The Super-Vee • Not for the weak-kneed. by Jim Fedor. Growing up in the forties and fifties was not the worst thing that could happen to a guy. It wasn't the depression, but there didn't seem to be a lot of money floating around. With five kids in our family, Christmas time was not like it is today. I didn't realize that each kid was supposed to have a dozen gifts under the tree. I knew that I'd have one under there and I always prayed for some kind of toy. What I got, was usually something much more practical; so I grew up in a constant state of improvising. When I reached the age to own a bicycle, I knew that I had to start looking for bike parts. The search that ensued occupied most of my quality time. At about the age of eight, my only two concerns were: #1. getting a bike built; and #2. the fear of being bombed off the face of the earth. But not necessarily in that order. It took me a while but I managed to scrounge up enough parts to build a bike with no name. Of course I thought it was better than anything else out there. Needless to say, it was in a constant state of change! It provided me with transportation, exercise end entertainment, but most importantly, it gave me a sense of pride. In my childish mind. That bike started out as my biggest challenge, but afterwards it became the vehicle that I used to express myself. My bike was my identity! One day I saw a guy going down the street on a bike like mine except it had a motor on it. He looked like he was going sixty miles an hour. From that moment on my old friend--like Puff The Magic Dragon--saddly slipped away. So now the hunt was on. What is it and how do I get one? My older sister's boyfriend said: "That's one of them Whizzers. And a friend of mine has one in a million pieces that he does not want any more." No wonder, the thing was in a genuine bushel basket, and my head spun when I looked at all those pieces. Even the Schwinn bike that came with it was all apart. $10 was what he wanted (back then it wasn't a joke). I didn't have it, but I got it. I guess I was about thirteen at the time and it took me at least a year to get that thing to actually run. Much of my time at school was spent day-dreaming and when school was out I was home like a flash and my father's garage became my world. I was getting up in years now and I wasn't a funny guy or anything like that, but I hadn't noticed girls that much. When they started hanging around me I said "maybe I can learn to like them too." It didn't take me long to realize that I understood machines and things mechanical much better. The Whizzer was the only real love in my life; girls.... I would have to give this a lot of thought! Now that I'm married with kids and grand kids, I understand women completely... Sure I do! Machinery does what it was built to do. Nothing more, nothing less. If it fails, it's somebody else's fault. It's nothing personal, so don't kick it and don't get mad at it. What you have to do is put yourself in it's brake shoes. Is the oil-pressure gone? Well--you have to ask yourself--how would you like to eat a hard-boiled egg that's been rolled in sand? You see, you can "feel" its pain. Now I hope you are beginning to understand the kind of guy I am. I don't think that I'm average, but around the right group of guys, I'm perfectly normal. I'm a guy who doesn't like losing a battle of wits with a machine. I know for a fact that before the world was created, God knew that one day I was going to buy something called a Super-Vee kit bike. If I would survive this test of my metal, I would be allowed to spend the rest of my life living with the general population, instead of being locked up in a rubber room somewhere. Some of you are saying to yourselves: "Super-Vee, Super-Vee, where have I heard that name before?" Half Harley, half Chevy. Ninety-four cubes of America! Kinda'' looks like a Harley, but has a sound more like one of those iron-head Harleys that feed on nitro. If you own one of these machines and it runs, you are either one of the luckiest people in the known galaxy or you have the scars to prove you are a real vet, with enough war stories to keep every one on the edge of their seats. Once assembled correctly, these machines will strike terror into the heart of any Harley rider, whose brain is still functioning properly. And of course, all the girls within the sound of its exhaust are going to want a ride. The Super-Vee quietly came onto the scene about 1985 and its been pretty quiet ever since. For reasons that defy all understanding, the manufacturer--after ten years--is still stalled in the fast lane, unable to put the finishing touches on this promising engine. Too proud to ask for help from people who are out there doing battle and winning victories. If you've got one of these magnificent flying machines and have been unable to get it off the ground, there are people who care. Yes! there is help... There is a club! Super-Vee Owner/Builder a.k.a. S.O.B. Motorcycle Club Interested persons can contact: Jim Fedor 10555 Peck Road Mantua OH 44255 Tel: 216-274-8589 Article Database Index | MotorcycleShopper.com — Copyright —