With the Virgin Mary toting a pair of machine pistols on the tank and the bike's contro-versial name boldly scrawled on the primary belt, it should be obvious that the boys at Seattle's Lucky's Choppers have a bit of an anti-social attitude. Or so you'd think. These Lucky guys seem to have a split personality.
A large neon sign stating "F*** the Factory" graces both Lucky's showroom and the homepage of www.luckyschoppers.com, but you wouldn't know it from the components the guys at Lucky's select-or their creations. A mostly stock 95-inch-kitted Twin Cam powers "Religion." Stating that the Factory's late-model engine is one of their favorites, AJ built this power unit from mostly H-D components, with S&S; cases to fit in a traditional rigid frame, along with an S&S; Super G for more go-power.
Other household name brands on the bike include a Denver's 8-inch-over Springer; Headwinds billet headlight; and Performance Machine wheels, hand controls, and hydraulic clutch. When asked about this, AJ responds that Lucky's likes to use parts that have been proven to stand the test of time, as his bikes are (and we know everybody says this) made to be ridden. And with Seattle's hilly topography, that means something more than someplace like, say, Daytona.
Parts on "Religion" not sourced from prime suppliers were fabricated in-house at Lucky's. Talented fabricator Matt Adams not only built the frame, sheetmetal, and fuel and oil tanks, but also stitched up the seat in what's threatening to become a full-time occupation for him. Matt also added a number of subtle touches in welded bar stock, including the steering stops, rear footpeg mounts (and pegs), and Lucky's own dagger-like forward controls, which are deviously simple, yet as beautiful as anything out there. Melding wire mesh with bar and hollow tubing, Matt produced the motor mount (which conceals the plug wires), as well as the matching air intake cover on the right side. The two-sided pipes, covered with a heat-resistant coating and wrapped in heat tape, were also welded up in the shop.
On the other side of the coin is the art-house level of commitment to the chopper's anti-social theme. Georgetown, the small Seattle-area town where Lucky's is based, is an old warehouse area known for its disreputable characters, but now it has morphed into an area with specialty gearhead shops, bars, and artist lofts, the perfect place for a little subversive chopperism. The art itself was inspired by an artist named Spanky but was executed by painter Tim Conder. Pictures don't do justice to the way he laid down the Holy Virgin with multiple layers of more and less sparkly white glitter, surrounded her with a bandolier of rifle bullets, and left spent bullet casings bouncing all over the sheetmetal of the bike. The Candy Red metalflake is beefy as hell and laid on super-thick, with silver flames of hell streaking down the sides of the curvaceous tank. Matt Adams' seat continues the theme with its biblical paraphrase, "Eye for an Eye"-and there's the belt mural itself.
Religion Is War. This anti-theist thought manages to alienate about 80 percent of the world's population. You can't get much more anti-social than that. That said, though it's not a particularly original thought, AJ likes to point out that it's only become more true in the year since he built the bike. This iconic statement, designed to offend and make a truly personal machine, was meant to be ridden by none other than AJ himself...after all, who else would want it? But since the photos were shot, a customer fell in love with the machine, and it's now in the hands of a lucky Seattle-ite who's probably pissing off his neighbors with the bike right now.