Indian Rescue. . .

Last summer a friend and I took a ride down to Virginia to look at a flathead for sale. While it really wasn't what I was looking for, I did meet a guy who a can work wonders with the old iron. His name is Paul. He told us a story about some old bikes he rescued from a fire. This wasn't just any fire, it was complete destruction. We listen to the story intently and think nothing more of it. While looking around the yard we notice a tarp in the back with a bunch of crap under it. Paul removed the tarp revealing two of the most goner looking bikes I've ever seen:

Pretty fucked, huh?


  So as I'm gawking at these two utter wrecks, something strikes me. "Didn't you say you rescued three bikes?" "Yep. Check this out." Paul then leads us into a 10ft by 10ft shed next to the tarp where we see a chassis up on a stand that is absolutely perfect. Not perfect as we normal humans understand it, but perfect like the guys in Springfield envisioned when they first conceived of the chief. What I want to know is, how do you refab metal where there is none, or it's burned clear through, or it's as thin as paper? There's but a foot or three of space on either side of the bike, but you can tell a lot of time had been spent in there. I don't even think it was heated.  

Paul is a man of real patience. You can tell there are no shortcuts on his bikes. The pictures of the work in progress didn't come out, but here are some pics of his other ride which he told us was in equally shit shape when he got his hands on it: 

Gotta start somewhere.