This loving ode to Denver came about after Paul took possession of the original Freight Train built by Denver not long after the wild and whacky 1970s had come to a close. It was a bit worse for wear after sitting out and about for decades, but it was still all there and inspired Paul to build not a replica or a clone, but a modern chopper truly honoring the work of Mr. Mullins. And, what as piece of work it was and is, sort of a combo of a Swedish-style chopper meets a digger with a four-cylinder Honda CB750 providing the sound track. The CB engine was not really that unusual for either Paul or especially Denver to use although they both have built many a knockout bike with typical V-twin Harley power of different older vintages.
Paul has recreated Denver’s Freight Train in amazing spirit, but with his own little twists to make it his own. The original radical frame (an understatement if there ever was one) has been faithfully reproduced in all its I-beam-style and molded in tank glory. There was a ton of work involved, but if you really like or just appreciate what was sort of new old school at the time, you can’t help but treasure this treasure to days gone by. Paul’s version take sit to another level with a bit o’ extra pimpin’ on a bike that was pretty damn pimpin’ back when that word was more about style over substance as far as an everyday rider. No matter where you go on a bike like Freight Train, it’s show time!
One of the things Denver was really famous for besides turning out what seemed like thousands and thousands of CB750-powered chops was his springer front end. Beefy as hell with supposedly decent geometry (I’ve no experience with them, but that’s the word on the street), it stuck out and then stuck out some more until you had a bike with over 11-feet of total length. Blind stop signs were obviously not its forte as inching the bike up enough to see would put the front end somewhere towards the middle of the street. But style rules and so didn’t long and low choppers back when Ronald Reagan first took office. No surprise that Paul didn’t update that piece, but basically stayed tried and true to the original.
Where Paul noticeably injected himself into the build is showcased in that Honda mill of all things. Unlike the original Freight Train’s engine, this bodacious beauty hikes up some of the details like those crazy upturned-in-your-face gold velocity stacks which are one of the many, many gold engine parts and pieces. Yup, everything from various gold engine covers to finned gold tappet covers to gold header clamps to carb tops, float bowls, and clamps, etc. Can’t forget there’s also a lot more gold where that came from in the rear sprocket, brake backing plate, fork springs, headlight ring . . . Well you get the picture, there’s a ton of gold plating and some of you might say excessive, but looking back that’s how we view that time anyway. It was a period of excess and that’s how we liked it. In Paul’s case, excess is just excessively right as far as I’m concerned.
Besides the profile that is as absolutely about as outrageous as you can get in a chopper, what it’s covered in takes this baby to a whole new/old level and it’s something I’ve only really come to recently appreciate. Santino Moneau, better known as Sonny Boy of Sonny Boy Paint in Los Angeles did an over the top cover of Freight Train’s paintjob with layer after layer of paint evolving into the intricate work of art you see here. The lime gold base has red, orange, and blue blended panels covered in gold leaf and pinstripe graphics and says hello to the ‘70s better than any words ever could. The colors and the detailing is striking and involving at the same time. No Road King or whatever could ever wear it as honestly as Paul’s bike does without even trying. This is definitely one of those bikes you have to walk around until you’ve checked every square inch, but that’s only the start. You’ll walk around it again without realizing it just to make sure you saw what you saw and didn’t miss a detail. Then you might even back up a bit and walk around it again looking from a new perspective.
But the kicker just might be something other than the paint which doesn’t seem like that’s possible. Oh you know what it is, don’t you? Yup, it’s the seat of all things. This two-up fantasy in purple crushed velour is its own time capsule and not something you ever see anymore. Is that because it only looks right on the real thing? I wouldn’t know what to do with a purple crushed velour seat on my bike, but I can’t imagine anything other than that seat on Paul’s bike. Put a leather saddle on there and the whole bike would suffer.
I may be shooting myself in the foot, but there are tow pieces on this bike that I just might love more than the zaniness of the design or the paintjob, though, and I hope Paul doesn’t take issue with my silly choices. I absolutely adore the gas cap and the whimsical S-shaped headlight mounting bracket. The gas cap just has a life of its own going on seemingly in spite of the rest of the bike’s antics and the headlight bracket is an insanely simple, yet elegant solution to a normally mundane piece of kit. Me likey.
Yeah, I’m nuts about what Paul’s brought back to life so to speak. These time period chops were not my favorite back in the day, but I can’t get enough of what Paul Ponkow’s been up to lately. Here’s a link to a Barnett’s Magazine Online Bones Legacy feature we recently did on his similarly stunning period-type piece called Black Rainbow.
If you’d like to find out more yourself, hop on over to the Bones Legacy website http://www.boneslegacy.com/ or his Facebook page. He’ll probably kill me for saying it, but he’s one groovy guy in my book.