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It’s all Chris’ fault. Everything. If he’d not taken me out on the back of ‘Blow Job’ that sunny afternoon and completely shattered my perspective, I could be happily riding my GSX, none the wiser, perhaps a little money in the bank, but no. Like some kind of vampire, with that ride Chris had enrolled me into his coven, and given me a blood lust for V8 power. I ordered one that afternoon. Back then this trike was going to be just a rover, with sensible wheels and a price tag I could think of without wincing, but then during the 'waiting list years' the spec got a bit out of control. After a chance conversation with a local engine builder, I found myself in Yarmouth with a small block chevy motor, TH350 autobox, and a pair of ridiculously huge rear wheels in the back of the van. Then followed two years of trying, and failing, not to phone Desperates hourly for a progress report. Tantalising photos

arrived every now and again along with the odd invoice, then Chris suffered the flaming legs incident and it all went very quiet. Another few months passed then the letter from Lynne arrived. Chris has fallen seriously ill and was unable to continue she explained, and added that it might be a good idea to get there asap with a trailer and take whatever I could before the administrators did. Nutty Norm stepped in after much pleading and offers of my firstborn, and agreed to finish the trike. Fourweeks later I got a phone call from him, ‘Listen to this....’ followed by the most obscenely loud racket I’d heard in my life. That was just the fuel pump,

the best was yet to come. I collected the trike a few days before Christmas 2000. I’m told something festive happened on the 25th - I’d no interest whatsoever. Finally, after three years of waiting, worrying and seeing the summers come and go trikeless, it was here, and I was gone. It was freezing, there was salt on the roads, I was in for a festive bollocking when I got back but the rush of riding it put a daft grin on my face that’s been there ever since.
The chevy evolved a fair bit over the following years. A few little problems came to light once it was on the road, the tyres fouled the frame when they got hot, the alternator wasn’t putting in as much as the fans were taking out, and the cooling system needed some attention. Nothing serious. That was until the motor let go in spectacular fashion, trailing a plume of steam down the A46 not dissimilar to the Red Arrows, smoke on, all nine of them. A leak down test revealed a probable crack in the block, which was good news - the perfect opportunity to get a bigger one. The chap who sold me the 5.7 motor took it back for the same price in part ex for a 6.7 he made up and dyno'd for me - 282bhp at 4000 rpm, 404ftlb at 3,400, before the nitrous.

The initial ¼ mile times were pretty average, mid 13’s. Quick for a ton of trike but pedestrian compared to the GSX. I fitted a transmission oil cooler and shift reprogramming kit to the gearbox to slicken up the changes and to hang on to each gear for longer, and I got the manual kick down to work, but the times still remained in the low teens. It was time to re-mortgage and invest in nitrous. No doubt comparable increases in performance could have been achieved by carrying out basic engine mods, probably for a fraction of the money, but where's the fun in that? No one says, 'look at that trike, he's carried out basic engine

modifications'. I spent a winter reading up on nitrous installation and application and had many long conversations with a local chap who runs in 9.90 class before going for a cheater kit. The system is pretty conservative - it will deliver between 25 and 250 additional BHP, though on standard pistons and rods I’ve only jetted it for 65. It runs a dedicated fuel circuit and I use non-projected plugs, 2.6 deg retard on the timing, and a combination of BP Super Unleaded and C12 racing fuel before hitting the button. A wide open microswitch triggers the progressive controller situated where the dash should be. Power, as they say, is nothing without control. It took a second off the ¼ mile times, increasing terminal speed to 125mph. It also meant that I couldn’t park it anywhere without someone asking if I’d seen ‘The Fast and the Furious’.

Then came the mirrors. I’d seen them on Mick and Helen’s Tribal Vision, then again on an H&H Cycles Harley and immediately had to have some. I’d toyed with fitting a tricked up digital dash, and, as it happens, new mirrors, so these killed several birds with one credit card. H&H had a spare set, so I stuck gran on eBay with no reserve and bought them. They were a complete sod to fit, having come from the States originally and so inevitably designed to go on a Harley, and not many chevys are V twins, or run the speedo off a hall effect pickup that counts the cog teeth going by in the gearbox. The manufacturers were no help, simply saying ‘Good luck, let us know how you fix it’. I didn’t. After much cunning use of string

and widgets, the mirrors now show odometer, trip, water temp and speed in the left, and tacho, volts, and oil pressure in the right. They also contain all the idiot lights, automatically adjust the display brightness and give a 0 - 60 time. Their tea isn’t bad either. For no obvious reason, I made up and installed remote ignition and start, and felt pretty cocky about it too until I saw that CBX at the Bulldog, the one with all the cameras for mirrors, monitor in the tank and magnet-in-the-glove operated ancillaries. Soon put me in my place that did. The remote is still good for a laugh though - all it takes is someone getting just that little bit too close to the motor, looking with their fingers while they think no-ones watching, and....... puerile I know, but it still makes me laugh every time.

Riding it’s a blast. I’ve had it on the road for five years and it seems pretty normal to me now so it’s always surprising to see the reaction it gets. It’s obscenely loud and deeply ecologically unsound, but it still seems to make everyone who sees it smile, even if they are carrying a sticky child under one arm and a length of decking under the other as they stagger out of B+Q dreaming of the life they could of had. For some reason, I keep being drawn to these soul destroying hell holes most sunny weekends, not shopping you understand, just being that irritating poser who keeps riding past, having far too much fun, and rubbing it in.
I got a big kick when it won the European trike show in 2003. In the early days of the build

I’d naively said to Chris that it might turn out nice enough to win the odd show - I genuinely had no concept of the degree of craftsmanship Chris would put into it. So, after six years of anticipation, to hold a European trophy was immensely satisfying. Though the plan had never been to go trophy hunting, in ’03 - ‘04 it brought in a fair stash of  silverware, so if you see it about now it’ll be in the carpark, not the show. It was built to ride after all. My plan such as it was, in going from bike to trike had been that it might slow me down a bit before something nasty happened. Well, that didn’t work out. I seem to ride just as hard now, only without the protection of a helmet. That Chris Ireland has a lot to answer for.

There are downsides. Here are five of them. Just in case you're not a monster trike owner, may I suggest that to protect your dignity should you ever meet one, don't ask the following questions,

1) What’s it worth?

2) How fast does it go?

3) How much are those tyres?