At a show in Las Vegas we ran across a team of media gurus. These guys were from Source Interlink Media, which owns nearly every popular hot rod, motorcycle, atv, etc… magazine on the market. We had a customer’s chopper on display and convinced them to come over and have a look at it. We of course exchanged information and decided to follow up at a later date. Some time goes by and the emails start flying back and forth and they decided they wanted to do a write up on our Touring Trike for their fairly new publication American Trike.

We had just finished one of the most beautiful V8 Trikes (in our opinion) to date for another customer and we just knew we had to use that specific trike. We got lucky since the owner lives in Arkansas, a little distance away from us, and had his trike in our shop. We grabbed the camera and the trike and hit the road looking for the perfect backdrop. We ended up in several locations around town, all which were a little different than the last.

It seems to be that the best backdrops for our bikes and trikes are nasty, run-down, abandoned buildings that are about to fall in on themselves. And so that was the last stop we were looking for on the ‘photo-shoot tour’ before we headed back to base. And wouldn’t you know it, out of the hundreds of photos we sent to American Trike, they picked that location for the center image. We found that little gem on the eastside of town nestled right next to the abandoned railroad tracks that were once used for hauling lead and zinc out of a neighboring town since the 40’s. Once they mined all they could, several railroad tracks, (and stations along them), became obsolete. Fortunately for us, the city has yet to tear them down, creating the perfect location for our photo-shoots. So we ended up with an excellent shoot and a great article by the guys at Source Interlink Media/ American Trike. Let’s just hope that when the next magazine company wants to do a story, the city doesn’t destroy the ‘eye sores’ of the town.

Click Here For The Full American Trike Article

My dad and I had a deal worked out that if the temperature was 40 degrees or above, I was free to ride my bike to school. From where we sat at the breakfast table the thermometer could easily be seen on a post out the patio window. It was here I would sit eating breakfast until I heard the porch door at the back of the house screech open. That sound would be dad coming in from the morning milking. From the time I head the sound of the door until dad walked into the kitchen was about 90 seconds. This small window of time while he was taking off his boots, coveralls, hat, and gloves gave me more than enough time to slide the glass patio door open *quietly*. I would slip over to the post where the thermometer hung and breathe on it until it got up to 60 degrees or so. Then, I would slip back inside the kitchen where I sat eating my breakfast until dad walked in.

I would visit with him while being mindful of the temperature outside. Then, just when I saw that the temp was above 40, I would jump up from the table and mention that I was riding the bike to school that day. Immediately, my dad’s glance would go to the thermometer, and seeing it was just above 40, he would forgo a would-be argument and agree to me riding to school. I don’t remember it ever being too cold to ride to school. And that was one sweet deal.

Over the years I’ve been told that I always take things too far, so it wasn’t a big surprise when one morning this little trick failed me. Turns out, Dad just couldn’t believe the temp had warmed up to 40 when only an hour and a half sooner it was 18 degrees and he was busting ice in the pond for the cattle.. It was almost as though God was telling him everything I was up to. The good thing about my father being smart is that it helps shape your wits! I remember that if I had a story to tell him, I had better not stutter or that was it!

As soon as I got the chance I traded the 125 for a Honda 200T. After I cut the tailpipes off and replaced them with a short piece of chrome pipe I found in the closet, it sounded pretty good! It sounded like my 350 chopper but just a little less cool.  I didn’t realize my step mom would pitch such a fit over that Kirby vacuum tube I made my new pipes out of! I would have offered to put it back in the closet but I had already hack-sawed it into two pieces and welded it up to my bike.

I wasn’t worried about riding a 200cc instead of the 125 allowed by law because I would be turning 16 before too long. Then, I would be able to ride as big a bike as I could afford. Turns out, that 200cc was as big as I could afford for some time.

And so here is what I learned from 14 to 16 years of age.

#1 Life doesn’t last forever, if there is something you want to do, do it first.

#2 Cops always stop short bike riders

#3 With bikes, it’s hard to step down in size. There seems to be a lifelong progression for bigger & faster.

#4 Don’t get caught with tobacco or beer behind the barn. Dad doesn’t like that stuff.

#5 If you get into trouble every time you turn around, stop turning around!

I know it may have been a while since you went to school, especially if your in the market for a trike. But one more chalkboard lesson won’t hurt. Be sure to get out your pencil and notepad out and take some notes on why you need a V8 Trike from V8 Choppers.

1. Your wife (or girlfriend) will thank you:

Fellas, at one point we’ve all heard our girlfriends, wives, or any woman who has set on the back of our motorcycles say, “I don’t have enough room” , or “it’s not comfortable enough”, etc.. Well now you can fix that. With our trikes, each rider is offered enough leg room and seat room for short weekend trips or extended trips that can last all week. We even offer passenger grab bars that can be affixed to the trike to offer added stability for the passenger, just in case you happen to find yourself on some twisted roads.

We also know that when it comes to women, they like to look good no matter what the occasion. In order for that to happen, it usually means they will bring at least 5 sets of clothes to change into. And that’s all got to go somewhere. With our Touring Trike you get 10 cubic feet of storage space! Plenty of room for all your clothes, helmets, and anything else you may need.

2. Customer service is second to none

Customer service isn’t something we take lightly at V8 Choppers.  Although this may sound cliched, not many companies actually back up the elaborate promises with the necessary actions. Here at V8 Choppers, we’ve done almost everything imaginable to make our customers satisfied.

“This is a COMPLAINT! V8 Choppers has forever ruined me. I’ll never again be able to own another brand of motorcycle. I have been riding v8 bikes since 1998. My last two v8 products have been a V8 Chopper and now, a V8 Chopper Touring Trike. I can sum up the reasons I own a V8 Chopper in a few short words.

• The best looking V8 Bikes on the planet
• After sale support comparable to none
• My ego
• Did I mention fast”

-Neil

3. It’s the only trike to make you feel young again

Don’t take our word for it though.

“Its like I tell my buddies, my chopper trike makes me feel like I’m 18 again.”  -Ron

“I own a motorcycle and a V8 Chopper trike. I love both of them, but guess which one I ride 90% of the time? The trike! Ride one and you will understand why! Guess which one gathers the most attention at rallies? The trike! BTW, I am approaching 72 and loving it.” – Harold

 4. It will outrun 99.9% of all bikes on the street

We might not be able to prove this, but we don’t mind trying! With a wide array of motor options you can bet that you will leave several people second guessing whether they want to pull up next to you at the light. 875, the amount of horsepower you could have on your trike. We know that this may be extreme, but hey, why not? If you are looking for something not quite as radical, you can slip into a base model that has 300hp. Still enough hp to outrun most other trikes and smooth enough to make you forget it’s a V8.

I would sometimes get a glimpse of a buddy’s magazine at school of bikes and I was always able to see the ‘hottest’ bikes available. But every day after school it was chores, hunt, fish, and ride. (Not always in that order) It was about this time that no matter what I was doing, I found myself thinking about GIRLS! I just couldn’t get them out of my head. You guys know what I mean.  I held on to everything I knew for a couple more years, but after that, I finally quit hunting and fishing. But the bikes and girls stuck around!

I remember having several different bikes after the SL 100. But the one that stands out the most is the Honda CB 350 that my cousin’s husband had. This particular bike had twisted steel chrome rods in place of the rear shocks, a king and queen seat, tall chrome twisted steel backrest, highway pegs, and extended forks that seemed to extend all the way across the county!  Just looking at it was enough to get my mind a racing. I think I made about three trips over to see it before I finally decided I needed it and struck a deal. There are some things a guy just knows and he knows it to the point he doesn’t need to ask anybody. This is one of those things I just knew. Much like how your folks don’t tell you the whole story about girls.

I loved this bike and I wasn’t going to walk away again without it. There were two things I knew:             #1. I wasn’t going to rest until this bike was mine and #2. Once I did have it, I would be the coolest! That ole’ Honda found its place at my home and turned out to be my first chopper. From then on it was just me and my chopper, and I was on top of the world. In no time I was the envy of all my friends at school and life was just good. In fact, life was very good. . There were a few older guys who were cooler than me at school, but nobody felt cooler than me. I loved the way the straight pipes sounded as I would wind the motor up through the gears every time I took off. I was 15 and that was 34 years ago. When I hear people say that choppers are on the decline, I laugh, because as long as there are people who like cool motorcycles there will always be choppers!

Anyway, I’m having a great time on this bike up until the point where the local cops pull me over. I guess I looked too short to be riding such a big bike. Upon closer inspection of my driver’s license, the cops discovered that I was only valid to ride a bike that was 125cc or smaller until I turned 16. DANG! Once my dad was informed with this info, it was time to sell the bike. It wasn’t long before I had another bike. I had to settle for a CB125.  Not as cool as my first chopper, but legal. I hadn’t had a bike for some time and I really needed another bike, so you take what you can get. There used to be a Chevrolet dealer in a little town called Seneca. Turns out, our local Chevy dealer, Johnny had this bike as a trade- in and everybody that knew Johnny, knew he loved horses. I stopped by one day after school and Johnny and I worked out a trade: my horse for his bike. I RIDE AGAIN! The 125 didn’t keep me from being stopped by the local law, but it wouldn’t go fast enough to get me in trouble. To get into trouble with this bike I had to either do donuts on the high school sidewalk, or be seen riding down the football field after school. You do what you gotta do.

My buddy Kyle ended up with a bike just like mine and together, we made a few stories. Kyle and I have been best friends since kindergarten; guess I’m better at keeping friends than bikes. Kyle lives just down the road from me today. He was the best man at my wedding, and I his.  He will tell you some of the best times we ever had was riding bikes. I have a few really great friends, but Kyle however, is the only one I rode with, went to school with, chased girls with, went to church with, outrun the law with, and went to jail with! But that’s another story. I will get to that later.

During the past 6 years I had plenty of scrapes with my old bike. I had worn the chrome off the rims from breaking down the tube type tires with rusty screwdrivers so I could patch it up and get back on the road. I had a lot of memories with that bike so it was tough to set it aside for a newer and bigger model, but the call of the open road was much stronger than my desire to ride a bike under powered and too small.

The first day after I turned 14 and it was possible to take the test, I was in the exam room with pencil ready. Looking back, I had never been more serious about a test expect for when I took my insurance license test, but that was 11 years down the road. I passed both the written and driving tests with flying colors, which if you remember from my past stories; I didn’t always do so well on tests. In those days the exam officer would give you a temporary certificate once you passed. You then had to take the certificate to the tag office where they would convert that to an actual license.

On that particular day I was running short on time. My precious mother had been diagnosed with cancer not too far before then and the family decided to spend the summer in Oregon near the west coast in a little mountain town called Mt. Hood. If I didn’t get my license on that day I wouldn’t have a chance to get it for another two months. So within the time constraints of having to get packed and ready for the trip and get my license, I didn’t make it to the tag office in time. (Oh well, at least I have my certificate!)

Side Note: Most everybody knows I was born in OK. But not long after I was born, my family moved to Oregon where my dad worked as a logger. We lived there until I was 4 when we moved back to OK and that’s when my Dad bought the dairy farm I grew up on. My oldest of three sisters turned 15 the same year we moved to Oregon. It turns out she had fallen in love with her boyfriend. This young man (Gordon) followed us to Oklahoma and married my sister with the promise to my parents that he would live in OK. But before the ink could dry on the marriage license, my sis and Gordon caught a train back to Oregon.  (If you like my stories, you should here some of my sisters!)

So upon the request of my mother, we were to spend the summer in Oregon with my oldest sister right after I had turned 14. My dad sold his herd of milk cows, quit his job in town, and bought a travel trailer. We loaded up my SL 100cc Honda Enduro in the bed of the truck and west we went with my certificate stuffed away in my wallet. Once we arrived I took off ‘legally’ on the roads anxious to see what I would find. I road EVERYWHERE I could. It wasn’t hard to make friends, all I had to do was show them that I was legal to ride on the roads even though I was only 14 and they thought that was the coolest. I got a job changing sprinklers for a local orchard farmer. It usually took me about three hours a day which left me LOTS of times to explore the great North West.

My Uncle John and Aunt Hazel lived in Oregon and John had a 1946 Harley Davidson. They would show up sometimes to the trailer and I always remembered how cool his HD 74CI bike was with the foot clutch and shifter on the side of the tank. I think that my mom convinced my dad to buy a motorcycle for himself so that he and I could go riding together.  One Saturday morning Dad and I rode that 250cc 2 stroke bike 250 miles over into Washington State to see his brother Bill. We rode two-up 500 miles in one day. I loved every mile.

Two days before we left Oregon to come home that summer, I was riding through a neighboring town, Hood River. There I was minding my own business riding my bike when a highway patrol car pulled me over. He stated his reason for pulling me over was that I looked too young to be riding on the road. No problem I thought, I have a certificate! I pulled that little piece of paper from my wallet and handed it to him. He gave me an odd look and told me that this certificate might work in Oklahoma, but that it wouldn’t fly here. He was nice enough to allow me to ride my bike back to our place. But he warned me that he better not catch me on the road again. Since I was leaving in two days to head back to OK, I thought to myself, ‘what’s the chance of running into him again?’

The very next day I was headed over to meet Brian, a friend of mine, at the state park where we were going to have a church picnic. I by accident went to the wrong park. As I was looking for the correct park I saw a Highway Patrol car on the side of the road. He had another car pulled over heading the same direction as I was. The second I saw that HP car my heart sank as the conversation from yesterday played through my mind. As I approached the car the officer stepped into the road to waive me down. As I swung wide to avoid him, our eyes locked and…oh boy…it was the same cop from yesterday! I wasn’t about to lose my license or my bike! I pinned the throttle wide open and away I went. I can guarantee you my heart was pumping faster than the single piston inside my bikes motor.

The road I was on went straight for about a mile before I had to make a quick turn off the state highway and though the country store parking lot that was positioned on the corner. Back to straight road for half a mile and then a sharp 90 degree corner. I almost made it through the corner with bike pitched sideways before the excitement of the moment overcame my riding skills. I went off the turn, into the ditch, and went face first into the 20’ dirt bank. (Daaaang) The crash left me with a busted face shield and plenty of bruises. As I gathered my thoughts I noticed that both shoes had been blown off in the wreck! I quickly gathered those back up, picked up my bike, kick-started it like a wild man and took off back down the road. Another mile down the road was Rusty’s house. (Another friend of mine) I made it there just in time to pull my bike around the back side of the house and watch the HP car go driving by.

When I was for sure that the cop was gone, I got back on my bike and drove it straight back to the trailer where we were staying. ‘My work here is done’ I thought…..at least for that summer. Ironically enough this proved to be not the only time I ran from the law. It’s not that I was a rebel; I just wanted to ride my bike! And if that made me a rebel…then so be it. But in my defense the officer did say “don’t let me catch you on the road again.” So I made sure he didn’t catch me.

Happy Riding,

Stan Hughes

5. Rune Stone Ride (81 Miles)

Written Directions

Begin in Broken Bow, OK and head north on US Highway 259 from Broken Bow and just stay on 259 all the way through until you hit a T in the road. At the T, which is US Highway 270, take a left and ride about 20 miles to Heavener.

Scenery  

The scenery is woodsy, mainly pines once you ride North of Broken Bow. Before you reach Heavener you have to pass through about 30 miles of twisting and turning through mountain passes.

Road Quality  

The road is perfect! It’s nicely paved and has a lot of curves as well as some straight-aways. There is no traffic!

Roadside Amenities  

There isn’t much but a few towns and residential homes along this route which makes it that much more remote. Near the end of the ride, you can take the Telimena Byway Note: You have to ride out to the Rune Stone National Park in Heavener to see the proof the Norsemen discovered America around the date of November 11, 1012 (which is what the lettering represents), long before Columbus fumbled upon it. It is believed that these Norse explorers crossed the Atlantic, rounded the tip of Florida into the Gulf of Mexico, found the Mississippi River, and sailed into its tributaries, the Arkansas and Poteau Rivers, around 750 A.D. This date is indicated by the grammar used on the Poteau Runestone . The park which surrounds the stone is overlooking the whole town of Heavener and is a beautiful site to behold. There is a waterfall and a really nice area made around the stone so you can view the stone and walk around the area.

4. Rural Lake Keystone Ride (25 Miles)

Written Directions

From Tulsa, take HWY 412 west. Exit at 209th west avenue also called Prue Road. The ride begins here. Ride north and follow the road around the north side of Lake Keystone to Cleveland, OK.

Scenery  

This route is hilly and curvy in the beginning, opening up to a view of Lake Keystone from about a hundred feet up. It winds around the lake going over small sections and through both flat and sparse terrain as well as hilly and wooded.

Road Quality  

This road used to be terrible, but it’s brand new blacktop asphalt now (2012) for most of the ride. The last few miles are country road so take it a little slower. Mostly hilly and sweeping curves, just a few of them are tight and twisty.

Roadside Amenities  

This is a rural ride, but has several places to stop for gas because of the state park. There’s a gas station at the beginning, two along the way and several at the end in Cleveland. Check out any of several entrances to state parks on Lake Keystone.

3. The Best of 66 (40 Miles)

Written Directions

This is Route 66 between Stroud, OK and Arcadia, OK. There are a lot of places to check out and it’s just a great road. Be sure to take your time and don’t be afraid to turn around to check something out that you missed.

Scenery  

This is a small portion of Route 66 and it’s beautiful. Some curves and lots to look at, but you will probably have to backtrack for some photo ops, markings leave a lot to be desired.

Road Quality  

Road changes between counties, but mostly great. Lots of trees and curves. Also just to the west of Arcadia is the Arcadia Lake and Park.

Roadside Amenities  

Lots of little towns and small shops and stations. Chandler has a Route 66 museum that is really a must see, great place. Pops, Bikers Shak, and Round Barn are in Arcadia. Lots of great places to stop and find things you can’t live without!

2. Lake Hudson Tour (40 Miles)

Written Directions

Start in Locust Grove, OK and head north on 82. When you get to Langley turn left on to route 28 and end your route in Pensacola or Adair.

Scenery  

Drive through foliage tunnels, along side Lake Hudson, see open prairies with rolling hills in the distance. You’ll also pass next to the Spavinaw Hill State Game Refuge and see its untapped beauty. You’ll also be in the vicinity of Snowdale State park (Which sits next to Lake Hudson)

Road Quality  

Lots and lots of twist and turns with a few hills thrown in. Great pavement not a pot hole one.

Roadside Amenities  

You won’t be taking this route for the things to do along the way … just gas up and ride!!

1. Talimena Drive (55 Miles)

Written Directions

This route is located in the southeast region of Oklahoma and starts in a very small town called Talihina, OK. Talihina is about 60 miles south west of Fort Smith Arkansas and
located off of US Highway 271. The general path of this route is simple — you are traveling east from Talihina, OK to Mena, AR. To start, just get to Talihina and head east out of town on state route 1. Stay on this same road as it crosses into Arkansas and becomes state route 8 and leads you right into Mena, AR.

Scenery  

The Talimena National Scenic Byway or, for short, Talimena Drive extends west to east along the ridgeline of the Winding Stair Mountain and Rich Mountain in southeastern Oklahoma. These are the highest point in elevation between the Appalachians and the Rockies. These fifty miles are filled with sharp curves and 13% grades extending from Talihina, Oklahoma on the west end to Mena, Arkansas on the west end. There are several vistas that overlook the valleys to the north and south as well as picnic grounds along the route as well. Some of the most breathtaking scenery in Oklahoma can be found along this drive.

Road Quality  

As mentioned above, the road is filled with lots of curves, switchbacks and steep grades. The speed limit is SLOW which of course allows you to enjoy the scenery. Since the road generally only supports scenic traffic, the road conditions are less than perfect. Since you will be traveling well under the speed limit, you will probably not even notice an occasional pothole.

Roadside Amenities  

Access can be at Talihina, OK on the west end or Mena, AR on the east end. Both of these towns offer lodging and restaurants. Along the way you will find several vistas and picnic grounds at Old Military Road and Horsethief Springs. You may also want to stop by the Kerr Nature Center which has trails and exhibits that focus on the region’s native flora and fauna. The highlight stop along the way is the Queen Wilhelmina State Park and Lodge sitting high atop Rich Mountain. The park includes a lodge with 38 rooms, restaurant, gift shop, and campsites. The park and lodge are located near the east end of the drive just a few miles from Mena.Talihima State Park is also in the area for you to enjoy.

On the Dirt Roads

In 1970 there were no cell phones, no computers, and no online internet. But here in Ottawa County we had something much better. It was a very well laid out and fully operational network of dirt roads that connected people to each other. This network of roads was woven through the hills in Oklahoma’s most north eastern county and is considered the gateway to the Ozarks. Characterized by trees that overhung the road forming tunnels and creeks with low water bridges. We had occasional thunderstorm that would cause streams to rise high enough to block the roads and separate us, from the rest of the world. (Which was awesome when the school bus couldn’t get through)  And better yet not once did I ever see a cop car or a posted speed limit sign.

I felt it was my duty (as a motorcycle rider) to explore every mile of those back roads. Back then it was different than riding today. It used to be important to stop and talk to everyone who was standing outside in their yard or working in their fields. If you didn’t recognize them from church you would simply pull up and introduce yourself.

I remember thinking I was in heaven when I had free time and a tank of gas. When I wasn’t riding my bike I was talking about riding it, whether at church, on the bus, or at school. I laugh now but then, 45 mph was fast to me. My horse couldn’t go that fast and nether could my dog, and they could both out run me on foot. I remember thinking how cool it was to swing my leg over my bike, kick start it to life and roar away. (When it would start) It was nothing like chasing my horse down and being out of breath before I even got the saddle strapped on. Don’t get me wrong, I liked my animals, but I LOVED my bike! Anyone that knew me knew I loved my bike and loved riding.

I remember telling one of my friends, Bobby, about my bike when I saw him at church. I told his brother, Theron, too but they weren’t as impressed as I was.  One day I’m telling Bobby just how fast my bike is because I of course liked talking about it and mostly because I was sick and tired of hearing him talk about his horse.

Bobby had this horse named Babe, and according to him it was the greatest horse that ever lived. I knew better because I owned the greatest horse that ever lived. (If you’ve ever owned a horse you know what I’m talking about) ‘But hey I’m into bikes now and I didn’t have time to debate who had the better horse.’ Anyway, turns out that Bobby is really serious about how great his horse is. So I’m gonna show him just how fast my 60cc Yamaha truly was. It’s not easy to prove things when you’re 9 or 10 years old. For one, it’s hard to get together when you’re not at church or school. But, we had the internet of dirt roads. And it just so happens that the dirt road that ran in front of my house, also ran right in front of Bobby’s house! So as you would suspect, one Saturday after we spent weeks of mouthing, I found myself lined up in Bobby’s pasture right next to Babe. You have to understand, Bobby was 2 years my senior. He was a foot taller and a whole lot smarter than me. (Not much has changed)

So I’m fixing to show this older guy a thing or two and it’s gonna feel good!! Since I had been riding horses from the time I got out of diapers, I knew there was no way this horse could outrun my bike. If there was ever one thing that I was 100% sure about, it was that I was going to win this race. I’m lined up next to Bobby and Babe one minute about to get a leg up on my manhood, and the next I’m eating dirt from that horse! The funny thing is that dirt tasted an awful lot like crow, which I’ve tasted many times since. My bike spun the tire and just went side to side. By the time I was able to get anything resembling traction, the race was over and I was left a broken hearted boy.

Three things I learned that day,

1. In short races like drag racing, the hole shot is everything.

2. If you’re gonna mouth off, do it after you win.

3. If you race and lose, deal with it, you can’t win every time!

In the long run I believe it’s better to have raced and lost than to have never raced at all! You win some and you lose some, ABR. (always be racing)

So lets hear it. I know you all have stories of your first big race. Maybe yours turned out better than mine!

One Bright Sunday

Growing up in Wyandotte, OK, a small town located within the Bible Belt, it was common occurrence to attend church each and every Sunday. This Sunday started off like any other typical Sunday; wake up early, scarf some breakfast, tidy up the clothes and head out the door. But the day was already starting to appear differently. This time after church we had planned to go visit my cousin Stoney. It was a welcomed break from the normal routine. So all though church service I set anxiously awaiting the closing prayer, followed by the routine handshakes as you make your way out the door to the front of the church. Now, I liked my cousin Stoney and had always looked up to him since I could remember, but I will never forget how much cooler Stoney became when we pulled up to their house on that bright Sunday afternoon and Stoney had a motorcycle parked in his front yard!

But the day kept getting better; Stoney taught me how to ride! I’ll never forget the bike, it was a 1970 red & white Yamaha 60 Mini Enduro. ( A lot like the one in the picture)   Once he showed me how to ease out on the clutch, give it a little gas, and shift through the gears, I was in complete awe. That one experience completely changed my life. But not how most people use that phrase now; (a spider landed on my shoulder… and it has completely changed my life), but in a way that nearly every move I made after that day has in some way been connected to motorcycles. So alas, not a day went by after that that I didn’t mention to my dad just how much I wanted a bike like Stoney’s.

Growing up on a dairy farm in rural Oklahoma was great for several reasons but one in particular was; when you were poor, you didn’t really know it, because everyone around you was in the exact same boat. But my parents always seemed to have enough money to pay me for the chores I did around the farm. Some of the chores included: Cleaning the milk barn (never ending), feeding baby calves (they kicked hard), brining in the milk cows for milking (they kicked harder), cutting holes in the ice on ponds in the winter (painfully cold), and putting hay in the barn for storage. (painfully hot) So by telling my dad that I would do anything just to have a motorcycle, I was figuring it couldn’t get much worse than what I was already doing. So naturally, like any other 8 year old, I decided to bargain, but the only thing I had to bargain with was my allowance. But I didn’t care, I didn’t need money, what I needed was a motorcycle.

Once I convinced him how ‘vitally important’ it was for me to have a motorcycle (no easy task) the day finally came, and even before I was 9 years old!  What a cool mom and dad! Just as all of us will never forget how we felt when we rode our first bike, we’ll never forget that feeling of ‘getting’ your first bike.

One evening while I was cleaning the barn after school I saw a black and yellow Yamaha come riding up the lane to the milk barn. My Uncle Carl, who worked construction with my dad, was ridding it. Uncle Carl told me it was a new one he bought for Stoney. I thought, ‘NO WAY, this is my bike, where’s dad, I’ve gotta get this sorted out, Stoney already has a bike!’ Right before panic mode set in I saw dad driving in from work coming up the lane in his old Chevy pickup. I remember I could just make out this little grin on his face and I knew beyond a doubt, this was my bike. After a couple minutes of these two grown men pulling my leg, they finally relinquished control of that bike to me. WOW!!!! I still remember the way the handlebars felt in my hands. I kicked it to life, plunked it into gear and roared off down the lane. It was the best feeling in the world, complete freedom. When I finally had to park it and go inside the house that evening, I remember parking it in the yard outside my bedroom window. Then (when I was supposed to be asleep) I would look outside and dream of all the possible places I would go, what I would see, and how cool it really was to have this bike.

When summer arrived, as soon as my chores were finished I was on my bike. As the new wore off, there were days I spent more time trying to get it started than I spent riding it. I learned how to maintain it, fix it and patch my own flats. I even learned how to cypher gas out of my mom’s car with a short garden hose. (Remember, I traded my allowance)  There are so many childhood stories that revolve around this little motorcycle, and even as I write this my mind floods with thoughts of riding down the Ciuga dirt road I grew up on. Any neighbor for miles around knew that when they saw a little yellow and black bike with its ears pinned back being followed by a dust cloud, it was just me going to the swimming holes, church socials, and fishing holes. Nowadays, people would probably freak out seeing a kid riding down the road with a shotgun lying across the handlebars of his bike. But I assure you, it was a common sight in my little part of the world!

I will revisit stories about the little yellow bike from time to time, as it represents 6 wonderful years of my childhood. But enough for now, just wanted everyone to know how the passion started. I’m often asked the question, “How did you come up with the idea of the V8 Chopper?”  It’s not that I’m at a loss for words when I try to answer this question, but it just takes explaining my life to explain the answer.

I hope the people who own a V8 Chopper, wether it either a bike or trike can relate to parking it in their garage and just looking at it thinking how cool it is. I hope at least for some it will restore a bit of youthfulness in their soul as it does mine. Those of you who know me well know that it doesn’t matter if the glass is half full or half empty; somebody needs to summon the waiter!

If you have similar stores please share them with us in the comments section below. I would love to hear your stories!

All of us here at the shop are looking forward to getting out and enjoying some good Florida sunshine. While we don’t get to spend a lot of time out and about during the show, we do enjoy seeing all the people that stop by out booth. Many times people are seeing us for the first time and completely flip out when we fire up one of our 400ci or 427ci motors. It’s interesting to note that most people have become complacent to the sounds of v-twin motors. You start a v-twin at Daytona Bike Week and hardly none will turn their heads to see what it is, but you start up our V8 Motorcycles and V8 Trikes by V8 Choppers and people knock others down to see what is making that noise. As soon as ears have found the source of sound, their eyes lock onto the bikes and stare in amazement that the sound is coming from a chopper! It would make a good video to record the surprise on people’s faces as you start one up for the first time. Maybe that’s what we will do this year if it ever gets slow in the booth.