"1970 STROKER SHOVELHEAD CHOPPER KICKSTART" ['MRKICKSTART11'] MORE COOL SHIT FROM THE EPICENTRE OF THE MODERN LONG BIKE . . . . MAYBE IT GOES BACK TO THEIR AFFILIATION WITH LONGBOATS, SHIT, I DON'T KNOW . . . . BUT I DO KNOW THAT THE SWEDISH CREW HAVE HAD A THANG GOING ON WITH THE OVERLY LONG FOR OVER TWO DECADES . . . . 'HAZY DAIZY' SPORTS A BIG INCH TROUBLEHEAD, A CRAZY LOW IDLE ON TOP OF RON JEREMY LIKE LENGTH.

Back in the early nineties I had the misfortune of riding a Trumpy chop with a front end not unlike that on the uber groovy 'Hazy Daizy', it was a piece of shit to start with, crapped out mid 70's Tiger motor in a late 60's donor frame, a poorly spoked sixteen inch pig wheel on the bodgy as fuck rigid arse end, nineteen up front, excruciatingly badly executed engineering where the ridiculous front end was vaguely attached to the headstock, 18" apes that musta been a metre wide, no semblance of braking ability, and this was just the good side of the equation . . . . our workshop was charged with the sacred quest to get the shitbox running as close to an actual motorcycle as we could, our two resident ace wrenchers and avowed chopper haters gave it their best and at least the old single carb 750 was able to hold idle, change gears and make forward progress, after a fashion, but there was only so much that could be done with the rest of the thing allowing for the virtually non existent budget of its lucky and loving owner . . . . you can't polish a turd.

As the youngest member of Classic Bike Tune and the non-mechanic/parts dude, I was given the decidedly dubious treat of taking the fucker for it's shakedown ride around the block, much to the undies soiling laughter of my partners Ron and Dave and the shop apprentice, Grub. It was without a fucking doubt the most miserable and unenjoyable two wheeled experience of my thirty odd year old life . . . . it was nigh on impossible to shift gears, it wouldn't turn, it didn't stop, it made my arse bleed, it burnt my leg and generally performed like the primitive piece of excement that it was, at this point I was so turned off by my first 'chopper' moment I swore I'd never entertain straddling another one as long as my now bleeding arse pointed to the ground.

Well, twenty years later, I've ridden a few more of these fandangled things, they still handle like a semi on ice, my arse always ends up screaming and one of them burnt my calf so badly I could smell the flesh sizzling, but unlike the diabolical mechanical abortion that I attempted to poke around the block at Taree Street all those years ago, they have been well engineered, meticulously built and a truckload of fun to almost ride, and more importantly still, despite their handling shortfalls, they look the absolute and total fucking bollocks . . . . and by the end of the Aussie winter 2013, I'll be riding my own, not with the extra length front end like the perfectly purple 'Hazy Daizy', just two inches slightly over, but a chopper it will be nonetheless . . . . I can hear Dave and Ronnie cacking themselves right now . . . . and I couldn't give a bag of frosted cocks.