Gilby’s Street Dept. is a balls-out custom shop owned by Todd Gilbertson (I’m guessing that’s where the Gilby part of the company name came from or maybe it was his dad) and ace mechanic Matt Anderson. I don’t know if it’s the long, cold Wisconsin winters that led to a complicatedly-cool “What if . . .” build like this or not, but these two have got it going on. The zero-degree-outside, mid-winter brainstorming sessions over a hot cup of coffee would have been interesting to be a fly on the wall on as these two hashed out where this build was going. Unfortunately there is probably not a fly alive within a few hundred miles of River Falls in January so we’ll never know. But, the end result of those sessions speaks for itself from front to back and in every nook and cranny.

   The nutty crazy part about this bike as I see it is the crazy engine. That is by no means a slight in any way, but, look, there’s a supercharger occupying its own space ahead of the 80-inch Harley Evo engine. And it’s not some bolt-on piece from a well known company like ProCharger or something, but a very vintage Shorrock supercharger from England of all places. These “universal” units were used on Eisenhower-era MGs, Triumphs (cars not bikes), and other European cars that had engines not much bigger than an Evo so the fitment makes sense in a crazy cooped-up winter way. Plus it’s nutty cool to have something this rare and running on a bike or even a car. In true ‘60s sports car style, it’s fed by a dual-throat, side-draft Weber carb that’s shinier than any other Weber I’ve ever seen.

    Getting all this engine confabulation to actually work in harmony with each other and running right had to take the lads mind off the cold weather for sure. I’m assuming they didn’t get directions with this adaptation. Check out the crazy belt setup driven off the crank forward to the supercharger’s long nose adapter so the vanes can stuff the engine’s cylinders full of additional fuel mixture over its normally aspirated brethren. Oh did I mention it just looks too cool for school (except Old School) hanging out in the breeze? Well it does.

   And then there’s the ‘60s signature exhaust that looks like some kind of chrome-tube plant that grew on its own wherever it damn felt like on the bike. Throw in the extra “header” pipe that actually delivers the force-fed fuel to the split-intake manifold and there’s a shiny tube for every occasion on the move to somewhere. The deliciously-curved exhaust stays (they’re too elegant to be called brackets and too beautifully complicated to be hangers) are a product of caffeine-induced inspiration and long hours if I had to guess which I am. Taking liberties is what this bike is all about so why shouldn’t I join in? I have no idea what the super-long inlet track or the long crossover (but in an entirely different way) pipes do for performance, but they sure add to the cool factor.

    The side profile of this bike is killer with a purposeful chopper long and low stance. The rigid frame sets the tone and the built-in bad boy attitude while the springer makes sure you get the point. It’s all built-in with not an on-board air compressor in sight. There’s no dropping it down, it’s made to look good at rest or at speed. Throw in a brakeless Invader in chrome wearing a classic Avon Speedmaster up front. It’s mirrored by another Invader out back but this one has a drum brake and dual thin-stripe whitewall tire (possibly a Shinko?) that defies you to guess when this combo might’ve first hit the road. Or does Gilby’s have some secret treasure trove of NOS chopper stuff that they’re un-boxing as needed? I have no idea as I just had my own “What if . . .?” moment, but I hope it’s true. Strange things happen in Wisconsin I’m told.

    I’m also a bit unsure whether the gorgeous tank was cut and dished or built inside out. Probably cut and dished with a bunch of sculpting, but I did have a friend back in the day who just welded sheet steel out from a tank topped with a large dollop of Bondo to make it bigger in size, but not capacity. Hey, he only cared about the look and capacity was none of his business. Either way the tank’s a gem and I doubt there’s any Bondo involved, but the oil tank with its nutty-loo filler catches my eye even more for some reason. It really looks the period piece, well, at least to my eyes which can’t say they’ve paid much attention to oil tanks back then. Now they appreciate things like that simple, but charming oil tank.

    Gilby’s choice of a rear fender was probably modified from a real trailer fender like in the old days and it looks the biz just sitting there. It does what it’s supposed to do while providing somewhere to keep the button-tufted suede leather seat from sliding back too far when the supercharged engine clears its throat. Suede might not be the most practical of materials for a seat that might see some bad weather, but that’s just the way choppers were built then. If it was cool and different, it went on the bike regardless of whether it made sense. Besides, making sense was boring.

    Who doesn’t like the paint? Okay, maybe it’s not something that would work on your Road Glide or whatever, but it sure the hell works on Gilby’s chopper. Matter of fact, I’d declare it perfect if anyone’s listening. There are just layers and layers of different colors and techniques with exceptional Old School graphics tying an intricate paintjob together as a lovely piece of Old School art. Matt may be the ace mechanic, but Todd’s the virtuoso with the spray gun. Thinking about how many hours must be in the paint alone gives me a headache. Plus what’s the drying time in winter or do you have to wait for spring to paint? I have no idea as I’ve lived in El Paso all my life. Anyway, that’s all beside the point, the paint looks fabulous no matter where you look including the top of the fins on the cylinder head. Nooks and crannies.

   Obviously I love looking at this piece of vintage-inspired motorcycle art with a fondness for the nutty-cool and crazy-cool stuff that came from guys who worked with their hands and not a CNC machine. There’s something going on here in Gilby’s chopper involving just a bit more than pure nostalgia and that’s an appreciation of really doing it like they used to do it. Todd Gilbertson and Matt Anderson have taken up the “old ways” a serious notch or two with not only their imagination and appreciation of vintage choppers, but their high-quality execution. Give me nutty cool and nutty crazy in one bike and I’ll be a happy old fool dreaming about when I was a happy young fool.

   For more info on what Todd and Matt at Gilby’s Street Dept. are up to visit http://www.gilbys.scope10mobile.com/ or check them out on Facebook.