In August 2011 I found myself in need of inspiration. It had been a hard summer and the upcoming year did not show signs of improvement. My health continued to be problematic with little insight from the medical community. My hobbies were falling by the wayside with my increasing disability. I decided I needed a project.
I call it falling down a rabbit hole. You know how it goes... you're reading something interesting online, you click on a link that leads to something else equally interesting, and the next thing you know you have stumbled upon something that catches your eye. You have gotten somewhere, somehow, and you're not sure what link got you there, but you are happy you found it. This happens to me often.
When I was five years old my Dad retired from the U.S. Air Force and we moved to Torrance, CA. The house and neighborhood served us well, and was not bad, but it was not where they hoped to be. At the end of our block, across the street from the middle school soccer field, was a biker bar called The Deep Sands. I always remember before its doors closed and it became an insurance agency all the big choppers sitting out in front. At that age I only really had three goals for myself: to own a leather jacket, to be able to play guitar, and to ride a motorcycle. Yes, I did used to pretend to be Elvis, and play Hound Dog on a tennis rackets as if it were a guitar; I knew all Danny Zukos' parts from Grease. Living near The Deep Sands seemed appropriate to my little impressionable mind.
One day in August I fell down a rabbit hole thinking about The Deep Sands and my unfulfilled childhood life goal of driving a motorcycle. Sure, I'd ridden dirt bikes around, but I could not go for a ride down the street. The increasing neuropathic issues with my hands made it less and less likely I was going to be able to either. Five years ago clutching was hard enough, now I wouldn't be able to use the handbrake either. Somehow in my head I got the notion the three wheeled choppers with high backed seats were called Cheetahs. There certainly is a 70s toy 3-wheeled chopper of that name, and a modern motor trike company, but neither fit the image in my head. So I started cruising the web and diving in rabbit holes to see what I found.
Eventually, I found that in the late 60s and early 70s when Harley Davidson was sold to American Machine and Foundry and the quality of the bikes decreased guys who liked to chop up bikes started welding the front end of a Harley onto the rear end of a VW Bug. Thus, the VW Trike was born. It just so happens that I have a friend, who is an engineer, who is also a gear head, who also likes to work on Harleys and VW Bugs. I asked C if he had ever worked on something like this, and C said no. I asked him if he would be interested in working on it with me, and C agreed.
*** C likes to fly below the radar and has asked not to be named in the blog, unless of course it is for a job referral and you want him to build you a chopper.
