Juice
01-17-2007, 02:41 PM
Deep South Choppers
A possible solution rolls on two wheels, makes a deep rumbling noise and marks anyone who rides it as a Type A personality. For the man or woman with the cojones and dinero, the low-slung saddle of a custom-built motorcycle from Deep South Choppers--Baton Rouge's only custom bike builder--is only a phone call away.
It all started innocently enough with the Mannino boys--Dennis and Brad--building street-rods and restoring old cars in the former Mike's Auto Parts building on Greenwell Springs Road. Mike Mannino, who ran the store for 25 years, is father of Dennis, alias D, and uncle of Brad.
Eventually the boys branched out into motorcycles and realized bikes were more fun, partly because they were quicker to build. Whereas a rod or restoration can take a year or more, a chopper can be put together in a couple of months. A business was born. The elder Mannino, meanwhile, lets them use the building for free and still drops by to supervise.
Two years after building their first bike, the Manninos are garnering national attention at motorcycle rallies and chopper magazines and slowly growing a loyal clientele. Elusive still, though, is the Holy Grail of chopper-world recognition: a competing slot on the Learning Channel's Biker Build-Off. It all comes down to whom you know and whether your bikes are worth a damn.
Established builders usually roll their eyes at newcomers--yet another Johnny-come-lately building junk, more often than not--though according to Dennis, the Manninos have been making friends in the industry.
"We've gotten lucky," he says. "We know a lot of those guys on the Biker Build-Off, and they've started trying to help us."
Dennis Mannino hopes to be on next season. A friend in Canada who won the Biker Build-Off this season wants to go against the Manninos next season. If it works out, the Manninos can expect orders to soar.
It's a good time to be a bike builder, considering the world has gone insane for custom choppers. Long gone are the days when high handle bars and long forks were the sole realm of the traditional "biker" whom decent people steered clear of. Today it's as likely to be your CPA or orthodontist terrorizing the citizenry on evil-looking, high-horsepower fantasy machines of blinding chrome and smoking rubber.
"There's a lot of people that like to ride, especially now," Brad Mannino says. "Bikers aren't thought of like they were 20 years ago--trashy old guys that start trouble. Everybody wants to ride now because it's something fun to do. We get all types of people in here to buy them."
Brad says the bikes start around $27,500, but "the sky's the limit," depending on how fancy a customer wants to go. Prices usually range from $40,000 to $45,000. Though many are built from components manufactured elsewhere--Deep South is Louisiana's only dealer for California-based Big Bear Choppers, for example--other bikes are Deep South from the ground up. The company has its own frame prototype, however, and intends to begin fabricating more of its own parts, Dennis says.
While shows like Biker Build-Off have fanned the flames of chopper mania, they've also led to a proliferation of custom bike shops around the country--to the point of glut.
"Right now it's pretty competitive, but everybody we're talking to says the next six months you're going to see a lot of bike shops go out of business," Dennis says. "They watch those TV shows and think they can do it, and don't realize how much money it takes to stay in business."
Not only do the Manninos plan on staying in business, they're not stopping until Deep South is an industry leader and making a ton of money. The brothers say they're committed to working hard for as long as it takes to reach their goal. For now, they're investing every dollar of profit they make back into the business, especially tools and equipment.
"You can't give up," Dennis says.
Beaux Ambrose likes riding his Deep South chopper so much he's selling his Harley. Ambrose spent some $38,000 having the bright yellow and chrome machine put together as a memorial to his late wife, Angela, who died in 1999 of a brain aneurism, two days before their anniversary. A rendering of her visage, above an epitaph, gazes serenely from under multiple coats of clear glossy finish on the motorcycle's rear fender.
"I just loved the work that D and them were doing over here at the time, and this is something I've been wanting to do for a really long time," Ambrose says.
The two used to ride together often. Ambrose thinks Angela would have liked the tribute.
"I needed somebody to keep me company, too," he says.
Jeff Snowden, another client, traded up to an orange Deep South-built Big Bear bike from the Iron Horse Texas chopper he used to ride. He also spent around $38,000. Snowden worked closely with the Manninos in designing the motorcycle.
"When I walked in, it was frame and wheels," he says. "They kind of guided me through this and that. I had some pretty radical ideas that weren't physically possible when you're welding metal and all that stuff."
Snowden compares it to building a giant Lego. The bike was built from Big Bear components, but has plenty of individual custom features ï¿ la Deep South to differentiate it from other choppers parked outside the tattoo parlor, tavern, pro shop, etc. Snowden's bike certainly isn't about to be confused with anyone else's, as it bears a "tribal sun" insignia identical to the tattoo on his calf.
Yes, it's fast. All these bikes are essentially hot-rods on two wheels. Snowden says his dream ship--with the S&S V-Twin engine used in most Deep South bikes--has "more power than you could ever imagine." All the same, he rarely finds occasion to use it. It's more fun to cruise and let people get a good look at the thing, Snowden says. A piece of advice: If attracting attention makes you uncomfortable, don't ride a chopper.
"I'm just tickled pink," Snowden says. "It stops traffic, and little kids jump up and down when you're riding past them."
A possible solution rolls on two wheels, makes a deep rumbling noise and marks anyone who rides it as a Type A personality. For the man or woman with the cojones and dinero, the low-slung saddle of a custom-built motorcycle from Deep South Choppers--Baton Rouge's only custom bike builder--is only a phone call away.
It all started innocently enough with the Mannino boys--Dennis and Brad--building street-rods and restoring old cars in the former Mike's Auto Parts building on Greenwell Springs Road. Mike Mannino, who ran the store for 25 years, is father of Dennis, alias D, and uncle of Brad.
Eventually the boys branched out into motorcycles and realized bikes were more fun, partly because they were quicker to build. Whereas a rod or restoration can take a year or more, a chopper can be put together in a couple of months. A business was born. The elder Mannino, meanwhile, lets them use the building for free and still drops by to supervise.
Two years after building their first bike, the Manninos are garnering national attention at motorcycle rallies and chopper magazines and slowly growing a loyal clientele. Elusive still, though, is the Holy Grail of chopper-world recognition: a competing slot on the Learning Channel's Biker Build-Off. It all comes down to whom you know and whether your bikes are worth a damn.
Established builders usually roll their eyes at newcomers--yet another Johnny-come-lately building junk, more often than not--though according to Dennis, the Manninos have been making friends in the industry.
"We've gotten lucky," he says. "We know a lot of those guys on the Biker Build-Off, and they've started trying to help us."
Dennis Mannino hopes to be on next season. A friend in Canada who won the Biker Build-Off this season wants to go against the Manninos next season. If it works out, the Manninos can expect orders to soar.
It's a good time to be a bike builder, considering the world has gone insane for custom choppers. Long gone are the days when high handle bars and long forks were the sole realm of the traditional "biker" whom decent people steered clear of. Today it's as likely to be your CPA or orthodontist terrorizing the citizenry on evil-looking, high-horsepower fantasy machines of blinding chrome and smoking rubber.
"There's a lot of people that like to ride, especially now," Brad Mannino says. "Bikers aren't thought of like they were 20 years ago--trashy old guys that start trouble. Everybody wants to ride now because it's something fun to do. We get all types of people in here to buy them."
Brad says the bikes start around $27,500, but "the sky's the limit," depending on how fancy a customer wants to go. Prices usually range from $40,000 to $45,000. Though many are built from components manufactured elsewhere--Deep South is Louisiana's only dealer for California-based Big Bear Choppers, for example--other bikes are Deep South from the ground up. The company has its own frame prototype, however, and intends to begin fabricating more of its own parts, Dennis says.
While shows like Biker Build-Off have fanned the flames of chopper mania, they've also led to a proliferation of custom bike shops around the country--to the point of glut.
"Right now it's pretty competitive, but everybody we're talking to says the next six months you're going to see a lot of bike shops go out of business," Dennis says. "They watch those TV shows and think they can do it, and don't realize how much money it takes to stay in business."
Not only do the Manninos plan on staying in business, they're not stopping until Deep South is an industry leader and making a ton of money. The brothers say they're committed to working hard for as long as it takes to reach their goal. For now, they're investing every dollar of profit they make back into the business, especially tools and equipment.
"You can't give up," Dennis says.
Beaux Ambrose likes riding his Deep South chopper so much he's selling his Harley. Ambrose spent some $38,000 having the bright yellow and chrome machine put together as a memorial to his late wife, Angela, who died in 1999 of a brain aneurism, two days before their anniversary. A rendering of her visage, above an epitaph, gazes serenely from under multiple coats of clear glossy finish on the motorcycle's rear fender.
"I just loved the work that D and them were doing over here at the time, and this is something I've been wanting to do for a really long time," Ambrose says.
The two used to ride together often. Ambrose thinks Angela would have liked the tribute.
"I needed somebody to keep me company, too," he says.
Jeff Snowden, another client, traded up to an orange Deep South-built Big Bear bike from the Iron Horse Texas chopper he used to ride. He also spent around $38,000. Snowden worked closely with the Manninos in designing the motorcycle.
"When I walked in, it was frame and wheels," he says. "They kind of guided me through this and that. I had some pretty radical ideas that weren't physically possible when you're welding metal and all that stuff."
Snowden compares it to building a giant Lego. The bike was built from Big Bear components, but has plenty of individual custom features ï¿ la Deep South to differentiate it from other choppers parked outside the tattoo parlor, tavern, pro shop, etc. Snowden's bike certainly isn't about to be confused with anyone else's, as it bears a "tribal sun" insignia identical to the tattoo on his calf.
Yes, it's fast. All these bikes are essentially hot-rods on two wheels. Snowden says his dream ship--with the S&S V-Twin engine used in most Deep South bikes--has "more power than you could ever imagine." All the same, he rarely finds occasion to use it. It's more fun to cruise and let people get a good look at the thing, Snowden says. A piece of advice: If attracting attention makes you uncomfortable, don't ride a chopper.
"I'm just tickled pink," Snowden says. "It stops traffic, and little kids jump up and down when you're riding past them."