A tale of two bikes | Local News | Summerville Journal Scene

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A tale of two bikes

Published Tuesday, August 24, 2010 1:27 PM

By Jim Tatum
Summerville Journal Scene ®

photo provided by Nightmare Custom Cycles

Pirate’s Promise, a one-off custom street pro, was an especially intricate project and probably Nightmare’s personal favorite, he says.

photo provided by Nightmare Custom Cycles

photo by Judy Watts

Dreamcatcher, another custom bike from Nightmare's shop.

Beauty

In any artist’s life, there is one work, one opus magnum that truly defines his muse.

For Nightmare, it was a bike called “Pirate’s Promise.”

In 2008, Nightmare Custom Cycles was invited to build a bike for an charity event then called “Hogs on the High Seas,” a fund raiser for kidney dialysis.

The event is a Carribean cruise and one of the highlights is a charity poker tournament, the winner of which receives the grand prize – in this case, a very high-end, one-off custom street pro motorcycle.

What that means is that virtually every part on the bike had to be made by hand, which Nightmare and his crew did in the shop in Harleyville.

Because there were major sponsors funding this particular project, Nightmare was able to add some amazing touches to the bike that, in ovation to the cruise and the nautical theme – would become “Pirates Promise.”

“Look at the seat,” Nightmare said. “Miriam did that – it was made from a block of teakwood.”

The blower, also made of teak, was done in the shape of a treasure chest and actually contained real jewels for the giveaway, he said.

Other intricacies also abounded. They painted the gas tank to look like an old nautical map of the Carolina coastline and the artists’ and sponsors’ names were incorporated into the design – Nightmare Island, Avon Beach, for example.

The turn signals and rear view mirrors, shaped like Jolly Roger flags were wired so that the skull and crossbones lit up when the rider activated them – and the skull eyes were real rubies that lit up as well.

“A little piece of me went with that bike,” he said. “It was really something else.”

Beast

Then there are projects that are, well, not so good.

“That one would have to be Billy Bike,” Nightmare said. “I’m going to tell you this story, and you take it how you want to, but I swear I’m not making it up.”

It wasn’t that Billy Bike was challenging; Billy Bike was impossible, Nightmare said.

What happened, Nightmare said, was that a woman brought the bike in to be repaired. It was a Harley Davidson that had been owned by her brother, Billy, who loved to work on bikes and was still putting this one back into shape when he died.

“She had a Harley and he had always wanted one,” Nightmare said. “They had planned to ride together on their Harleys but he died before they had the chance.

In homage to him, the family had him cremated and some of his ashes placed in the headlight and taillight of his beloved bike.

Eventually, it wound up in Nightmare’s shop.

“What happened was that every time we’d do something on that bike, it would inexplicably go wrong,” Nightmare said. “We’d do a tune up and the next day it would be leaking oil – in places where it shouldn’t have been. We’d take it for a test drive and it would be fine, and the family would come get it and it wouldn’t start.”

The bike would be in and out of the shop for more than a year – and it wasn’t like the family lived around the corner; they lived more than 100 miles away, he said.

One beautiful cloudless, summer day one of Nightmare’s technicians had taken the bike for a test drive after yet another visit to the shop during which they found nothing wrong, Nightmare said. A few minutes later, his cell phone rang.

“Man, you got to come get us,” said the startled technician. “We’re broke down over at Highway 78 and Orangeburg Road and it’s raining cats and dogs here.”

When Nightmare got there, he said, he immediately noticed that the only spot it was raining – and it was raining hard – was in a small area surrounding Billy Bike and the technician.

“I saw this happen. We all got wet getting that bike up on the trailer,” Nightmare said. “It didn’t rain anywhere else but right there.”

Nightmare finally came to a conclusion. Apparently, some part of Billy was still here and since he had so loved motorcycles, he must be really enjoying hanging out at the shop, being around all the bikes, and watching all the work they were doing.

In short, the bike didn’t need a mechanic -- it needed an exorcist, he finally decided.

“I loaded that bike up, drove it all the way back to the house where Billy had lived and died, wheeled that bike into his garage, and said, ‘Billy, I’ve had enough. You’re no longer welcome. You’re not allowed to hang out in my shop anymore.”

And yes, the bike ran perfectly ever after, he said.

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