Its going on eight years now that ive been stuck in this motorcycle daze. My daily life has been motorcycles motorcycles motorcycles for the last 7 1/2 years. I picked up a beat down 82 honda cb450 somewhere around 18 years old for $75 bucks and its been downhill ever since.
Brought it home fixed it up, rode it twice and threw a rod. Fucking end of the world right? Wrong! I stripped the fucking jap scrap down and sold its guts on ebay. Made a tidy little profit to. This got me hooked. By the next year I was working out of a basement / horse barn from the late 1800s had 25 or 30 bikes and the part business was booming.
Well into my first chopper builds and buys, the outcast of the biker world in my town. I wasnt a rocket jocky like all the other asshole rich kids in my town and I was making more than most of my older friends that were out of college. Shit I was making more than most of my friends parents.
Making money doing what I loved and getting to ride and build everything I had always dreamed of as a kid. This was living the dream for me and still is.
Tryed the college thing while running the parts business, that shit didnt work out. Passed everything with flying colors but was unhappy as hell and almost merked myself on a number of occasions. First year and last year of college that shit just isnt for me.
Got lucky and my fathers friend had a warehouse for rent $400 a month for the dungeon. This place was huge! within 2 months of being there I had upwards of 40 bikes choppers projects cafe racers you name it I had one sitting around. Business was a booming! Hired my two derelict friends to help out in the shop and onward from there every day 8am until 5pm working in paradise.
Got in some shit somewhere allong the line and it was time to leave town for a bit.
Bike week 07 was two weeks away there was 10 feet of snow on the ground in my home town. Seemed like the thing to do at the time Daytoner beach! Packed my shit into my shitty little truck and hauled ass.
Havent looked back since been in florida for 3 years and counting now. Ran 3 or 4 shops down here
And here I am today still surviving souly from motorcycles, parts, choppers, bobbers, whatever I decide to Frankenstein up. Still making ends meet, still living comfortably and still riding a different bike every month!
I dont know where im going with this other than a breif intro as to how i got to where I am now and that if you have a dream fucking follow it no matter what anyone says. Everyone I mean everyone told me I would never make it doing what Ive been doing.
Its nice to prove the sheep wrong once and a while.
Thats it my brains numb and Ive been outa beer for 2 hours stay tuned for more choppers, skanks, and stories from Biker Bob / Bobs Chop Shop
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| somewhere in 2005 2006 the basement horse barn shop literally underground |
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