While wandering around the Dublin mob choppers party back in march, we came across a pretty sharp chop parked out in front of the main building. While wandering around the Dublin Mob Choppers party back in March, we came across a pretty sharp chop parked out in front of the main building. The bike looked vaguely familiar, though we couldn't place where we'd seen it before. Upon going through photographs later on, Ernie recognized the lively looking bike as the Belfast Bombshell-a bike we happened to have on file. When room opened up for a feature, I jumped right on it and fended off the editorial assistant for writing duties (he's still recovering from his wounds).
The Dublin Mob boys hail from San Diego, California, and refer to themselves as working class heroes: The ordinary guys putting in their time without the shine and glamour that sometimes comes with the big names and bling bikes. They're interested in expression and improvement, and are never afraid to tear something apart and redo it if they think they can make it better. A lot of the Dublin Mob bikes (and four-wheeled vehicles) seem to follow this artistic mindset, which perhaps embodies the working class in its idealized form: doing the job and doing it well, often going above and beyond the call of duty, often for very little reward. "Most of our builds, chop or hot rod, have some kind of theme running through them," says Shannon McKnight, owner of DMC. "Just not in an annoying, overdone way." They are influenced by a stout Irish background, particularly great-grandfather McKnight, a smuggler in the 1800s.
Dublin Mob's attraction to history is matched by an interesting past of its own. Shannon started the shop when he was young so that "We could have a cool club that incorporated old cars, choppers, and the occasional pint." Their shop and the surrounding property is peppered with the aforementioned choppers and some pretty rad-looking vintage automobiles. "Our motto is 'it's a brotherhood,' so we basically look out for each other and have fun." This fun includes the shop's annual Paddy Ride, a definite group style that's been described as "the Elvis of chop shops with a bit o'grease and Irish thrown in," and a method of bike building that focuses on detail.
The Belfast Bombshell is "a tribute to the Auld Sod and the hard-working people it produced," says Shannon. "We're not a bolt-on shop." The Dublin Mob isn't big on flashy stick-on parts; one look at the Bombshell should be enough to confirm that. The bike sports a pretty spare frontend; what's necessary is there, and if you don't need it, you won't find it. The Bombshell, while striking in her simplicity, has something surprising along those lines to point out: a 12-gauge shotgun with double-barrel side by side action serves as the shifter. After cutting 2 1/2 feet off the barrel and trimming the stock down to a pistol grip, the gun would hardly be legal if it were newer, but as it's about a hundred years old and uses black powder, the shop's gotten away with it. "We saw it at a pawn shop and knew it had to be a shifter," Shannon said. "It went with the theme of the bike: No front brake, suicide shift, open primary, ape hangers-kinda like Belfast, Ireland-to hell and back."