1955-1956 The Pisser

Burt had bought a 1952 Triumph Thunderbird that had been totaled. Not much more than junk, but to my mind a perfect candidate for my next stab at higher speeds at the drag strip in Great Bend, Kansas. I had just started a trash hauling business, and using the money I had earned, I bought the bike for $250. Burt was quite happy about that. And as I was working full time at my new business, for the first time I had more money than time.

I hired Burt to build a drag bike out of the bits, and in about two months he had completed the job.

Smaller, lighter forks, a spool front hub with a 2.25 18" Avon Speedmaster on a WM2 alloy rim. I don't know what the forks were off of, but they were a small telescopic unit. The engine was rebuilt with 12 1/2 to one Hepolite pistons, "Q" cams with flat tappets, Jaguar intake valves, and the ports were opened up to 1 1/8" to accept the 1 1/8" Amal carburetors that were set up on alcohol. An oil tank was manufactured, smaller than the original, a small pillion on a bobbed alloy rear fender. The rear sprung hub was discarded in favor of an alloy unit off a flat tracker. The primary cover was removed, and Burt made an alloy chain and clutch guard. Also hand made rear sets and clip ons.

Open drag pipes with megaphones furnished all the noise. The only part on the whole bike that I was involved in was the gas tank.

My dad worked part time at Bogue's Scrap Iron, here in Wichita, Kansas, and I often would stroll through the yard looking at all of the metal piled thirty and forty foot high, separated into piles of cast iron, brass, steel, and aluminum. While looking over the aluminum pile, I spotted what I thought was an aluminum gas tank. So at risk of life and limb, I climbed up that pile of aluminum and captured my soon to be fuel tank.

It was was a very nicely shaped, undented, bulkhead mounted urinal out of an airplane. All I had to do was to get my dad to weld a bottom in it, and make provisions for petcocks and a gas cap.

There was always comshaw going on at Boeing where he worked. One hand rubbing the other so to speak, so my gas tank was finished in a couple of days.

I didn't run the bike that much, probably took it to Great Bend maybe five or six times, but the old girl did crack 100 mph in the quarter mile on one occasion. I was pretty proud of that, even though I didn't build the bike. I called the bike "The Pisser".