The chopper evolved, paint jobs reflecting a life style, an expression of individuality. Ape hangers, in the face of the straight “citizen” whom they felt alienated from, strangers in the land they fought for, neither understanding the other (nor really wanting to). The straight citizen fearing and busting this new breed of motorcyclist, these “bikers“. These “bikers“ riding stripped down “choppers“ saying “Freak em out, give the citizens something to talk about“, wearing swastikas, iron crosses, skulls and so on. Treat us like the enemy, we’ll look like the enemy, push us and we’ll be the enemy. All the time riding their heart and soul on their sleeve; the chopper, not only fast but looking it, reserved for the select few, the righteous. Built from within, with all the pain of completion, sleeping it, dreaming it, living it, testing a thought in the real world of men and machines. Expressing your soul, art, yet functional, real, bare to the bone simple beauty, you. You can’t buy a chopper, you can only buy someone else’s. High speed machines designed by diehard bikers. That’s the purpose, riding fast and handling. The long front end? Did you know the first place this was done was the race track, for more favorable cornering characteristics! Ever ride one? Secure, like a train on a track, perfect for a biker riding a steady 90mph with his brothers, often half wasted. Why a Springer? Rake and trail can be controlled by the length of the “fishtails”, you can have that long steady handling wheel base and still turn like a 305 dream! Choppers don’t have to be Harleys, though a lot are, they’re you, what’s in your heart, head, your soul, an art form that works in the real world. A chopper don’t make the man, the man makes the chopper, and a chopper ain’t yours if you didn’t make it!