The Harley-Davidson Sportster comes in many forms and this one when it appeared at The Gas Box was a rusty pile of shit. The history of the XL pretty much goes like this; it was once a bike that beat the British and Japanese imports of the late '50s and '60s. It was later deemed feminine or beginner by Big Twin owners. It has since taken on a highly sought-after place in the world of custom fabrication. After all, what other bike can be readily found at a good price with tons of parts available?

The centerpiece of any custom bike can vary from a headlight, paintjob, or piece of bodywork. For Warren Heir Jr., from Jr.'s Cycle Products, his 1951 Panhead's gas tank served as the kick-off for his inspiration. Warren explains how the tank on his Panhead came about, "It's easy to build a bike and make it look nice with new chrome and paint. It is real difficult to make a bike look like it has been sitting for years in a certain configuration. I had wanted to build a bike just around that tank and the old original lacquer paint on it. Dammit I love that tank."

As one of the original reality shows that revolve around the pawn industry, you'd be hard pressed to find anyone who hasn't seen at least one episode of the wildly popular Pawn Stars staring owner Rick Harrison. Turns out that Rick is not only a master negotiator, but also an avid rider and bike collector.

I have been fortunate enough to build multiple motorcycles over the years and show them at, what I believe to be, some of the coolest shows in the world. I have also been blessed to ride my creations on trips with friends and form memories I will never forget. I've watched the imposters that were sucking the motorcycle industry start to leave because there was no more to take, and I've watched what I believe to be the true motorcycle enthusiast stay and harness the spirit of what this shit is really all about; building your own motorcycle, riding it, breaking it, and fixing it. There are no problems on the road due to the fact that all my breakdowns (on the bike and in my mind) are my best stories told. Also, anybody that knows me knows full well that I'll never sacrifice a good story for the truth.

When it comes to building a bike that is coined traditional, there seems to be a long list of "dos" and "do nots" that go with that term. Stray outside the accepted norm and you might be scolded for not following protocol. In person, T-Bone from Noise Cycles is a man of few words, instead opting to show you what he thinks before telling you. "As much as I don't like talking to people, I love to listen to people talking about my bike. I feed off that. It makes me feel like I do something different. I like people doing a double take. That's the way I try to build a bike. I don't want to talk about it, but I like to hear about it. That handbook drives me nuts and it's out there and I don't want any part of it."

The Frost Lord formed in my head several years ago after picking up the 1946 Knucklehead motor back home in Montana. It sat again in my shop for years, then after a conversation with Mitch Cotie about the awesome artwork that was to become the Frost Lord, the pieces started to come together.

In the October 1975 issue Tom Barcelona from Houston sent in a full feature on his bike that was shot by Miles King. The bike was built by Freeway Customs and is one great example of an early metric chopper. Also included in the photos was a foxy young model by the way of Cathy Barcelona, or as Tom called her, his "O' Lady."

It was a Sunday in January of 2010 that my friend Danny told me about this Panhead that he knew about that was sitting in a guy’s garage a few towns over from where I live. He got me pretty stoked on this thing and just recently reminded me of how I called him about four times that week making sure that we could go check it out the following Sunday worried that someone else was going to go scoop this thing up. I didn’t really have the cash to make a move on it, so I did what any responsible person would do when encountered with a situation like I was in: I borrowed money from my brother Zach. The following Sunday came and I went to meet the previous owner of my Panhead with a pocket full of cash. A deal was struck and I was happy as could be. I got it running that summer the way that it was, similar to this style, but with true patina. That first winter I couldn’t keep my hands off of it and tore it down for some 88-inch S&S stroker treatment and a quick black paintjob. My goal was to build something quick that had the ability to run with new bikes. After riding it that summer, I still yearned to have it finished to the quality it is today, which brought a lot of work for the winter of 2011. It was then that it was torn down to the frame and many restless nights of work and beer drinking were to ensue.

I ended up with this bike after searching eBay and Craigslist for nearly a year or so. It was a no-reserve auction that had just popped up one day. I emailed the dude and asked if he would just sell me the bike for x amount of dollars and he replied with, “Call me.” After doing just that we ended up talking for hours about bikes and everything in between. He ended the auction and sold me the bike.

Turn on any TV, open any magazine or take a stroll down to any local pub and you’ll notice one thing; it’s cool to be chopped. But becoming trendy or in fashion goes against everything that chopper building is about. As the popularity grows more and more in the mainstream media, the prices of old motors and parts rises making them less affordable to those that actually know how to work on them. Shit, it takes several thousand dollars just to get a roller and motor these days! But what about all those Evo motors that are sitting in busted up bikes and back yard garages? Bobby Middleton of King Kustoms and Hotrods in Lombard, Illinois, did what any true hot rod builder would do and bucked the trendy power plants and built him a proper chopper using one of those good reliable motors. Enter Dago Deadeye.

Well it all started while I was surfing the interweb. I was checking the classifieds and came across this guy Gil’s badass little BSA oil-in-frame roller on Chopcult. It had a cool stance and rad mag wheels. I thought to myself “Man! I see a tough little Mad Max Bonneville racer! You never really see a wild setup on an oil-in-frame.” Slim Fab did a great job setting up the roller, so I was pumped. It turned out that the owner and I had a few mutual friends and he had a sporty project that he needed painted. I own Headcase Kustom Art, so getting the paint for Gil was easy, but getting it on trade was key for me. After some negotiations Gil had a paint trade and I had a BSA basket case project. I went to find a motorcycle salvage yard in my area and stumbled on a gem in North Hollywood called Johnson and Wood. This place is a Mecca for used Japanese parts. Since the wheels were XS650 fronts I figured I would use as many Japanese parts as I could to give direction other than using obvious British parts. I knew I wanted it to look as tough as possible.

Along the Menomonee River at 400 West Canal Street in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, stands a building that most two-wheeled brethren consider Mecca.

I’ve known the style of bike I wanted since I was young and first saw a group of guys riding down the highway on their choppers. That image stuck with me and the idea of what I thought of as the ultimate bike stuck with me as well. Over time, I scoured the contents of old chopper rags and found myself coveting specific components. My original image eventually became more defined. I began collecting parts for this bike long before it came into my possession. Parts came through swap meets, eBay, and hounding friends to let go of certain gems from their own personal stashes.

There are a three ways of building a custom; the cheap way leaving much to be desired, the fast way that looks good for the moment but quickly deteriorates, and the right way, that takes the longest, but well worth the extra time. Factory Metal Works went the extra mile on this ’66 Triumph 500 to separate themselves from the sea of the quick and the dirty. Lucas Joyner, owner, explains.

Back in the winter of 1973, Dan Nelson shot this sweet Panhead named “The Guillotine” in Garden Grove, California. The bike cost the owner $900 and he dumped another $400 into it over the two years it took him to put this chopper together.

I picked up a frame from a guy a few miles outside of the city. It was a straight-leg frame that somebody had goose-necked back in the day. That’s where it started.

I’m a dreamer. For me, getting my hands on a knucklehead was always one of those things that I thought would never happen. Not that it’s impossible or scary, it’s just that it’s kind of a bump up into the big leagues and I’ve always considered myself more on the slow-pitch girls softball level. So when I caught wind of this bike, I kept quiet for a minute trying to see if I could pull it off on my own. I then realized that I’m broke and it just wasn’t going to happen. That’s when I hit up one of my best buds, Craig. He’s the brains in the group and is also a money hoarder. It’s not that he’s rich, he just sucks at spending money. After some serious debating, Craig decided to just loan me the money so I could make my dream come true. Without a doubt, it was one of the gnarliest things anyone has ever done for me. Soon after the money made it into my hand, a plan was made and we all piled into my buddy’s van and drove to Arizona to check it out.

So when Jeff (Mr. Holt to you) asked me to write up some words about my bike, I didn’t realize how hard it was going to be. To me the easiest thing I can say is it’s simply a product of love and laughs. It’s more about the stories that surround this bike during its metamorphosis rather than the bike itself, but this is a magazine about bikes, so I digress.

Twenty-four-year-old Frankie Klepadlo has a great attitude and a bright future ahead of him. In this day of the internet, he still practices the lost art of conversation. He’s made several connections in Southern California for putting great bikes together with the help of friends old and new. Already having built his first bike when he was just outta high school, Frankie knew his way around a bike project but was seeking something a little more on the second round.

“Even though I am Italian, I am crazy for the chopper chicks and for the psychedelic sounds of the ’60s.” States Frankino, owner of Chopworks out of Tornio, Italy.

Back in March of 1972 former editors Steve Stillwell and Jim Clark met up with Tennesse native Tom Cass during the Daytona Bike Week and Shot his 1969 Shovelhead that was hard-tailed, molded, and painted in candy red lacquer. Other standouts of the bike are the modified 350 Yamaha gas tank, 16/19-inch wheel choice, and Aee springer, headlight, and seat—that was covered in crushed velvet. It took Tom five months to turn the box-stock hunk of parts into the swell machine you see here. The bike cost him $1,500 and all he put into it was another $1,500 making this one hell of deal even in the early’70s. This machine truly is yet another sweetheart from the Street Chopper archives!

One of the fine things about building your own custom chopper is riding down the road, knowing every sound, every nut and bolt, and being confident that if something should go awry, you have the knowledge and fortitude to fix it to get back in the wind. That being said, it was pretty great when Jesse Bassett of The Gasbox in Cleveland delivered this fine chopper to me, road ready to eat up the miles.

Sometimes the best place to look for guidance is much closer than you think. Outside influences are good when dealing with the unknown, but more often closing your eyes and looking deep within can lead to greatness, at least self-proclaimed. Mikey Santoro is the son of the famous Mad Mike from Spitfire Motorcycles and has someway been involved with two wheels since he was a kid. After years of wrenching on other people’s bikes, the time had come for him to build one for himself…his way.

If you're reading this magazine, you must know who Jasin Phares is…don't you? Yeah, that one dude originally from Kansas that builds killer bikes up in Northern California. Well, there's no better way to get to know him than by checking out this Q&A we rattled off on the side of the freeway.