How could I pick the "Best Chopper" before I even got to Sturgis, you ask? Simple - on that dusty road, in that crowded gas station, with the wind stinging my face  - this bike just stood out as one on the most classic examples of the killer chopper shovel I've ever seen. From the magneto to the bedroll, from the chain hanging under the front to the Norse God on the peanut tank - you knew this bike was as good as it gets in road-worthy choppers. I knew this scoot didn't get to Sturgis on a chopper because it appeared like a vision in the middle of nowhere.