For a very long time I've been talking to my wife about building a hot rod. But we've never had the space or money to do so. Now, while cars were my first love, and my wife is the love of my life, I have an ever growing passion for motorcycles and riding. This passion has been growing rapidly since I got back into cycles last summer when my wife suggested I buy a Hinkley Bonneville from one of her coworkers (which I did without a second thought). Then this past April, as the weather started to get nicer, I started to get an itch that turned into a burning desire to build something. I looked around online and in the neighborhood for a suitable rod, but could find nothing in my price range. Then one night I had a dream...
In my dream I was in a dirty garage. Tools and welders and memorabilia were scattered about the whole place. I could see myself with angle grinder in hand, dirt under my finger nails and a few drops of sweat at my feet. In front of me was a pile of steel tubing that morphed right in front of my eyes... but before I could see what it morphed into the blasted alarm went off.
The next day I was smoking a cigarette with my wife. I turned to her and said "you know, I don't think I'm going to build a hot rod. they take up too much space, cost too much, and we already have too many cars." To which she replied "ok..." I continued "I think instead I'm going to build motorcycle, a cafe racer" She immediately, and with out thinking, replied "that's great! buy as many motorcycles as you like, they don't take up much space!" There was a pregnant pause, after which I started cackling maniacally. I went inside and started searching the web for bikes.
About a month later I found a '71 CB450, advertised as with title, on eBay about 30 miles from my house in Denver. I put it on my watch list and forgot about it until the weekend. Then that Saturday, as my wife was taking a nap, I decided to hit the PC and say the "ending soon" email. I checked it out, made a decision and bid on the bastard. And I'll be damned if I didn't win it. A few days later I took a day off work, rented a trailer from UHault and picked her up.
Her is now named "BB". This is the name my wife came up with for her, as I'm now building it for her. You can ask what it stands for, but I'm not sure yet if profanity is kosher here. BB came in pieces, lots of them. According to the seller, the PO had pulled it out of grand pappy's barn and tried to start her without any prep, thus blowing the piston rings. Since she was already apart I've had the chance to look inside, and indeed she needs new rings. Fortunately, EVERYTHING else looks fantastic internally. Outside she was dirty and dinged up, just as you'd expect a 41 year old bike to look. Wait, she's not 41, she's 43! The seller didn't have the title when I picked her up, he sent it to me later, and the title say 1969.
So now I'm off to the pits where I will hold her and pet her and call her BB. And when I'm done I will give her to my wife, then buy a CB750 for myself.
Now, since no thread is complete without them, I give you pictures.
Picking up BB:
BB in her new home:
BB's big, beautiful heart:
Parts parts parts:
Two months later:
My helpers:
In my dream I was in a dirty garage. Tools and welders and memorabilia were scattered about the whole place. I could see myself with angle grinder in hand, dirt under my finger nails and a few drops of sweat at my feet. In front of me was a pile of steel tubing that morphed right in front of my eyes... but before I could see what it morphed into the blasted alarm went off.
The next day I was smoking a cigarette with my wife. I turned to her and said "you know, I don't think I'm going to build a hot rod. they take up too much space, cost too much, and we already have too many cars." To which she replied "ok..." I continued "I think instead I'm going to build motorcycle, a cafe racer" She immediately, and with out thinking, replied "that's great! buy as many motorcycles as you like, they don't take up much space!" There was a pregnant pause, after which I started cackling maniacally. I went inside and started searching the web for bikes.
About a month later I found a '71 CB450, advertised as with title, on eBay about 30 miles from my house in Denver. I put it on my watch list and forgot about it until the weekend. Then that Saturday, as my wife was taking a nap, I decided to hit the PC and say the "ending soon" email. I checked it out, made a decision and bid on the bastard. And I'll be damned if I didn't win it. A few days later I took a day off work, rented a trailer from UHault and picked her up.
Her is now named "BB". This is the name my wife came up with for her, as I'm now building it for her. You can ask what it stands for, but I'm not sure yet if profanity is kosher here. BB came in pieces, lots of them. According to the seller, the PO had pulled it out of grand pappy's barn and tried to start her without any prep, thus blowing the piston rings. Since she was already apart I've had the chance to look inside, and indeed she needs new rings. Fortunately, EVERYTHING else looks fantastic internally. Outside she was dirty and dinged up, just as you'd expect a 41 year old bike to look. Wait, she's not 41, she's 43! The seller didn't have the title when I picked her up, he sent it to me later, and the title say 1969.
So now I'm off to the pits where I will hold her and pet her and call her BB. And when I'm done I will give her to my wife, then buy a CB750 for myself.
Now, since no thread is complete without them, I give you pictures.
Picking up BB:
BB in her new home:
BB's big, beautiful heart:
Parts parts parts:
Two months later:
My helpers: