"The road to Hell is paved with good intentions." This old adage could be true. I originally bought this '78 Shovelhead as a cheap bike on Craigslist that was pretty clean, well maintained, but kinda ugly to give a quick makeover to and sell to pay off bills-it's now on its fifth incarnation.
In recent years, people have been building sweet sleds out of swingarm cone Shovels which was the inspiration and worked well for the first three versions of this bike, not so well on the fourth. I had put a Pan/early Shovel swingarm on it, built a tall sissy bar with an early sporty fender mounted to both, and kept riding the crap out of it, but that was the beginning of the end. With few mounting points for the fender, the tall sissy bar, and possible worn-out swingarm bushings, the fender and sissy bar took turns cracking-repeatedly. It was a battle of wits that went on for a long time, but I finally was the one who cracked when I got a cheap rigid Panhead frame at the Long Beach swap meet that was junk in the front, but had a nice rear section. I had thought about hardtailing the bike a lot, but not with an aftermarket hardtail; I wanted it to look factory with the cast axle plates and the rigid rear tranny mount.
Having worked in fab shops for many years, but not at that time, and without a full setup in my garage, I went to my good friend Jimmy White's shop Circle City Hot Rods, and he let me work on a small table in the shop which is where I hardtailed the stock frame with the butchered Pan tail section which kept it all H-D and legal with the original VIN on the neck. Now I would put the bike back together the way it was, but with a hardtail and four solid mounting points for the fender!
The only problem was the bike didn't want to go back together like that-another week of nightly battles of wits ensued as we stared at each other in the garage waiting for the light to go on. I had a 19-inch wheel that was laced with stainless spoke and a star hub that I got at the swap meet for 20 bucks, and this is where things really began changing. To go with the skinny rear wheel I narrowed an early Sportster fender like the one I had on it before and then built one of my favorite parts on the bike-the taillight. I simply narrowed the stock taillight to match the fender, and it was like it belonged there, which I guess it did all along, but the two look great together and most would never guess. Chopper Dave cast me a new lens from the one I cut and glued. I prefer sheetmetal mods that look factory and not fabricated, which is why I narrowed a Sportster tank but did it so it used mounts like stock, and painstakingly put the bottom of it back together with the ribs and perimeter seam.
Much to my initial chagrin I built a shorter sissy bar because that's what the bike wanted now, but I wanted to do something different though not crazy, which is where the safety pin design came in. I remembered seeing an old chopper with one like it and figured it was perfect with the roundness of it, the taillight lens, and the soon-to-be exhaust cones.
The engine stayed the same, but with some polish to the appropriate parts. It just keeps running, so I don't mess with it. The cowpie trans had to go though, now that more of it would be seen. I had an old '65-up trans that a good friend and H-D guru Domenic Mingerelli taught me how to rebuild-teach a man to fish, yadda-yadda. Thanks Dom.
Being good friends and roommates with a painter pays off, and Harpoon lays down the metalflake like the mad Russian that he is, but I had something simple in mind-single stage Oakland Orange-ish with a single black pinstripe. This wound up being Omaha Orange, and it came out perfectly uncomplicated. All those nights in the garage staring at it, and I kept picturing a simple man's/Mann's bike, something that is so basic and proper that it could have been in a Dave Mann painting. So I also kept the early shaved Glide and went from 4- to 6-over tubes; it's a shame that rightly done, shaved, extended wide Glides don't get the respect they used to.
The bike was coming to a head just about time for the Grand National Roadster Show, so I thought why not enter it even though it's not a super-flashy show bike just so I could say I built something that was worthy and still a rider? Of course, it was a mad thrash at the end, and I wouldn't have made it if not for the help of my friends who stopped by to lend a hand, and none of this would have been possible without my righteous old lady Amy, who lent me the bread to buy this heap in the first place-it's all your fault!