Restoring a motorcycle is a long, slow process. Especially when you've no where to get new parts except to make them or modify parts intended for something else entirely. Such was the case with the Wackemall 750. On the Yamaha 650s and Harley-Davidson motorcycles that we usually work on we often sacrifice one bike so that several other bikes can be repaired but with only one Wackemall having ever been made that was hardly an option. I guess we were lucky Veggie didn't design and make his own tires as I've no idea how we could actually make our own tires. Yes, a hundred years ago motorcycle builders made their own tires but those tires never traveled as far or as fast as the tires on the Wackemall 750 or any modern motorcycle. Tire making exceeded the realm of the do-it-yourself builder about 95 years ago when motorcycles exceeded about 20 miles per hour.
Every part must be checked for fit against every part it fits, every scratch removed inside and out. Getting rid of the scratches on the inside is often more important than removing scratches on the outside as internal scratches harbor grit, dirt and acids that cause premature wear and tear and eventually, complete engine and transmission failures. People think of mechanic work as dirty and it often is but assembling the heart of a high performance motorcycle engine is done to cleanliness standards that would embarrass most restaurant owners. If it doesn't sparkle it doesn't go inside the engine.
We had been at it night and day for a couple of weeks when one night while sleeping in a recliner in the back of the shop my cell phone awakened me. It was the alarm company telling me that someone was breaking into the shop via the walk-in door. I quickly moved towards the front of the shop with my .38 revolver in my hand only to be met by two men wearing white jackets. When they saw me they turned and ran towards the door but just as they ran out the door the met Steve with a 12 gauge Winchester Defender shotgun leveled in their direction. With an 18 and 1/4" barrel and double ought buckshot there was no way he could miss so I simply stepped behind a steel toolbox for cover.
The next thing we knew the two of them blasted straight into the night sky and out of sight in just seconds. Even if Steve had actually intended to shoot them he would have never had time to get off a clean shot. Less than two minutes later the first of several Burlington Police Officers arrived on the scene having also been alerted by our alarm company.
Of course the Burlington Police Department didn't believe the part about the two guys in the white jackets flying off into the night sky but they wrote it into their report just the same. They couldn't deny the damage to the door but they weren't able to lift any finger prints so it really didn't matter. Donny and Wooley came in early the next morning and suggested we go ahead and purchase the video cameras we'd been talking about but putting off buying because there was always some tool we wanted more. Steve and I didn't argue so Wooley set out to go pick up the video equipment.
Donny went to work in the shop and in a few hours had made a new lock that made the old heavy duty look look as if it were something bought in a five and dime store. Getting past Donny's lock would take a lot more time and tools than most thieves can afford to invest. We kicked around the idea of going into business manufacturing and selling Donny's super locks but Donny explained that if we had to buy all new materials to build such a lock it would probably cost about $2,000 to make one lock. Fortunately for us, the materials Donny used to make our lock were left over from a weapons job he had previously done for the United States Military. Exactly what, he's not allowed to tell even his own brother and business partners.
Later that day we finished wiring the Veggicycle and Wooley again hooked up a battery so we could start checking the circuits. It was then the motorcycle began to recite yet another poem.
"Through every curve, through the corners we'd slide
accelerate out, a hell of a ride!
The man had me mastered of that I've no doubt.
When I thought it was ending he'd figure it out..."
"How is it he's still talking?" Donny shouted, "I thought you shipped all the old electrical stuff to Russia!" Donny was close to being in hysterics.
"I did ship them to Russia..."
"Never mind how I can talk," the old motorcycle shouted. "They're coming to get us!"
"Whose coming to get us?" Wooley asked.
"Wackemall!" the motorcycle shouted. "They're close, I can sense them."
"The guys in the white jackets?" Steve looked at me. I nodded in agreement.
"You mean they've already been here?" the motorcycle asked. "We've got to leave before they come back."
"You're not ready for traveling," I replied. "We've still got several more days of work before you can hit the road."
We worked out a plan. We knew lots of folks around Greensboro and Burlington who wanted to build things or fix things but didn't have a shop or tools to work with. We decided to keep the shop open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week as long as they would come and use the shop. Of course that meant the four of us were going to be working a lot more hours keeping tabs on all the comings and goings but the thugs from Wackemall Inc would be a lot less likely to drop buy if a lot of people were hanging around and working.
One of the first people we called was our friend Brian Heagney. Besides be an architect and a children's author, Brian had figured out a way to make a high performance, alcohol based fuel from the Kudzu that grows wild over everything here in the Southland. He just needed a place to make it. Kudzu had almost been the death of Veggie Head Stalker on numerous occasions so it would be fitting if Brian's super fuel made from Kudzu could be used to power the Wackemall 750 as well as the rest of our growing fleet of cars, trucks and motorcycles as it looked as if I was soon going to fight that battle against Wackemall Inc whether I wanted to or not.
In the meantime, we moved the old motorcycle and my recliner inside a steel cage in the back of the shop where someone would always be locked inside with the motorcycle until we were ready to bring it out or Wackemall Inc was destroyed.
Continue to Soul Food
Every part must be checked for fit against every part it fits, every scratch removed inside and out. Getting rid of the scratches on the inside is often more important than removing scratches on the outside as internal scratches harbor grit, dirt and acids that cause premature wear and tear and eventually, complete engine and transmission failures. People think of mechanic work as dirty and it often is but assembling the heart of a high performance motorcycle engine is done to cleanliness standards that would embarrass most restaurant owners. If it doesn't sparkle it doesn't go inside the engine.
We had been at it night and day for a couple of weeks when one night while sleeping in a recliner in the back of the shop my cell phone awakened me. It was the alarm company telling me that someone was breaking into the shop via the walk-in door. I quickly moved towards the front of the shop with my .38 revolver in my hand only to be met by two men wearing white jackets. When they saw me they turned and ran towards the door but just as they ran out the door the met Steve with a 12 gauge Winchester Defender shotgun leveled in their direction. With an 18 and 1/4" barrel and double ought buckshot there was no way he could miss so I simply stepped behind a steel toolbox for cover.
The next thing we knew the two of them blasted straight into the night sky and out of sight in just seconds. Even if Steve had actually intended to shoot them he would have never had time to get off a clean shot. Less than two minutes later the first of several Burlington Police Officers arrived on the scene having also been alerted by our alarm company.
Of course the Burlington Police Department didn't believe the part about the two guys in the white jackets flying off into the night sky but they wrote it into their report just the same. They couldn't deny the damage to the door but they weren't able to lift any finger prints so it really didn't matter. Donny and Wooley came in early the next morning and suggested we go ahead and purchase the video cameras we'd been talking about but putting off buying because there was always some tool we wanted more. Steve and I didn't argue so Wooley set out to go pick up the video equipment.
Donny went to work in the shop and in a few hours had made a new lock that made the old heavy duty look look as if it were something bought in a five and dime store. Getting past Donny's lock would take a lot more time and tools than most thieves can afford to invest. We kicked around the idea of going into business manufacturing and selling Donny's super locks but Donny explained that if we had to buy all new materials to build such a lock it would probably cost about $2,000 to make one lock. Fortunately for us, the materials Donny used to make our lock were left over from a weapons job he had previously done for the United States Military. Exactly what, he's not allowed to tell even his own brother and business partners.
Later that day we finished wiring the Veggicycle and Wooley again hooked up a battery so we could start checking the circuits. It was then the motorcycle began to recite yet another poem.
accelerate out, a hell of a ride!
The man had me mastered of that I've no doubt.
When I thought it was ending he'd figure it out..."
"How is it he's still talking?" Donny shouted, "I thought you shipped all the old electrical stuff to Russia!" Donny was close to being in hysterics.
"I did ship them to Russia..."
"Never mind how I can talk," the old motorcycle shouted. "They're coming to get us!"
"Whose coming to get us?" Wooley asked.
"Wackemall!" the motorcycle shouted. "They're close, I can sense them."
"The guys in the white jackets?" Steve looked at me. I nodded in agreement.
"You mean they've already been here?" the motorcycle asked. "We've got to leave before they come back."
"You're not ready for traveling," I replied. "We've still got several more days of work before you can hit the road."
We worked out a plan. We knew lots of folks around Greensboro and Burlington who wanted to build things or fix things but didn't have a shop or tools to work with. We decided to keep the shop open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week as long as they would come and use the shop. Of course that meant the four of us were going to be working a lot more hours keeping tabs on all the comings and goings but the thugs from Wackemall Inc would be a lot less likely to drop buy if a lot of people were hanging around and working.
One of the first people we called was our friend Brian Heagney. Besides be an architect and a children's author, Brian had figured out a way to make a high performance, alcohol based fuel from the Kudzu that grows wild over everything here in the Southland. He just needed a place to make it. Kudzu had almost been the death of Veggie Head Stalker on numerous occasions so it would be fitting if Brian's super fuel made from Kudzu could be used to power the Wackemall 750 as well as the rest of our growing fleet of cars, trucks and motorcycles as it looked as if I was soon going to fight that battle against Wackemall Inc whether I wanted to or not.
In the meantime, we moved the old motorcycle and my recliner inside a steel cage in the back of the shop where someone would always be locked inside with the motorcycle until we were ready to bring it out or Wackemall Inc was destroyed.
Continue to Soul Food
