|So long story even
longer, I fished around on eBay and found that the
result of the mortgage crisis was that people were
literally giving away parts for fat tire builds. It was
bizarre - like name your price or something. There
seemed to be no limit to how low they would go. I bought
an 11 inch wide fender with internal wire tubing for
$15. No, I'm not making this up - I was surprised as
|The wheels were a bit
of a challenge - but not really. I found some guy who
did a take-off of brand new rubber and wire rims from
some big-dollar chopper and now these "new" take-offs
were just "taking" up space. Rubber, rims, wire -
everything for $400. Seriously, I couldn't look these
kinds of prices and slices. I was at a bit over a grand
and was rolling up on the lift. Plans? Who needs plans
when you're flying by the seat of your wallet?
|I never did space out
a fender before, but i figured if those goombahs on
Discovery could do it and get paid for it, I could do it
for free and how bad could it be? My choice of spacer?
The ever present (at least in MY garage, buddy) spark
plug box. Taped those bad boys right to the rubber with
some duct tape and we were ready to do some cuttin' and
|I got these rear
fender supports for like $75 and most amazingly, they
fit the frame predrilledholes like nobodiess busienss.
With this half inch space in place - an Idea began to
whirl around in my feavered brain. You'll see where it
leads to the worlds first "Outer Seat Linear Spring
Gizmot"...really, what else could you call something
like what I was about to reveal?
The fact of the matter is that I was beginning the construction
of a bike that I would never be able to ride. I've found that
bikes with good rear suspension actually make the whole thing
feel better and (in some cases) make the spinal issue fly away
like a match put to yesterdays newspaper in a warn California
But again, the fact remained that I was still in mid-attachment
of this wheel to a hardtail frame and my most recent revelation
indicated that I'd better STOP and STOP SOON.
So I did. And sat down hard and did some real thinking about
what I was doing. I was acting like there was not issue, like
there was no growing old and like there was this crazy place on
some forgotten highway where middle -aged guys really became
young, dumb and full of come 22 years olds and the laws of
physics and traffic tickets simply didn't apply to us as we flew
down imaginary highways wearing nothing but engineer boots,
tight blue jeans and a sleeveless with the loyalty of the month
grinning bloody in the representation of some crazed animal or
better yet, human anatomy. The name above was always a mythical
place and the rocker on the bottom was always a deviant form of
manslaughter. The lowest one read the letters of our hometown.
We smelled the blood beyond our white-caked nostrils and the
only thing that settled our sour stomachs from the previous
evenings retching was more silver cans of the stuff that got us
there in the first place.