Weasels Spfld.
Butché's Bikeographyis under construction |
|
Because what Butche does best (Drink and bullshit) And ain't afraid to tell the same story twice. Weather it's the same way or not. he's locked in..
Dixie, Pepper, The Bar Fly, and The Indian
| ||||
Dixies got a long Weasel heritage to match her long springer front end. A jockey shift, suicide clutch, dual plugged, this bike get's all the love she can handle. cue: flight of the valkyrs All right here we begin...so sit tight...and remember Dixie is a jockey shift. When I bought that Indian, Claydog had been without a bike for a few years. He and a friend had plans of sailing off to the Marquises Islands. They had a boat in San Francis that he lived on and worked on for this big excursion. It was just off the highway and late at night once in a while he could hear a shovel's prahhhhp parhhhhp heading up the 101. Long story short ... he moved back to Springfield and went hunting for "Baker." A few years earlier he had sold him a knuckle (a pix is on here somewhere) with a VL front end ... he went to buy it back ... instead. He came home with... Dixie. He named 'er. i didnt. the name fit and fit very well. i heard once that it was after a girl he liked in grade school but never asked him. it didn't matter ... it fit. you can see Dixie in early stages (around 95-6) in his "style page" ok.. lemme see...jump forward...in fall or summer of 96 he ordered his dyna and got it in January of 97. i still had the Indian and Claydog, Toad and i had plans of bike week at Daytona the Indian didn't make it and i rode Dixie instead. it was immediate love. that summer she took kctommy's boy Harley to Sturgis and when she got back to Springfield that fall ... she ... sat ... every so often I'd pester the shit outta Claydog and ride her with him to get beers... once on new years day(98) i was out on my pan and ended up on the south side out town at a bar. he met me down there and we took the pan home and grabbed Dixie. off we went again to a bar that at the time let you ride inside. After a couple we went to leave. Dixie really didn't want to go.. she wouldn't pop just right and some jackass kept telling us how we were doin it all wrong. i never mentioned to him his tennis shoes were on the wrong feet or that needed a shower by fire hose but I shoulda... Dixie popped to life and mr roadside commando ran (scratch that) wobbled to the front door and held it open ... that was how Dixie was facing so off i went.. claydog headed for the overhead door in front of him. I should too ... but... NOOOOOO i gotta go for the front door.. and the door came at me as i was half out.. hitting the headlight and cracking the lens.. i was PIST. pulled out into the street and got off to got have a discussion was really really pist. i knew better. i shouldn't have let that drunk hold the door. i don't know why i went that way. claydog came around the corner ... and told me to just get back on and lets go. off back to the south side we went. back to the bar i started at. we knew the bar tender there so we were kinda looking for cheap beer ... when we went to leave Dixie threw another fit and we both took a ride over the top ... she finally fired and Claydog just took off saying "see ya at the house"...i hopped his dyna and went to catch him ... somewhere along hwy 65 i kept seeing a single tail light and raced to catch it. never caught it and got the house before him.. what the fuck? where 'd he go? then i hear in the distance parummmp paurrrrrmp and rollin in came the two of them ... he made a wrong turn down a dead end and explained ... brakes work. there are tons of memories that Dixie provided. like when Claydog bought David Mann's vl springer we put it on dixie..(jesus that made her sit low.) and went for a ride... I hit a cocker spaniel when I caught claydog I said hey I hit that dog..the reply I got "so É was it fun? let's go." ohhh lemme move forward to when I bought her from Claydog. So I got married. Pepper didn't have passenger pegs. Claydog now had 3 bikes in his garage. I bought Dixie off him and got my springer back from KCtommy threw it on and off I went for a full year. when i moved to a new house Johnny t had been hangin with me all day. he begged me to let him ride her to the new house. we were a little...ahhhh loose. so i told him (he's never ridden a suicide clutch but his beemer had a jockey shift) if you can make it to the end of the block and back you can ride across town. Away he went. shifting once. down and back. i was impressed but looking back i think he was more impressed himself...lol anyway i told him I'd follow him in his ranchero (a whole other legend) and i watched him take off.. through a vacant lot outta control almost dropping the bike and himself nearly hitting an abandon house legs windmillin' hands firmly on the bars and ass in the air...all the way to the sidewalk where his feet found the floorboards but control had not as of yet been acquired zooming down nearly clipping 3 mailboxes and off the curb like a 10 yearold on his schwinn. I just stared jaw dropped headlight deereyes and thought... ahhhhhhhshit. he's gonna die. I finally caught up to him É he killed it at a stop sign but roll started and made it to the house ... screaming whooo hooooÉ I guess he liked ridding Dixie over pepper...lol I was just glad he was alive. a few months later the bad happened. The top end ... it was time. Dixie ... came apart. in a million pieces. every nut and bolt. while i had her apart.. i figured.. lets chop. lets cut lets really make Dixie the bike that i always say her as. for the next few months i rebuilt. you can see all that under the demolition link. i got help from toad painting and claydog stretching. i stretched the down tubes 2 or so inches. dual plugged the heads. polished the aluminum boxes CV carb. got rid of the seat and eventually.. traded the shocks for struts to lower it even more. the first ride i made outta county was up to Kansas City. i went to meet JAWZ from Nashville oh is way home from Sturgis... he summed it up best~~~ Ok, so we ride 723 miles from RC to Independence, MO to meet with El Butche. We come riding into the Hooters parking lot and see the orange bent over his bike with tools spread around the driveway. My 1st thought was to ride by and pretend I didn't see him as we were so fucking tired already. But I came to me Weasel senses and stopped. I ask what's the problem Butche? He responds, no big deal I just lost my brakes is all. We begin to bleed the brakes but to no avail. He has some brake if he pumps them a few times. I suggest he doesn't tail gate anyone. After admiring Butche's chopper and noticing there is no seat to be seen anywhere, I begin to think to myself that this guy sure to god didn't ride 200 miles on the frame. Yep that's what he did. Now I'm thinking he must be packing some good drugs if he didn't feel that. To summarize, No seat, no brakes, suicide clutch, jockey shift and kick start shovel and El Butche is thinking life is good. Only in the world of Weaseldom can you meet critters like that. Jawz
now lets go a little FWD to today. ... .Mainly cause I'm tire of typing... Dixie is coming apart again. I am changing a few things ... going to electronic ignition, reworking suicide pedal, rebuilding tranny, changing out oil bag, stripping chrome off brass parts.. and a few other things. there is plans for Claydog, Squirrel, Billy Ray, and a few others from Kansas City to all ride choppers to Sturgis. i don't wanna be the first to break down in the wild bunch run I'd never live it down. when i get done I'll add to this.. But for now. Dixie is pretty popular around these parts and in the world of weasels. not a whole lot of guys can ride her and even more never want to... the brakes work sparingly, there is no seat, no shocks, suicide clutch, jockeyshift, push pull throttle... i just grin. she sets aside from all other bikes. she's more with less. she's all mine | ||||
Pepper... dunno why... the name just fit. After i sold the pan i was in need of a new bike... and not wanting to blow all the duckets i had i got word from KC Tommy (remember him?) that there was a good sporty for sale in Leavenworth Kansas. Leavenworth. Again. So off on a Friday afternoon i went. When i go to the shop the guy that owned it wasnt there. He didnt even know i was comming. I had a few tricks up my sleeve. I had place my money in various pockets again. I knew he owed the shop for work they had done. I knew he HAD to sell the bike. There she sat. the color of a Dr Pepper can. So i waited. and waited. and waited. Finally the guy showed. Whelp. i'll give ya 3 thousand. I knew by the look in his eye he was crushed. He knew he had to take it. I knew he had to take it and so i took his bike. Now for the fun parts... Hmmmmm how am I gonna get this bike home? No one came with me. I drove up in my classy 1977 Chrysler Newport. 4 Door. Green with flames. ohhh ya... 9 miles to the gallon and a "float" that would pucker Richard Pettys ass. Hmmmmm no trailer... No hitch... BUT. I do have tools.... So... i took off the trunk lid. Witht the help of the now saddened former sporty owner and a shop hand i placed "pepper" in the trunk, sideways and put the trunk lid in the back seat. Strapped in we made for home. As for all the remarks about her hoppin around... I parked it in my house and worked on it in the front livingroom. I'd just kinda pop a wheelie on the front stoop and "parumph~parumgh" I'd nail the front door that would pop open and in I'd go... Like D Day on Animal House. People just shook their heads. I enjoyed it.
I painted it twice. Once just flat black and once Toad and i did flames on it. (says he's got pictures somewhere 'cause i dont even remember the flame pattern) It was a real nice clear coat that never made it to the bike. The main seal and bearing tranny main shaft had gone out and i never got it right again. (I'm still not the one to ask on a sporty trannys.) anyway.. I took Pepper up to a guy in town and told him put the tranny back in and i'll drop 'ya 100$.. he asked if i'd sell it... ya... $3000 (hey it was a good #) I had that bike for a very long time... from 98 until i sold it in 03. I could give you a million stories like spinnin' donhughts in front yards untill hittin big tree roots flippin' over or, when Tona rode with me I wouldn't put passenger pegs on it so whe had to wrap her legs around me to ride with me, or my DUI, or ... bunches and bunches of good times on that bike. I really did love that sporty... kinda miss it sometimes.. then i think.. nah... i got.. the legend... I got Dixie. | ||||
| ||||
So lemme start with the lil indain that could...not (short version) Somewhere in the 90's Johnny t and I always talked about Indians. We talked about never really see one and how cool it would be to own one. I read the paper. I see one... a 57. An Enfield Indian (do your own fuckin homework i aint gonna get into explaining how a company that went belly up in 54 was making bikes in 57) Anyway...Johnny T had some cash and went and bought it... It had lots of chrome and all that shit... He worked on it here and there over the next couple of years and finally gave up and moved to NYC to finish college and etc. (that's his fucking story so ask him about all that stuff). He sold it to me and i began the NIGHTMARE. I tore apart the engine and rebuilt it (it was siezed). It never ran right. I didnt have whitworth tools. the Manual was a pamphlet at best. (and on and on) So i pitched in the towel and called in a local "limey" bike guy and paid him to start completely over on the engine and split cases again etc etc etc. When i went to pick it up he had crossed the alternator wire over the timing chain and it ATE the magnet and winding... so i hadda buy a new one,but i got it home eventually. The next day i got a head gasket leak. then when i fixed that i got a nic in the heads and had to shave them. When i got it all together the valve guides when south and i sent the top end to Baxter Cycle (more limey guys). i got them back. put them on and the bike started and ran! so i pulled out of the house (yes jackass i used to work on all my bike in my front room like D-Day on Animal House) took off down the street and snap goes the clutch cable. I'm now pushing the bike again... (remember i worked on the engine alot as did some others. there was alot of pushing) back to the house and into the clutch. I fixxed the cable and forgot the washer between the siccisor action and the clutch basket. Tearing out all of the "G-30" bolts (no it wasnt the first time and that wasnt the last time), but it was the time i bought lot extra "G-30"s..(remember withworth threads) and now had to replace parts on the basket... If anyone needs information on a 1957 through 60 Royal Enfield clutch... I'm your man... I fixed all that shit and then the crankcase breather started shitting out all the oil...with a little help from claydog we ran the crankcase breather back to the oil fill and drilled a vent.
Ta~Da |
