have 10 inches rise and were sourced from Union Speed and Style, however I had to cut a little meat off of em so we don't take anybody's side mirrors off by mistake. The grip area lost a couple of inches and so did the center of the bars. I think they came out pretty nice after nickeling. I bent up the rear fender bracket using an idea I watched Jesse James do years ago on Monster Garage. I took 3 feet of C channel and bolted a 5 pound Golds Gym weight to it followed by a little MAP gas. I bent four of them by hand till I found the right one you see in the final picture. Come to find out after all was said and done, "oh yeah, there's a pipe bender in the shed."
Please leave a comment below.
Chicago Hell Ride on Moonshine Baby and The Widow Maker
This was a cool picture my brother Toddsie Woddsie took after a long night of chasing hoochie at as many honky tonks as we could find to serve our relentless thirst for that charred barrel bourbon. I'd like to add that although it did improve my charm personally, we didn't quite have the magic we were hoping for that night, but we did have one hell of a time.
The day started out a little chilly. We took off riding with no real plan of where or what we were gonna do. We left my place in the South Loop, headin north up Michigan AVE. The sleds sounded mean; as we split lanes between the buildings you could hear the echo with every wrap of the throttle. Can't help but enjoy the look on the innocent bystanders faces as we ripped by.
We merged on to Lake Shore drive, and man these bikes are just loving that cooler air. Moon Shine's tuned up like Rick James in 1980 and the Widow Maker is running like a Jewish dreidel on grandma's kitchen floor. I give it a little more gas to get past the traffic till I'm out in front. Once I get there I really open her up, probably got her up to 100. At some point I inspired another driver to break a few traffic laws and drive at an excessive rate of speed as well. This guy comes flying by me on the off ramp, well over 80 mph, swerving into my lane nearly clips me by an inch or two.
At the bottom of the Belmont exit ramp, I pulled up next to his open window pretty pissed off of course. He thinks its funny, I didn't. Long story short, I blacked his eye for em. We left that scene for a better one and stopped into Wrigleyville. Now this isn't usually our spot, but whatever, we grabbed a burger and a cocktail. We hit up a couple more spots, stopping in Wicker Park/Bucktown area. Down on Milwaukee is a fun little tavern called The Pint. The owner Kevin asked if he could ride Moonshine, I said, "only if you do a burnout inside the bar with it." He agreed. I ride it inside and put it against the brick. With a little coaching, he's got that firestone smokin good. Just as soon as he started, he stops. I get on and really light that fucker up. The smoke got so thick I couldn't see two inches in front of my face. My lungs gasped for the last bit clean air left in the room. The tire had dug about and inch and half down in to the wood floor. We left our mark.
Outside looking in, the windows had dense white smoke packed from front to back, you couldn't see anything else. I said to Todd, " we better split, the cops are gonna be here," as smoke flows out of the entrance doorway. I later would find out that they had to close down for an hour to let the place air out.
After Wicker Park we hit every hard surface on the way down North Ave to my favorite scumbag watering hole, the Exit. The place is dark and dingy, just the way I like it. I'll be honest, not a place to bring mom but if you wanna be a freak and get completely wreckless its your spot. In the corner are a couple of partially stripped old bikes of the Japanese variety. The front bar made of diamond plate with lingerie hanging from the ceiling. The first color televisions ever made playing anything from Pulp Fiction to early 90's porn flicks with Johnny Cash making back round noise. There are four bars inside this fine establishment. I prefer the two downstairs bars although the upstairs is definitely something to see on Thursday nights.
We get the hell outta that shit hole and head down to yuppyville (Wrigleyville) to see what kind of trouble we might find. At that point our wits and reflexes are a little tired but still nothing's gonna break our spirits, we're rollin hard tonight. A couple of shots of Beam and a pack of cigarettes later and we're already feeling better. I see this cute little thing that looks like she's wearing a dress long enough to be a hand towel. I say to her as she's sitting down on a concrete stoop outside this pub, " listen my brother just took my last smoke would you bum me one?" It's her last one too she told me. Now I don't remember everything else that was said, however I was able to court her enough that she got on the back of the scooter in that little dress. Also I'm pretty sure all of Clark street saw her cookies till we arrived at the Full Shilling down the street. We did a couple shots and made out for a bit, then it was time for her to go back and join her friends that she had left behind outside the other place to come with me. Fast forward eight months that chick's my girlfriend. Funny how things can find you sometimes.
Todd and I hit LSD (lake Shore drive) back to the South Loop and swung by one more point of interest Reggies Music Joint on State st before we called it a night. That was a hell of a night. Plenty others like that but I can't seem to remember them right now. The whited out picture was actually taken inside The Pint at the time of the burnout. If you look closely you can make it out.
Please leave a comment below.
The day started out a little chilly. We took off riding with no real plan of where or what we were gonna do. We left my place in the South Loop, headin north up Michigan AVE. The sleds sounded mean; as we split lanes between the buildings you could hear the echo with every wrap of the throttle. Can't help but enjoy the look on the innocent bystanders faces as we ripped by.
We merged on to Lake Shore drive, and man these bikes are just loving that cooler air. Moon Shine's tuned up like Rick James in 1980 and the Widow Maker is running like a Jewish dreidel on grandma's kitchen floor. I give it a little more gas to get past the traffic till I'm out in front. Once I get there I really open her up, probably got her up to 100. At some point I inspired another driver to break a few traffic laws and drive at an excessive rate of speed as well. This guy comes flying by me on the off ramp, well over 80 mph, swerving into my lane nearly clips me by an inch or two.
At the bottom of the Belmont exit ramp, I pulled up next to his open window pretty pissed off of course. He thinks its funny, I didn't. Long story short, I blacked his eye for em. We left that scene for a better one and stopped into Wrigleyville. Now this isn't usually our spot, but whatever, we grabbed a burger and a cocktail. We hit up a couple more spots, stopping in Wicker Park/Bucktown area. Down on Milwaukee is a fun little tavern called The Pint. The owner Kevin asked if he could ride Moonshine, I said, "only if you do a burnout inside the bar with it." He agreed. I ride it inside and put it against the brick. With a little coaching, he's got that firestone smokin good. Just as soon as he started, he stops. I get on and really light that fucker up. The smoke got so thick I couldn't see two inches in front of my face. My lungs gasped for the last bit clean air left in the room. The tire had dug about and inch and half down in to the wood floor. We left our mark.
Outside looking in, the windows had dense white smoke packed from front to back, you couldn't see anything else. I said to Todd, " we better split, the cops are gonna be here," as smoke flows out of the entrance doorway. I later would find out that they had to close down for an hour to let the place air out.
After Wicker Park we hit every hard surface on the way down North Ave to my favorite scumbag watering hole, the Exit. The place is dark and dingy, just the way I like it. I'll be honest, not a place to bring mom but if you wanna be a freak and get completely wreckless its your spot. In the corner are a couple of partially stripped old bikes of the Japanese variety. The front bar made of diamond plate with lingerie hanging from the ceiling. The first color televisions ever made playing anything from Pulp Fiction to early 90's porn flicks with Johnny Cash making back round noise. There are four bars inside this fine establishment. I prefer the two downstairs bars although the upstairs is definitely something to see on Thursday nights.
We get the hell outta that shit hole and head down to yuppyville (Wrigleyville) to see what kind of trouble we might find. At that point our wits and reflexes are a little tired but still nothing's gonna break our spirits, we're rollin hard tonight. A couple of shots of Beam and a pack of cigarettes later and we're already feeling better. I see this cute little thing that looks like she's wearing a dress long enough to be a hand towel. I say to her as she's sitting down on a concrete stoop outside this pub, " listen my brother just took my last smoke would you bum me one?" It's her last one too she told me. Now I don't remember everything else that was said, however I was able to court her enough that she got on the back of the scooter in that little dress. Also I'm pretty sure all of Clark street saw her cookies till we arrived at the Full Shilling down the street. We did a couple shots and made out for a bit, then it was time for her to go back and join her friends that she had left behind outside the other place to come with me. Fast forward eight months that chick's my girlfriend. Funny how things can find you sometimes.
Todd and I hit LSD (lake Shore drive) back to the South Loop and swung by one more point of interest Reggies Music Joint on State st before we called it a night. That was a hell of a night. Plenty others like that but I can't seem to remember them right now. The whited out picture was actually taken inside The Pint at the time of the burnout. If you look closely you can make it out.
Please leave a comment below.
1977 Harley FX Frontend, Acme Trees and Spoolie Wheel
These 3 pictures show the frontend before the first assembly. I actually ended up taking the legs apart again before the final assembly and that was to get the lower sliders nickel plated and the legs cut down 2.5 inches. Putting them at 22.5 inches in length, stock is 23, for the Showa 35mm. I run Acme triple trees. I have gotten a lot of good feedback on these trees, people dig 'em on this setup. Back to the lowers, I turned them down on my buddies South Bend Lathe. I had to feather them in after with an air sander to make it look uniform across the tube. I polished them probably three or four times because the shop that plated them messed them up. I had to have them stripped then repolished, dipped and then color buffed when all was said and done. Final result was pretty good though. I sourced the wheel and tire combo from Bob's Cycle supply in Arizona.
1955 Straight Leg Frame?
I'm afraid this is not an orginal 55-57 straight leg frame. At a glance it did appear at the time of purchase to be orginal, however, once the frame was stripped of paint and bondo we found a hard tailed frame. I have learned that the back half is Knucklehead from the castings for the cross tube behind the seat post. I am not sure of the rest of it. I went over all the welds and although its not a perfect frame, it's all Harley. It's safe and it goes straight down the road, a rad little frame that was chopped back in the day.
Annual Cook Customs Burn Out
While I am not stepping away from documenting the build of the "King of Hearts," I wanna break it up and show a couple of sweet shots. Photos were on Labor Day weekend at the 2013 Cook Custom cook out. Joe Hart made a cameo in this picture, thanks to the Canadian Government dropping the Racketeering charges against Joe from an arrest dating back to early 2011. Photos were taken by Cormac Kehoe. Left to right. Myself, Joe Hart, Todd Hahn
Friday, October 17, 2014
1948 Panshovel 76 Top end
What you see before you is a HD titled numbers matching 1948 EL Panhead lower with a freshened up 76 shovel top. Proud to say I built this power plant myself. It features Truett & Osborne 74 inch torque monster wheels and H rods. Mostly OE Cam Chest gears and cages are also OE. Andrews J grind cam with solid lifters and chromoly rods. S&S oil pump.Jims pinion shaft. Generator is a 2 brush Cycle Electric and Mallory unilite distributor to bring it alive.
It also recieved a fresh bore and hone and new brass valve guide liners. Refaced the valves and checked springs for cam lift. Rebuilt the rocker boxes and installed a remanufactured 38mm Bendix with a fix main jet. James Gaskets, Colony scalloped pushrod covers and stainless lines from OLD STF. The fucker runs like a Honda.
Nobody Rides For Free
This whole bike began back in the summer of 2011. It sat in my garage for about 8 months in Las Vegas. After that I trailered it back to Illinois. where it sat in a friend's shed for another 6 months. Then I brought it to my little brother's place in Milwaukee where it sat for another 4 months. Now we're going to Tarantino it and tell you how I acquired the bike.
My Girlfriend at the time was looking for a sporty for herself. While searching for her own bike, she found a post for a 47 harley on craigslist for $2400. She's like, "look babe! isn't that a knucklehead?" She loaned me the green from her sporty fund towards the purchase of the 47 Harley you see before you. Too bad homeboy was dyslexic and about as sharp as a sack of wet mice.
I showed up hoping to find a basketcase Knuckle for cheap. My belief is over the last couple years, shits become even harder to come by unless you have the cheddar. Anyway, my guy had a combo frame and the engine had 49 numbers in it. Granted, at a glance, both looked passable but were bogus. This engine was a cone shovelhead with a cut frame and no title.
I was like forget it and I got him to take $1500. We do the bill of sale, I asked him for an ID. This sorry bastard is fresh out. He said "No ID sorry. Here is my release form from the D.O.C." I thought, You've gotta be kidding me. Against my better judgment, which this isn't my first offense, I bought it. My thought was, if anything, I could sell the parts or use em.
At the very least, the ride home was interesting. Down Boulder HWY I went into Las Vegas/Henderson area. No Breaks, a foot clutch and loose ape hangers. I thought, fuck it we'll make it and we did. The following pictures will show you after I got the bike home and the aftermath. I call it the "King of Hearts."
Sportster Style Tank By Jesse James Part 1
Cam Chest Assembly on a 1949 Harley Davidson Panhead
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