In a way, Bettie Page was the 50’s, with her black hair, red lips and curves. Grant carried over that look with his beloved bike, a custom ’97 FLHT which he named Bettie, in her honor.

His search for Bettie took time. His dream was to find a Road King or some other FL model to customize. Longtime friend Sonny White, owner of River City Cycles had been on the lookout too. Three years passed when Grant received a call from Sonny, who told him he might have found “the” bike. Grant arrived at the shop to see a sad-looking, unloved theft recovery bike, imported from Ohio. “It had a slick back tire, I assume from numerous midnight burnouts. The whole bike had oxidized because of salt-covered roads. There were obscenities scrawled into the tank and hard bags, and the seat had been the victim of what appeared to be a wicked knife fight,” Grant said. It had been eons since the bike had seen a bath.

It was love at first sight. “When I stepped into the back of the shop that day, and saw the profile of the bike, I knew this was the one. It just looked like an old locomotive sitting there, begging for attention,” Grant said. He paid Sonny before he’d even heard the cycle run. In retrospect, he said it probably wasn’t the smartest move, but recalled, “I trusted my gut feeling. When we got the thing started, I thought to myself What have I done? It popped and backfired, and blew out more smoke than a Kiss concert.” After a few initial coughs and rattles though, the motor began to purr.

Grant spent over 40 hours scrubbing and scraping the oxidation off of the cylinders, cases and heads, using a toothbrush and a stick wrapped in sandpaper to clean them. Then, Sonny got busy with the rebuild, and he turned that old locomotive into a smooth running cycle. “Sonny does everything—from motors to changing tires,” said Grant. “The only thing he farms out is the paintwork.” Rod Stufflebeam of Rod’s Speed Shop took care of that, including the pinstripes and the scalloping. Dan Keys added the pretty little pin-up girl to the tank. Personalized touches that add to the bike’s look include dice, teardrop turn signals in the bags, and the shift linkage is an old hood ornament from a 1941 Pontiac Chieftain.

It all turned out better than Grant had imagined. “I like the way it looks like it’s going fast, even when it’s sitting still. It’s kind of streamlined,” he said.

The title to the bike showed 10,000 miles. “I figure that since it was stolen and there was no speedometer on it, there may have been as many as 20 to 30 thousand miles on it,” Grant said. Since restoring Bettie, he’s added over 25,000 more, including trips to Sturgis and the National Motorcycle Museum in Anamosa, Iowa. He travels with friends, a group of bikers known as the Black Widows, and they’ve also made four yearly pilgrimages to the ROT (Republic of Texas) Rally in Austin. Other than a circuit breaker issue, Bettie’s been a good girl throughout.

It’s obvious that Grant loves Bettie. “With all she’s been through I almost feel like she appreciates me saving her from the parts bins and getting cut up for something else.” With over 25,000 trouble-free miles and counting, it may just be true.