There are a few magical places that take you back in time and make you wonder about the history of the place. The Shed, deep in the Piney Woods of East Texas, is one of those magical places with a vibe that is hard to imagine unless you’ve had the pleasure of experiencing it for yourself. This place was believed to be the home to a Satanic group back in the early days, stories and folk tales chilled the minds of young and old alike.

“I built this bike in honor of my father, who absolutely loved Jimi Hendrix, so the bike was named Purple Haze.” – Jason Ochoa

If you’re thinking “this guy looks familiar” you are right. We featured Jason Ochoa’s Knuckle “Satan’s End” back in Issue 1. While chatting with him a few months ago, we got to talking about all the killer builds coming out Texas. I asked Jason to have all these guys send me pics of their bikes. One-by-one, the Texan choppers started filling my inbox.

Texas has as a whole has a hell of a lot to offer. They have had ZZ Top, Roky Erickson, Stevie Ray Vaughan, and some of the best damn BBQ you’ll ever taste. Texas also has some mighty fine artists such as Lee Bullock. His work is a wash of color and has a style second to none. Lee is a man of taste and a true talent.

Lee has recently been concentrating on larger paintings and concentrating on everything from original Knucklehead and Panheads, to custom choppers in all their glory. Lee has also been known to paint such legends as Clint Eastwood, Dolly Parton and Willie Nelson. Choppers Magazine just had to do an interview on this great talent in its first-ever all-Texas issue.

During a normal summer, there is nothing that would convince me to ride to the coast of North Carolina for a campout. Between the unbearably high humidity and the swarms of bloodthirsty mosquitoes, it can be downright miserable just stepping outside to get the mail. Of course after being quarantined for a few months, the idea of riding anywhere sounded pretty good, so that’s how I found myself riding down the highway on my ’ol panhead beside Greg DeHoot on his shovelhead chopper (see issue 3).

All things considered, the ride down to Trenton for the third annual Backroad BBQ Run started out really well. We got an early start, so the temperature was nice and cool, the skies were clear and there was hardly any traffic. About an hour into the ride, my bike realized it was 2020 and remembered that things were supposed to suck, so while I was running 60 miles an hour down the road, the backend started sliding around like a snake on hot sand. I managed to get her stopped in the middle of the highway only to discover a completely flat rear tire. Thanks 2020. 

And now, a few words from Foster Eberhart.

This is my hog. There are probably a few out there like it, but this one is mine. This bike starts out where my Shovelhead left off. I have this thing where once I get attached to a machine, I'll never sell it in one piece. Don’t like the idea of some joker out there riding my scooter like it’s his or something. So, parted out they get.  That way, each piece goes to help a brother out there build his own idea of a cool chopper.

This is Justin Haynie and his 1950 FL. Justin lives in Denton, Texas. It’s a town where the chopper scene is pretty slept on, but with so many here who are into these old bikes, it was easy for Justin to get inspired and have the urge to build one himself. Being an old BMXer and flat tracker, the transition was bound to happen.  Here is what Justin had to say about his beloved 1950 Harley-Davidson chopper.

It started like many, a pile of parts in the corner of my garage that took what seemed to be years to acquire. I scored the bottom end out of Killeen, Texas, on a shady Craigslist deal that worked out for the best. My good friend and extremely talented machinist/builder, Jerimiah Jurgeson of Conflict Machine, helped me get the frame. I stole the transmission off another pile that I already had. Now that I had the bones and heart, I decided I wanted it to breathe the 1960s.