Progress on Bultakenstein had been fairly mired for a while now. I incrementally lost enthusiasm for it. In an attempt to re-energize my motivation for it, I bolted up the “nice” BSA tank and exhaust, pulled it out from its back corner of the workshop, and rolled it out into the driveway to have a good look at the state of it.

That didn’t really help me get motivated, because I didn’t like what I saw. I just wasn’t feelin’ it.
Part of the problem is the many fabrication details I’m not happy with. When I started on this in fourteen years ago, I didn’t have many specialized tools, such as a welder or lathe, and I had relatively little fabrication experience. As a result, many of my components turned out too heavy, ugly, overly complicated. In a more general sense, the overall proportions are pretty wonky, for multiple reasons:
- I’ve never liked the look of the 17-inch rear wheel; it’s wimpy and out of proportion with the rest of the bike. I ended up with it only because it was cheap. Even worse, there are almost no tires available to fit it. The tire I bought for it is over a decade old, so having to buy a new one really isn’t a tragedy.
- The Norton Proddie seat feels even more wrong. I firmly believe that number plates look terribly pretentious on a street bike. On top of that, I do think it ruins the bike’s lines. I bought it primarily because it worked with the frame mods I’d made. Same old story: grasping for a simple, attainable solution rather than staying true to what I originally envisioned as the end product.
- My kludgy foot peg mounts need to be scrapped in favor of something better.
- I don’t really like the fat Astro exhaust, but that’s a comparatively minor quibble.
If you go back and look at the photo I took when I initially started building this bike, you can see the source of my first fundamental mistake. These are the parts I had assembled when I bought the Pursang frame and undertook this project:

Back in 2011, I intended this to be an extremely low-budget, low-effort pursuit (HA!). So, it made sense to use whatever parts I already had on-hand, including a 1976 YZ125C swingarm that I’d picked up years prior for next to nothing. That fairly casual choice introduced a significant liability that has nagged me ever since: a scrawny little 12mm diameter swingarm pivot bolt. It was barely adequate for a 184 lb., 21 horsepower motocross bike in 1976. (Yamaha went to a 16mm pivot bolt the following year.) It didn’t help that the welding and gusseting was—um, less than robust.

When I decided to revert to twin shocks, I used a DT175 swingarm for simplicity, because it was basically the same configuration minus the YZ’s “Monocross” suspension scaffolding (and less sketchy fabrication, thankfully). Of course, it retained the same 12mm pivot hardware. To make things worse, I had designed rear engine mounts that attached to the swingarm pivot. So, that spindly shaft now had to support the rear of the engine as well. I knew full well I was clinging to a really lousy design choice, and my assessment of the whole project suffered because of it.

The rear engine mount itself was much more elegant in concept than it turned out to be in reality. My design was overly complicated, unexpectedly heavy, and required all sorts of additional compromises in foot peg mounting and pedal actuation. I hadn’t thought through the order of assembly, either: it turned out that removing the engine required pulling the swingarm. The only reason I had come up with this design was my attempt early on to avoid any need for welding. Furthermore, some knowledgeable folks pointed out that rubber mounting the engine only at the rear could actually increase felt vibration, and possibly even promote fatigue of the frame’s single front down tube. So, this whole structure will also get the ol’ heave-ho.

Looking at the bike now, I just see a long string of compromises. I wondered what it would take to make the bike something I’d be excited about again. I considered every option, from just getting it running as best I can, to parting it out, to selling it off as is. I decided to go back to just the motor and frame, and start over on everything else.
So, it’s back to the drawing board.
All this will add expense to an already obscene price tag for this project, but I’m mentally (and literally) starting a new balance sheet. There’s really no reason to go forward and end up with something I’m not happy with.