But it was his chopper that con?vinced me that my dad has some curious talent. I should have known that, with his mechanical back?ground, his most recent project?a chopper that favors a World War II fighter, the P-40 -- would be almost second nature to him. It's hard to recognize the Buell now. As my dad said, "The Buell was the perfect organ donor for bringing the new P-40 chopper to life." And he seemed to be the perfect "doctor" to make the operation a success. The bike itself is based on a custom-made frame that he heat-formed on wooden blocks bolted to a steel table top. He then jigged and laser aligned the tubes before he MIG welded them into the frame you see here. The Buell's Mono adjustable rear suspension offers three inches of travel. The Buell wheels were plated, then my dad machined the spacers, alulminum brackets and various other parts on a 17-inch Atlas lathe. Surprisingly, the bike's electrics proved to be the most challenging. Even so, he was not ready to sub anything out without trying it first. Paint?ing and airbrushing the bike was probably the easiest thing for him; my dad has 24 years experience in the field. I could clearly see that it was the fun part for him, too.

He also shaped the seat pan and foam for the one-off frame, and the air cleaner assembly was inspired by aircraft intakes. He formed them out of 16-gauge steel. The header pipes were formed from mandrel bends supplied by Hooker that feed into standard automotive muffler tubing. They were then hammered into shape to resemble a bank of exhausts on an Allison aircraft engine, minus eight cylinders. The strut-less rear fender was formed in the garage, although the front was purchased from Drag Specialties. The sprocket cover was shaped from 3/8"- thick aluminum that was welded to the original Buell bracket. The rest of the hardware? foot controls, fork assembly, handlebar, mirrors, signals, and lights? came from Drag Specialties, Ted's Cycle or Morins Motorsports. Riding the bike for the first time was by far the biggest reward. I had never ridden on a bike before, and when dad took me for a ride, cruising the streets of Sanford, I couldn't help but notice all the people looking at us. When we stopped for gas, a younger boy, probably around the age of sev?en, came up to my father and thought that he was one of the "chopper guys" from television. He stood there a while, blank faced, just asking my dad questions and looking at the bike. I don't think that kid could have been happier. That was the defining mo?ment for building the P-40 bike. Once again I had realized my father had done something rather extraordinary.

Air Warrior vs. Road Warrior