Builds & Skunkworks

My brother called one day: “What you got going on right now? Get your ass in the truck and meet me in Texas. We’re buying trailers and hauling helicopters.”

So we bought trailers in Texas and headed to Fort Drum to start transporting aircraft.

We had help with loading, but figuring out how to secure and transport the helicopters was our challenge. As the work continued, we developed tie-down methods, custom trailers, and tail supports adaptable to different aircraft. A single trailer load could carry an aircraft worth around $11 million.

I did it for about six months before heading home to raise my daughters. My brother kept going and built a specialized aircraft-transport business.

Sometimes the solution isn’t something you can buy. Sometimes you have to build it.

This project began when a disabled veteran needed a way to remove his Ford Bronco’s hardtop without anyone else’s help.

I designed and built a lifting device that allowed him to handle the top independently. What started as a solution for one person eventually led to additional units being built and sold.

Not every invention begins with a business plan. Sometimes it starts with someone needing a little more independence—and being willing to figure out how to make that happen.

Steel Kharma is an ongoing custom rat-rod mud racer that brings together an unlikely collection of automotive and heavy-truck components.

Built around a 1994 Toyota 4Runner chassis and a Ford Model A Tudor body, it features:

• A Chevrolet V8 engine and transmission
• A Subaru roof
• Peterbilt cab parts turned sideways and extensively modified into a custom hood
• Kenworth intake components and rear fenders
• A Polaris RZR seat
• Exhaust pipes and track bars repurposed from logging trucks

Nothing about this machine follows a conventional blueprint. Each component brings its own engineering challenges, requiring creative solutions to make everything work together.

Steel Kharma is still under construction, evolving as new ideas, parts, and solutions come together.

It’s an experiment in unconventional engineering, creative problem-solving, and building something nobody else would have thought to put together quite this way.

Unstifled creativity. Only limited by funding.

Mom always loved Mustangs. She'd owned a green 1964½ Mustang, very much like the 1965 coupe I was restoring.

My 1965 is a six-cylinder, three-speed coupe in Phoenician Yellow. I put the work into bringing it back, hoping Mom would have the chance to drive and enjoy it when it was finished.

She passed away before I completed the restoration.

I finished the car, but the reason I started it has always stayed with me.

Some builds are about what you make. Others are about who you hoped to share them with.

A side-by-side is a useful machine right off the showroom floor. But that doesn’t mean it can’t be improved.

The custom front brush guard provides additional protection for working and exploring off-road, while the rear-mounted NateCage began with a very different purpose.

NateCage — Designed With the Dogs in Mind

After an accident involving one of my dogs riding in the back, I wanted a safer way to bring them along.

The solution was NateCage, a custom rear enclosure featuring a fold-down gate that doubles as a step, making it easier for the dogs to climb in and out.

The design later evolved to include two fuel-can mounting locations, adding useful storage capability for longer adventures.

What started as a way to better protect my dogs became a versatile setup for hauling gear and extra fuel on long rides and overnight trips. A hard-shell rifle case was also repurposed to carry hunting equipment.

Sometimes the best ideas begin with something you wish had gone differently.

Why settle for one configuration when your needs change with the weather, the terrain, and the season?

These custom-built side-by-side doors feature a modular design that allows them to be used in three configurations:

• Open frame: Lightweight, open-air protection.
• Frame with aluminum skins: More coverage while keeping an open upper section.
• Fully enclosed: Aluminum skins with removable upper sections featuring sliding windows.

The original one-piece doors evolved into a second-generation modular system, allowing the same basic door assembly to be adapted for different weather conditions and uses.

Build it once. Make it adaptable.

Sometimes all you need is an old, beat-up farm drag, a piece of pipe, and some rope.

With a little imagination and some welding, those discarded parts became a weed grapple that can be pulled by a truck or side-by-side to help clear unwanted vegetation from the pond.

No expensive specialty equipment. No complicated engineering. Just looking at what you’ve already got and figuring out how to make it work.

Sometimes the best invention isn’t something new. It’s finding a new purpose for something old.

My daughter wanted a Final Fantasy VII Buster Sword for her desk.

Of course, I couldn’t just make a sword and call it finished.

So I built a world for it to stand in, made the sword’s handle removable so it could double as a letter opener, and added colorful lighting to bring the whole thing to life.

What started as a simple request became a one-of-a-kind desktop sculpture.

And then came the shipping quote.

After picking myself up off the floor, I shipped it anyway.

Because some projects aren’t about making money. They’re about making somebody smile.

Dad started the Scorpion Race Team, and I thought it would be fun to make a small illuminated scorpion for the hood of his racing Jeep.

I started welding together whatever looked right—nails for legs, assorted metal scraps for the body, some LED lights I had lying around, and a switch I actually had to buy.

Somewhere along the way, my little hood ornament became a surprisingly heavy piece of metal artwork.

Too heavy for the Jeep, but perfect as a one-of-a-kind illuminated decoration for Dad’s shop.

The project didn’t fail. It just found a different job.

I’ve always liked dragons, and I wanted to incorporate them into Steel Kharma, my custom rat-rod mud racer.

That led me to searching for dragon silhouettes that could become custom taillights, similar to some horse-themed lights I’d made previously.

I found the shapes I wanted and commissioned someone on Etsy to cut the designs from metal, keeping both the silhouettes and the surrounding pieces.

The surrounding pieces would become the taillights. But what about the dragons themselves?

Well, the little girls next door happened to have a fairy garden.

And wouldn’t you know it? Some mysterious fairies decided that garden needed dragons.

A few other kids I knew liked dragons too, so I made them painted dragon wind chimes.

One project, several unexpected destinations, and a little extra magic for some kids.

Sometimes the best part of making something is finding somebody to give it to.

I wanted something different for a custom Mustang project, so I designed and built a set of horse-themed sequential taillights.

The Mustang project never ended up getting them.

Instead, the lights found a home with a horse-loving neighbor, where the design was just as fitting.

I still plan to build another set someday for my dream custom Mustang.

Some ideas just have to wait for the right ride. And possibly a winning lottery ticket.

It started when Dad, my former father-in-law and longtime partner in mechanical mischief, discovered that a piston had been installed backward in one of his race engines. The valve relief wasn’t where it needed to be, and the valve ended up stuck in the piston.

Naturally, he showed everyone.

Not long afterward, I spent half a day dismantling my bathtub plumbing, trying to figure out why it wouldn’t drain. It wasn’t until I was lying underneath the house, surrounded by plumbing parts, that I realized the dog’s tail had apparently bumped the drain stopper closed during her last bath.

One flick of the switch. Problem solved.

Two experienced problem-solvers. Two spectacularly unnecessary problems.

So I took Dad’s damaged piston, with the valve still permanently embedded in it, gathered some scrap metal, and built the Bonehead Award.

I gave it back to him. He loves it.

Because if you can’t laugh at yourself, you’re missing half the fun of making things.

When I decided to attend Comic-Con with my daughters, I realized I already had most of what I needed to dress as Harry Dresden from Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files.

The hat, jeans, and suede leather jacket were all mine, dating back to the late 1980s.

My mom had even given me a “Trust me, I’m a Jedi” T-shirt because she knew I loved Star Wars. As it happens, Harry wears that same shirt in one of the books.

All I was missing was the wizard’s staff.

So I made one.

I carved and decorated a wooden staff with runes representing wisdom, protection, strength, success, victory, and courage, then added red and blue lighting to bring a little magic to the finished piece.

A little woodworking, a little electronics, and a good excuse to have some fun with my girls.

Sometimes imagination isn’t about inventing something new. It’s about bringing a favorite story to life.

The first of these benches was built as a gift for an elder of the Kelso Native American tribe.

Using mostly discarded wooden cable spools and pallets, I turned materials that had outlived their original purpose into sturdy, useful seating.

That first bench wasn’t the last.

I’ve since built several more for family, neighbors, and others, including one for my oldest daughter.

Each bench is another opportunity to give old materials a new purpose while making something useful for someone else.

Old Parts. New Possibilities.