Swanny and I were both working at Vetters Cycle Repair on Edith when this bike was finished. The bike was taken to Denver that weekend and won first place in the Denver Bike and car show. That year we were New Mexico points champions. I was the starter of the bike, mixed the nitro and Donny was the crazy dude who strapped this thing on and rode it down the track. Swanny and I had many biker adventures throughout New Mexico in those days. Santa Fe, Taos, Angle Fire and beyond. We decided one night at Russells house that we should road trip to Taos and around 'the loop'. We left at about midnight out of Albuquerque and made it to the rest area on the high mesa about 8 miles outside Santa Fe. We crashed for the night. We woke with stiff bones and tumble weed in our hair, what a sight. We went past Santa Fe abit to a roadside cafe that I knew about for some breakfast. It was early and the OPEN sign had just flipped, perfect timing. We went in, sat down and ordered. Within 5 minutes, about 4 New Mexico State police cars pulled in. Swanny said, "great Vance, bring us to the morning roll-call for State Police. We never ate so fast in our lives. We made Taos in great time, so great in fact we could not get a motel room because it was too early. Actually, the first motel, Jack Denvers Motel took one look at us and said they were full. We sneared and the neon sign flashing "vacancy" as we pulled away. The next place gave us a room but we would have to wait a couple of hours for the maids to finish. No problem, we went to sleep on the grass in the court yard. After checkin and a quick shower, we headed out again, this time with a belly full of old Indian folk medicine and some citrus for that extra little zip. We stopped in Red River, had some beers. We stopped in Angle Fire, had some beers. After 8 hours of riding, sitting in the sun with ice cold beers and generally laughing our asses off, we headed back to Taos were we enjoyed the night life. Why can't every road trip be that much fun?
Good story, man. It seems that a road trip just never is as good when you plan it. It's those trips where you leave in a matter of hours that are the best.
ReplyDeleteOf course, it was one of those last minute road trips that had me and Gayle packing all of our shit and driving almost non-stop from South Tacoma to Albuquerque.
What's the curly cable that runs from the cylinder head to the handlebars for ?
ReplyDeleteThat is an ignition kill cable. the end on the handle bar is attached to ignition wiring and the end by the cylinder has a key-chain type clip that Donny would attatch to his leathers. The idea is that if Donny becomes seperated (ie: shittin' pants from the impending impact with asphalt) from the bike, the ignition is shut down to keep the bike from rocketing to God knows where. Thats what it is. By the way, the ration of nitro and white alcohal was 94% nitro. I determined the mix every half hour according to the ambient air temperature with the use of a hydrometer. This was a large, bong looking test tube looking thing with percent increments on the side. Inside this tube went the floating thermomenter. I would take reading from the floating thermomenter and adjust the mix to achieve 94% nitro. The starter motor was a Chrystler truck starter attached to four car batteries in a Radio Flyer wagon. The starter had two guide pins that slipped into a reciever by the main crank bolt. This was to prevent me from turning into a piece of saltwater taffy when in depressed the red button. We turned the fuel lines on (two 1/2" lines feeding a air asperated carb.) I'd look up at Donny from my kneeling position next to the bike and he would give me the knod to fire up. Once you press the button to start a nitro Harley, NEVER let off the button until the engine has started(explosions could occure if you don't follow the rules). BLAP, BLAP, BLAP...she started, I always let my breath out after a start and would resume breathing. Disconnect the starter and place it on the wagon and another helper would roll it away as I stayed to wait for warm-up. With my hands on each cylinder I waited for the engin to warm and then signal to Donny that he was ready.
ReplyDeleteThis lasted for one and a half seasons, maybe two. Then everything changed. I went home from work one day and the apartment was empty. My biker woman from Arizona had left. My apartment was empty...you've heard the stories of "..the bitch even took the ice-cube trays...". Yea, that happened to me. I was 27 or 28 and I left New Mexico in good graces with the Law and the Outlaws, a rare combination. My life on the east coast was about to start...good-bye biker lifestyle, I'll miss you.