Do you ever have one of those days where you wake up, realize you have nothing going on that day, and sort of just welcome the opportunity for everything to go sideways? I love that shit. It was spring in California, and I was getting ready to go back up north for work. Probably the beginning of April or so. I was killing time between working seasons, once again, and navigating the oft-associated boredom that came with that. I got up early, realized I had nothing to do that day, went into the bathroom and scrolled OfferUp while I took a dump, which is something I didn't necessarily do often (OfferUp, that is). But on that particular day, I felt compelled to look for something.
I had famously avoided owning Harleys my entire life, with little to no interest in the prospect, but as the years went on and I became more and more comfortable with making shit work, I started entertaining the notion of an Evo Sportster. I had learned a healthy respect for that particular engine, and thought it was the best thing the company had ever done. So over the course of a few years I'd been telling myself that if I found one under the right circumstances, I would take the plunge.
Well what do you know, a vague description and a single shitty photo "Sportster project bike" for $3000 flat, which at that time would have been a good price even for a stock 883.
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| This was the only photo in the listing |
Only it wasn't stock, and it wasn't an 883. It was hard to make out much from the nasty picture and short description, but I knew enough; it had a 2000 Buell Cyclone engine (!!!), a '95 hardtailed frame, a king-queen seat, a clean title, and killer paint. It was exactly the Sportster project that I had been waiting for, and I felt it. But I didn't allow myself to get my hopes up too fast, because a bike like that, for a price like that? Somebody had already bagged that shit. So sadly, I checked to see when it was posted...
18 minutes ago, that's when.
My eyes went wide and my bowels finished emptying real quick. I messaged the guy immediately, saying something to the effect of "I can come look at the bike now. I'm leaving. What's your address?" Thankfully, he actually replied. I got dressed and ate an orange like a squirrel on crack. I texted Brody and told him I was riding 45 minutes away and leaving immediately, no time for questions, he could come if he wanted. He did.
I split lanes like a crazy person ripping my way out to wherever it was, somewhere around La Habra I think, desperate to be the first person there. I'd gone through way too many sour Craigslist failures at this point, I knew what was up. I wasn't snoozing on another one.
And it's a good thing, because the guy told me he got 5-10 messages right after mine. He was a really friendly and down-to-earth person that I felt immediately comfortable with. His name was Merari. He wheeled the Sportster out into his long driveway and let me crawl all over it and answered every question I had, which admittedly weren't a lot since a) the build was so stripped down and transparent that there wasn't much to hide, and b) I had no clue what I was looking at.
He said he'd been riding it as recently as a week prior, but it stopped starting so he put it up on the lift, started diagnosing it, but found another project instead (a killer Shovel you can see in the above photo) and promptly lost interest. He thought it was a carb issue.
The bike had a lot going for it. It had a Sully's seat, a Super E carb, a Dynatek 2000i ignition, and a kickass setup for a juice brake inside the frame loop. Really trick shit for 3 grand! And most of all, the frame was a REALLY well done hardtail on a stock Harley frame, done by Slim's Fab Farm in Yucaipa CA, who was an acquaintance of mine from the Bixby Moto days. Slim and I wouldn't really become friends until a bit later, but I knew his work well enough that I considered him to be one of the best fabricators on the planet. Having one of his frames increased the value of this bike for me immensely. Slim's Fab
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| a photo of me and Slim in 2024 |
The motor was an evil bastard. Cyclone M2 with Hammer Performance heads and cams and a long ass list of all sorts of go-fast parts. It was a hopper that had been built to lay rubber. He had built it up only recently and it had very few miles on it. He said it had been running perfectly a week ago until the carb issue, and I had no reason to not believe him.
So as you can see, the value was off the charts, and the investment was relative. Turns out, the only reason he was selling this really impressive package for only 3 grand is because that was what he'd bought his new Shovelhead project for. And since he'd got such a deal on that, he just wanted to even-Steven it. Real hippie shit. I grok that.
I told the guy I wanted 5 minutes to think about it, and he couldn't have been more chill. We took a walk back to the Rebel and Triumph. Brody is pretty good at keeping his cool in prospective situations, so he was appropriately tight-lipped as I interviewed the bike on the driveway, but the second we were out of earshot he could barely keep it in his pants. I was still on the fence about the hotrod engine thing (I wanted something "reliable"), but I asked him in my simpleton way if he was in my situation, would he buy the bike? And I'll never forget the conviction in his response as he barely let me finish the question before saying "absoLUTEly I would, I wouldn't even think about it, all that shit for 3 grand? It would be home already." I guess that was the validation I needed.
I was on the Rebel, so picking it up would have to happen another day. But I gave Merari $500 cash as a deposit, because I wasn't about to let some Craigslist drama happen after coming this far. He didn't want anything to do with the deposit, and promised me the bike wouldn't move until I called him, but I wasn't about to take even a 5% chance at this point. So I insisted that he took the Benjamins and physically put them in his hand. He put the stack in the middle drawer of his toolchest right in front of me and said that's where it was going to be until I decided for good, and if I backed out, no shade, the money wasn't going anywhere. The dude really was a nice cat. But I told him I was coming back for the bike, and that wasn't a question.
I could barely keep it together the next week until our schedules lined up again. I hadn't been that excited about picking up a new bike since probably the KZ750. I went over to Regina's for a couple days to dogsit and watch movies and I kept opening my phone to look at the 2 shitty photos I'd taken of it on the driveway. Started thinking about new ideas for sissy bars and front ends. Our schedules finally lined up, so I cruised out to Merari's on a really hot afternoon. I had my Chevy with me that season getting a new transmission, so we used to it get the bike, which seemed appropriate.
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How it looked the day I picked it up. Brody and I were over the moon this day, we couldn't stop laughing on the drive back. |
Like always, I tried to take some detailed "before" pictures before laying hands on anything. Here is a wraparound of the bike before my grimy grabbers could touch it (which wouldn't last long).
The PO had a vision. He had talked about how his plan was to get a smaller front wheel and reverse forks. With the slammed front and the juicebox motor, the intention was very clearly to create a racebike. I always felt sort of bad about basically destroying that vision. But then again, I kind of like the idea of having a souped-up rocket in an unbalanced bathtub chassis with no front brake. Something crackhead about the idea. Guess it appeals to my "sleeper" mentality. I should take this bitch to a drag race some day...
Here's some more miscellaneous details:
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| This keyless ignition bank was Merari's last mod before giving up the bike. I get what he was going for, but it wasn't for me. |
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| An expensive bonus! |
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| Maybe my least favorite taillight to exist |
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| Oldschool ChopCult sticker, from back when the board was actually good |
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| Cool headlight mount! I thought this was custom, but found out later it was a production part somebody makes. |
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| Standout paint. It was beat up and needed a clearcoat, but it would survive. |
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| I'm not sure if there was an intended benefit to this breather setup. And I didn't care |
The sissy bar was the coolest part, which I am assuming was a Slim creation. I later ended up selling this on eBay, I wonder if I'll ever see it on somebody's bike. Here's some detail photos from when I sold it.
It took me a surprisingly long time to figure out the "lockout" switches he had wired for a keyless ignition, but eventually, I did. I got the bike to turn over (which scared the shit outta me the first time - this high compression engine shook the floor when it spun), but it wouldn't fire. It was getting spark and fuel. Merari had said it was a carb issue. But it didn't seem like it to me. I wondered if it had anything to do with the Dynatek ignition, so I started there. Brody came over to look at it with me, and we figured out pretty quickly that the timing had drifted off. So we figured out how to set it from scratch (neither of us had ever worked an electronic Harley ignition before) and had the bike running decently well within an hour. Not bad for two metric dudes. I rode it that day for the first time, and I put on my crash helmet and other gear. This hopper engine, coupled in this shaky, janky bike, had me scared.
After taking it for a ride and knowing that it worked, I shut it down again and started the process of cleaning it up. Believe it or not, the first thing I actually did on this bike was rewire it from scratch. A pretty big undertaking for a guy that had never had one of these bikes before, but I was anxious to learn, and I had it done in a couple of days. My head was in the right space for it, so it was actually a pretty fun chapter.
I threw out some other shit too, like the breather hose whatever-the-hell thing swapped for some Etsy breather bolts. I made my own coil bracket by chopping up the stock upper engine mount and gusseting it (this was the first part I welded on this bike!). I dressed it up with some new cloth spark wires. I also added a keyed ignition underneath the seat, which I loved.
I made a new battery box, since the one already on it was inexplicably janky. I welded some threaded bosses onto a box of 1/8" steel and drilled speed holes all over it in designs. Rough, but cool. It wouldn't stick around into the final build, but it was a fun project to becoming a better fabricator.
I ditched the VW air cleaner for a $10 NOS Harley pancake filter, made a temporary frisco mount from an old horsehoe, and a couple of other little things. It wasn't a lot, but I did manage to clean up the bike way more to my liking, and at least get a better baseline for wherever I eventually wanted to go with it. Not a ton of photos of this time, since I didn't feel like there was much to document.
Then, I worked on taking the bike in a new direction...
I'd been impatiently waiting to chuck out the slammed front end and plug it into the Dick Allen springer that I'd had laying around for a few years. Brody helped me fabricate a new top mount for this fork, and I haphazardly attached it to a set of Zombie Performance custom rabbits. I mocked it up with a spare Hallcraft wire wheel and a random K70 tire that I'd bought on Craigslist like 11 years before. I sloppily dropped a couple of metric sealed bearings into the Hallcraft, which were loose as hell and rattled around, and only stayed in the wheel at all because that hub happened to have circlips in it! I made my own hub spacer out of shit I found at the hardware store, definitely not to spec. The front axle came from something else and was too short for those forks, so the cap nuts were only threaded halfway on and were not locked in any way - it was sketchy AF. This setup was definitely, definitely, DEFINITELY the most crackhead shit I've ever done on a bike. But this was only ever intended to be a mockup. I really just wanted to get a feel for it so I could decide what to do with it down the road, or if I was barking up the wrong tree. I only rode it like this once, but that was enough. The pictures were legendary.
^^^ That day was my last time setting eyes on the bike for a long time. Shortly after that, I spent a couple of years away from it to gently collect my thoughts...
The story that eventually ended up coming true was an odd one. As my intentions of creating a true long chopper became more and more clear, I realized I had to commit to the idea in a more devoted way. I'll talk about this long story in another post, but the bottom line is, I ended up ordering a custom raked Paughco frame, and the Sportster project ended up being split in half. The long bike became something else entirely, and from this point on in the writing, that project will no longer be mentioned in this post, since it'll have its own (see: "Norma"). The short bike came with me back up north in 2025, and eventually became "Shayla".
What ended up happening was, I found an 883 motor for $600, realized that my new Paughcho frame had its own title, had a Jimmy Neutron moment and realized there was nothing stopping me from just having two Sportsters. So almost as soon as I'd taken it down I decided to build the original bike back up again. It's crazy to think that I actually considered selling the Slim frame at one point. Hell nah. So glad I decided to keep that shit.
I took a caretaking job in rural Idaho in the winter of 2025/26, so I took advantage (or rather, the universe provided what was needed) of the time, space, and freedom to build this bike without any restriction or distraction. So around Halloween I drove my pickup out to California, went to a swap meet, bought some parts from Rob, picked up a Motone taillight from BA Moto, and loaded up the pieces to put the Buell back together, as well as a stack of tools, my welder, and a few boxes of whatever miscellaneous chopper parts I thought would be good to have on hand. Then I drove north into the winter with a new project waiting for me.
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| Going thru my headlight collection looking for candidates. |
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| The journey home. This was a more anxious roadtrip than usual, since every time I looked in the mirror, I was jonesing to start tearing into this project. |
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| Made it. Still pretty proud of this Tetris job |
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| The engine is in the cardboard box |
Quick note: be prepared for more photos than usual on this one. Since this is the only build that I have done post-creation of this blog, I had a much better sense of exactly how I wanted to document and reference the steps in this one. Pix bout to get heavy up in this bitch.
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| The "kit" moved into the artist's studio |
I was really excited to have a full-time project again, so I didn't waste any time getting crazy. The day after I landed at the new place, I immediately spread out in the shop, and in order to keep myself well focused, I started the process with the hardest and most regrettable job on the docket - removing the factory gussets. The way I work, I have to get the worst tasks done first in everything I do, then I unwind with the fun stuff after, it's just how I am.
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| Say goodbye forever bitch |
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banana peel nightmare      |
I had the job done in a single evening, although I spent a lot of time afterward cleaning up the remnants. This is a nasty job.
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| Welding in the areas I fkd up |
I had to weld up a bunch of spots where I dug too deep, and then more welding in some other spots too. There were a lot of holes in this frame for some reason, I guess the PO got trigger happy trying to mount shit. So I filled them all up. The bigger ones have bits of nails and stripped bolts in them, others are just pure weld.
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| Cutoff bits of bolts added some fill for the bigger holes |
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| voila... |
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| holes holes endless holes in this frame...shit took all day |
I also removed all the unwanted tabs, wire guides, and other shit to get this frame as slim as possible, no pun intended.
After finalizing all the work removing the factory gussets, I worked on doing some auxiliary gussets of my own. I had to do it in parts while I was waiting for a pipe sander in the mail, so I started by adding onto the existing neck brace with some handy isosceles action.
The rest would have to wait until I could properly sand the area, so I tossed around some ideas in the background while I moved on to something else.
The sissy bar was the 2nd biggest job, so I did that next, or started on it, anyway. Besides, I would need to get that done in order to move on to anything else, since I needed to get the wheel and fender locked down based upon whatever I ended up with.
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| first move on the sissy, let's see what happens |
As I was making my first welds on the first half of the sissy bar, my Titty Bar Pullbacks from Zombie Performance showed up on the UPS truck. So I took the opportunity to throw together a quick mockup to make sure my vision was still on the right track:
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| In retrospect, I'm so glad I didn't keep these bars |
The sissy bar came together on its own. I had drawn up about a dozen different designs of what I thought I wanted to do, but as these things usually go, it sort of had to just float together in the moment, and that philosophy carried over with most of the rest of the bike.
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| Some of my early drawings. None of these really ended up coming to fruition on this bike, but would carry over to "Norma". |
What I ended up with was basically an "odd ball" design with some "cathedral" angles and lines thrown in. Truth be told, I was never the biggest fan of just how narrow that queen seat was, so I think this was my attempt to sort of bulk up the area around it and give the illusion of a little more mass back there.
Step 1: figure out a way to mount to the seat
Step 2: make a sissy bar around it
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| Hey, I don't hate it! |
The whole thing turned out very angular, which started to solidify the eventual design philosophy on the bike, including changing the handlebars. I would still have to add several finishing touches, but the shape of it was done, at least.
As fate would have it, the small town I moved to that year had a resident metal supplier. All the metal I used for everything I fabbed in this build was less than $50. He mostly sold stuff in large quantities to professional welders and fencers and stuff, so he always gave me kind of a puppy-dog look whenever I would go in and spend like $11 on bullshit. But I'd rather support a guy and his wife than some hardware corpo chain, even if it barely amounts to anything. His wife was from Wyoming, so we always had good conversation.
Since the tank had originally been mounted lower, I made these Frisco mounts using an old horsehoe. I have no way of remembering who this came from, but I like to think it was one of Scoot's.
Some 5/16 allthread and acorn nuts for a heavy and symmetrical look. The slick spacer in the middle is something Brody had made back in the day, thanks to him for that.
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| Good luck from "Little Brother" (maybe) |
When I was certain I had the tank mounts where they needed to be, I drilled the holes larger to accommodate this tiny steel pipe, then shoved it through and welded it solid. This didn't turn out nearly as well as it did in my head. Maybe someone else will take the idea and do a better job with it.
This part of the build was frustrating as hell, because the pipe sander I'd ordered wouldn't show up until 2 weeks after it was supposed to, so I couldn't do a lot of what I wanted to despite being on the edge of a flow state. But, I got my money back for it, so when it did get here, I hadn't spent a dime on a good tool, which is pretty neat.
After finally getting my [free] pipe sander, I could get the frame more uniform and looking kickass before finishing the other pieces of my gusset. I had a few ideas on this part, some pretty flamboyant, but I felt it out and decided that simple was best. As it goes, I think the decision to do this square, flat gusset actually sort of conceived the design philosophy of the bike that would soon follow. It was the first decision I made that started the whole "geometric" idea.
There was an existing hole at the neck that I wanted to use for my headlight wires, so I thought it would be cool to dress it up with an angled/coped piece of the same pipe for a more custom look. I forgot to take a photo of this at the time apparently, so here is a much later photo of it:
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| Spoilers! Ignore the paint! |
One thing I forgot to mention was the front wheel. The bent 21" wire that came with the bike was donated and gone long ago, so it was pretty early on in the process that I had to decide on a new one. What I settled on was an aluminum mag with a hell of a distinctive look which would lend a lot of influence to the overall sway of the bike.
It's from a BMW K75/K100. The Bimmers ran large dual discs up front so these wheels were effectively invisible stock, but they look great naked.
As far as I know, I'm the only person to run one of these wheels brakeless on a Harley chopper. I really hope that posting this information here doesn't mean it will become a trend and turn me into a bitter hipster. But that gamble is dependent on more than 4 people actually reading this post, which is unlikely.
Next big decision to make was tires. I struggled with that for a while, but after starting to warm up to this "angular" idea, it got easier. I had gone all over the map thinking about what type of rubber to put on this one, thinking of motard, implement, those Coker military truck things, even considering going Dark Side at one point. But as some of these nasty, teeth-like angles started to come out, the whole soul of the bike seemed a lot more manic and chaotic, and suddenly the answer was obvious.
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| Duro HF904 |
I spent $200 on these tires. Days after I mounted them, I found an identical set, in the exact same sizes, front and back, for $50 for the pair, in person about an hour away from me. I don't know if I can stress enough how unlikely it is to find these very unusual and difficult-to-find tires, IN THE EXACT SIZES I NEEDED FRONT AND BACK, for $50 and less than an hour away in rural Idaho. Eventually, I ended up picking them up just to have another set for when I would wear these ones out. But I would have rather saved the $200 at the time. World is weird, man.
I also got these spacers made up for the BMW wheel, to cover the ugly holes for the brakes and hardware. I took some measurements, did some playing around, and sent Brody a drawing asking if he could put it in CAD for me to give to SendCutSend. After carding and buffing them with oil - and letting them oxidize a bit - they matched the German part like they were made for it.
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| Some oversized mating bolts trimmed to the perfect length made for a solid installation. Snug AF |
After mounting the tires (and bending my rim doing it like a dumbass), it was time to fit the fender, since I couldn't work on the sissy bar any more until I made sure that happened.
I ended up moving the original fender back about 3 inches to give myself a little more real estate on the back end, since I had an idea that I wanted to put that Motone taillight on there, plus I wanted to see more of that good paint. I used Slim's original mounts on the front, which was great.
For the back mounts, I had to get more creative. Again, I learned that simple was best. I had a handful of pretty amusing ideas here, but ultimately decided a straight threaded barb into the bottom of the sissy was the best option. Turns out, sloppy fender mounts are kind of a pet peeve of mine. I wanted the whole assembly to look like it was one piece, and after putting these mounts on, it was. These are threaded, so all I had to do was drill two new holes in the fender and attach it from underneath with screws. Done.
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| Welding together spare coupler nuts to create extended ones. Use what you got |
Then it was just a matter of deciding the clearance and position of the fender and committing to it. I used every trick in the book for this part. Hose, rope, chain, hose again. I didn't take a lot of photos of this process, probably because I was so frustrated during most of it. It didn't help that the fender was warped also. So eventually, I had to step back from thinking it was going to be 100%, and I got it "perfect enough".
Getting the proper angles with the seat and sissy took some doing, and I actually had to reprofile the seat in order to get what I wanted. I stressed about that for a while, trying to think of a way to get leverage to bend the seat pan, making a jig, using weights, a bench, etc. and then finally realizing I could get what I needed in about 30 seconds bending it over my knee...
Finally convinced that the bar was sitting where it needed to, it was time to figure out the taillight. I made this mount, which was way more of a PITA to get right than the photos probably suggest.
I probably could have done better, but screw it, it's an invisible part.
Now let's try to get it perfect enough again...
I also added these narrower accent pieces inside the sissy bar, which I really liked.
Now that I had the light and fender mounts, it was time to put the finishing touches on the sissy bar, finishing all the welds, and then starting the very long and involved process of cleaning it up. One word: carbide bits.
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| This is a later photo, but shows some of the finishing in the corners |
While I was still riding that fabrication high and thinking of things to add to the bike, I had another idea...
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| Astute viewers will already guess what this is... |
When these downtube fins went on and I instantly fell in love with them, I decided I wanted more. So, I got inspired to keep going...
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| When I was a kid, I loved cars with shark fins. There's probably no relation |
With all the recent work done, it was time for the first mockup with all the key elements in place: sissy bar, sharkfins, tank mount, handlebars, fork shrouds, new tires and the BMW wheel. This was an exciting moment for me to see if all the scatterbrained ideas were going to work out the way they did in my head. Great news: it totally did.
You can see how impatient I was to take this photo; I hadn't even finished beading the tire onto the front wheel yet. When it got difficult, I just threw the spoons down and put the bike together because it was close enough to look at.
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| Definitely wanted more pullback |
The mockup served its purpose well, since I learned about a lot of things and changes I still needed. Namely, realizing that I wanted higher bars with a couple inches more pullback, which is exactly what I ordered from Steffan. These ones went up for sale.
So with a clear plan in mind I broke everything down naked again and started prepping the frame for paint. First order, I had to weld on those fins. Those were definitely the longest beads I'd ever done at that point, and you know something, they didn't turn out half bad.
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This is a photo from much later, but you get the idea
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This part of the build was really fun for me because I could actively feel myself going over that threshold of just absolutely not giving a shit. Cleaning up the gussets on the neck, the bike still had the potential to be pretty conservative; but that went out the window with the introduction of this permanent bodywork. I think every build has that moment where the bike sort of defines itself around one major decision, and that decision, for right or wrong, dictates everything that comes after. I was apprehensive about these fins for a long time, flip-flopping back and forth, taping them on, taking them off, etc. etc. But during a nice sunset one evening I said "f*** it, what else am I ever gonna do anything like this on?" and I committed. Halfway through that first 20-inch long bead I knew these things were never coming off and there was no going back, and you know what? It felt amazing. I think that was the moment I really started loving this bike. It was like this big creative release that just gave me permission to go batshit on anything I wanted; suddenly, nothing was out of the question anymore, and the bike just started building itself.
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| Welding on the fins |
Case in point, while getting the fins done, I kept going and randomly decided to put this weird thing in the space left over beneath the neck gussets. Don't ask me why, I just thought it should be there.
Everything on the frame was finally kosher, so with my handy pipe sander and some rubbing alcohol, I got the frame looking very, very smooth, and then laid on some thick paint.
This is Rustoleum High Performance Enamel, which has showed up in one form or another on every bike I've ever done, including the entire paint scheme on Roxy the VN1500.
At first, I heavily considered doing a primer gray color. But I decided against it because I realized it wouldn't give enough definition against the tumbled aluminum cases and wheels, which would leave the lines of the frame unseen, whereas white would give the needed contrast.
You want to know how I came to this conclusion? In GTA V.
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| Testing out a hypothesis, and I wasn't proven wrong. |
So white it was. The paint went on thick to try to cover up and smooth out any mishaps. It mostly did a really good job at that, except for one spot on the back left side of the neck, which was just gonna be ugly AF no matter how I spun it. Whatever, it's a hand-built bike and it's cool if people can see that.
This headlight hat got cut down underneath and modified to accept a 1.5in. trophy topper of a pig. Another cool idea that didn't make it onto the finished bike. I love Sportster hats, but I think I decided they work best on wide bars. When skinny and tall is the game, the hood emphasizes that in all the wrong ways, and it was too much mass in the wrong place, especially with a small headlight. But you'll see it show up in some photos below since it took me a while to think about it.
After the paint was cured, I got the engine propped up just right and snicked the frame into place without a scratch, only to realize that I had the wrong bag of parts. All my engine mount hardware was for the Paughco frame, and I'd left the OEM stuff back in California. So now comes another exercise in patience as I order a bunch of fasteners online during the holiday season and wait around with my thumb up my ass staring at a bike that was lying sideways on the floor that I can't move or touch. Why does it always happen right as the flow state begins?
The down time gave me some leeway to do two things; finalize the details on the sissy bar, and start on a headlight mount. The sissy bar started to clean up really nicely as soon as I got a new set of dremel bits. I should have invested in some carbide bits much sooner. I really like them, and I was actually amazed at how well they work. These are not like other bits. Read the instructions on the box, they're important.
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| I'd had these since 2020 or so |
I'd been wondering what I was going to use these unusual headlights on for a long time; once I started putting the geometry of this bike together, it wasn't even a question. Square and round at the same time; just like this entire bike.
However, I wouldn't be able to decide if I wanted to run one or both lights until I tried it both ways, so I made two separate mounts.
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| I got these really nice 5/16" mount tabs from Bung King |
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| I even cannibalized this billet headlight mount, which makes the below even more frustrating. |
Long story short, I spent WAY too much time making an only-marginally successful double mount. And when I tried it for the first mockup, it took me 2.5 seconds before I said out loud "hate that" and threw it in the corner never to be seen again. This idea looked great in my head, but I just loathed it in person.
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| fkn stupid is what it is |
But part of the "point" of this bike was feeling out every option. Leaving no stone unturned, and never having to wonder about some alternative unexplored. When you're an indecisive idiot, it pays to be thorough.
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| 3/4 strap welded into a 3/4 tab is a start... |
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| x2... |
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| make sure they're even... |
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| "The Best Parts I Make Are The Ones Nobody Can See", Chapter 2 |
Unlike the first attempt, I was really proud of how this one turned out, and I think the headlight looked great to boot.
As yet another alternative, I did come up with a setup for a round headlight that I thought worked pretty well. I got this Per-Lux 200 light mostly as a novelty because it's the same one I use on my pickup brushbar. Turns out, it fit pretty well with the hat and trophy topper. I didn't take the mockup this far at the time, but the idea was to put a small rectangular reverse light (make note for later) underneath the headlight to fill the dead space. It would have been a good look, but ultimately it didn't win out, and the subconscious took command as "Freudian Slip" built itself...
While I was waiting for my new bolts to show up, I threw some SprayMax 2K over the survivor tins. I'm a freak about gasoline and UV damage taking away a good paint job. These were appropriately beat up already, so I didn't really think I needed to do too much else other than bury them as deep as I could in hardened clear and walk away. Orange peel and drip, that's cool, this ain't never gonna be a show bike.
I also shaved the fork lowers. I cannot, under any circumstances, recommend doing this without a pipe sander. If you have a pipe sander, it's a 1 hour job. Otherwise, literally impossible. I flip-flopped on whether or not to paint the lowers white, but eventually decided it would have been too much, so I scotchbrited them down so they would match the wheel and engine.
With my new fasteners arrived, I finished getting the motor into the frame and started to build it up again. I was really pumped about how the white looked with the shark fins. This was also the first time I plugged in the new 5-bend bars I had made by Steffan at Zombie Performance, and unlike the first set, I immediately felt these ones captured a whole vibe I wanted for this bike 100%. They fit my body perfectly too. I was never giving these ones up.
Around this same time, I got a new rear wheel from eBay. This is a CCI spun aluminum 16". I wasn't sure I liked this at first, but I thought about it for a week or two and really, really warmed up to it. Sort of like the shark fins, I had to just realize that there was nothing wrong with going a little zany. Asking for measurements from the seller was next to useless, so I took a major gamble on whether or not it would fit when it showed up. I won.
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Looking back now, I can't imagine a wheel that could better match this build. |
Unfortunately, the seller, for some reason, thought it was advisable to send the wheel sans any packaging whatsoever, wrapped in plastic wrap and sent by USPS. Let me say that again, this very valuable, rare, vintage, soft aluminum wheel that I just spent a lot of money on, got shipped with a layer of food wrapping and left completely to the mercy of federal postal workers.
Shock of the century, it showed up damaged as hell.
This was an unused, uninstalled, NOS wheel. Was.
On the bright side, it all worked out. The damage was only on the outer lip of the rim, not the shape of the wheel at all. I typed up a really nasty, snarky-ass message calling out the seller, but I didn't feel right about it, it was Christmas, so at the last minute I deleted it and scaled it down to be a lot more polite. I asked for $90 back, to "cover the repairs" (which in reality was going to be me, a butane torch, a rubber mallet and 15 minutes), but to my utter disbelief the seller refunded me $125. So that worked out good in my book. As fkng outraged as I was, I really curbed the anger and chose kindness instead, and that energy was rewarded. Just a lesson for me to remember.
Grips ended up being one of the most indecisive parts on this bike, for some reason. I thought these AMF inspired grips from LowBrow would be a cool late-70s look which fit with the geometric, flowing, sci-fi aesthetic I was going for. Totally rad grips, but I didn't use them.
I had hoped the brick red color would add a little bit of pop to the duo-chromatic bike, but somehow, it seemed like too much. And the really stout thickness of them, also something I specifically thought I would like, also didn't gel. The whole thing felt kind of toy-like, like a kid's scooter or something. Much like the double headlight, the idea I had so clearly in my head for so long made me gag before I'd even finished installing. I only had them on the bike long enough to take this photo before immediately yanking them off. Terrible idea.
Let's try these black Throttle Addiction ones instead. Much better...
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| Twisted the pattern to give it a little bit of flair to match the rear wheel |
These looked way better, but unfortunately, I had a feeling the compound of these grips - which reminded me of a pencil eraser - wouldn't last long, just like my previous set from TA. But these were $4, so I'd give them a shot. We'll take bets if they make it to the end of this post.
A new throttle cable, in a much more appropriate length, got a speedway cable wrap, one of my favorite touches to do on all of my bikes. I rather like how the routing worked out on this one, threading the gap under the frisco mount and keeping the line inside the bars. Skinny or bust.
The throttle is a trash part from Amazon, but I wanted something aluminum to match the other parts on the bike. I stripped off all the black paint and half-polished it. Didn't get any pictures of this, but you can see the difference in the two photos above.
Finally tackled the crusty old oil tank that came with this bike. I don't know why I put it off so long, since it actually cleaned up really nice. I am assuming this is one of Slim's tanks, but never confirmed.
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Painting happens in the living room when it's snowing outside |
I cut out this steel backing plate to ride the gap between the seat back and the sissy bar. I figured it would add some rigidity to the bar, but more importantly, it would look clean AF with matching paint.
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perfectly centered hole impossible challenge  |
Took a lot of finesse work, but eventually, I got it Perfect Enough™.
Stepping back to look at my finished sissy bar I realized that maybe it deserved better than my typical zip-tie treatment. I thought it would be kind of cool to do a hard mount that stood off the bar a little bit, like it was floating. I ordered a license plate backer from Bung King, which as far as I could find, is the only place that does one in plain steel and not chrome, aluminum or stainless. Yes I could have made this very easily from scratch, but the way I look at it, if I'm paying $12 to not have to center four holes in 1/8" steel, I'll make that deal. I made two little standoffs out of strap and welded the whole shebang right onto the sissy bar. I even got fancy with some license plate jewels. Which is something my jank ass never thought I would be saying, but they were a fun excuse to be fruity.
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Also, finally decided how to seal the tops on the sissy bar. Was never quite sure how I wanted to finish this, so I saw someone do this in an old magazine and figured, good enough:
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| I saw this in an old issue of Street Chopper. Am I a real builder yet |
This upper engine mount was the first thing I ever welded up for this bike, one of the few things I did to it immediately after buying, when I was still just learning to weld. I still really liked this part, so it was time to clean it up and bring it into the 21st century.
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| Let's chop off those extra corners and clean everything up flush |
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| That's better... |
I had decided to not use the Sportster hat with the trophy topper, but I still wasn't quite sure if I wanted to run the shaved down top clamp or not. I found this strange little trim piece that fit on the hood mounts. Is this an obscure part? Maybe I never paid attention, but I don't think I'd ever seen one of these until I found this one.
Chrome plated which sucks, so I sanded the hell out of it and wire brushed it to try to get an aluminum look, although the color still isn't right. Close enough.
I managed to remember how to rewire everything with the harness I'd made a few years prior, but in so doing, realized I could have made a major improvement with the way I did the primary loom, so as soon as I got it hooked up again I'd already decided to start it over. But, I got the taillight finished with some new connectors and a nice ground, so that was cool.
It was only December, the bike started seriously coming together and those creative fires were not being put out any time soon. So I started looking for more shit to make.
The used front end that I got from Rob had a headlight mount hole already drilled into the bottom clamp. Which would have been awesome, if I hadn't decided to do something else with the light. So what to do about this hole? Well, I had this weird idea to make a plug with a ring mount underneath so I could hang some coup feathers or other good luck crap above the wheel. So originally, I was thinking a 3/8" eye bolt, like just the basic wire style you get at the hardware store. I found a black oxide one which would have been just fine. But then...
I was in Fruitland one day and was looking for pipe clamps (see below), and randomly passed by this little mom-and-pop "Fastener Store". I almost drove right past it, but I got this weird feeling, so I flipped a u-turn and went inside. There was a really nice young guy that was running the place, real talkative and helpful. I could tell that he'd taken over the family business and I always like seeing that passion. He didn't have the part I needed. But as I was standing there talking to him, my eyes drift to this rack he has of random old NOS shit for trucks and stuff, just useless dusty old crap that had probably been in the window for 30 years. And I see this...
These are loading strap mounting points for the stake slots on a truck bed. I've seen and used these before, but the newer style ones aren't shaped like this, they're thick and round at the bottom, and usually one-piece. These ones had an odd shape and break-down construction, and wouldn't you know it, they were on 3/8" studs. So got an idea. And for $8, I'd be crazy not to see if it had any merit.
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| These were built on 3/8" studs, which can't be a coincidence... |
Well, one angle grinder cut later, and my 8 buck gamble paid off.
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| Contour fit perfectly in the lip underneath the tree. The fit was so good, I was able to tighten it down like this with no other tools. |
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| A fat washer and acorn nut filled the top space nicely |
I was pretty happy with that one!
While I was waiting for some new wheel bearings, I looked for spots that could use more details, and thought, hell one of those little plexi windscreens could be a fun touch for this set of bars. Did a quick search and realized I could get a colored sheet for $15 from this place in Salt Lake, so figured even if I ended up hating it [likely] it would still be a fun thing to make just for shits.
Cut out a shape with a dremel, drill a couple holes, sand some edges, and done. After dicking with so much hardened steel lately, some acrylic was mighty refreshing to work with.
Some nice leftover bolts and a couple of pipe clamps and voila.
I couldn't make up my mind up if I loved it or not, but that was the point since I could take it off and on in about 16 seconds. I would have to swap it on and off for a while.
I spent way too much time modifying this old-style curved lever to get it to work with the Sportster clutch cable, and then immediately realized it wasn't right for the bike:
So I decided to go for this Ironhead style one instead. I cut it down shorter and added some Ricky Racer speedholes.
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The back wheel took some doing, but nothing too bad. Upgraded to sealed bearings, which of course left a ton of extra space left over from the timkens, so I had to do all new spacers. I got pretty creative with this. The spacer on one side of the wheel is an undersized extra bearing, as well as a random chrome spacer somebody left me from another bike (Rob?). On the left side, I cut down one of the original front wheel spacers roughly in half and made a really thin one to shim the new position of the brake. For how much "eyeballing" was involved in this, I did a lot better than I thought I would.
While I was at it, I decided to cut the chain shorter. This had been a debate for a long time. When I got this bike originally, I took a note that there was no axle adjustment left on it. You can kind of see that in the photos at the top of this page. I assumed this was from a gnarly stretched chain from a guy that liked to race, but turned out, it was actually a seemingly new chain.
When I fitted up the rear fender and sissy bar during the rebuild, I took the practice of using the middle of adjustment for my baseline. Taking two links out of the current chain put me right about perfect for that, but upon reassembling everything "for real", it turned out that it was on the short side underneath the fender, and was rubbing the mounting bolts. I needed about another 1/4" of clearance.
So another "happy accident" occurred, in which I moved down to a 48 tooth sprocket. At first, this was purely to get a little more clearance, but as it turned out, not only did I like how it rode better, but I also found a sprocket that better matched the look of the bike.
It also matched this hoss-ass Ferodo Baggins brake rotor that I found. I got this because I liked all the dead space to show off as much of the wheel as possible (the geometric shape was a bonus). I've never seen one of these on a Sportster before. Not that I necessarily pay a ton of attention to what rotors dudes are running I guess.
As I was buttoning everything up, I decided to tidy the axle by cutting it to be flush with the cap nut and drilling it for a new cotter pin. I used the remains of one of the old timkens as the outside spacer, which is unironically now one of my favorite things on the bike.
After hawing it over for a very long time, I did eventually decide to cut down the cam cover. I felt sort of guilty about doing this, since I actually really love the stock Sportster cases and knew I was mostly tempted just because all the cool kids did it and after coming this far with everything else I'd done, it would be "expected" of me (I can see it now; "Wow, I really would have thought you'd trim those cases. Too much work?" says some NewBalance wearing mf'er standing on the grass). So I admit, this was partially peer pressure that did this. But in the end I liked what I came up with. Just a small notch on the top, a sliver off the bottom, and a sharp angle on the sprocket cover. Really close to the OEM cases, but enough that you can tell they've been messed with, so assholes needn't comment. Plus, the geometric lines add to the theme of the bike.
Just a note for anyone that lands on this page and was meant to see this. When removing the cam cover, it's in your best interest to take off the rocker covers to remove pressure off the pushrods. Else your cams will potentially get fkd. Like, you CAN just yank the cover off and PROBABLY be fine, but unless it's a total junk motor, maybe don't risk it. I had heard this thru the grapevine, but on further review there was actually surprisingly little info about it online and literally nobody that does "tutorials" on cam covers has mentioned this. I am posting below a helpful article on sportsterpedia as well as a breakdown video from Hammer performance. Maybe this will be useful to somebody reading, since this info is evidently not as common as I thought.
Sportsterpedia Article on how to remove cam cover safely
Hammer Performance video on top end disassembly (6 min mark)
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| the rear cut is totally unnoticeable with the pipes on, because of course it is |
These exhausts came from a trade. I gave Brody the weird (Paughco?) 2-into-1 that came on this bike when I bought it, in exchange for a set of open headers with downturn tips that were welded by Sam at Beetle. I don't usually do wraps, but this time seemed like it was appropriate. Still didn't want any chrome on this bike, and having some more organic texture was nice.
Collect your bets, because the Throttle Addiction grips didn't last long. Even after a few weeks of just moving the bike around in the garage, they were already gumming up and I hated it. So after pouring over my old chopper photos, it occurred to me that what I really wanted were these NOS 70's Waffle grips, which I had just recently bought for the Savage. So I swapped them off, put a spare set of jackhammers on the Suzuki instead and both bikes were way happier. These ones were staying.
My acquaintances Tyler and Timmy at Martian Machine in KS threw out a huge amount of new shit for their "12 Days of Christmas" and unloaded some unbelievably cool points covers as part of it. I was almost dead set on their Waylon Jennings logo, but I waited all 12 days, and I'm glad I did, because on the last day I saw this one and it wasn't even a question.
70's geometric design cues? Yes please! I actually collect these granny candy dishes/ashtrays in person (I have like 20 of them), so once I saw this, it was a shoe-in. I requested to have it in raw finish, since they usually polish all their stuff. They hooked me up. I really love these guys and they are a ton of fun in person. Go check out their site. Martian Machine
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| I also love the way that this cover unintentionally matches the brake almost like a toothed gear. This is one of my favorite parts |
I had noticed a while back that my jiffy stand had a big bend in the tab, which made me nervous that it wasn't locking up as positively as it could.
When I had the bike up on the jack one night I finally decided to try and fix it. Only problem was, I didn't have a vice at this place. Not a single one.
So what does a man do that needs leverage and doesn't have a vice?
He gets creative...
The Yankee headlight that I had fallen in love with was chromed, which bothered me a little, and it was flaking off, which bothered me a lot. I figured out at some point that it was aluminum underneath, and once I realized that, I couldn't let go of the idea of having it raw. So I took it to a local sandblaster (which took some shopping, since not everybody has the confidence to blast aluminum) and had him do his best to strip it down. He did great! Unfortunately, the chrome pitting had gone deep enough to pockmark the bucket. But it could be worse. I sanded and polished it to get a nice look to match the fork and engine. I didn't take enough pictures of this.
I found a supplier of new PAR36 bulbs in a lower profile and that actually came in amber from the factory, so I swapped for one of those and re-taped it with some thinner stuff. It was a better look.
Something about the front wheel was still bugging me. I wanted the BMW rim to look like as little of an afterthought as possible. And I realized that, swapped wheel or not, I never really liked the idea of seeing exposed bearings on a build. I like them to be hidden behind hubs or other hardware. So I got this idea to create a machined tapered cover from the wide hub to the fork lowers. I took some detailed measurements, drew up a picture, and taught myself TinkerCAD. Then, while I was visiting my friend Lane around New Year's, I asked him to 3D print me a prototype.
Then, when I was satisfied that the prototype was exactly what I wanted, I got them machined. My 2004 brain thought finding a local machinist to turn these for me on a lathe would be easy, but apparently in this day and age it's next to impossible. Unfortunately, I had to outsource to China, and even more unfortunately, our dumbass leader's tariffs made me pay double to do it. But, the end product was good. Cry once.
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| These are 3d printed sintered aluminum, which matches the mag wheel perfectly |
One of the earliest mods I'd done in the days after buying the bike from Merari was adding this Rolling Rock cap onto the choke knob, which was a maddeningly good fit.
When I was drinking, this was something I did on all of my bikes as a motif, usually a local favorite from where I was living at the time. But since this particular carb setup presented the choke so cleanly as part of the whole center of the bike (and because I'd stopped drinking), I thought I could do something a little more artistic. I found this set of tiny refrigerator magnets with scorpions in resin. I decided the red one would match the fuel line and bring a little variety into the palette instead of so much blue. Very 70s, and it matches the shift knobs in my pickup truck.
Pretty late in the build, I decided to switch footpegs to these guys. I had been having some real trouble deciding on pegs for a long time. I'd used the stock rubbers for a while, then some blue transparent custom ones (which were really cool, but a little too flashy) and some turned steel ones from Japan. Eventually, these ones spoke to me. These are stock from another HD, not sure which model. They are a bit narrower and stouter, and have a really generous cushion. But what really caught my eye about them is the 45deg angle at the end to match the angles on the bike. Plus I think the little scrape peg is kind of cool!
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| I also upgraded (downgraded?) back to a rubber toe shift |
Interestingly, the battery box was the last big part I fabricated on the bike, which wasn't intentional. I just kept putting it off until the end for some reason. Which definitely worked out the way it was supposed to in the end, because if I'd made the box earlier in the build, I don't think I would have come up with something this satisfying. I don't really know where the idea for this came from, I just got in a flow state and it happened.
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| Welding threaded bosses inside a larger pipe to make it a bit stouter. |
If it wasn't obvious already, the fins were borrowed from the frame, and the shutters came from the headlight mount. It was actually pretty appropriate doing it this late in, since building the battery box felt like a nice little recap to tie together all the design cues on the bike and bring them home.
I don't know why I didn't feel like building this sooner, but I'm glad I took the time to feel it out, because this far along, the project had enough of an identity that coming up with something was effortless. It pays to go at your own pace.
I made the design choice to seal the battery on all sides, necessitating removal of the entire thing to take the battery out. I do not generally enjoy seeing batteries on bikes, they're not exactly my favorite parts to stare at. So I would rather spend the extra minute removing the two bolts, and have something that looks intentional and permanent.
As a truly extraneous final touch, I decided to make this random cover for the ass end of the starter motor. At first, I thought about trying to adapt one of the OEM covers the Ironheads use, but then I was like, what am I doing, I can make something better from scratch...so I found this sink drain strainer that had a remarkably on-point look.
I bent up a little tab with some drilled holes to attach to the screws on the starter body, and then welded yet another coupling nut on to make a stud that was the right length, and that bitch just threads on with a nice finishing washer.
By now I had fully warmed up to the idea of the plexiglass screen, so I decided to make it permanent.
I don't see these tinted flyscreens a lot, but they do show up on occasion. And one thing I will say is that every one I've seen has felt like an afterthought. They are always put on with clamps or by some other external means that breaks up the flow of the parts and looks like it was tacked on. This was something that had bugged me for a long time. So I put a lot of brain power into coming up with a way to integrate the acrylic onto the build that looked like it belonged. Eventually, this is what I came up with.
Despite being far from my best welds, I was really happy with how this came out. However, it came at a bit of a risk, since I really should have done a test ride first to make sure this little thing wouldn't cause any buffeting issues. I guess I like living on the edge.
Because plexiglass is cheap, I made this alternate orange version, which cracked because the holes were too close together. It was cool, but I didn't like it enough to ever redo it. A little too flamboyant for the rest of the build. The blue one was subtle, which I liked.
Pinstriping was one of the last major touches to bring the Sportster's vision to completion. I brought it in the house in order to do this, because I'm a single adult male that does what I want. And because I wanted to watch Star Trek in my pajamas while I worked.
I am not a good brush painter. Getting the lines I wanted was a trial. At first, I tried using this neat Masters Pinstriping Tool. This was NOS from the 70s and was something I had found and held on to. This works on the same principle as the Beugeler striping tool, but isn't outlandishly expensive because I'm not a fucking hipster that needs to spend $189 to draw a straight line.
My attempt with the tool didn't work out. The tool itself worked pretty good, but I had two issues: 1) it worked best with gravity, which made the inverted angles problematic, and 2) My hand still wasn't steady enough and I got wavy lines.
So I scrubbed everything off with WD40 and tried again. Eventually what I ended up with was using vinyl tape to mask my perfect lines and peeling it off while it was still wet. I don't know why I didn't just start with that.
The lines aren't perfect on close inspection, but they are Perfect Enough.
Sticker bombing was also something that happened during this step.
Reader, you must be seeing all this shit and thinking to yourself, dang, this SOB must be close to wrapping this shit. Was the pinstriping the final touch on this bike? Could it be?
NO!
Because I'm an indecisive idiot that realized at the last fkng second that he wanted to make the front end longer.
I flew out for Chopperfest for a weekend that year and while I was there I got it in my head that a 6" rise on this bike would seal the look. I really wanted it, bad. But I thought I couldn't do it because my fork shrouds would be too short. A sad realization.
But then I thought, hell I've fabricated so much weirdly specific shit on this bike already, why stop now?
So another few days of measuring, cutting, extending, welding, sanding, painting etc...nothing to it!
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| This was how much longer I needed to go with the 5" lift. |
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| Much like the fork lowers, do NOT try this without a pipe sander! |
And behold, possibly the only (?) set of extended long-guy LowBrow shrouds in existence:
So now I had the stance I actually wanted, without the compromises...
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| I didn't like the machined look of the fork extensions, so I epoxied these spare saddle conchos in place to cover them. |
Satisfied by the stance change, I thought that was about it for the Sportster.
But there was one more thing I ended up doing. The final touch on this bike came to me, appropriately, in a deep dream. I had picked up this strange little Wipac reverse light for $5 at an antique store and had it in one of my boxes of extra parts. Originally, I was considering using it as a double with the Perlux headlight. But that idea didn't follow through, so I buried this little light and forgot about it...
...until a totally random-ass dream told me that it belonged on the little space below the rectifier. You know, that flat spot with the hole in it that all Sportsters have. It was an extremely clear and concise dream. Weirdly, I didn't remember it until well into the next day, when something triggered it and I had a eureka moment. Thank God I eventually remembered, because now this is one of my favorite parts of the bike.
I made a simple mounting plate and tried it out. This light was a literal perfect fit inside that random space. It even had a polished aluminum frame...couldn't have matched better. This was definitely a vision that came to me from God or an ancestor or somebody that wanted to give me a hint to finishing this project.
I tinted the lens amber and put some electrical tape over the glass to try and tie it in with the headlight.
I stepped back and looked. I loved it. And it came from a dream. So there it was.
And THAT, boys and girls, WAS the last thing on the bike...
Coming up with a name for this bike was tougher than some, partly due to it's very fluidly changing nature throughout the build, but mostly because this bike had such a spastic personality that was hard to pin down. But time and meditation revealed the answer as always. Runner up names were numerous, and included Brenda, Loretta, and Bridget. I was definitely leaning towards that "trailer park waitress with a heart of gold" energy.
"Shayla" is what I ended up with, and it was one of those names that once it rung, it stuck. And it landed hard. The more I thought and meditated on it, the more sense it made, not only for the personality and "face" of the bike, but other reasons too. Maybe it's silly to put too much into it, but the Indian in me can't help but attach omen meanings to these types of things. So here's a list.
- In Arizona, I worked with a Navajo girl named Shae, which I *think* was short for Shayla, and I liked her and wanted to remember her. She eventually went to be an NPS ranger.
- Shayla sounds like a perfect twin sister name with Norma, which I'd already decided to call the Paughco 883.
- It reminded me of the name Kayla, which was the name of my best ex-girlfriend. She was a really good person who always treated me so well, and I liked thinking back on her. We still talk.
- Last and definitely most importantly, possibly my favorite Blondie song, which absolutely fit the dreamy, blue tone of this bike. This immediately became the theme song for the bike every time I opened the shop door.
In the spirit of the old chopper mags, I wanted a good nickname for the entire project, and I landed on "Freudian Slip". Why? Because this bike happened by accident, built itself out of my subconscious, and was something that I didn't know I wanted.
It was the middle of February that I considered it finished. The whole bike ended up being one of my shortest build times ever, which is funny, considering how far out of left field it was for me at the time. Sometimes, they just seem to build themselves.
Like all the posts on this blog, this will be updated organically if needed. But at this moment in time, I can't really imagine any big changes. This bike shaped itself out of a very clearly defined soul and with a very headstrong personality.
I think she's happy with who she is.
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