Great Machines: The Chop Shop
June 2, 2004
Denver’s Choppers
A chopper is at once an exercise in minimalism
and a statement of individuality. Less is more—sort of. Choppers achieve a
pared-down look essentially free from superfluous ornament but are also adorned
with personal touches that make a bike unmistakably individual. The first
choppers were built in the days of social misfits, one-percenters, and
hedonistic heathens passionate about their personal mode of transportation; they
chose to rebel against the mass-produced assembly line factory bikes. A
chopper’s radical dimensions had more to do with looking cool than with
extracting maximum performance. Riders were willing to risk hazardous handling
repercussions as they stretched, chopped, and otherwise modified their bikes.
They yearned for personalization, and extending a bike’s front end became
something of a competition—the longer and more extreme the better. Size did
matter.
In the 1960s, Denver Mullins founded Denver’s Choppers, and the
industry still recognizes this larger-than-life figure as the master of long
bikes. With his longtime associate and best friend Mondo Porras, Mullins
perfected the “no-flop” steering design. (Before this innovation, a chopper’s
heavy front end had a tendency to “flop” the tire to one side or the other,
often sending a rider airborne.) Mullins passed away in a 1992 boating accident,
but Porras continues to build choppers with the same dedication to perfection
that elevated Mullins to his legendary status. ; function voidFunc() { } voidFunc();)
Mullins built this vintage
chopper in 1970, and Porras oversaw its restoration in 1998. The bike
exemplifies what a chopper’s rider wanted in the late ’60s and early ’70s. A
classic Springer front end features twisted steel fashioned by hand; the frame
possesses 43 degrees of rake, and hours were spent molding and sculpting the
metal. A jockey shifter, otherwise known as a “suicide shifter,” was mandatory
for a true chopper and demanded respect—a rider’s inattention could prove fatal.
A small peanut tank, handmade upswept pipes, a skinny 18-inch back tire, and a
hand-tailored steel sissy bar were statements of style along with a complexion
of road grime acquired in the absence of a front fender. Handlebars were free of
clutter, and the chopper’s owner eschewed a front brake, ignoring safety
concerns for the sake of a clean, cool look. The 1962 Panhead fires on its first
kick; this chopper is a daily rider that was meant to be ridden—and ridden hard. (Click image to enlarge)
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