Since then that there is the only way to buy one that is makes sense. Walking into a brand shop means spending a very lot for something that will not last except you ride it like an "Angel"; Luzifer left aside.
That thing Is basically three parts. A frame made by too thin iron you'll have to exchange by an aluminium one, an engine and a in no way fitting gear box.
The two chambers each in the size of a Japanese four create so much torque that, given enough grip and an appropriate transmission, that thing could tow all just short of a F150 uphill.
Instead, the cockwheels of engine and gearbox are in mathematical no connection what so ever and nobody knows how that happened, meaning the original whereabouts of that gearbox remain a mystery for a lot of Whisky Cola in late BBQs at the garage.
Then, the name Knucklehead comes by the sound crated by honestly bad moving parts fittings resulting in two stroke levels of oil consumption shortly before death.
You need more than a wrench set making that bitch a proper mustang, like proper precision metal drilling and welding equipment.
But than, after having kicked out the forks, taken break discs in a reasonable diameter with matching pipes holding fine pressure, reassembled the all reworked engine and all new frame and adjusted cockwheels, only that stupid air intake needs to be changed to a supercharger pipe leading to about where the seat is and its fine.
Or you take an Intruder and a sweet paint job in remenissaance of an old Hippie Rocker Legend that kept steeling them back when you could kick em on everywhere and anytime...
Ah...the supercharger takes that battery place.
Men's bike.
#forSunnyleBerge
