So Bob decided to pack up and move up to Redding area with his massive collection of bikes scattered around multiple properties. He picked all these up for free or very cheap. VERY hard to get any of these bikes nowadays for what he paid. There are more bikes, we're talking hundreds, than he'll ever know what to do with, but that's what happens when you're a collector. They are stashed in every nook and cranny on his properties. He sees them mostly as art; when he's done, if they don't run, he doesn't care, he just puts it aside and starts the next one. Some have wooden gas tanks. Some of the cars have fake carburetors. And he is too afraid to ride any of them. That's right, he doesn't even ride. The man is a pure, eccentric artist. He's 76... when he kicks the bucket, his wife is going to have a huge chore on her hand.
A few bikes in storage became rat dinners.
He gave me a set of (very hard to find) original Dream bars for Lori's bike.