My wife and I a woke one Sunday morning to glaring blare of a world war 2 air raid siren, the fire alarm in our small town going off, with an all volunteer fire department, this is how we summon the troops. We switched on the scanner and listened to the call go out for local fire support and for support from other local fire departments; it was a big fire! We listened as they gave directions, we listened again, they were giving out the address to our warehouse were we stored material for our construction business. A good friend of mine owned the warehouse, we traded favors back and forth I never really paid rent, I was there when ever he needed help in his business in turn he let me store my material there.

I got dressed and figured I would go see what was left, being an optimist I figured to make the best of it and take my new bike over to see what was going on. I had the bike only a couple of weeks, a 1987 Yamaha FZR 1000, I had picked it up used and it was in perfect shape, not a scratch on it anywhere, it was a real pleasure to ride and I really did loved the sound and feel of new motorcycle, it was a big step up from the 1980 GS 1100 Suzuki I had previously ridden, it had brakes, it could corner and it was comfortable. The FZR 1000 was a sport bike that was way ahead of the others in technology and is the forefather of the R1, a very large step up in technology from the GS 1100.

I parked off to the side to see the smoldering ruins of what was the ware house, I spoke with Keith the owner, he was thankful that the scale house had been saved and no one was hurt, he seemed to take it all in stride. As we chatted on the porch a shrill scream of a woman pierced the air "No STOP! STOP! STOP!" Keith and I ran from the back porch over to where the yelling was coming from and now a crowd of fire fighters had quickly gathered; convinced that a young child had just been backed over by the fire engine, we expected the worse. Instead what we saw was my red white and blue FZR laying on it side with a steady stream of gas running out of the carbs; it laid there like a wounded running back, with a crowd of players looking on, each saying "it doesn't look good, should we move it?" I took a deep breath and picked up my baby, I mumbled, "I guess it's not that bad" in some sort of false bravado. The mirrors were broken, foot peg gone, shift lever, clutch assembly just hanging like a broken appendage, the turn signal facing the sky, some small dents in the tank and some broken and rashed plastic some on each side, some from the fire truck, some from pavement.

My bike was hurt, and my heart was broken.

We got the bike up and rolled it to the sidelines were everyone huddled around an had a chance to make their prognoses over the wounded bike and offer some sympathy

I spoke with the Chief, he said don't worry we have insurance and we are supposed to have someone on the blind side of the truck when we back up. He told me that I should just go to the dealer and get a price on the parts and that they would pay me and probably not even turn it into the insurance company so their rates would not go up

I got my bike started after a couple of tries, I sat there in the muddy water which was the run off from the building fire, a group of on lookers staring at me in morning sun, wondering what I was going to do next. I had just a stub for a shift lever, no foot peg on that side and no clutch, but like a badly hurt player, I was going to ride this baby home, we were not going to leave on a stretcher! with my head held high, and with as much dignity as I could muster, I banged the stub and lurched foreword easing out of the driveway and out into the road in first gear. I could only shake my head at today's luck, in my first private moment since seeing our construction material burned and my bike wrecked all in a mater of moments, I blew out a long breath in disgust, and said the words out loud "I guess it could have been worse." Gaining my composer I did not want to limp home like a loser, I wanted to leave the scene like a competitor not like someone defeated and broken. I cranked on the gas bringing the bike up to 9 grand and then with the heal of my foot and a gentle flick of the throttle banged 2 gear, and then again doing the same for 3 gear. My FZR was going to roar like the lion that it was. On the trip home all I could think about was my bike, the business stuff is just stuff but I loved my bike.

Later that day at the dealership reality sunk in; the side panel, the front cowl, tail section, tank, while all were damage cracked or rashed. I had to ask myself if it was worth the now almost $2000 plus in parts that the dealer said it would cost to bring the bike back to looking like it did before it's encounter with the fire truck. I decided that no it would not be perfect; I would settle for just making it useable again, I picked up the levers and turn signals, foot peg and ordered a decal of the side cover, the total was just under $400. After giving it some thought, it was just an accident, by someone who had spent their Sunday trying to save a building and my stuff, they were volunteers and part of our community. I would have to think of a cheaper way to repair my bike than the dealer. I am an optimist, there were salvage yards, E-bay and lots of other options; I am sure there had to be after market suppliers I would just have to find them.

Sometimes being an optimist has its drawbacks. I checked out E-bay only to find lots of plastic in the same shape as the stuff on my bike, after what seemed like hundreds of calls to salvage yards, were it seemed I could find plastic in nice shape I could not find it in the color scheme of my bike. I could also not find any suppliers of after market plastic. I then did an internet search, typing in anything that had to do with motorcycle and plastic, then motorcycle plastic repair, Nothing! I did come across a link to a company that sold plastic welding supplies; I didn't even know it could be welded. On a gamble I ordered the stuff I thought I needed, it was supposed to come with video and instructions so that I could weld to parts of plastic together; it did sound intriguing.

My stuff came in a few days, I popped in the video and watched it like a doctor learning the latest technique in surgery, I watched it a couple of times and then read the manual cover to cover. I figured I was now ready to learn how to weld plastic, seemed pretty straightforward in the video. I had some plastic to practice on, I figured I would weld two pieces together and see just how strong it was. I like to think of my self as bright, I own a welding company, a gold plating company. and have built kit cars from almost scratch, the plastic welding process shouldn't be that tough. Well I was wrong, the first welds broke, the second and the third and the forth. I spent the next couple of weeks trying different variations of procedures all with bad luck. The process showed in the video works well if you don't have to make a cosmetic repair and could add a thick weld for re-enforcement, I needed to be able to do enough body work so the repair was undetectable, no mater what I did it seemed like after 7 or 8 bends the plastic would fracture. I realized that the wind would vibrate the plastic on the bike and this may not work. whatever I did would have to really last. Over the next few weeks I practiced and I played with the process; somewhere around the 115th failure I struck upon a different approach to getting a good strong weld that would still be strong yet let me paint over it so is would be undetectable. Brimming with confidence I now needed something to fix, I had been around cars in the past rebuilding and restoring cars even built a 427 Cobra. I realized that with every project I did the third and fourth attempt was always far superior to my first and second attempt I was going to assume that this would be no different. I also got some great advice from a very close friend of mine who runs a healthy body shop, "It costs just as much to fix one car as it does two." With the drying times involved in body work, while one part dries you could work on the other. This gave me all the excuse I needed to shop for anther bike.

I searched through the online classifieds, I found a Suzuki 600 Katana that had been laid down and the guy was asking about $1500 less than he would have if the bike were in nice shape. I took a trip to the Boston suburbs and came home with the bike, 15000 miles on it and good tires, it ran great, it needed work on the right side panel and tail section and minor work on the tank. It cost me $1,500.

I made the repairs, and painted it with the advice of my friend and local body shop owner; the bike came out looking great. I advertised the bike and sold it for $2,700. I was hooked, I started right away looking for more bikes to buy, I would buy anything that had cosmetic damage, to repair and paint it and then turn around and sell it, I of coarse did as any business man does, I re-invested what I made into equipment. Fist came the spray booth, fresh air system and suit, better guns and gun cleaner then newer and better designed welding equipment.

I had always documented my work with digital photos, my son who happened to be a software developer at the time suggested that we put up a web page with examples of our work, and offer our services to the general public. We started out slow; to be honest some of our first work for others was only fair at best. While I had a real good idea of how to weld plastic, my painting skill would take years to develop. I struggled trying to convince people that plastic could even be repaired, today it is taken for granted. We have seen the ups and downs like any business and I have quit three times in absolute disgust with customers that could just never be satisfied. We have had many happy customers who have been very pleased with the results of our work. There is something very satisfying about helping a guy put his bike back together and saving him money. I too look back many times when I speak with customers who are telling me about their crash and there busted up loved one, I only have to look back to a warm sunny day in the summer when the fire alarm went off when and I was in their shoes.

If you click on our examples page you can view both my FZR 1000 and my first Katana. While we have painted more than a 100 bikes and partials for 100's more since starting Empire GP I leave these two up in our examples for sentimental reasons.