This here cardboard box full of odds and ends was where it all began. Or was it just an idea? Or maybe too much Jack Daniels. Or maybe Bandit was tired of me whining about it. Anyway, like a beggar on the streets of Calcutta, or Blanche Dubois in "A Street Car Named Desire," I depend on the kindness of strangers. And there ain't none stranger than Bandit's cohorts. Strange but mighty generous, such as Rogue, who cut us a deal on the FXR frame and forks. We're relying on Joker Machine for all the quality components including the end caps for the swingarm to get this puppy on two wheels.

We couldn't figure out what this chopper was going to be. Maybe the definitive Rat Bike, or a stretched-out steel spider with a hellish V-Twin, or whatever kind of Rube Goldberg, slapped-together monstrosity we stumbled upon.

The critical thing is that I've got short arms and legs (kind of troll-like) so whatever we made, it had to have a low center of gravity. I tried riding Bandit's Buell, but when I came to a stop, my feet didn't touch the ground. So we agreed that the frame had to damn near scrape gravel. I kind of fancy myself an iconoclast, so I didn't want to become another ad for yuppie motorcycling. Bandit wouldn't let me pour acid on the thing to give it a lived-in look. If it was going to be a Rat Bike, he proclaimed with bombast, it had to be cool. Well, cool and two bucks might get ya' a bottle of warm beer. I was determined to make my mark, rat-assed or not.

Bandit suggested that we chop a couple inches out of the frame.

OK, I sez. Bobbed fenders? Bob's yer uncle, I sez. Narrow the fender rail space? Narrow it is, sez me. Now we're rockin'. But to tell ya the truth, it's still a frame sittin' in mid-air and a box full of used parts.

But don't count us out yet. We've got a sizzling summer approaching, I'm outta work (I ain't teachin' summer school), the Jack Daniels is flowin', and we're fillin' up more cardboard boxes. Bandit's a tolerant guy, he's got the summer (if he don't go sailin' off to the seven seas), and me? I got a brain bubblin' like a pot o' hot chili. No tellin' where this crazy-assed bike is gonna' take us. Stay tuned for the exciting, painful, besotted epic to follow.

On to the Part 2........

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