Bama Rides

Posts Tagged ‘maintain your motorcycle’

We finally got “The Beast” running this weekend, after we cut into the bad electrical, we started rewiring to get a bit of fire where it was needed.  Opened up the airbox, sprayed some ether, jumped the ignition at the solenoid, and boom, she fired.  It took a bit more rigging to get fuel going to it as we did not have a key to the gas tank.  We did also manage to get most of the non-essential gear stripped from the bike also, and it is starting to look like something we might enjoy riding.  Keep in mind, this is a bike that was donated by one of ours members, so we have less than $100 invested in this bike so far, and I am projecting less than $200 more to make it roadworthy (it might take a bit more to make it safe).

Well today was the Breast Cancer awareness ride here.
I had beat my brains into a jelly like mass going over and pounding problems out of he world famous Flaming Screaming Kawasaki of Death.   But the crazy part of it was I had beat this deadline and was 99.99% confident that the bike would have no problem making this run.
Mistake #1. I am way too mathematically illiterate to possibly figure out the statistics involved in calculating the survivability of a 26 year old bike with a few thousands parts (that really don’t like each other sometimes) and a ride of 100 miles  in a pack  of 40 other riders. I forgot to move some decimals and factor in the Voodoo curse placed on me years ago.

Chapter 2: A New Hope

After spending the last couple of days in the grips of allergies that were quite possibly the cause of the swine flu and having to go and watch the local high school baseball team win their 2nd round state playoff game last night  (GO CHOCTAWS!!! ) I was still feeling pretty beat down and tired when  7:00 rolled around and the alarm went off.
I got up and left She Who Must Be Obeyed (the beautiful Mitzi Elliott for those of you who were not aware I was married) snoring in a blissfull slumber…dreaming contentedly about projects and jobs she NEEDED me to be doing on a beautiful and glorious Saturday.  A bowl of cereal and a glass of sweet tea (I’m an action man and I don’t have time for coffee in my life)  after a quick trip online for the hour by hour local forecast on weather.com and a quick check of Bamarides.com it was time to get the all important  two Wal-mart bags from the kitchen and go out to the garage to start the bike.
Now I know what you are thinking “What do Wal-mart bags have to do with starting a motorcycle? ” Well there is a story there too. Let me digress back acouple of days.
As most of you are aware I’ve been having carb issues with this bike. It is a Kawasaki with standard Mikuni B-34s or 6’s on it.  A popular manufacturer, a huge carb company and a fairly popular size and style.
Try and find a rebuild kit for it.
If you are riding or repairing 76-79 model then there are tons of rebuild kits available because as we all know it is so much easier to get parts things the older they are. Try and find a rebuild kit for an 80-83 model,,, they don’t exist. So I’m running a homemade set that are made from the best surviving parts from 3 different sets and 2 different motorcycle manufacturers. Not the best answer for this problem but hey its an answer.
So now back to the Walmart bags… A couple of days ago I stopped by one of Tuscaloosa.. no West Alabama’s finer motorcyle repair, rebuild and wrecked bike recovery operations “Primitive Cycles” where Primitive and Booty Hunter welcomed me with the $10.00 tour of their fine establishment. After Primitive and I talked over my carb situation and he explained that he had not yet found the rebuild kits I needed he asked me how I started the bike. I told him that the carbs did not have a choke rather using an enrichiner circuit. After a few moments discussion he pointed out that I needed to manually choke the carbs by hand.   Shane must have told Kerry a funny joke just as I was pulling out of their parking lot the way they were laughing and pointing it had to be a good one. Yall have to tell me later guys.

Well I wasn’t going to put my hand down there since this bike has on regular occaisions decided to backfire….I have the singed eyebrows to prove it. So I stuff plastic Walmart bags in the carb throats and turn the motor over for a few seconds with out the power to the coil basically choking the patookie out of it. I then flip the switch and push the starter button and it rolls over for a while then coughs, gags, farts, backfires and starts.
Its not exactly the ideal way to start it up but hey if it works it works. After the bike is warm then it fires instantly just by bumping the starter. Where is the fun in that?

So after bagging the carbs and firing it off I headed out into one of the prettiest Saturday mornings I had seen in some time.
Today was going to be great, beautiful weather, a smooth running bike, and helping to ensure the health of women.
I was a force of nature, one with universe, that old Suzuki sales pitch line “…Like a single moving part…” going through my head I snicked smartly through the gears leaving my cares behind.

Chapter 3: Something smells strange

I stopped and topped off the tank and made it to the registration site, naturally I had miss read the flyer and instead of an 8:30 start and back home by lunch it was a 10:30 start with a late lunch.
No problem. I signed up and went to CVS to see my buddy Eric the manager (Harley Davidson Heritage owner btw) and get something to try and make these allergies a little more manageable. After talking with him I decided a private ride to West Blocton  and back ought to sooth any fears I had of the bike not being 100%. I pulled back up to the church at 10:15 and ths lot was a whole lot fuller than I thought it would be. I guesstimated 35+ bikes which is a good draw in a small town on Talledega weekend. I parked and hustled over to the preride briefing and prayer. After the opening festivities I made my way back to the only KZ still in operation with this carb setup for roughly 10 parsecs in any direction. There was a couple of people there looking it over. Now I’m used to that at any event where a sizable group of riders are present there is always someone who had one, their dad, uncle grampa etc had one or they are just confused since its not a V-twin and decked out in chrome. The lady was nice enough she wanted to know where my gremlin bell was. Now I’m not a superstitious person so  don’t have one. But being the natural born smart ass I am I replied that the gremlins stole it from me but I didn’t want one since it would probably be a dinner bell for all gremlins withing 10 miles. The man looked me in the eye and said the magic phrase “I had one of these once…The damn thing was cursed, I think it is a Mopar design or something.” Then they got on their shiny Honda land yacht and pulled toward the front making sure that therewere many bikes between him and the cursed Kawi.
The first leg of the trip went with no fanfare from Centreville down to Maplesville over to Clanton then hang a left to Calera. The bike was running like it hasn’t since I owned it. For a cursed ride it sure was acting like the demons were all just in my head. Then we made a left and took 31 towards Calera. About 1/2 way between Clanton and Calera there was a pop like a .22 going off. A quick glance at the tach showed no variance in the readings a glance down and back showed no oil or smoke and the pulsing of the engine hadn’t changed its note. So the only option was to ignore it and motor on. after about 5 minutes or so there came a noticible wobble in the back. I pulled beside my friend Mike and pointed down to the tire. He looked down and hollerd back FLAT!!. We were coming up on Calera and that BP across from the Super Wal-mart (Remember the damned bags that got this day started?) I rolled in and dropped the kickstand. I naturally carry a can of Fix a Flat, some tire plugs, an assortment of wrenche, pliers screw drivers, extra plugs electrical and duct tape with me (I used to race 4 wheelers cross-country and learned real early that trailside repairs are easier done if you have tools with you).
But there was not a spare tire in my bag. A good chunk of the tread had chosen to leave the rest of the tire making this a replace instead of a repair issue.  The tools were of no use. I sat there and cursed my luck then I realised that my luck was not the factor here. I am probably one of the luckiest S.O.B.s your ever going to run across. I have a bike with zero payments a great family waiting at the house (to laugh at my stupidity for going riding on a 26 yr old bike) I’m 45 and in great health and I managed to break down at an air conditioned store located next to a Waffle House. The only thing to do was pull the sacred cell out and call one of my friends with a trailer.
So the day wasn’t what I had envisioned it to be But it was far far from a loss. Now the only thing to do is to order a tire and track down the elusive carb kit and get ready for the Barbers Superbike races.
Just to observe, not ride in.
The pro riders would protest the old Kaw showing them up.

~Wildh20skier