Can you believe my luck? Here I am just hangin' outside the Mangy Moose in Hill City when Tana (she's the owner) comes up to me and says "You've gotta meet these guys" and proceeds to introduce me to the guys who own and work at RB Custom Choppers.

I say "You guys got any of your bikes hanging around?" and I'm thinking no, you butthead because it's raining and what chopperbuilder is gonna have his pride and joy soaking up liquid sunshine in the Black Hills? But these guys apparently moved a bunch of people off some picnic tables and parked FOUR of their handbuilt scoots under a tent so they could keep e'm close but keep 'em dry.

So, it popped and sputtered once of twice and then POW - right into idle. We put the tanks on an buttoned a few odds and ends and then I decided to wait until the weekend to fire it up in the street.


 

 The Last You'll Hear About This Shit - I Promise....

Warren Back From The Dead

I'm back - didja miss me? Most folks didn't even know I was gone. If you're an avid reader of ChoppersRule.com or watch KickStartTV.com you all know I was going through some personal crap involving back pain that spun my world sideways. Anyway, because there are no secrets between me and my adoring, chopper riding public you may recall that some of my last articles were pretty much depressing pieces of shit detailing me puking and going to the hospital and getting shot full of painkillers, etc. etc. Well, I'm as human as the next guy – and the simple fact of the matter was that I got addicted to high-strength pharmaceutical narcotics. Yup, your old pal Warren turned into a pill eatin' machine of epic proportions. Just me and that sweet kid that usta sing “Ben” (a love song to a rat) – except I didn't die.




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