I was certain I’d be riding my old 79 ironhead. That’s what the El Diablo Run is all about… cool old choppers and shit running down through the baja, a bunch of crazy guys partying on the beach in San Felipe having a great time.
I wake up at the crack of dawn and pour myself into the cage and haul ass to the D to pick up my chopper. The trip started going downhill rapidly. I realized somewhere in Indiana that I didn’t have keys for the trailer. Shit. Oh well, I can cut the lock…I get to Detroit and find there are no keys for the chopper, either. Awesome. So I cut the lock off that bitch, and with my handy-dandy cutting wheel, I head to get the trailer. I pull into the lot where it was stored and guess what? It’s GONE. Like, stolen, gone. Son of a… thieving SOB’s took my trailer.
After some obligatory cursing, phone calls, and careful consideration, I decided that the trip to Detroit was a total loss. Defeated, I headed back to the Windy City without my bike.
After much deliberation, I decided to call the Dyna into action, but 
some things were going to need to be done to get the ol’ girl EDR ready. It’s bad enough to be doing the run on a modern production twin-cam bike, so it sure as shit wasn’t going to be on one with a big ass riot shield and huge saddle bags. The bike had to be toughened up, and some maintenance was overdue.
First thing was the headlight. I’ve had enough of replacing these anemic little things, so I upgraded to a Hogworkz Daymaker-style LED. After struggling with that miserable little nut on the lens ring for about twenty minutes, the install and adjustment was painless from that point.
Next was dealing with the wind management. I don’t know why, but that Dyna has always had a really bizarre wind pattern. Riding it without a shield at highway speed is a bitch, even with a full face helmet. With any other helmet, it’s impossible. The wind just comes up and tries to rip my head off via the lip of the lid, and it just makes it impossible. Yeah, I know…I could ditch the lid, but not in the People’s Republic of Kalifornia.
After exhaustive research, I settled on the Memphis Shades Gauntlet Fairing, which seemed to offer the best balance of sport styling and functional wind protection. Complete with their proprietary quick
release trigger lock system, the whole deal was under $400, and it installed in about 45 minutes, including getting it “just right” with the new headlight. A quick rip trip down the highway confirmed that the wind was now totally manageable, and nothing fell off, so that was a success.
Two main issues still to be addressed: well-worn factory suspension, and a fading clutch. Apparently, the increased torque and HP of my little upgrade projects were too much for the factory friction, so I made a call to the good folks at Barnett, and decided to order one of their fancy-pants Scorpion clutches. I had previously used Progressive Suspension with good results, so I decided to go that route for the shocks.
It all seemed like it was going to come together. Parts were identified and sourced, workspace secured, time allocated. Unfortunately, the dudes with the brown trucks decided they weren’t going to deliver my parts. Yeah, they’re awesome. I’m not going to go into it, because, frankly, they’re just infuriating. Ever have those conversations where you know someone is just straight up full of shit, and you feel dumber for having had them? Yeah, that.
Good news is my Spidey-sense is still strong. I had a feeling that they were going to cause me a problem, so I had made a preemptive strike and picked up a Screamin’ Eagle diaphragm spring when I was grabbing some ancillary parts at the dealer. I thought if I got in a pinch, I’d just install that on the stock clutch pack, but the thought of that clutch letting loose somewhere in the Baja and having to have some awkward conversations with the local banditos had me running to the dealership to pick up a new set of kevlar disks and steel plates to go along with that spring.
Swapping the clutch in a Harley is a pretty easy, but messy job. I guess on the older bikes you could do it through the derby cover, 
but not any more. You have to drain the primary and pull the cover, which also means a new primary gasket. But once that’s off, it’s six bolts and then just pulling out the plates and putting in the new ones. Torque spec everything back together, adjust the clutch lever, filler ‘er up with fresh juice, and you’re good to go.
It’s always a little disconcerting to me when I fire up a bike after I’ve had it apart. See, I’m really not a good mechanic. Nor am I particularly knowledgable. I’m basically mechanically retarded. So, I’m always afraid of my shit blowing up or falling apart or imploding in some way after I’ve opened the pandora’s box. I think Tony at MotoGuild thought the same thing, so he pushed my bike off the lift and out into the street for its post-op testing. I turned on the ignition and the familiar whine of the fuel pump let me know that at least that much was still working. A firm press of the start button brought the engine to life. All good so far. No screaming, no grinding gears…But now the moment of truth. I pulled in the clutch lever, much firmer now courtesy of the SE spring, and as I firmly held the front brake, I hit the shifter to drop the bike to first. The click/clunk of the 6 speed trans was familiar and reassuring. I slowly let the brake go….no creep. I gingerly let out the clutch lever, and the bike crept forward. All good signs.
With these preliminary indications positive, I decided there’s no time like the present. If she was gonna break, I wanted her to break right there in front of MotoGuild, not on the desolate desert highway. So I let her have it…First, second, third….three thousand, four thousand, five thousand…Giddy up. She pulled like a freight train. Mission accomplished!!
It can’t all be about practicality, though. Final touches to tie her all together…I found a hand-made 28” sissy bar so I could strap down all my gear for the trip and lose the bags. And finally, the one last piece of factory lighting…the blinkers/running lights…now they’re smoked out and looking good, thanks to the suggestion of my man KB.
In the fading light of a Sunday night, I idled the bike up into a South Side driveway, ready to be loaded into the trailer for the long haul to Temecula. I’ll see her in a few days.