Groan, another book review

But what a book! The Original Wild Ones, Tales of the Boozefighters Motorcycle Club (MBI Publishing Co, 2005).

Frankly, it’s not a great book but by dint of being the only one available on the subject it warrants bookshelf real estate for anyone even vaguely interested in the history and antics of the ‘originals’ – the granddaddies of ye olde patche ganges…er, gangs. The guys and gals who were rebels when it still meant something and when motorcycles allied with road trips, drunken rowdiness and a certain amount of being beastly to townsfolk and back-chatting the authorities was as bad as it got. Before being fat, bald, tattooed and pointlessly aggressive on a stock Evo with a few factory accessories became the badge of those who offer themselves as bad to the bone.

And anyway, blame the bloody weather for the endless procession of postings not featuring rides-out. At my age, warmth and comfort have replaced a dedication to Riding That Knows No Limits.

But back to the book.

Accepted wisdom suggests the story runs something along the lines of: returning WWII vets bored with small town USA look for kicks aboard bobbed motorsickles with their best gals riding up behind. Cheating death at 90 miles an hour and giving the finger and possibly a black eye to all who stand between them and…blah.

Well, the truth is in there somewhere but can’t we simply imagine ‘them guys’ is ‘us guys’, blokes interested in biking because they like bikes not especially because they need something to replace the adrenalin high of a B-17 Flying Fortress at 25,000 ft. Of course I don’t know, but I imagine that having done the B-17 stuff, the very best you can hope for is not to be doing it anymore and that small town USA, with a bottle of beer and a Bettie Page-alike riding pillion in a ring-T and high-waisted skinnies is all the kicks you need baby.

All aboard for boozy biking fun

But back to the book (again).

‘Wino’ Willie Forkner it was who decided to bring together a few buddies hep to the joys of bikes, booze and bints and bestow upon them the name Boozefighters. And yea, having done this, the club, alongside many other such clubs grew and prospered, enjoyed ride-outs, engaged in all manner of fun shenanigans and generally got back some of what had been taken from them by the European and Japanese conflicts until the advent of urban decay, ‘police actions’ abroad against the Red Menace, and brainless wannabees going forever too far in a bid to make up for a lack of inches and a suppressed interest in the same sex (which would be far healthier and better for everyone unsuppressed) fucking ruined it for everyone.

Kind of like the Sex Pistols before Sid joined but without the Uranian aspect.

But back (once again) to the book.

The text meanders like a 1950s Land Rover with knackered track rod ends but… but it is the story of the Boozefighters Motorcycle Club and a mighty interesting story it is too.

And, it’s fair to say, everyone on two wheels in the Western World is shot through with a faint but detectable afterglow of the greatest bang since…well, the Big Bang.

Ladies and gentlemen, the joy that is the Boozefighters…

Boozemobile complete with converted trailer used as 'sleep it off' HQ

Balancing act

Bringing up the rear on a big twin in the California sunshine while wrestling an Agfa 120 Isolette folder…

Attending to Tomos #2: fabbing a carrier

Ever seen the secret stash chamber on a Tomos A3?

Hidden catch reveals ‘secret’ cache

Reach behind the saddle, tug on the catch and lift the seat to reveal it. Big enough for a flick knife, length of string, pet mouse, gum, porn mag, bong and all the other appurtenances a two-wheeled Tom Sawyer likes to carry around, not quite big enough for a helmet (unless you have the opposite of hydrocephalus), fuel can, or anything else even vaguely useful (that is, if you have no need to stab, tie up a parcel, grow an ear, chew, wank or huff).

Big enough for small stuff, too small for big stuff

The answer? A rack or carrier.

I have a welder, some scrap metal, a bench and an hour or two of free time – by an amazing coincidence, almost the exact ingredients for making one. Given I could’ve bought a factory example for six quid on eBay recently the exercise is admittedly pretty pointless, but I’m stingy, like making things and have an aversion to fattening eBay’s off-shore bank account so homebrew it is.

The remains of a school chair will soon become…

What I don’t have is a pipe-bender so a project such as this requires careful planning in order to use pre-existing bends or else cutting and welding to get the necessary shapes. Here’s an example of what I’m hoping to copy:

…a copy of this, the OE Tomos rack

First step is to cut out suitable lengths and cross pieces for the main part of the carrier. Next, is to turn ‘slugs’ on the lathe to strengthen the joints and provide something substantial to weld to. The alternative is to sleeve the joints but slugs have the advantage of being invisible once the welds are ground down.

Careful cutting and welding preserves the bends and obviates the need for a
pipe-bender. Now all I need to do is lay out the pieces on the bench, toddle off
to bed and wait for some hungry elves to come and make it into a rack

Turning solid steel ‘slugs’ to strengthen pipe joints

With the cross pieces shaped to match the diameter of the sides, the slugs turned and the various pieces held in place with a clamp I broke out the welder and set to. At least, I tried. No wire feed. Hmm. Nothing would persuade the wire to emerge from the torch.

My welder is a cheap(ish) Clarke 130EN Turbo which I use gasless with flux-cored 0.8mm or 0.9mm wire. Working back from the tip to the liner, everything seemed fine so time for a strip down and look-see. With the insides exposed I put a meter across the wire-feed motor which showed DC present. So far so good but other than ‘clicking’, it wouldn’t shift the wire.

Reflecting on the problem over a mug of coffee, it struck me there’s a gearbox fed by the motor which has (as you might guess) plastic pinions clotted with grease. Maybe the gears were seized? Though the whole shebang can be removed as a unit I thought I’d try a little heat first to soften the grease. Using an old hairdryer, I heated the gearbox and pulsed the torch trigger while twisting the speed pot to and fro. Half a minute or so of not very hopeful heating, pulsing and twisting and… success! It began to feed. Either the gears were gummed up, or there was dirt on the speed control track or something else equally minor yet devastatingly terminal. Anyway, here it was working again.

Unless it’s in the hands of a pro, a flux-cored gasless welder produces a strong but messy result. I’m no welder but I don’t mind ‘finessing’ the weld afterwards. However, and as is its wont, having sat for a while the flux-cored wire was blighted by moisture resulting in ugly, weak porous welds. You can counter this by maintaining a >3/4” wire length at the tip. Heat from the weld evaporates the moisture before it reaches the joint but it’s even harder to produce a tidy job.

However, welding difficulties aside, the rack began to come together:

Next morning…

…and the elves have done their work

I want to attach side guards as per the OE rack to keep a pannier from fouling the wheel, there’s some cleaning up to do and paint obviously, but pretty much the rack is together. I’ll post an update when it’s in paint and finished.

Now there's just this piece to weld in place, two brackets to make to
support the carrier behind the lamp cluster, a spruce up and some paint