Regular readers (if anyone who reads this endless chain of Kawasaki Z1 resurrection stories can be called Regular) will recall the broken intake manifold screw problem. I tried soaking the busted screw in penetrating oil, drilling it and using an easy-out to no avail. I heated the cylinder head around the broken screw. It didn’t budge (the screw, that is). I even ground a Harbor Freight screwdriver into a straight-sided, square easy out so as to not expand the screw tighter into the hole like commercial, spiral-type easy outs. I had a really good purchase on the thing but nothing doing. The screw was well and truly stuck.
My last resort hinged on drilling a hole exactly through the center of the broken piece with a left-hand drill bit. If you’ve never used a left-hand drill bit they are exactly like a right-hand drill bit but they cut in an anti-clockwise direction.
The reason lefty bits are the nads for removing stuck or broken bolts is because of their natural tendency to unscrew whatever they are drilling into. By increasing the bit size in stages hopefully you can get the offending screw so thin that the remaining threads weaken, collapse slightly and wind out of the hole looking like a coil spring. And that’s mostly what happened except the thread came out in pieces.
After clearing out the swarf I ran a bottoming tap into the hole and tidied up the threads as much as possible. I will use a slightly longer screw to compensate for the compromised hole but I’m pretty sure it will be fine and I have avoided using a Helicoil thread repair, which is the hack mechanic’s favorite crutch.
Zed was missing a few ignition parts so my Internet buddy Skip Duke sent me a spark advancer that very nearly fit the Kawasaki. The bolt that holds the advance to the crankshaft was a size too large for the hole in the advancer. Skip and I held a web-confab and decided that the advancer was the wrong part. Skip dug around his Z1 parts horde and found another unit that will work. This is the best thing about the Internet: you meet generous people that share your old motorcycle affliction.
I haven’t forgotten about the carburetors either. I’ve been soaking them in Evapor-rust and the stuff is doing a fine job. It’s very mild so you can leave zinc carb bodies immersed for days without fear of eating away the good parts. All four of the carbs are clean and I’m waiting on a few parts before I can reassemble the rack.
Zed’s little clutch-cover, oil level window was black with sitting-bike mung. It was so black the oil level could not be determined. I removed the cover and cleaned out behind the metal back-plate. Since I had the cover off I figured it would be a good idea to check the clutch plates for wear. The fibers are within tolerance and the steels are only slightly rusty so I’ll clean all those parts up and Zed should have a functioning clutch.
When Kawasaki designed the Z1 they went all out. This was Big K’s flagship motorcycle and the robust clutch is a fine example of strength. The large, straight-cut clutch gear would not look out of place in a one-ton manual truck transmission. The fingers that locate the fiber plates are surrounded by a steel band to prevent them from spreading under load. This clutch is awe-inspiring and looks like it could handle double the Z1’s 82 (claimed) horsepower. The bike has 41,000 miles showing on the clock and the metal parts show minimal wear. I am impressed.
Don’t take my word for it, here is the author of the Z1 repair manual waxing eloquent over the Z’s clutch.
I’m making another list of parts and will be blowing more money on Zed. I really hope this engine runs without a lot of knocking and the transmission shifts like butter.
Zombies. No matter how many times you hit them, they won’t go down…goofy targets, to be sure, but lots of fun.
No motorcycle rides today…just a fun day at the range with some of my motorcycle and shooting buddies, and the milsurp rifles.
We get together every month or so to do this, and sometimes we let a few too many months slide by. That was the case this time; it had probably been 3 or 4 months since we last had one of our informal matches. We ordinarily have around 10 shooters show up. This one was on short notice but we still had 5 of us get together. It’s grand fun and we always have a great Mexican lunch following the match. There’s something about having a rifle match (informal or otherwise) with firearms that are 70 to 110 years old. It’s cool.
About this match business…it’s relaxed as hell, as you can probably tell from the targets, and it really isn’t a competition. It’s just a bunch of guys with a common interest getting together to have fun. Most of the time we don’t even bother to score the targets. The company and the conversation are the best parts; we really don’t care about declaring a winner. We have some interesting firearms, too.
Duane and his German K98 Mauser. Duane rides an RX3 and an Indian. The rifle is a Nazi-proof-marked World War II weapon, which makes it about 70 years old.Willie and his US M1 Carbine. Willie also brought along a German Mauser (it’s to his right). Willie rides an RX3 and a TT250. The M1 is a World War II weapon.My Russian Mosin-Nagant. The Mosin-Nagant was designed in the early 1890s. This particular one was built in 1942, and most likely saw service in World War II. It’s very accurate.
Here’s a short video of Duane firing his World War II K98 Mauser…
You might wonder…why a gun article on a motorcycle blog?
Well, there are a couple of reasons. The first is that I’m always amazed at how many riders are also into shooting. The two interests seem to go hand in hand. And then there’s another aspect: The companies that manufactured both firearms and motorcycles. There are more than a few manufacturers who have done that.
You guys and gals into vintage bikes certainly know of BSA. The BSA initials stand for Birmingham Small Arms, and if you look closely at the emblem on older BSAs, you’ll see it’s a set of three stacked rifles…
A 1939 BSA M20. Note the stacked rifle logo on the engine.
Royal Enfield is another company with a military lineage. Enfield was originally a British company (their motorcycles are manufactured in India today). Take another look at Rick’s Lee Enfield rifle up above. Yep, there’s a connection.
Hey, how about Benelli? That was an Italian motorcycle company (Benelli motorcycles are now made in China), but they also have a line of shotguns. Benelli made pistols for a while, too. I have a Benelli 9mm handgun.
Iver Johnson is yet another company with a dual lineage. They made motorcycles a century ago, and they are still manufacturing firearms.
I don’t know that Harley ever made guns, but they manufactured munitions components until very recently. I know about that because I used to work for a company in that industry.
I’m sure there are more companies than just the few I’ve listed here, and I’m going to research this a bit more. I don’t think it’s just coincidence that more than a few manufacturers decided to make both bikes and guns. Motorcycles and firearms are two products with something in common: They have a special feel to them, an appeal that reaches into our souls. They are more than just mashed-up machined metal mechanisms. There’s a commonality, a similarity, and maybe a sympatico between motorcycles and firearms, one that attracts both manufacturers and riders. We see it right here on the ExhaustNotes blog (every time we post a firearms-related piece, our hits go through the roof). I’ll post a more in-depth blog on this motorcycle/firearm connection down the road. It’s a fascinating topic. Maybe there’s a book in it!
A week or so ago we posted a blog about my good buddy Baja John considering the purchase of a bike to keep at his home in Bahia de Los Angeles. We asked for your inputs and we received several (thanks very much). John pulled the trigger, and he wrote a guest blog to tell us about the rationale behind his decision. Here you go, folks…
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As Joe mentioned in an earlier post, I have been considering a bike to keep at my house in Mexico. Although I’ve had the house for several years, I never kept a motorcycle there because I had no secure place to store it. Thus, my motorcycle riding in Mexico was limited to bikes that I could ride long distances at highway speeds from my home in the U.S. Both my KLR 650 and my CSC RX3 250 fit this bill, however, I recently built a garage at the house in Mexico, and now I can keep a motorcycle there. Since this motorcycle will only be ridden in Mexico, and primarily on the Baja Peninsula, I don’t necessarily need a bike that can do more than 60mph comfortably. I also want a bike that will probably see on and off road equally. So, I laid out the requirements, and set out to find a bike.
My requirements are a bike that is 1: reliable, 2: simple to work on in the field, 3: lightweight with a smooth power band, 4: comfortable for long distances, 5: a range of at least 150 miles on a tank of gas, 6: has enough ground clearance for the majority of off-road riding that I will do, and if I’m lucky, 7: has a kick starter that will fire the engine up in the event of a dead battery. That last requirement is tough to satisfy these days, so it became more of a desire. If I were going to ride in cold weather, I would also require enough wattage to power heated gear, but fortunately, the majority of my riding will be in temperate climates.
So, why the desire for the bike to start with a dead battery. For me it boils down to peace of mind. Many years ago, when I rode the 2,200 mile round trip to Cabo San Lucas on a small 150cc bike, the battery died before I was halfway through. No problem. I used the kick starter and rode that bike all the way back to the border with a dead battery. I thought that all motorcycles would start with a dead battery, as long as you could turn the engine over. I recently found out that this is not the case when I went to the movies on my RX3. I came out of the movie theater and started the bike. It cranked over as usual, and started. About 2 blocks down the street, I came to a stop sign. The engine died. I hit the starter, but nothing. I thought that I had inadvertently hit the kill switch. Nope. I pushed the bike to a nearby downgrade, rode it down, popped the clutch, the engine sputtered a little, but would not run. Put in a new battery and it was business as usual. I called Gerry, the mechanic at CSC at that time, and he explained that fuel injected motorcycles will not run without a good battery. Lesson learned. Thus, my strong desire to find a bike that won’t leave me stranded in the desert because the battery died.
My first thought was to use my KLR, but the riding height always bothered me even though I am 6’ tall. That’s OK though, because I can get some lowering links, but it is also a heavy bike with enough power to get me into trouble. I know that dirt bikers rely on a bike with a good power band to maintain control with the throttle when they need to, but I’m not a dirt bike rider, and I prefer not to throttle my way out of trouble. Buying another RX3 also crossed my mind. A gentleman near my home in AZ is selling one with 9K miles for $2,195 with a few extras already installed. I like the RX3 for the majority of off-road riding that I do in the U.S. I like the lower seat height so that I can plant both feet firmly on the ground when I need to. I like the smooth power band so that I don’t break the rear tire loose if I accidentally blip the throttle. No surprises with the RX3. I like the confidence that it instills in me to take roads that I wouldn’t feel comfortable taking on the KLR, however, I don’t want to have to carry a small alternate battery with me in Mexico with enough power for the EFI system, and then attempt to find a way to push start it in the desert. It is also a heavier bike than I prefer for the dirt, and as an adventure bike, it doesn’t have quite the ground clearance of a dual-sport bike.
So, how heavy is the RX3? The internet says 385lbs wet with the stock side bags and trunk. I decided to find out by taking my RX3 to the local scale. It weighed in at 420lbs with a half-tank of gas and my aluminum Tourfella trunk on the back with no side bags attached. The Tourfella just had a few tools, air pump, and some tie-down straps in it. The internet says that my KLR is 370lbs dry, so it shouldn’t be much heavier than the RX3 when wet, but I’m staying in Wisconsin for the summer, so I currently don’t have the KLR with me to take to the scales, but it feels like it’s quite a bit heavier than the RX3, and it definitely feels more top heavy. Based on the discrepancy between the RX3 advertised wet weight and the actual wet weight that I saw at the local scale, I’m going to guess that the KLR is close to 500lbs. Although neither of these bikes are too heavy to pick up by myself, I’m 65, and it appears that I’m never going to get any younger, no matter how much wishful thinking I do, so I prefer something lighter. Enter the Yamaha XT250.
The XT250 pretty much checks all of the boxes. I recently stopped by a dealership to see one. I wanted to sit on it and check out my riding position and standing position. Everything good so far. The tank is only 2.4 gal, but at the advertised 78mpg, it should meet the 150 mile range. It’s Yamaha reliable, easy to work on, and less than 300lbs wet with a very comfortable 32” seat height. I would still have to ride one to get some feel of the power band and comfort while riding, but at a price of $5,200, I decided that a new one was out of the question, so I didn’t bother with a test ride at the dealer. A little research told me that the 2008 to 2012 models were carbureted, so I searched Craigslist and Cycle trader to find a used one. The pre-2013 models were running a much more reasonable $2,500 to $3,200, but I couldn’t confirm whether there was a kickstarter kit available for them like there was for the Yamaha TW200. Yep, this bike is looking good, but I still prefer to find a bike with a kickstarter that is post-1980’s and not a pure dirt bike, so the search continued, however, I may still buy a used XT250 in addition to another motorcycle. After all, it’s always good to have a spare bike, especially in Mexico where my bike may be down for a couple of weeks waiting for someone to bring me a part from the U.S.
I remember seeing the CSC TT250 when I was visiting CSC a couple of years ago when I returned from one of the CSC sponsored rides, so I went online to review the specs. Wow, this bike had possibilities. Although it’s a Chinese bike, my RX3 has been very reliable, and probably the best motorcycle that I’ve ever owned, due to its reliability, versatility, and comfort. I take that bike with me wherever I go, either on the back of my motorhome or on a hitch carrier attached to my Jeep. Manufactured by Zongshen, the same company that builds the RX3, I was sure it would be well made and reliable. Plus the Honda CG clone engine has been known for its reliability for decades. So, let’s check the boxes.
I went online to the ADV and China Rider forums to see what TT250 owners had to say about the bike. 1: Reliable: Yes. 2: Simple to work on: Obviously, being a CG clone engine. Plus CSC provides a service manual and online service tutorials. 3: Lightweight with a smooth power band: Advertised at 309lbs it looks like it will be about 100lbs lighter than the RX3, and riders say it has a smooth power band. 4: Comfortable for long distances: Riders say that they like the wider seat, the riding position, and apparently there is not too much wind buffeting. 5: Range of 150 miles: At 65mpg, the 2.9 gallon tank should make 150 miles even if only 2.3 gallons is usable. 6: Good ground clearance: Yes. 7: Kickstarter that will fire up the engine even with a dead battery: Yes to the kickstarter, but I haven’t been able to verify whether it will start with a dead battery. I suspect that this is true since it’s a carbureted engine. Steve at CSC Motorcycles said that he believes that this is true as well. One other thing that I like about the TT250 is that CSC offers a seat that will reduce the seat height to 32” if I feel uncomfortable with the 34” stock seat height.
So, what did I decide to do? Looks like that answer would be obvious, but first I wanted to verify the price out the door for a CSC TT250. $2,195 seems too good to be true, doesn’t it? So many times we find that things cost much more than the advertised price by the time the dealer tacks on fees for everything that they can think of. So, I asked Steve what the price would be shipped to my home. He said that they only add $400 to the price of the bike for prep, documentation, and shipping, so the cost to my door would be $2,595. At this point I was close to ordering one, but I had one last thing to check; accessories. I wanted to see what kind of accessories CSC offered, as well as the prices. Turns out, CSC offers a number of accessories, although not as many as the RX3. That’s understandable due to the type of rider and riding that the TT250 is designed for. Also the accessories are much less expensive than those for the majority of motorcycles manufactured today, so I chose a power outlet kit, rear luggage rack, handguards, helmet lock, and a 47 tooth rear sprocket in case I want a little more speed and less torque than the OEM 50 tooth provides. I was still thinking about waiting a few weeks until I returned home to Arizona to order one, but Steve said that they could hold the bike for me and ship it when I arrived home in October if I wanted to buy it now. Steve also told me that the next shipment of bikes arriving in October might be more expensive due to the possibility of additional tariffs imposed on Chinese products. In addition, he said that CSC stocks all accessories and OEM parts that you need for the bike, and they will usually arrive at your home within 2 or 3 days of ordering them. At that point I said, “Sold”, and ordered the bike. Within 15 minutes I had received and approved the invoice from Sara. They will ship it to my home in Arizona shortly after I arrive during the 3rd week of October.
Now that I pulled the trigger, I’m very happy with my decision. During my lifetime, I’ve seen customer service slowly decline over the decades. It’s refreshing to deal with a company that has a strong customer service ethic. I’m anxious to get home, break the bike in, and change the oil before I take it to Mexico at the end of October. I’m also going to run the battery down and see if I can kickstart it with a nearly dead battery. It turns out that there was an added bonus to ordering the bike when I did, since I found out after the fact that I bought the last white one that CSC had in stock. “Hoorah!!!”
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Awesome inputs, John, and thanks very much. We think you made a good decision. CSC is one of our advertisers, so we are glad to see that you bought the TT250. For those of you following the ExNotes blog installments about the CSC 150 Mustang ride to Cabo and back, John was one of the guys on that ride. And those of you who read Moto Baja! will know that John is the guy with whom I’ve ridden many, many miles in Mexico (he and I rode my first trip ever to that magical land).
With Baja John in Mexico many moons ago….
And for our other readers…do you have a story you’d like to share with us? Hey, let us know, and we’ll consider it for the ExNotes blog!
No sooner had I written that blog a day or two ago about branding partnerships (in which I mentioned an earlier, expired linkup between Harley and Ford for a Harley-themed F-150 pickup), and this pops up…
When I was a kid (and that’s reaching back into the 1950s), there was no finer automobile than a Cadillac. That’s the way it was back then, and even though I’ve never owned a Cadillac, I’d like to someday. The thought that a Cadillac is the best stuck in my mind.
Today if you’re snooty it’s all about BMW, Mercedes, Lexus, Infiniti, and maybe one or two others. All foreign stuff. I don’t know if foreign cars are really better or if tastes just changed, but back in the day, a sure sign of success was driving a Cadillac. Mercedes was a weird one in the 1950s, and nobody in America had heard of BMW. Lexus and Infiniti were way in the distant future, and if you were to tell somebody you had a Lexus back then, they would most likely assume it was a medical problem.
I still think the 1959 Coupe de Ville was one of the best-looking cars ever made (anywhere, at any time), but that might be because it’s what I knew as a kid. Let’s see, I would have been 8 years old in 1959. Yeah, those big fins and bullet tail lights were cool.
So I grew up knowing that Cadillac meant the best something could be (as in “the Cadillac of…”). Cameras, guns, bicycles, whatever…fill in the blanks, and if it was really, really good, it was “the Cadillac” of that product line.
Sooooo…….when I saw a series of early Caddies at the Nethercutt last Saturday, I was all over them. The Nethercutt had fabulous cars of all kinds, but the Caddies really did it for me.
I had been there just a few weeks earlier, we had company in from out of town who wanted to see the Nethercutt, and I was prepared. I had my Nikon D3300 walking-around camera, I had my 16-35 lens (it’s bigger than the camera), and I had enough light to dial in ISO 1600 and get me some Caddy photos.
Wow, a very classy 1930 Cadillac, the Model 452A Imperial Cabriolet, with Caddy’s 452-cubic-inch V-16. The colors work. I want one.A 1938 Series 90 Convertible Sedan. These cars are amazing.Something slightly more modern…a 1984 Cadillac Fleetwood limousine. This car belonged to a Merle Norman executive who gave it to the Nethercutt Collection when he retired. The Nethercutts were the founders and owners of the Merle Norman Cosmetics firm.A 1935 Model 452D 5-passenger convertible. Cadillac only made two of these, and here’s one of them. Wowee!A 1937 Series 90 Aero-Dynamic Coupe (yep, that’s how they spelled it). It also had the 452-cubic-inch V-16 engine.The 1933 Model 542-C Imperial Limousine. Sweet. It’s got the 452-cubic-inch V-16, too.The 1932 Model 452B Deluxe Sport Phaeton, with the same big V-16. Stunning.
So there you have it. The Nethercutt Museum has about 250 vintage automobiles, of which 150 are on display at any time. I’m guessing they have a few more Caddies stashed away, and that gives me a reason to go there again (and I will). If you’re ever in So Cal, you don’t want to miss the Nethercutt. It’s one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen. You might even say it’s the Cadillac of vintage auto collections.
When I was 13 years old in Florida you could get a restricted permit at age 14. The restricted permit was a driver’s license that allowed you to drive as long as an adult was in the car with you. Assuming he/she wasn’t suicidal, the adult was supposed to keep an eye on your driving and coach you. An adult would help you pick up the nuances of parallel parking, rude hand gestures, and, in Dade County, gun fighting after minor traffic accidents. Needless to say, having an aged, creaking burnout sitting in the car fouling the air with the smell of stale urine cut down on motoring fun quite a bit.
There was a motorcycle loophole in the restricted permit system. If a motorcycle was less than 5 horsepower, and if you stayed off the major highways and didn’t ride at night, you could ride solo without adults helicoptering over your ride. It was wonderful. Obey these few rules and a kid could ride his motorcycle anywhere he pleased.
Motorcycles between 50cc and 90cc were right in the 5-horsepower wheelhouse but your average traffic cop couldn’t tell a 175 from a 50. Many bikes were rebadged to appear smaller displacement than they were. I never knew anyone in my circle of friends that got busted for riding a bike too big. Of course, you had to be reasonable about the subterfuge. A 50cc badge on a Kawasaki 750 wouldn’t fly.
Two months before I turned 14 the state upped the age for a restricted permit to 15 years old. The world ended that day. Massive volcanic eruptions, cataclysmic earthquakes, a steady rain of nuclear weapons bombarding the United States, nothing was as devastating to me as Florida’s stupid statute change.
I would have to wait an additional 365 days and I’d only lived 5000 days in total. The year dragged by. Endless days were followed by endless nights only to be repeated one after another. I had to attend yet another grade in school. I couldn’t wait to be done with public conformitouriums anyway and this stolen year of motorcycle riding made it all the more aggravating. The drip, drip, drip of time counted my heartbeats, counted my life ebbing away. I was inconsolable, miserable and the experience placed a chip on my shoulder for government that I have not shaken off.
There are 9 years hidden in there somewhere!
Begrudging the failed clutch on my Husqvarna the other day I came to the jarring realization that I have owned the bike 9 years. I swear, I bought this thing not more than a couple days ago. I degreased the countershaft sprocket area to gain access and removed the clutch slave cylinder. From the inside of the slave I pulled out an aged, creaking o-ring that smelled of stale urine. The leak had allowed the clutch fluid to escape into the crankcase. Except for the missing 9 years the clutch repair went well.
Einstein was right; time is relative. From my 14-year-old perspective a year was an eternity. Now, as an adult I’m scared to close my eyes for fear that another decade will have passed by at light speed. Or worse yet, I won’t be able to re-open them at all.
I guess I should start this piece by explaining I’m not even sure what the Clifton Club is. After spending several minutes on Google researching it, all I could find is that it’s either a wedding and Bar Mitzvah venue in Lakewood, Ohio, or a series of bling pieces from high-end watch maker Baume and Mercier. I’m going to go with Door No. 2 on this one. It’s the only explanation that makes sense in the context of what follows.
Let me back up a step. Yesterday I chauffeured the ladies to Fashion Island in Newport. It’s a very trendy shopping mall in a very trendy part of So Cal (think Neiman-Marcus, Nordstrom’s, French poodles, BMWs, and the like). For me, a visit to any shopping mall is torture, but it keeps me in good graces with the rest of the clan and builds up goodwill points for the next collectible firearm purchase, so it all works out.
Anyway, while the girls were shopping I wandered into a high-end watch store (think Rolex and armed guards) and I noticed, of all things, a motorcycle. A new Indian, to be precise, in the middle of the store. I’ve never ridden an Indian (new or vintage), but I always thought they were beautiful motorcycles (again, both new and vintage). I’m not a big cruiser guy, but if I was, I think I would buy an Indian. They are good-looking motorcycles, and my buddies Joe Gresh and Duane both hold them in high regard (and that’s a powerful endorsement).
While I was admiring the Indian, a sales guy approached me (my new good buddy Eduardo…Eduardo, I think, is a particularly elegant name). Eduardo saw my confusion (a motorcycle in a jewelry store?), and he explained that Indian had a marketing partnership with Baume and Mercier, a high-end Swiss watchmaker. It all centered on Burt Munro and his record-breaking land speed record activities. Indian. Baume and Mercier. Burt Munro. Ah, it all came together.
The Baume and Mercier Indian watch. $3900, and it could be yours. Motorcycle not included. It is a beautiful timepiece. It’s part of their Clifton Club collection, and if you wear it, you could be a member, too.Indian got it right. It’s an OHV engine, but the valve covers are designed to emulate the flathead design of the original Indians. It’s masterful, I think.There’s a lot of room in those freight and setup fees. Don’t ever pay what any dealer asks for in these two categories. Read 5000 Miles at 8000 RPM, available on Amazon.com, and you’ll see what I’m talking about.
Do these marketing partnerships work? I suppose they do. More than 20 years ago, Ford teamed with Harley to offer a special limited edition F-150 pickup with Harley decals. As near as I could tell, the decals were the only thing special about that truck, and the only thing limiting the edition was how many they could sell. I had a lot of fun teasing a friend of mine who owned both a Harley Bad Boy (yep, they actually had a model with that name) and the limited edition truck. I drove a ginormous Tahoe and I rode a Suzuki TL1000 in those days. I told my friend I was going to put Suzuki decals on the Chevy and call it a TL-Ho. Good times.
Anyway, the Baume and Mercier watch I saw yesterday was cool (at $3900, it should be), and the Indian was beautiful. I hope the deal works out for Baume and Mercier, and for Indian. I pondered the Harley and Ford partnership mentioned above; I’m guessing nothing came of that, as the two companies seemed to have parted ways. Then I remembered that Bentley, the luxury British carmaker, has a partnership with Breitling (Breitling is another expensive Swiss watchmaker).
I wondered…what’s in it for the companies that strike up such partnerships, and what’s in it for their customers? I don’t think there’s any kind of pricing advantage or free gear package, so what would be the attraction? Is it simply living a branded lifestyle (you know, for insecure rich folks who need something more in their lives)? Or is it somehow making a statement about one’s wealth? Look at me! I drive a Bentley and wear a Breitling!
That got me to thinking…would a marketing partnership work for other brands, and in particular, would such a partnership work for less expensive motorcycles and watches? You know, look at me! I ride an RX3 and I wear a Timex!
What if you could sell a new motorcycle and give away a free watch with it? I’m thinking of China bikes, India bikes (not Indian Moto, but bikes actually made in India), and maybe Thai bikes. It might work if you included a free watch with each new motorcycle, and it would cost essentially nothing. I visited the Canton Fair in Guangzhou last year and I’m on their email list now, so I get all kinds of offers from Chinese manufacturers. You can buy new Chinese watches for $0.62 each (and if you’re thinking they are low quality, you need to think again and maybe research where what you’re currently wearing is actually manufactured).
The branding and theming opportunities might be fun. KLRs are made in Thailand…suppose you got a free milk-crate-themed watch to match your KLR’s topcase? The KTM 390 is made in India; perhaps you could include a Taj Mahal themed watch with each new 390 (isn’t that what the “TM” in KTM stands for, anyway?). Think of all the marques with models, engines, or major components manufactured in Thailand, India, and China…Hawk, SWM, CSC, Royal Enfield, BMW, Harley-Davidson, Triumph, Honda, and more. You can see the possibilities.
Doug Turnbull Restorations is a cool company specializing in firearm restorations and new firearms treated with classic color case hardening. This video showed up in an email this morning…
Here’s another one that’s interesting…the restoration of an old axe. The video is well done and the finished products (both the axe and the video) are impressive…
I liked that Dream Bike piece Gresh did over the weekend about his fantasy bike, the Kawasaki 350cc Avenger. I like the concept: Articles on the ones that got away.
And as is always the case, if Gresh wrote it, I like it.
Can I say that on this blog? You know, Gresh and I do most of the writing, so am I allowed to say that about his stuff? Hey, I don’t care.
I’m guessing if you’re reading this, you have a dream bike. You know, one you didn’t buy but wish you had. We’d like to hear about it. Do a short piece on it with a photo or two and we’ll publish it here.
In the meantime, and because I like “the one that got away” concept so much, I’m going to do a short bit on my dream bike. One of them, anyway. It’s the 1983 Harley XR1000. Yeah, I know, I’m a guy who made his bones writing about small bikes (the CSC RX3, in particular), and the XR1000 is anything but small. But I like it.
The 1983 Harley XR1000. Check out the massive Dellortos and the K&N air filters. All business. I like it.A view from the other side. I’m not a guy who normally leans left or listens to folks who do, but the XR1000’s asymmetry and leftist tendencies are oddly appealing.
The magazines of the era all panned the XR1000, and every once in a while one of them does a retrospective (and they still don’t like it). You know what? I don’t give a rat’s rear end about some magazine weenie’s opinion. I like the look, the concept, and the sound of the XR1000, and one of my few regrets in life is that I didn’t buy one new in ’83.
Not that I didn’t have good reason back then. I had bought a Harley Electra-Glide Classic, new, in 1979. It was the worst vehicle of any type I’d ever owned, and I swore I’d never buy another Harley. That was the principal thing that kept me from pulling the trigger on a new XR1000 in ’83 (I sold the Electra-Glide in ‘82, and the reliability reputation injuries it left hadn’t healed yet). But time heals all wounds (I wish I had that Electra-Glide now), and if I could find a clean XR1000 I’d be on it in a New York minute.
The magazines said the XR1000 vibrated (they actually paid folks to point that out on a Harley?), you could burn your left leg on the exhaust (duh), and the twin Dellortos hit your knee on the right side of the bike (seriously?). Not content with stating the obvious, one of the magazines actually wrote the bike had a predilection for turning left. A bike based on a flat tracker? A predilection for turning left? And folks wonder why the motorcycle magazine business fell on hard times.
Everything the magazines hated about the XR1000 made me want one more. It was a raw, muscular, asymmetric, no passenger, no compromises, in-your-face motorcycle. I still want one.
I remember hot summer days mixing concrete with my father. I remember the two-holed hoe oozing mud like Play-Doh through a Fun Factory press. Back and forth you shoved the concrete with each hard pass plasticizing a frustratingly minor amount. The demand never ceased, more concrete was required all the time until the sun and the humidity and the sweat burning your eyes (combined with the resistance of the aggregate) lulled your body into a Zen state of denial. The only way to push on was to pretend it wasn’t happening. “I am not really here,” I’d tell myself.
“More mud!” Dumping another 80-pound bag of concrete into the wheel-buggy I quietly promised that I would never, ever, under any circumstances, become a concrete finisher.
Harbor Freight. Cement mixers. Life is good.
With the $180 purchase of Harbor Freight’s 3-1/2 cubic foot concrete mixer I broke that promise made so long ago. I got mine at one of Harbor Freight’s closeouts. Or maybe it was a parking lot sale. Come to think of it, could it have been one of the 4357 tool disposals that brought my attention to the mixer? These events are held almost daily at Harbor Freight and if you ever pay full price at that store you’re no friend of mine. The mixer came out of the box in a million pieces and it took the better part of three hours to assemble the thing because I am not genetically disposed to look at directions.
I mixed about 400, 50-pound bags of concrete before the key in the larger of the two pulleys fell out. The parts landed inside the motor box so I stuck the key back onto the pinion shaft and swabbed a bit of lock tight onto the screw holding the key. I’ve since mixed another 800 bags with no further problems. In total, about 15 cubic yards of concrete have been run through the little mixer to date.
Gears. Lube. Like the innards of a Rolex, but on a grander scale…Industrial grade. Good stuff, Harbor Freight is.
Maintenance on the HF mixer consists of lubing the drum pivots, greasing the large stamped ring gear and oiling the sealed drum bearing with whatever dregs of slippery stuff I have laying about the shed. I do all these things before each use whether I’m mixing 3 bags or 100.
The drum is sized for 150 pounds of concrete mix. Any more and the tilt angle becomes too vertical and the mixing action slows to a crawl. Depending on which size bag of pre-mix concrete is cheapest, I have mixed as high as 180 pounds in the thing but mixing performance suffered with each additional pound. These are nitpicks. I spent less than a week’s rental to own the HF mixer. I give it high marks.
High tech tilt angle control. Who needs instructions?Warnings? I don’t need no stinkin’ warnings!
It’s funny how life works out. I enjoy mixing and finishing concrete now. I love the smells and textures and the sound of a steel trowel scraping across a smooth burnished surface. These are simple motions that bring back sweet muscle-memories of working with my father and those hot summers when I was young and strong.
The reason lefty bits are the nads for removing stuck or broken bolts is because of their natural tendency to unscrew whatever they are drilling into. By increasing the bit size in stages hopefully you can get the offending screw so thin that the remaining threads weaken, collapse slightly and wind out of the hole looking like a coil spring. And that’s mostly what happened except the thread came out in pieces.
After clearing out the swarf I ran a bottoming tap into the hole and tidied up the threads as much as possible. I will use a slightly longer screw to compensate for the compromised hole but I’m pretty sure it will be fine and I have avoided using a Helicoil thread repair, which is the hack mechanic’s favorite crutch.
I haven’t forgotten about the carburetors either. I’ve been soaking them in Evapor-rust and the stuff is doing a fine job. It’s very mild so you can leave zinc carb bodies immersed for days without fear of eating away the good parts. All four of the carbs are clean and I’m waiting on a few parts before I can reassemble the rack.
Zed’s little clutch-cover, oil level window was black with sitting-bike mung. It was so black the oil level could not be determined. I removed the cover and cleaned out behind the metal back-plate. Since I had the cover off I figured it would be a good idea to check the clutch plates for wear. The fibers are within tolerance and the steels are only slightly rusty so I’ll clean all those parts up and Zed should have a functioning clutch.
When Kawasaki designed the Z1 they went all out. This was Big K’s flagship motorcycle and the robust clutch is a fine example of strength. The large, straight-cut clutch gear would not look out of place in a one-ton manual truck transmission. The fingers that locate the fiber plates are surrounded by a steel band to prevent them from spreading under load. This clutch is awe-inspiring and looks like it could handle double the Z1’s 82 (claimed) horsepower. The bike has 41,000 miles showing on the clock and the metal parts show minimal wear. I am impressed.
Don’t take my word for it, here is the author of the Z1 repair manual waxing eloquent over the Z’s clutch.
I’m making another list of parts and will be blowing more money on Zed. I really hope this engine runs without a lot of knocking and the transmission shifts like butter.
