If you were into motorcycles of the chopped variety in those days, other than the popular Tritons and Tribsa's of the era, it was inevitable that the advent of the film 'Easy Rider' could quite easily leave a lasting impression upon you. And so it was with me as with many others. After watching that piece of escapism - repeatedly over the weeks it was showing, Captain America and Billy would become heroes to thousands.

And lets face it, it made a refreshing change to leave the cinema having actually seen the film rather than indulging in a steamy back row session with the girlie of you're choice, which was the only other reason for frequenting the local Odeon so often, but this time, the girlies went home with dry panties: that film was just so much more important to us lads.

Living in the back of beyond in sleepy Hereford, with its low wage employment, the chosen rides of those two freedom chasers, the H-D, was to be just a dream to me and his buddies but within a few years I befriended a couple of guys, who with a few more years' earning power behind them had bought their versions of 'America's Finest'.

So I started riding with them, all three of us on oil drippers, but at least my Bonneville didn't break down every dozen miles or so, unlike the Harleys which did: always in need of the next bodge just to get back home.

And so I got disillusioned by the whole H-D thing - I just couldn't understand how all that dedication and spannering night after night wasn't rewarded with a trouble free ride, next time out - and I remained so for the next twenty years or so, until the nineties, when I was running with some new-found mates running 1340 Evo's. These beasts were totally different on reliability: someone had been doing some work in the background.

Could now be the right time?

In '98, I decided to find out, put my gambling head on, and purchased this Dyna Superglide.

It was almost in stock trim but for some subtle changes here and there - notably that the riding position had already taken the forward controls route, courtesy of some KuryAkyn items - but I thought no more about customising it any further, as I just couldn't get my head around taking a hacksaw to an eighteen month old baby. My baby. It would be sacrilege.

Anyway, I was already the proud owner of two stonking Yam FJ12 lowriders, both of which gave me a buzz - especially the rigid one, 'Mr Angry' which was almost sexual.

So the Dyna was destined to just stay as a leisurely laid-back ride: nothing too radical. Well, for six months or so until the urge for alterations had arrived, but even then I didn't want to chop the frame about in any way, so the changes were kept to a minimum, and a flame paint job.

Then came about the winter of the millennium, and with it, the decision to pull the bike down, for more changes. The performance and braking was ample for my tastes, and the handling wasn't that bad really either: I've travelled, fully loaded, to East Germany, Holland, Belgium and Eire, but to give it a boost and a change, I treated it to Progressive suspension all round.

Then, to get down to the normal ride height I was accustomed to, or as near as I could, the rear end was fitted out with a lowering kit from White Bros before turning my attentions to the front, I wanted to rake the front end out, but wanted to do it without interfering with the headstock, so a billet Wide-Glide slab yoke kit, complete with their own 6-degrees of rake were obtained from SJP.

These, together with the replacement Heritage 16-inch wheel - coming on as substitute in extra time - negated the need for the stock 19-incher, so that got launched binwards, which resulted in the front end being closer to the tarmacadam.

Now that the black stuff was in sight a tad sooner, so too would the sparks off the stock exhausts. Where's that bin again? I called upon his mate Dave Leonard of Radstock - who is just the absolute danglers at stainless steel fabrication - to put things right and the resulting exhaust system was made in that ever-so delightful metal, and turns up the volume too.

The other advantage of the Dyna wearing this system, is it now gives me an extra two-and-a-half inches … I wish! No, I'm referring to ground clearance! This makes for far more roundabout shenanagans, much to the disgust of 'er indoors, the long suffering Tina.

The fenders were replaced, firstly at the tradesman's entrance, with an aesthetically pleasing Dyna Wideglide item in place of the original pile of poo that they've fitted to Superglides and Sportsters since the dawn of time, and which also provides a home for the stock rear lamp - well, stock for a Wideglide.

The front end needed bracing up due to the addition of the width it now boasted. So doubling up as a fender and fork brace, a length of steel trailer guard was persuaded to fit, but only after Baz (NCC Glos.) had his wicked way with it, and the pointy end was finished off with a pair of FLH stainless steel bars, sitting in blind top billet risers. Stock switchgear has been retained for ease of use, but the illuminations are in the guise of a replica vintage car unit, with Road King internals.

Talking of wiring, I did tackle some rewiring myself, and wrapped it up in colourful braiding and shrinks, which tidied it up no end. And there's a clever touch up front, if I do say so myself: although it's a single disc set up front end, there's two braided lines exiting from the area of the front brake calliper, and if you look closer you'll spot the wiring of the digital speedo housed inside one of the hoses. Dead neat, and such a simple idea.

But there's no need to change everything, and another stock item I kept hold of was the fuel tank because I reckon it suits the narrowness of the V-Twin motor - although I've reworked the tank dash. Also, as a novelty, I kept the fuel gauge in position: well, I was pissed off with never knowing how much fuel I'd got on the rigid FJ, not even having a reserve tap. That had brought about some stressful mileages, especially travelling through the night up through Ireland to the north, but there'd be none of that nonsense this time. Mind you, it would have to be a good reason for me to have any instrumentation on a bike: I usually discard such items - they're for gals.

In terms of the paintwork, Steve Sands, in Hereford, laid on the basecoat in good old Harley fashion - gloss black - before Tave, at the award winning 'Red Eye Designs', did all the artwork: it certainly pays to know who your daughter's friends are. This young lady wields an awesome airbrush, and an even finer freehand. The tribal and spacey paintwork just doesn't get justice in these pics, the depth of them is just lush.

Sitting on top of the seat rails, and underneath my piles, is a stock seatbase which has been recovered by the talents of good friends, Sparra and Tammy, at Outback MC Saddles. Tammy designed a new style of stitchwork, and used it to good effect on this seat, along with replicating the artwork in grey inlay. Nice!

There's polished ally and stainless steel in copious amounts all over, with GSM Polishers tackling a fair quantity of it, while I ruined my fingerprints doing the rest - shame they're on record, then - before getting my bestest razor out, and giving the stainless steel fasteners a jolly good shave.

The upper belt guard and grab rail were made up by two school chums, Colin Miles and Joe Malin, in exchange for a packet of fruit gums. Those school gates are heavenly places to congregate around.

And that's about your lot. This Dyna isn't the usual radical custom that I'm normally associated with, but my weary, worn-out body is at least getting some relief while riding this one. Rigid, hard as f*ck chops do still hold dear to my heart, but it's the other parts of my anatomy that need catering for in greater comfort so, although I'm forfeiting the rigid classic Harley chopper of those distant original dreams, at least my piles are now living in contentment.

Isn't suspension a wonderful thing? Oh, and by the way, Dennis (Billy) Hopper rules!

Specifications