With a little hard work and a lot of buying and returning parts, I got a roller together. It didn't actually roll, though, because the front hub on the leftover-from-the-last-resurrection-of-Indian wheels I bought didn't fit too snugly on that wide glide axle. About this time, it came to my attention that my Uncle Dave from Akron was living in Los Angeles and owned a machine shop. "No Problem. Come on over," he said when I phoned him with my dilemma. When I got to LA my uncle helped me cut a custom chromoly axle to fit up my front wheel. He didn't just make an axle for me, but he showed me how to make one on his lathe. He gave me a crash course on lathe safety ("Don't get your arm stuck in there."), and gave me complete access to his arsenal of odd machines and tools. I quickly realized that everything I needed to make my bike a reality was within those four walls of his shop. Little did he know I would end up moving all my shit into his shop, and basically living there rent-free when I wasn't working in Vegas.
So I started making all sorts of stupid handmade parts. A popular trend at the time was to bolt unnecessary garbage all over your bike. All sorts of dumb ideas made their way on to my bike. I mean, Christ's sake, I had two oil tanks (one on the handlebars). I began thinking of how cool it would be to bask in the admiration of complete strangers when they see all the clever parts on my finished bike as I park it out front of the local Starbucks.
But when it came time to finally start the bike, I soon realized all the clever bits and pieces weren't going to get me on the road. The multiple oil tanks spewed hot frothy oil out the vents within a few minutes of riding. The Sprotor brake bolts backed out after every ride threatening to snap the caliper off. The four-speed kick-only trans behind the 11:1 compression motor insured that I was drenched in sweat every time I rode. And, when it was running, the super short open pipes completely destroyed the motor's torque curve.
Eventually, I took some time to re-evaluate the bike. I realized that 'normal' parts used on everyday bikes weren't to be scorned for their pedestrian status. There's a reason factories put baffles in exhaust pipes, and there's a reason electric starters come standard on modern big-inch production bikes. Screw those components deemed 'cool' by all those Internet Jockeys. I wanted to ride my bike, not worry about what others thought. So I slapped a five-speed trans, horseshoe oiltank, some exhaust baffles, and one of Fabricator Kevin's dual Tokico caliper brake kits on my bike, adjusted the carb, and rode.
I learned so much in that period. So much pointless shit I built taught me the true value of time-tested designs. Most importantly, my Uncle Dave gave me the basic knowledge and tools to build almost anything, and didn't even get pissed when I broke things. I really could never thank him enough for what he has given to me.