Putting a motorcycle engine back together is much harder than taking it apart. Staring at the boxes of gears and cams the other day I found my memory beginning to fade, where did this spring go? I figured I better get on with the reassembly because if I waited any longer I wouldn’t remember who left their Husqvarna motorcycle in my shed. The nerve! Reluctantly, I set aside my ongoing concrete projects for a few days and began work on the Husky SMR510.
The crankcases and all internal parts were washed with mineral spirits turning the skin on my hands a nice shade of chalky white. After the mineral spirits a liberal application of Gunk engine degreaser was sprayed into all the nooks and crannies. Then a blast of good, Sunoco rainwater (filtered to 5 microns!) from the garden hose hopefully flushed out any stray bits of metal from the broken transmission. My little 18-volt Ryobi grass blower did a fair job of drying the pieces and laying the stuff out in the warm New Mexican sunshine finished the cleaning process.
Since the old transmission was the part that felled the Husqvarna and I was using a second-hand transmission, I dry fit the transmission and crankcase halves together. Once the gear shafts and shift forks were in their proper positions I spun the shift drum and is seemed like all 6 speeds were selectable.
I think I mentioned in a previous episode of Grind Me A Pound Of Reverse that I didn’t like the gear spacing on the second-hand transmission. The gears didn’t quite line up right. They were offset a couple thousandths of an inch to my eye. Anyway, I went ahead and gooped up the cases with Yamabond4 and with the crankshaft, balancer shaft and gearbox in place, slid the two cases together. They went together easily. Of course nothing is ever really easy, now is it?
I tried to spin the clutch shaft and the transmission was bound up tighter than a (sexual innuendo of your choice). Quickly, before the Yamabond4 had a chance to set I took the cases back apart and cleaned all the goop off the sealing surfaces. This situation needed more study, more than I was willing to give at the time so I gave up and went outside to dig a hole.
The next day I took a look at photos I had made during disassembly. I saw a spacer under the clutch basket and knew this same spacer was now inside the transmission. Turns out I had this spacer on the wrong side of the clutch shaft. This was also why the gears didn’t line up quite right. After relocating the spacer to outboard of the cases and reassembling the transmission, shift forks and then re-gooping the cases and tightening up the mess everything spun freely. This is what I mean by memory fading.
While its transmission might be fragile the Husqvarna has a well-engineered engine. Everything that spins rides on ball bearings; even the shift lever rides on needle bearings. This engine could run without oil for longer than you’d think. At 20,000 miles the valve train showed little wear, the cams were unmarred and the cam chain tensioners were in like-new condition. The whole layout is fairly simple and logical.
The big piston slips into a sleeveless aluminum cylinder bore coated with some sort of magic stuff that still showed hone marks. One area of concern is the base gasket. The gasket set I bought had a paper base gasket and the original was metal. From my experience the SMR510 engine has a lot of crankcase pressure. Hopefully the paper gasket works.
Installing the cylinder head was uneventful; the kit gasket looked like the same metal-sandwich material as the factory gasket. While I had the engine on the bench I checked the valve clearances. They wanted a bit of adjustment and in an amazing stroke of luck swapping the exhaust shims to the intake valves and the intake valve shims to the exhaust brought everything into spec. The fact that both left and right exhaust shims and both left and right intake shims were the same thickness speaks to even wear, careful machining and accurate valve installed-height during factory assembly.
There are a million bits to strapping the engine back into the frame. I put mostly new water hoses on because the kit I bought was missing a few. Since the swing arm was off I dismantled the rising-rate suspension linkage and greased the needle bearings. The forks on the Husky don’t turn sharp at all. To get a bit more steering angle I shortened the fork stops in an attempt to get an inch or two less turning radius. The fork tubes just kiss the plastic gas tank now so I’m maxed out. All in, it took the better part of a day to finish the engine install.
Starting the bike produced a few pops and farts until the fuel injection bled itself out and then the bike fired up! I leaned the Husky onto the side stand, lifting the rear wheel off the ground and ran through the transmission. All 6 gears were present and accounted for.
A quick test ride confirmed that even a stopped clock is right twice a day: I managed to get it back together and the bike runs just like before. Almost. The valve cover gasket is leaking so I’ll have to take a look at that. Total cost for the repair was around $400. My time, of course, was free. That’s $5600 less than a new Suzuki DR650, which was my Plan A when the Husky spit up its guts.
I think the reason for the Husqvarna transmission failing in the first place goes back to the SMR’s roots of being a dirt bike converted to street use. In the conversion process Husky’s engineers failed to put any kind of cushion in the drive train. You don’t really need cushion in the dirt because dirt is never all that grippy.
The crankshaft has a straight-cut gear to the clutch basket, the solid clutch basket has no cushioning springs, and then it’s direct to the transmission gears, to the countershaft sprocket and on to the rear wheel where there are no rubber cushions. The sprocket bolts solidly to the rear hub. Think about that big 500cc piston pounding the gearbox while the bike is on asphalt. The only give in the entire system is the rubber of the rear tire.
Maybe Berk is right: Maybe I just don’t know how to ride a 500cc single. (Note from Berk: I said that?) Seeing how the Husqvarna is built will change my riding style. I’ll let the engine rev a bit more and not lug the thing down to rattle on the gears. I’ll also try to stay on dirt roads whenever possible. Or, maybe it was a fluke. Only time and miles will tell.
Most people think of New Mexico as a barren, desert state. Much of it consists of broad expanses of high, scrabbly bush land. But that’s not nearly all there is here. New Mexico has two mountain ranges running north to south dividing the land into separate areas each with their own style of terrain, east of the Pecos River you’ll find the flat, oil-rich Permian Basin. This area is New Mexico’s Golden Goose that never seems to run out of eggs. The Permian Basin pays a huge amount of taxes to the state coffers. The odor of salt water mixed with oil is everywhere. It makes me a little homesick for the bilges of boats I used to build and repair in Florida.
Moving west from the Pecos River you come to my mountains, the Sacramento Mountains. Tinfiny Ranch lies on the western foothills of the Sacramento Mountains looking out over the Tularosa Valley. At 6000 feet Tinfiny Ranch is both wetter and cooler than the small towns down in the flat lands of the valley 1500 feet below.
Tinfiny Ranch has small trees, maybe 20 feet high and all of the plant life is larger and happier than the small shrubs you find at lower elevations. Within Tinfiny Ranch there are two different ecosystems: the relatively damper lower arroyo area where some idiot decided to put the shack we live in and the higher, just slightly more arid upper area where the off-grid trophy shed sits. The elevation change is only 50 feet but the trees are noticeably larger and the undergrowth denser down by the Arroyo. There’s even a little grassy lawn struggling to survive in the lower reaches.
The upper and lower areas are connected by a steep dirt road that is always in need of repair. Whenever it rains the water cuts deep ruts across and parallel to the road. Monsoon season makes the road 4-wheel drive only. UPS and FedX stop delivering when the road gets too bad. They leave packages by the entrance gate instead of at our door.
Tractor Supply’s County Line Box Blade is just the ticket for grading and smoothing out the ruts in our driveway. Five feet wide, the box blade connects to the 3-point hitch on the back of standard tractors and comes mostly assembled except for a few thick bars of steel that make up the top mount. It’s a heavy chunk of steel and I can only lift one side at a time to move it.
Five depth-adjustable scarifying teeth mounted ahead of the leveling blade allow the box blade to break up hard ground. These teeth will catch roots and rocks and rip them out of the ground making it easier for the following blade to level the area. If you didn’t have the scarifying teeth the blade would just bounce over some obstacles leaving behind an uneven grade.
Tinfiny Ranch has a lot of big rocks from softball size to larger than a shopping cart. Running over one of these big boys will kick the box blade into the air with a loud crash. Some rocks you’ll want to dig out of the ground with a pick and pry bar instead of beating up the box blade.
With the box blade it took just a few hours to straighten out the road leading to the upper level. I’ll need to do some more work on it to fill in some low spots and cut down some high spots but it’s still raining so I don’t get too excited about making it perfect. At some point we will either asphalt the road or pave it with concrete. I’m leaning towards asphalt since I won’t have to do it.
I give the Tractor Supply box blade high marks for its low-ish $1000 price tag and high quality. That seems like a lot of money but try to find a used one. If you manage to it will be a wreck and cost $500. This County Line unit is a well built, heavy tool that will last your lifetime and maybe more. Once you get a box blade you’ll start finding all sort of areas that need leveling. Soon there won’t be a plant standing and your yard will be a broad, featureless plain, like some areas of New Mexico.
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The ExhaustNotes website consumes a lot of content. Berk writes most of it and he’s always up to something interesting. I feel bad that he has to carry the load, but I just don’t have that much to write about. Here in the wilds of New Mexico we spend a lot of time and energy just surviving. Take water, for instance.
Our place has a combination of well water and rainwater. The well supplies the tiny shack we live in and the cistern for rainwater catches ½ of the shed roof runoff. It all worked ok until the well ran dry. Our well is only 85 feet deep and since our land sits at 6000 feet elevation you’ve got to figure the water in the well comes from a trapped source. Maybe there’s a layer of impervious stone or clay at 90 feet. The well was already dug when we bought the place, but the pump was dead.
Colleen and I installed a new pump using the existing piping and we had a reliable supply of water. The well inspector said it was good for 1.5 gallons a minute, which isn’t a lot unless you count the minutes in a day. We have a 40-gallon pressure tank with a pressure switch to turn the pump on and off.
The system worked fine until a month ago when the water stopped flowing. The well was flat out of water. The well guy told me this happens all the time. Maybe someone below me used a lot of water, maybe the well is silted up or maybe wells just go dry after 27 years. To get back in the swim I ran two, 150-foot-long garden hoses to a bib outside of the shack and fed the house from the shed water supply.
We let the well rest for about a week and then tried it. We had water again. Everything was fine until a few days ago when the water ran out again. Obviously, we are going to need a better water supply.
We decided to go with a hybrid, part well water, part rainwater, part purchased water set up. We’re getting a 3000-gallon storage tank that will sit next to the well house. Of course, the new tank will require a concrete slab. During monsoon season I can dump excess water from the shed tank into the lower, 3000-gallon tank. Probably 4 or 5 months of the year we can get by on rain water unless there is a drought.
We’re hoping this will take much of the load off the well and give it a chance to recharge from wherever its water comes from. If we need to we can purchase water. Many homes around here buy water and store it in tanks; they have no well because well drilling is expensive and you pay for the work whether the driller hits water or not. A typical well a few hundred feet deep will run around $30,000. If they hit water the first time.
The new system will require a bit of re-plumbing. Instead of directly feeding the shack the well output will dump into the 3000-gallon storage tank and from there the water will go to a jet type pump to provide pressure to the house. I’m hoping the tank will be a sort of battery to store the well water as I can adjust the well output to a trickle to not outrun the well’s capacity per minute. If we are lucky the slower draw will buy a few more years from our well, if not we may drill another, deeper well.
Using rainwater is way nicer than the mineral-rich stuff we get from the well. Soap makes better suds, sinks and faucets stay cleaner and you don’t get those stalactites of gypsum hanging off the aerators. Bought water comes from a city supply and so has all manner of junk floating around.
Future water infrastructure plans include a second, 2500-gallon tank up at the shed. I lost thousands of gallons this monsoon season due to the single tank being full. It drives me crazy seeing that water spilling onto the ground. Installing another rainwater tank to handle runoff from the Carriage House roof should be good for 3 or 4 thousand gallons during monsoon. One day I will get around to guttering the other half of the shed roof and that should double production from the upper level. If we get enough storage I think we can operate the ranch using just rainwater, giving the old well a much-deserved rest. My job will be to move water from all the different tanks to the main 3000-gallon unit.
And this is why I don’t have much fun stuff to write about lately. Things are falling apart faster than I can fix them. Men were given dominion over the Earth but it’s not an easy task to rule nature. I’m starting to think this ranch living is no country for old men. Maybe one day when we get really old we’ll get a suburban house. I’ll have my own garage door opener or a breakfast nook.
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Some time ago I wrote about ordering a custom Buck folding knife. I’m not a knife guy (many of my friends are). The hook for me was an ad that floated into my inbox. I have a regular Buck 110 (an anniversary edition I bought on sale; it’s the other knife you see in the photo above), but I am the guy that marketing types dream about: Offer a custom feature or two, hit me with an email, and I’m in.
As promised, the lead time was a few weeks. When it arrived, all was not well. All priced out, I was into the custom Buck (complete with elk horn grips) for a little under $200. I liked the look of the elk horn grips, but on my knife the interface between the elk horn natural bark and the bolsters was not good. Some of the undulations in the horn butted up against the bolsters and it looked cheap. I realize the grips are a natural material, but I still didn’t like the fit.
I wrote to Buck, expecting to hear the above as an explanation (i.e., that the grips are natural material), but that wasn’t the case at all. Buck responded the next day. Send the knife back, they said, and we’ll make it right. I did, I had a new knife in about two weeks, and it was perfect. Buck selected a set of grips that had no bark interfacing with the bolsters, and the intersection was line-to-line everywhere on the knife. It is a thing of great beauty.
My custom Buck features included a mirror-polished blade, nickel (instead of brass) bolsters, and the elk horn grips I mentioned. And that blade…wow, it is razor sharp. The first time I closed it, when the blade completed its arc into the handle the tip caught my finger. It was so sharp I didn’t even realize it had cut me. The cut was so clean it healed in only a few days.
There’s more good news to the story. When you get a custom knife like this from Buck, you also get an official-looking certificate of authenticity, a knife case, and a holster. Somehow when I returned the knife for the new grips, I accidentally put all that stuff into the trash (which I only realized after Buck returned my knife). I called Buck and told them what I had done. I wanted the complete Buck custom knife experience, I told the nice lady on the phone, and she told me “no problem.” She shipped another set and it arrived a couple of days later, all at no charge.
All the above notwithstanding, like I said above, I’m not really a knife guy. Even though I have the two Bucks shown in the photos above, I don’t carry either one of them. I have a cheap Chinese copy (and its little brother) I bought at Lowe’s that is the same size and looks almost exactly like the standard Buck 110 folder. Sacrilege, I know.
The Sheffield name is laser engraved on the Chinese copies, but trust me, they are not from England. I think I paid $20 for both of them in a bubble-wrap package a few years ago. Once in a great while I’ll put the smaller one it in my pocket and carry it (even though the package included leather holsters for both), but I can’t remember a single time when I needed it and it was in my pocket. The big one? Its primary duty is opening letters.
If you’re thinking of getting a Buck knife, Amazon is a good place to go. If you’re thinking of an inexpensive Chinese copy, check out Lowe’s.
The Husqvarna is still in a million pieces but those pieces are improving. I received the new-used transmission from eBay and it looks to be in good condition. The seller included a few extra bits like a brace for the starter gears and a well-worn countershaft sprocket. The odd thing is, I bought the gears from a British eBay seller but the transmission was shipped from Latvia. Have I stumbled upon an international motorcycle theft ring that keeps a United Kingdom address for customer assurance but chops the stolen bikes in Latvia? Is it a way to get around the dreaded Value Added Tax?
The transmission fits into the crankcase well and looks exactly the same as the old gear cluster. I used the countershaft shim that came from Latvia but I don’t like the gear spacing so I might try the shim from the old countershaft shim. I’m using the Latvian shift forks and shift drum (the old ones don’t look bad but I suspect may be bent as the bike kept jumping from neutral into gear just pushing it around).
The flywheel puller I ordered that was supposed to fit my year Husqvarna missed it by a few millimeters. I was sent a 26mm but I measure the threaded puller boss at 28mm. Of course the puller would not thread on. I need to get the flywheel off to wash out the crank bearings and case. I have ordered a 28mm puller; hopefully it will fit.
My Harbor Freight parts washer hasn’t been cleaned since 1999 and had a ½-inch layer of greasy muck in the bottom. The goal is to not make the parts less polluted, not more. I scraped the gunk out and cleaned the parts washer. It was time, really. The solvent pump was not working and the plastic pump’s hose bard had broken just from sitting. I have looked online for a replacement pump but can’t find an exact fit. I don’t feel like modifying a different pump right now so I decided to wash the bits the old fashioned way: a stiff brush and bucket of mineral spirits.
As I clean the parts I stack them in order inside a nice, lidded, plastic box to keep dust and cat hair off of them until ready to reinstall. I use blue masking tape to keep the bolts for each component together. This saves you from having to figure out which bolt went where later on. Lots of junk came off the parts and I had to refresh the mineral spirit bucket frequently.
My buddy Deet thinks the world of Yamabond sealant so I ordered a small tube of Number 4 to seal the crankcase halves. I would have used Huskybond 3 but couldn’t find any for sale. My plan is to dry fit the crankcase halves together and test the shifting of the transmission, You need both sides to test the transmission properly otherwise the gears bind and push the shift fork shafts around. After I’m sure the thing shifts ok I’ll pull it apart and apply the sealer for final assembly.
I received the top end gasket set from eBay. It only took two days! I haven’t checked to see if they are the right ones but they look ok in the package, what could go wrong? The gasket set was pricy at $45 but is very complete with all the o-rings and rubber parts along with valve stem seals and the gaskets.
I’m not making rapid progress on the Husqvarna. I spend a lot of my time wondering at a blade of grass or being amazed by the sky revolving around above my head. Still, I’m more confident than ever that the Husky will tear up the trails once again. Now I just need that 28mm puller.
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This blog is longer than I intended it to be. I thought I would just do a quick bit about a new set of Lee reloading dies I recently purchased, but as I got into it, I learned more about my Colt Python, crimping with a bullet seating die versus a dedicated factory crimp die, and well, the thing just grew. Mea culpa; you can leave early if you want to. Because this is a longer-than usual post, I thought I’d provide the bottom line up front: The Lee factory crimp die is a good thing. It works. It holds bullets in place better, it improves chambering, and it improves accuracy.
Now, the rest of the story.
For the last umpteen years when loading .38 Special or .357 Magnum ammo I have been using a kluged-up three die set (a carbide resizer/decapper from Dillon, an expander die from Lee, and a bullet seating and roll crimping die from Lee). You can use the same dies for both .38 Special and .357 Magnum; the only difference between the two cartridges is the length of the cartridge case. They use the same diameter bullets (even though it’s called a .38 Special, the bullet diameter of a .38 is actually .357 to .358 inches, just like the .357 Magnum).
The two cartridges on the left are .357 Magnum; the one on the right is a .38 Special. The .357 cartridge case is longer so it cannot be inadvertently inserted into a handgun chambered for .38 Special. Note the slightly longer overall cartridge length on the .357 Magnum cartridge on the left (with the cast bullet) compared to the .357 Magnum cartridge in the middle (with the jacketed bullet).A mixed set of dies I’ve been using for years for reloading .357 Magnum and .38 Special. Note the Lee shellholder marked “1.” .38 Special used to be the most commonly reloaded cartridge in America. Today it’s 9mm. .38 Special was the first cartridge I ever reloaded. The die on the right is the bullet seating and crimping die.
Reloading Gear
I’ve had a few .38/.357 die sets over the years, selling them when convenient as I bought or inherited other equipment. As featured here on the ExNotes blog, I have a 50-year-old Star reloader I use for .38 Special wadcutter ammo (I’ll give you a link for the Star story at the end of this blog). The Star is set up to meter 2.7 grains of Bullseye propellant (that’s a 148-grain wadcutter target load) and it works fabulously well, so it’s a dedicated setup. For all other .38 Special and for .357 Magnum reloading, I load with my RCBS Rockchucker single-stage press. I’ve been using it for 50 years.
My Star progressive reloader. A good buddy gave this to me in rundown, funky, and long-neglected condition. I cleaned it, lubed it, and put in back in service. The Star does a fantastic job on .38 Special wadcutter ammo.Old Faithful, my RCBS Rockchucker single stage press. I load non-wadcutter .38 Special ammo and all .357 Magnum ammo on this press.
Bullet Seating and Crimping
For many years, I seated and crimped my bullets with a simple seating and crimping die. It’s what you see in the illustration below.
I use this die in two steps. First, I screw the bullet seating adjuster deep into the die and seat the bullet to the correct cartridge overall length without crimping the bullet in place. After seating all the bullets, I then back off on the bullet seating adjuster so that it no longer contacts the bullet, and then I screw the die body deeper into the press. The die body has a roll crimping feature that then roll forms a crimp around the case mouth to lock the bullet to the cartridge case.
Lee has an alternative approach for bullet crimping they call the factory crimp die. As a first step, you seat the bullet to the desired depth in the case using the die shown above. After seating all the bullets, you then remove the bullet seating and crimping die from the press and then use the fourth die (the factory crimp die). Here’s what the factory crimp die looks like:
The fourth die, the factory crimp die, does not seat the bullet. Its only function is to apply the crimp, and it does this very well. The idea is that the die is screwed all the way into the press such that it contacts the shellhoder, and then the amount of crimp is set up with the crimp adjuster, which screws into the die body. This die applies a roll crimp on a revolver cartridge (the same kind of crimp as the bullet seating and crimping die described above), but it does so in a much better-controlled manner. The factory crimp die also has a secondary carbide sizer/aligning ring at its lower end, which aligns the cartridge as it enters the case, and holds the cartridge outside diameter to specification values as the cartridge enters and then exits the die. It works fabulously well, and Lee states that this die makes it impossible to buckle a case.
I had .357 Magnum ammo I had previously loaded using the bullet seating and crimping die only (not the Lee factory crimp die), and it chambered with no problem in my Ruger Blackhawk. The Colt Python has a tighter chamber, though, and several of these older reloads would not chamber in the Python. A quick trip through the Lee factory crimp die cleaned up the outside diameters and the rounds chambered easily.
Before and after shots of older .357 loads I reloaded using the bullet seating and crimping die. Some wouldn’t chamber in the tighter Python. The Lee factory crimp die fixed that.
Lee’s Deluxe 4-Die Set
I recently ordered a new Ruger Blackhawk, and I’ve written many times about my Colt Python. With my new .357 Magnum Blackhawk in its 10-day cooling off period, I thought I would get a new set of dies. I like Lee (they give you a shellholder, they are inexpensive, and they do a good job). I had bent the decapping pin on the Dillon sizing die in my mixed set of dies shown above (a primer wouldn’t come out and I forced it). I was able to bend the pin straight, but I figured a man of my stature ought to have a set of grownup new dies. Then I got an email from MidwayUSA showing the Lee 4-die set on sale for $53 and they had free shipping on orders over $49. The Lee Deluxe set includes the factory crimp die. All the planets were in alignment (enter order, buy now…you know the drill). The dies were at my front door a few days later.
The new Lee 4-die Deluxe Set was well packaged by Midway.The Lee dies in my new die set.The Lee Deluxe 4-die set includes a carbidge sizing die and decapper (the die on the far right), a cartridge expander and case mouth flaring die (on the far left), a bullet seating and roll crimping die (second from the right), and the Lee factory crimp die (second from the left). Lee also provides a shell holder and power dispensing spoon. I’ve never used the powder dispensing spoon; I use an RCBS powder dispenser.
The new dies looked great, and I was eager to put them to work.
Bullet Pull and Cylinder Rotation
On revolvers with significant recoil, bullets can back out of the cartridge case when other rounds in the cylinder are fired. This can allow bullets on unfired cartridges to protrude beyond the cylinder face and interfere with cylinder rotation. We prevent this by controlling the reloaded cartridges’ overall length and by crimping. In firing my new Colt Python with ammo I had loaded for an earlier Ruger Blackhawk, even though the bullets were crimped I experienced bullet pull beyond the front of the cylinder. When this occurred, the cylinder would not rotate. These same rounds had worked in a Ruger Blackhawk.
In analyzing the cylinder rotation issue on my new Python, I found several things:
The bullets were not seated deep enough (the cartridge overall length exceeded the maximum spec of 1.590 inches), even though the bullets were crimped in their crimping groove.
The crimp wasn’t strong enough to hold the bullets in place. Under recoil from other cartridges, the bullets were backing out.
The Python cylinder is slightly shorter than the Ruger Blackhawk cylinder. I probably had the same bullet pull occurring on the Blackhawk, but the Blackhawk’s longer cylinder masked it. They might have been backing out on the Ruger and I didn’t know it.
Cartridge Overall Length
Let’s dive into the numbers. The reloading manuals show the .357 Magnum maximum cartridge overall length (COAL) to be 1.590 inches. With my cast bullets crimped in their crimping groove, the overall length was running from 1.607 to 1.615 inches. That put them about even with the front of the Python cylinder. If any bullet pull occurred under recoil, the front of the bullet would hit the rear of the forcing cone and the cylinder wouldn’t rotate. That’s what I experienced with my Python.
The Ruger New Model .357 Blackhawk has a longer cylinder than the Python. The Ruger cylinder is 1.640 inches long. The Internet says the Python cylinder length is 1.552 inches; mine measures 1.553 (which is close enough). Right away, the astute ExNotes blog reader will recognize that the Colt’s cylinder (at 1.552 inches) appears to be shorter than the specification .357 Magnum cartridge maximum overall length (1.590 inches), but it is not. When loaded in the cylinder the cartridge is held rearward by its rim, which sits flush against the back end of the cylinder.
The Python, like most revolvers, headspaces on the cartridge rim. The cartridge rim is 0.060 inches thick.
The .357 Magnum cartridge rim backs the cartridge up 0.060 inches (the rim thickness), which would put the leading edge of the bullet in a cartridge loaded to an overall length of 1.590 inches about 0.023 inches inside the front edge of the cylinder (if I’ve done the math correctly). And I think I have, because when you look at cartridges in the Python cylinder, they are pretty close to the edge of those big .357 cylinder holes. 0.023 inches. Twenty-three thousandths of an inch. That’s not much to play with.
.357 Magnum cartridges loaded in the Python cylinder. At the cartridge’s specified max overall length of 1.590 inches, the front of the bullet is only 0.023 inches away from the forward cylinder face.
Bullet Design and Crimp Location
I examined the bullets I was using. I had crimped my cast bullets in the crimping groove, and I could see that the crimping groove put the bullet face very close to the forward end of the Python’s cylinder. I couldn’t seat the cast bullets any deeper and still crimp in their crimping groove. Hornady’s jacketed 158-grain bullets are no problem; their crimping groove is a lot higher on the bullet.
A 158-grain Hornady jacketed hollow point bullet on the left, and a cast 158-grain bullet on the right. Note how much higher the crimping groove is on the jacketed bullet. This lowers the bullet in the cartridge case when it is crimped, making the cartridge shorter.Two .357 Magnum cartridges with crimped bullets. The cast bullet cartridge on the right has the bullet seated as low as it can go while still allowing a crimp. You can see that the cast bullet cartridge is longer than the cartridge with the jacketed bullet.
Test Objectives
I wanted to test bullets seated and crimped using both approaches (i.e., the bullet seating and crimping die, versus seating with the bullet seating die and crimping separately with the Lee factory crimp die). My testing would evaluate the following:
Bullet movement under recoil.
Accuracy.
Ease of chambering.
The ability to get a good crimp in locations other than the crimping groove.
That last one is important, because as I learned with my Python, crimping some cast bullet configurations in the crimping groove makes the cartridge too long.
Test Ammo
I loaded three test lots. The first was with 15.7 grains of Winchester 296 powder, Winchester small pistol magnum primers, and Hornady’s 158-grain jacketed hollow point bullets. That was my accuracy load when shooting metallic silhouette a few decades ago, so I know it works well. I loaded half with the bullets crimped using the old Lee bullet seating and crimping die (not the factory crimp die), and the other half with the bullets crimped with my new Lee factory crimp die (after seating them with the bullet seating die).
.357 Magnum ammo with 158-grain Hornady jacketed hollowpoint bullets. The 25 on the right were crimped with the bullet seating die; the 25 on the left were crimped with the Lee factory crimp die.A macro photograph of the ammo above. The Lee factory crimp due cartridge is on the left; the bullet crimped with the bullet seating die is on the right.
The second lot of ammo was a group I had loaded several years ago. This ammo had 158-grain cast semi-wadcutter bullets crimped in the crimping groove, 7.0 grains of Unique, and Winchester small pistol primers. That load (7.0 grains of Unique and a 158-grain cast bullet) has been accurate in every .357 revolver I’ve ever shot. I loaded this ammo with the bullet seating and crimping die (not the Lee factory crimp die). I’d shot tons of this load in an older Ruger Blackhawk, but I had not tried it yet in my Python.
.357 Magnum ammo with cast 158-grain semi-wadcutter bullets crimped in their crimping groove. This ammo worked fine in the Ruger Blackhawk, but it had issues in the Colt Python. Although crimped in the crimping groove, this ammo was longer than the .357 Magnum’s 1.590-inch maximum cartridge overall length.
The third ammo lot was similar to the one above (same bullet weight and powder), but I used the cast truncated flat point bullet and I crimped above the bullet’s crimping groove using the Lee factory crimp die. I wanted to get the bullet further back from the cylinder face to prevent cylinder rotation inteference if the bullets pulled under recoil. My concern was that I would be crimping above the crimping groove, on the bullet’s main diameter, and I didn’t know if the crimp would hold the bullet in place.
The cast 158-grain truncated flat point bullet crimped above the crimping groove. This shortens the cartridge overall length. I seated these to 1.565 inches overall length. After crimping, that figure came back up back up to 1.568 inches, still well below the 1.590-inch maximum length spec.The above .357 cartridges in the Python cylinder crimped with the Lee factory crimp die above the crimping groove. These rounds were loaded to an overall cartridge length of 1.568 inches (as shown above), which positions the front of the bullets further back from the cylinder face.
When loading with my new Lee Deluxe 4-die set, I noticed immediately that the resizing operation was much easier. The same was true for the expander die step. Maybe the older dies I had been using were just dirty, but I sure like do the feel of these Lee Deluxe dies.
Some of you may wonder: Why not just trim the brass shorter to a below-spec length? That would move the bullet back, and if I trimmed it short enough it would allow me to crimp these cast bullets in their crimping groove and not risk any cylinder rotation interference. Yeah, I could have done that, but when I trim brass I like to trim it to specification, not something below spec. And I don’t want to have to segregate brass based on trimmed length tied to specific firearms.
Test Results: Bullet Movement
The first test objective was to determine how much bullet movement occurs during recoil using the two different crimping approaches. Here’s how I tested:
I loaded 5 rounds in the revolver.
I took a 6th round and recorded its cartridge overall length, and then I loaded it.
I fired the first five cartridges.
I removed the unfired 6th round and measured the overall length again.
Here’s what I found in assessing the two crimping approaches’ ability to prevent bullet pull:
The results surprised me. The Lee factory crimp die, even when done on the main diameter of the bullet (not in the crimping groove) does a better job holding the bullet in place than does crimping with the bullet seating die. In each test in which the bullets were crimped with the bullet seating die, they experienced recoil-induced bullet movement. That one entry where the overall length decreased by 0.001 inch is probably measurement error on my part.
Test Results: Accuracy
This testing was straightforward. I fired a series of 5-round groups at 50 feet to assess any differences in accuracy.
Here’s what I see in the above results:
With the Hornady jacketed hollow point points, using the Lee factory crimp die resulted in an improvement in accuracy (the group average was 1.637 inches compared to 1.934 inches).
The Hornady jacketed hollow point bullets were more accurate than the cast bullets. That was an expected result.
With the cast bullets, there isn’t much of an accuracy difference between using the bullet seating and crimping die versus using the bullet seating die and then the Lee factory crimp die.
With the cast bullets, there wasn’t much of an accuracy difference between the truncated flat point bullets and the semi-wadcutter bullets.
I wasn’t having my best range day ever (I had a bad cold when I fired these groups). But I think I did well enough to support the above conclusions.
Test Results: Ease of Chambering
I already mentioned this. Lee claims that the factory crimp die will not buckle or distort the case during crimping. My results confirm this. A few rounds that had been crimped with the bullet seating die would not chamber in the Python; after running these through the Lee factory crimp die, they chambered easily. The Lee factory crimp die does a better job for ease of chambering.
Test Results: Crimping Without a Crimp Groove
This is really a subset of the first test objective, in which we evaluated the ability of the Lee factory crimp die to hold bullets in place under recoil. Here, the focus is more specific: I crimped on the bullet’s main diameter, not in the crimping groove, and I wanted to determine if the Lee factory crimp die would secure the bullet in place. As you can see from the data above, it did. When I crimped the cast truncated flat point bullets forward of the crimping groove, they did not move under recoil. The Lee factory crimp die did this well, and it did so without buckling the cartridge case.
The Bottom Line
The Lee factory crimp die is a good thing. It holds bullets in place better, it improves chambering, and with jacketed bullets, it improves accuracy.
If you want to buy a set a Lee dies, or the Lee factory crimp die, or any Lee reloading equipment, Amazon is a good place to shop. Midway is, too. But I usually go to Amazon first.
If you have comments, be sure to let us know in the comments section below. We enjoy hearing from you.
In the first episode of Grind Me A Pound Of Reverse I contemplated buying a Suzuki DR650 and leaning the broken down Husqvarna SMR510 on the side of the shed to bleach in the harsh New Mexico sunlight. Suzuki DR650s are as stone axe simple as you can make a motorcycle today. They are air-cooled, carbureted, have zero electronic widgets (except for ignition) and cost around $6000 for a 2022 model. I’d have to sell a few of my clunkers to fund the DR but it’s the sensible thing to do.
The thing is, the Husky is such a fun bike to ride I thought I’d take a poke at fixing its transmission woes. The Husqvarna crankcase is a vertically split unit which is easier to manufacture but means the entire engine must be dismantled to access the gearbox. In my case this is not a big deal because when a gearbox explodes you have to clean out all the microscopic and not so microscopic bits of metal.
The SMR510 frame is wrapped tightly around its engine and a lot of stuff has to be dismantled to get the lump out into the open. With long-travel suspension causing wide variations in chain tension its best to keep the swing arm pivot as close to the countershaft sprocket as possible. On the SMR the pivot bolt goes through the back of the engine and that means the swing arm has to come off. In addition, the radiators, fuel injection body, EMS and other body parts must be removed also. It took me about 4 hours to finally free the Husky’s engine but I don’t work fast.
I have no shop manual for this bike so with the engine on the bench the first thing I did was rotate the engine to top dead center-compression stroke in order to find the cam timing marks. The Husky has a cam chain that spins an idler gear; the idler gear then spins the two overhead cams. Each cam has a small dot that lines up with the outside gasket surface of the head. The idler gear has three markings, the center mark is two dots and these dots line up with a mark on the cylinder head.
I also put an additional punch mark on the crankcase and alternator rotor to make finding top dead center less subjective. The Husky’s timing looks pretty easy to do so I’m sure I’ve got it all wrong and the valves will bend the first time I try to start the engine.
Next I removed the cam caps. The cam caps were secured by these allen-head bolts and they were so tight the heads rounded out on three of them. I had to use a flat chisel to knock the bolts loose so I’ll need to get replacements from the hardware store. The head bolts are 10mm allen-type and deeply recessed so once the cams were out of the way I had to cut a 10mm allen wrench to make a long reach socket. The head bolts didn’t round out.
One of the reasons the Husqvarna 510 engine doesn’t last long is the slipper piston. This type of piston is pretty much a racing piston and has so much cut away there is only a narrow skirt to take side loading and a limited surface area for an oil film. The valve train is state of the coil-spring art: long, skinny valves at a narrow angle to give an almost flat-top combustion chamber.
The Husky incorporates small finger-rocker followers to remove valve-stem side loading. The cam lobes swipe across the followers, not directly on the valves. This set up adds a bit of weight to the valve train but the Husky revs to 10,000 rpm without valve float so I’m not going to worry about weight. A nifty feature is the spring-metal separator clip that can be removed from the rocker arm shafts, which will allow the finger rocker to slide over giving access to the valve shims. This means you don’t have to remove the cams to adjust valve clearance.
Splitting the cases was a fairly straightforward operation except for the shift drum. I managed to get the thing apart but still haven’t figured out how the shift drum is held into the right crankcase half. I got pretty frustrated and gave it a few whacks but it didn’t budge. I’ll study the situation after I calm down.
This is what was causing the racket. A couple gears are missing teeth and who knows what other unseen damage to the cluster was done as the bits of hard metal flew around inside? The shift forks may be bent because the bike wouldn’t stay in neutral and kept going into gear when i pushed it around the shop. I decided to get a used gearbox and replace the entire transmission.
The 2008 Husky SMR510 is one of the last Husqvarna’s with a tangible connection to the original Swedish manufacturer. Employees from old Husqvarna operated the company that built my bike. They purchased the name and relocated manufacturing to Italy. Cold, icy Sweden or warm, sunny Italy, who wouldn’t move? Shortly after my bike was built Husqvarna was sold to BMW and the bikes became re-badged BMWs. This only lasted a few years until KTM bought Husqvarna from BMW and the bikes became re-badged KTMs.
So parts are sort of hard to find. I located this complete TE510 (the enduro version of my bike) transmission in England for $285. Shipping was expensive but it’s a long way to Old Blighty and probably one gear would cost $100 if I bought it new. Hopefully it will fit.
EBay also had a top end gasket set for fairly cheap so I have that kit on the way. The case halves are sealed with goop, no gasket needed. The side cover gasket and alternator gasket came away without tearing so being ever thrifty I can reuse those gaskets.
I’ll have to do a thorough job of cleaning out the transmission debris inside the engine and whenever this stuff arrives I’ll try to reassemble the mess. ExhaustNotes will have up to date information as this project moves forward. Even if the Husky manages to run again I still might buy that DR650.
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September is one of the finer months for motorcycle riding in New Mexico. The daily monsoon rains begin to ease off in September. The trails remain slightly damp so dust isn’t bad and the Carrizozo Mud Chuckers and I can run a tight formation on New Mexico’s many dirt roads. The hot summer temperatures have faded away with the peek-a-boo, pre-fall weather allowing for cool morning rides and warm daytime riding.
These perfect days and these perfect times call for a long dirt loop from White Oaks to Claunch then south to Highway380. My morning Husqvarna ride to Carrizozo was glorious, just cool enough to create a little chill in my mesh jacket but not cool enough to cause discomfort. You know that feeling when everything is all right?
After a short gab session with the Mud Chuckers we gassed up at the Allsups station and headed north towards White Oaks. We traveled a half-mile when something started making a racket in the rear wheel of the Husqvarna. It sounded like I had run over a length of barbed wire and the wire was wrapped around the wheel. This happens more often than you would think in New Mexico. I pulled over but couldn’t see anything in the wheel so I started out again.
The noise was worse, like maybe the chain was jumping teeth on the sprocket. I turned into a convenient historical marker parking area and gave the chain a good look. Nothing seemed out of order. The Mud Chuckers had turned around and pulled into the historical marker lay-by. Mike asked me, “What’s the problem?” I told them I didn’t know but it sounds bad.
We tipped the bike onto its side stand and started the engine. Running through the gears made a hell of a racket, at times the engine would bind up and almost stall. Eddie said that at least it made it further than last time (referring to a past event when the Husky blew out a rubber plug and pumped most all the hot engine oil onto my right pant leg).
When I bought the Husqvarna 14 years ago I remember reading in the Husky Café forums about how the 510 engine was only good for 20,000 miles. I figured those were racing miles and I would not be pounding on the bike like most motocross or Supermoto racers. Turns out those Husky Café estimates were not far off.
It was still a perfect day. I called CT and asked her to come get me in the pickup. She asked if this was the same bike that broke down last time. “Yes,” I said, “except a little past where you picked me up before.” The Mud Chuckers chatted with me for a while and I sent them on their way. No sense in everyone missing out on a perfect riding day.
When we got the bike home I removed the oil drain plug and large chunks of gear teeth were attached to the drain plug magnet. This was not good news. I asked CT to cancel the Husky’s insurance because it will be a while before I get around to fixing the thing.
The Husky, having a vertically split crankcase, will require a complete teardown to clean out the debris and replace the broken transmission gear/gears. That’s if I can even find the parts. My Husky is from Italy, two generations removed from KTM, the new owner of Husqvarna. The closest thing to my bike is a SWM 500. SWM bought all the tooling and production rights from the remains of the Italian crew and that bike uses the same engine as my Husky; hopefully, the gearbox is the same.
My other bikes are a mess. Sometimes I want to sell all this junk and buy a brand new Suzuki DR650. I’ve got to get the Z1 carbs put back on the bike. They are mostly together; I just need two new fuel tees. The ZRX1100 needs just about everything as it has been sitting for 8 years now. The KLR250 runs crappy and its carb needs cleaning, but I’m not going to take it apart until I get the Z1 carbs back together.
The funny part about all this is that the only bikes I have left running are two 50-year-old Yamaha two-strokes. “It’s a Better Machine” indeed. And you know what? That’s just fine by me because nothing can spoil these perfect days.
Imagine an electric motorcycle that doesn’t look dorky, one that looks like a an ADV bike, with a fit and finish rivaling anything in the world. Before you go all “Ahm a real ‘Murican and yer not” on me, I’m here to tell you this: You don’t have to imagine this motorcycle. It’s real and I rode it. It’s quick and it feels light, and the thing handles. And yes, it’s from China. If that gets your shorts in a knot, move along…there’s nothing for you here.
The bike is the new RX1E from CSC Motorcycles in Azusa, and it’s manufactured by Zongshen. That’s Zongshen, as in million-motorcycles-annually Zongshen. I’ve ridden Zongshen motorcycles all over Colombia, all over China, all over Baja, and all over America, and I’ve been in their factories many times. You may know a guy who’s cousin worked for a guy who thinks Chinese bikes are no good; my knowledge is more of a first-hand-actual-experience sort of thing.
The RX1E looks a lot like an RX3. It’s got the ADV style. I think it is an exceptionally attractive motorcycle. Some folks may wonder why the bike is styled like an ADV bike. Hey, it has to be styled like something. The ADV style has good ergos and good carrying capacity, so why not use that as the styling theme? Just to check, I parked it in front of Starbuck’s, you know, like the big kids do with their BMWs, and it worked just fine.
The motorcycle has an 8 kilowatt motor (with 18.5 kilowatt at peak power), but the kilowatt thing for an electric motorcycle is misleading. This motorcycle is quick. I opened it up getting on the freeway and the bike blew through 70 mph before I realized it. It had more left, but I ran out of space. It’s silent, and you hit speeds you don’t mean to because there’s no noise to go with the acceleration. Think of it as the opposite of a Harley: No noise at all, and lots of acceleration.
It’s not going to be inexpensive, but it’s inexpensive compared to other electric motorcycles. CSC is going to sell a lot of these.
The time for a full recharge, per the CSC folks, is 6 hours. CSC opted for a more powerful charger to get the recharge time down.
It comes with a full set of luggage, crashbars, a windshield, and a cool dash. You can fit a full face helmet in the tail pack.
The RX1E is water cooled. Yep, you read that right. The Zongshen wizards use water cooling with a radiator to keep motor temps down.
The dash is cool, and you can change the color theme. I liked it. It was a little difficult to read in sunlight, but CSC tells me that will be corrected by the time the bikes are released for sale in a few months (I rode the first one to arrive in America).
The bike has three modes: Eco, Comfort, and Sport. Eco saves energy, Comfort is kind of in the middle, and Sport gives snappier acceleration. Think of Goldilocks and the Three Bears.
Switchology is superior, in my opinion. Here’s a peek at the left and right sides. Yep, there’s cruise control, reverse, mode setting, high beam and low beam, the horn, turn signals, a park position, and a kill switch. It’s a logical, well thought out, and quality presentation.
The bike doesn’t have that squirt out from under you feeling that other electric bikes have off a dead stop. CSC’s City Slicker had a little bit of that. The Zero I rode a couple years ago had way too much of it…so much so I found the Zero difficult to ride. The RX1E is much more rider friendly.
The bike has disk brakes front and back and ABS. There are cast aluminum wheels. The final drive is via belt. There’s no messy chain, nothing to oil, and it’s quiet. I like it.
The fit and finish are awesome. It’s as good as anything I’ve seen on any motorcycle anwhere in the world. The one I rode was red (it’s the one you see in the pictures here). I saw a Harley chopper and stopped to ask the owner if I could shoot a photo of the the RX1E next to it. He was good to go, and I grabbed the shot you see below.
The RX1E ergonomics felt perfect to me. The seat is comfortable, the reach to the bars was perfect, and I could put both feet flat on the ground.
CSC shows the bike’s weight to be 469 pounds, but it felt way lighter to me. That might be because the weight is down low on this bike. Or maybe I’m just used to my Enfield, which feels way heavier. Whatever it is, the bike feels light. The RX1E has high flickability.
The lack of any noise takes some getting used to. It was unnerving at intersections. On an internal combustion engine motorcycle, the noise makes you at least think other people can hear you. The silence of an electric motorcycle makes you wonder if they see you. Maybe that’s a good thing; it made me even more of a defensive rider than I normally am.
There’s no shifting, and because of that there’s no clutch and no shift lever. Oddly, the lack of any need to shift felt perfectly natural. Not having a clutch lever on the left handlebar when coming to a stop takes a little getting used to.
The bike has a reverse. It doesn’t need one. It felt so light and the seat is so low that backing up the old-fashioned way is easy…you know, sitting on the bike and using your legs to back it up a hill. Yep, I did it.
The turning radius is delightfully tight. I don’t have a spec for this, but I can tell you that u-turns in one-lane alleys are easy. I know because I did it.
CSC tells me the range is about 80 miles, although the spec below says 112 miles. I haven’t tested the bike for range like I did on the City Slicker because I only played around in town for an hour or so. Good Buddy TK, the sales dude at CSC (who may be the world’s only sales guy who never stretches the truth), has been commuting back and forth to work on the bike and he tells me the 80-mile range is real.
The RX1E impressed me greatly. If reading this blog gives you the impresssion that I really like the RX1E, I’ve done my job as a writer. CSC and Zongshen have hit a home run here. Zongshen’s engineering talent and CSC’s ability to see what the US market wants is impressive.
Spoiler alert: Knowing people in high places has its advantages. I used to be a consultant for CSC, and CSC advertises on the ExNotes site. But that hasn’t influenced what you’re reading here. My friendship with the CSC owners got me an early ride on the RX1E (a scoop, so to speak) and a chance to see the specs before anyone else, which we’re sharing here. They’ll be on the CSC website today or tomorrow.
CSC RX1E Specifications
Motor: Liquid-cooled permanent-magnet Peak Power: 24 hp (18.5kW) Torque: 61.2 lb-ft (83Nm) Battery: Lithium-ion 96-volt, 64Ah Battery Capacity: 6.16kWh Charger: 110-volt Input Current: 15A Range: 112 miles based on New European Driving Cycle (NEDC) Frame: Tubular steel Rake & Trail: 27°, 74mm Wheelbase: 55.5 inches (1400mm) Front Suspension: 37mm inverted telescopic fork, 4.7 inches travel, adjustable for rebound damping Rear Suspension: Monoshock, 4.3 inches travel, adjustable spring preload and rebound damping Front Brake: Two-piston caliper, 265mm disc Rear Brake: Single-piston caliper, 240mm disc Wheels: 17-inch aluminum Tires: 100/80-17 front; 120/80-17 rear Length: 82.2 inches (2090mm) Width: 34.0 inches (865mm) Height: 47.4 inches (1205mm) Seat Height: 30.9 inches (780mm) Ground Clearance: 6.0 inches (150mm) Curb Weight: 436.5 pounds (198kg); 469 lb with luggage and crash bars Max Load: 331 lb (150kg) Top Speed: 75+ mph Colors: Crimson Red Metallic, Honolulu Blue Metallic and Silver Moon Metallic Price: $8,495 (plus $410 dealer prep, documentation, and road testing fees) and if you order the bike now, CSC is offering $500 off with delivery in Spring 2023
On a recent secret mission to southeastern Colorado, the rental car agency at Denver International Airport was down to Nissans. I hate Nissans, and I asked the rental car dude if anything else was available. “Just a couple of Jeep Wranglers,” said dude responded. Hmmm. I always thought it might be cool to have a Jeep. I could pretend I was Joe Gresh.
Yours truly, looking like Rambo (or maybe Joe Gresh) in the Denver International Airport rental car plaza.
“I’m in,” I said, and I was in in my very own Jeep Wrangler of the two-door turbocharged four persuasion. Short. Choppy. Uncomfortable. Gas guzzling. But a lot of fun. Gresh, I get it. I want one. Not enough to buy one, but enough to rent one again.
There’s a turbocharged 4-banger somewhere in there.
You can buy a Jeep with four engines this year:
The standard V-6 3.6 liter
The same V-6 with an electronic motor hybrid deal (it sounds on the Jeep site like it’s not an Al Gore eco thing, but more of an assist for rock crawling).
A turbocharged smaller four-banger (a price delete option, which is a nice way of saying it’s an option that lowers the price of the new Jeep).
A 392-cubic-inch hemi. Just for grins I looked for a dealer online that had one of these $80K hemi Jeeps in stock, and I found one. It’s an $88K Jeep that gets 17 mpg on the highway and 13 in the city. Here in the People’s Republik, gas is well over $6.00 per gallon. Filling up my Subaru cost $95.12 yesterday.
My rental car had the turbo four banger and it still sucked fuel like a politician seeking campaign donations. At first I thought it was not going to be so bad because the instrument info center said I was averaging over 20 miles per gallon, but when I got out on the freeway at 77 mph it said my instant fuel economy was in the “you’ve got to be kidding me” category. That little 4-banger was actually doing worse than what Jeep claimed the 392 Hemi would get.
My istantaneous fuel economy at the time I took this photo was 16 mpg. That was on cruise control at 77 mph. I never could get back to this screen.
I suppose I might as well get the negative stuff out of the way first. For starters, fuel economy was atrocious. But then, folks don’t buy Wranglers for their fuel economy. And on that subject, I found that switching between screens to get the fuel economy info was tricky…tricky enough that I couldn’t find my way back to the instant fuel economy screen. Maybe the Jeep genies thought I didn’t need to know. Some things are better left unsaid, I suppose.
Another negative, which is maybe a positive, is that my Jeep felt gangly to me. Not as in tattoos and gats, but as in unsteady on its feet and ready to tip over (think of me putting my pants on in the morning and you’ll get the picture). Part of that was due to the Jeep’s height and its extremely tight turning radius (small steering wheel inputs made for huge course corrections, and on the freeway steering that barn door at nearly 80 mph it was all a bit unsettling). On a dirt road, though, K turns become a thing of the past. This thing can turn on a dime and give you nine cents change. It can make a U-turn on a two lane road.
Monster fobs. Hard to lose. Easy to inadvertently activate.
The key fobs were huge, and I guess that’s okay, but I found I was unlocking the Wrangler or setting off the panic alarm damn near every time I put the key fobs in my pocket, or if I stuck my hand in my pocket to get my chapstick or anything else.
Cargo space? As the Sopranos might say, fuhgeddaboutit. The rental car dude folded the rear bench seat up, but it wouldn’t stay up, and even when it did, there really wasn’t any room for my gear. You’re not going to be taking a lot of stuff with you in a two-door Wrangler. That pretty much killed it for me as a rifle range car. I wouldn’t be able to get all my shooting gear in there.
Wind noise is another issue. Oddly, it didn’t bother me when I was driving, even at freeway speeds. But no one could hear or understand me on a Bluetooth telephone conversation. Two folks gave up altogether and just hung up. Maybe that’s a good thing.
Seriously? This is the kind of fit and finish we get on an American legend, a descendent of the vehicle that helped us win World War II?
One last point…although the overall build quality seemed to be pretty good, Jeep lost me from a quality perspective with the fuel filler cap fit. It looks like the production tolerances were either not met or they were assigned by an AutoCad jockey who went to the Doris Day school of mechanical design.
The good news? Well, the good news is that there’s lots of good news. I fell in love with my Jeep. It was cool and I felt cool driving it. And even though it was tall enough to make getting in and out difficult, I knew almost immediately I’d be renting one on my next secret mission. I don’t need the Aston Martin and its machine guns, smoke dispensers, and ejection seat. For my secret missions, I want a Jeep.
Man, that Jeep was fun. Once I got over the difference in feel between it and a regular car, I felt invincible. Seriously. I mean, I’m a 71-year-old Jewish kid from New Jersey with a different doctor for damn near every organ in my body, but I still felt invincible in my Wrangler. I was driving directly into a Colorado hailstorm east of the Rocky Mountains at close to 80 mph, but I was in a Jeep. Gresh, I get it. It’s a power thing.
I am Rambo. Bring it on.
After the hail passed and I was back on the road, I found another plus: The headlights actually lit up the road, even on low beam, and that’s something I had not experienced in any rental car in a while.
Imagine that: Headlights that actuallly work!
So I was out there in cow country and the center of an ag world, doing my secret mission thing and having fun like I always do. Way off in the distance from the secret mission du jour there’s a couple of hills called Two Buttes (it’s actually one hill with two peaks). I had always wanted to ride out to Two Buttes and see what it was all about. I knew a Jeep wasn’t really essential, but the combination of longer days (more sunlight), the draw of a place unexplored, the dirt roads to get there, and my Jeep worked its magic.
Headed into the Two Buttes State Wildlife Area.
From the main road, Two Buttes looks like it would be easy to find and easy to find my way around. Like elections, though, what you think you’re going to get and what you actually get aren’t often the same. When I got closer to the Two Beauts, I found the area was a maze of dirt roads laid out in no particular order. The guys I was working with on my secret mission told me about a hidden lake, and my objective was to find it and grab a few photos. Waze was sketchy as hell out there in farmroadland, but I didn’t care. I was in a Jeep.
Ah, success. The lake and the Jeep, as seen through my iPhone’s wide angle lens.Another photo of the lake, or pond, or whatever it actually is called.A beauty shot of the Jeep Wrangler.
I explored, I shot a bunch of iPhone photos, and I had a good time. I want a Jeep. I’m not going to get one. But I want one.
My last photo of the day, leaving the Two Buttes State Wildlife Area.
Maybe it would be even more fun with the 392 Hemi. I did a bit more research, and I learned that Jeep only introduced the 392 Hemi this year, in 2022. It seems that the new Ford Bronco (you can read our mini-review of it here) will be offered with a V8 in their Bronco Raptor package and Chrysler felt compelled to counter. Hey, whatever floats your boat. I found this 392 Hemi Jeep review and I thought you might find it interesting.
