Monsoon season has streamed into New Mexico’s upper atmosphere, hampering my concrete construction projects so I took the opportunity to settle some old scores with Godzilla, my 1971 Yamaha RT1-B Enduro. I’m getting the bike ready for a west coast trip and there were some annoying little faults I wanted to do up right before riding the California coast.
Godzilla has grown over the years. I’ve put a taller 21” front wheel on the bike and longer rear shocks. As a result the bike leans way over on the original-length kickstand. Parked in the shed I use a chunk of 2×4 to make the Yamaha sit more vertical but I’m not about to carry lumber all the way to California.
I measured the length needed, about 1-1/2-inch, and cut some tube off an old handlebar I keep around for just this purpose. I’ve been altering a lot of kickstands lately. I don’t know why I have to keep messing with kickstands but there it is. I used a piece of tube from an old floodlight frame to make a centering piece so that the three sections stay straight.
The tube from the floodlight was slotted and press fit into the extension piece.
Then all the pieces were assembled and welded together. After welding I touched up the stand with a bit of spot putty and gloss black paint.
The angle worked out great. Unfortunately the longer stand now hit the lower chain guard bolt when in the up position.
To solve this problem I added a blob of weld to the kickstand stop; this increased the clearance between the longer stand and the chain guard.
The next problem was the rear wheel sprocket carrier. This part has heavy wear as Godzilla spends most of its time in the dirt. The sprocket was alarmingly loose, not enough to throw the chain but not far from it.
There are two distinct areas of wear. The first is the hub boss that the sprocket carrier rides on. The second problem is the distance between the sprocket carrier retaining circlip and the carrier had become quite wide, meaning the clip didn’t hold the carrier tight to the hub. This allowed the carrier to wander in and out, causing even more wear on the hub boss.
To fill the gap between the hub boss and carrier I used a section of well-greased, steel measuring tape as a shim. I wound the tape around the boss and held it into position with a bit of string. To determine the thickness needed I started long and trial fit the carrier. I kept decreasing the tape length until the carrier would just slip over the shim.
For the circlip gap I was lucky and found a piece of aluminum pipe that fit nearly perfectly and trimmed off a baloney slice to use as a shim.
By trial and error I fit and re-fit the shim. I used the South Bend lathe to reduce the thickness of the shim bit by bit until the clip would fit without any back and forth play. Now the sprocket carrier is snug to the hub but still has a bit of rotational movement between the hub’s rubber cushions.
Godzilla seems to be in pretty good shape right now. It’s running a bit rough but that’s probably due to the old gas in the tank. I’ll dilute the crap gas with fresh and take the bike out for a nice long ride. See you in California!
I’ve ridden my Yamaha RT1B 360 Enduro for thousands and thousands of miles. The old two-stroke has been across country more than once and I rode it on the Trans America Trail east to west from Kitty Hawk, North Carolina to Port Orford, Oregon. In all that time I never put a dent in the beast known as Godzilla.
It is a fairly easy job to load the light-ish Yamaha into a pickup truck…normally. This time was different. I lost my balance mid-ramp and the Yamaha started to topple over onto me. I was out of position to save the bike, my legs were getting tangled and in that split second I envisioned a broken arm or crushed ribcage. I let the bike go and jumped down to safety. The bike fell to the left; the gas tank smashed into the side of the truck bed and my somewhat pristine Godzilla had a huge dent.
You and I have both heard about the paintless dent repair kits. Amazon had this one for pretty cheap and I thought I’d give it a try.
The kit comes with everything you need, except alcohol (to clean the tank, not drink). After the tank got a good scrubbing with the hooch, I used the included hot glue gun to attach the little puller tabs in places I thought needed to be pulled. The dent was pretty deep and had a crease running diagonally across the tank. I didn’t hold out much hope.
The flimsy plastic puller seemed like it would break at any moment but the thing held up. It was strong enough to yank the pull-tabs.
The kit came with a slide hammer but that tool broke the tabs. I believe the shock load was more than the plastic could handle. You’ll need weld on tabs to use the slide hammer.
Usually the tab would pull off the tank and since the paint on Godzilla is 53 years old the glue removed a bit of paint each time. The kit came with a little spray bottle that you fill with alcohol; the alcohol loosens up the hot glue to allow reuse of the tabs. It took several re-positionings but I managed to get the majority of the dent pulled out.
The creases in the tank are still visible and the tank is far from straight but it’s at least 80% better than it was. From 10 feet away you may not notice the thing is dented. I worked on another egg-shaped dent on the top of the tank that was there when I bought the bike. The paint in this spot was in bad shape so it was hard to get anything to stick.
I ended up sanding the egg-dent to get something firm to attach the pull tab and gave the spot a light dusting of gloss black spray paint. After the paint dried I feathered it in with 600-grit. Again, I got the dent about 80% removed.
I think for minor dents without sharp creases and with fairly new paint stuck firmly to the metal the kit would actually work pretty well. The Z1 has a ding that’s a prime candidate for the dent puller except the dent is right over a stripe decal. I’m sure the tab will lift the decal.
I call the paintless dent removal process a good one. The kit I bought was bottom of the barrel cheap so possibly a better kit would produce better results. I’m happy enough with Godzilla’s tank. After all, it’s a dirt bike and will probably take a few more hits before I shuffle off.
I haven’t been riding the Yamaha RD350 lately and it’s not because I don’t want to. There is a lot of concrete that needs doing at the ranch and I get to do it. Anyway, the RD350 has a loose screw in the tachometer and the screw dances around inside the gauge beating a tattoo onto the tachometer face. It drives me crazy to see that little screw eating away at the tachometer lettering so I parked the bike. A few days of rainy weather put a stop to my concrete-the-world efforts and I decided to take advantage of the down time and fix the tachometer.
These Yamaha instrument clusters were not really meant to be serviced. The Yamaha factory crimped the bezel onto the gauge body and back in the day it was cheap to buy another gauge. If you have infinite patience like my buddy Deet, it’s possible to unkink the crimp and reassemble the gauge so that it looks to all the world that its never been touched. I am not that patient.
I modified a harbor freight pick (free with purchase!) into a pry bar, which allowed me to get the crimp slightly lifted. Once you have the bezel edge up a bit you can get a more serious pry bar in there.
This bar is also a modified Harbor Freight tool. The rounded face allows you to work the crimp back to a more vertical position.
With the bezel mangled and pried back the lens will separate from the gauge body allowing access to that annoying screw.
Since I had the gauge this far apart I took the mechanism out of the gauge body and gave it a few drops of oil. This turned out to be a bad idea.
Putting the gauge back together is the reverse of the above description. Make sure the lens is perfectly clean or you’ll be looking at that speck of dust forever. To re-crimp I got the bend started with a screwdriver and the used a small hammer and punch to flatten out the waves. It doesn’t look factory but a rubber bumper covers the mess.
After assembly and testing the neutral indicator light looked odd. It was lit all the time and very dim. I assumed I must have screwed up the wiring and rechecked everything. Turns out the rubber bellows that shields the neutral light socket from the bulbs illuminating the gauge did not slip into position correctly. This caused the boot to fold over blocking the neural light photons and allowing random background photons to leak into the green lens area. I had to un-crimp the bezel again, disassemble the gauge and slip the boot on correctly. Perseverance will beat talent every time.
The speedometer screws were also loose, the face was jiggling around and it was only a matter of time before those screws fell out. I took that gauge apart and tightened the screws. Then I did the oil thing and also adjusted the needle 8 miles per hour slower to more closely reflect the speed I was going.
The sun is shining and I can start putting more miles on the Yamaha RD350 without staring at that stupid screw bouncing around inside the gauge. And I will just a soon as I finish up this driveway.
Anyone who wants to become Vulcan must learn how to cut metal. There are many methods available like bandsaws, oxyacetylene torch, abrasive wheels, hacksaws and the old reliable, bend-it-back-and-forth-until-it-breaks. One of the relatively newer methods (in relation to the age of the Universe) is a machine called the plasma cutter.
Plasma cutters used to be very expensive. The plasma machine we use at school cost around 4000 dollars and is rated at 60 amps. The global economy (AKA China) has driven down the cost of plasma cutters dramatically. The Yeswelder cutter in this story cost me under 200 dollars and is rated 55 amps. Shipping was free.
In use, a plasma cutter works much like an oxyacetylene cutting torch. The big difference is that you don’t need any fuel: no acetylene gas to buy or bottles to rent. The only thing burning in a plasma cutting system is the material you are cutting through.
The plasma cutter uses regular compressed air and a bunch of ions and magical stuff inside the cutting head to create a super-hot, narrow stream of plasma. It’s sort of like having your own pocket-sized northern lights shooting out of the torch to cut material.
Unlike oxyacetylene, there is no waiting for the material to heat up. With a plasma cutter you set the torch near the material and pull the trigger. A jet of plasma shoots out of the torch and you can start cutting immediately. The plasma cutter cuts at about the same speed as an oxy cutter so you can move right along.
The 55 DS Pro Yeswelder plasma cutter will operate using 120 or 240 volts AC using the included adaptor. The machine auto selects for the voltage you are plugged into. At 120VAC input the machine will only go to 30 amps. You’ll need 240 VAC to access all 55 amps of metal slashing power
My air compressor is too small for the plasma cutter and is located too far away from where I cut so there’s a long air hose involved; with a long hose line pressure drops fast. I made a remote air tank out of a defunct water pump to give me a little more cut time and eliminate the line drop. I can cut 6 to 10 inches before I have to wait for the compressor to catch up. If you’re going to be doing a lot of continuous cutting with a plasma cutter you’ll need a decent sized air compressor.
With the compressor and the plasma cutter operating simultaneously, my smallish off-grid inverter struggles and spits out a low voltage alarm when the compressor starts. To get around this problem I use a fossil fuel powered 10KW Honda generator. The big V-twin Honda doesn’t even notice when I cut with the plasma torch and the air compressor kicks in.
Most everything you need to get started is included with the Yeswelder Cut-55. You’ll need to provide the air compressor and connect an air hose to the built in pressure regulator/filter on the back of the Yeswelder. Unless you cut through the torch hose or spill a Big Gulp container of Pepsi Cola inside the cutter, normal consumables are only the bits inside the torch that churn out ions.
The controls are pretty simple on the Yeswelder Cut-55. There is an amp setting, an air pressure setting, 2T or 4T trigger actuation (on-off with squeeze and release or squeeze on, release, torch stays on, second trigger pull turns off) an indicator for input voltage and not much else. It’s a simple machine to operate.
I haven’t used the machine very much; it cut through 1/8-inch steel like a hot jet of plasma through 1/8-inch steel. There’s not as much slag as with oxy cutting so clean up is easier. It should handle ¼-inch steel without a problem and I don’t work with anything thicker.
The prices on these Chinese plasma cutters are so much lower than the old line companies something must be sacrificed. I’m guessing in a full time metal shop the cheapo versions wouldn’t last long but for guys like me or you who just want to cut out a metal silhouette of a buffalo once in a while the Yeswelder looks like the goods. I give it a 5-star rating on the Hacksaw Chi-Com scale. That being said I have only one caveat: The thing may go up in a ball of exploding ions tomorrow. If it does quit I’ll be sure to report it in a follow up story.
I usually use two jack stands with a long piece of ½” rod through the wheel bearings to balance a motorcycle tire. It works ok but there is a bit of drag on the bearings that makes balancing a sticky affair. You can get the wheel close but minor amounts of weight (like ½ ounce) won’t have much effect.
Since I got the Harbor Freight tire machine I’ve been happily changing tires as needed. I’ve done around eight tire changes and I’ve got the system somewhat down. The only thing I was missing was a dedicated tire balance stand. This is where the Easyberg (no relation to Joe Berg) tire balancer comes in.
An Amazon search will return about two dozen motorcycle tire balancers, and most of them look exactly the same. The Easyberg was the cheapest at the time I bought it, but prices sway back and forth depending on which seller is having a sale or coupon deal. I paid $36 for the balancer and there is no way I could build one as nice for that amount of money.
My Easyberg came unassembled. It was Easybarrak to assemble the thing, requiring only an open end wrench and a hex wrench. A tiny screwdriver was needed to tighten the bubble level.
Once assembled, the Easyberg I received was slightly tweaked. The axle did not run parallel to the base making the tire sit crooked in the stand. The Easyfoil material is thin enough that I could tweak it straight. Any warpage of the base due to the tweaking process can be taken out by the four, adjustable feet. I used a four-foot level on top of the axle to check the bubble and it was fairly accurate. I’m not sure being perfectly level is all that critical, but I set it up that way.
Using the balancer is Easyberg as pie. You slide the axle through the wheel and snug up the centering cones using the supplied Allen wrench to lock the cones into position. This next step is where the Easyberk…I mean berg, is better than jack stands. The four ball bearings supporting the axle spin much Easyburger than the bearings found in your motorcycle wheel; this free movement allows a finer balance. ¼ ounce of weight will cause the wheel to move.
I give the Easyberg four stars (out of five) subtracting one star due to the thing being crooked. Otherwise it’s Easilyberk worth the $36. I’m now fully set up to change motorcycle tires. At the speeds I run, usually less than 100 MPH this balancer does a good enough job and my limited riding skills can’t detect any wheel vibration at highway speeds.
Zongshen ended production of its iconic RX3 motorcycle and CSC sold the last of its RX3 inventory. I was tangentially involved in bringing the RX3 to America and I had a ton of fun on that motorcycle. Knowing that the RX3 is no longer in production is like hearing an old friend has passed away. In the end, the S-curve prevails for all of us, I guess. But it still hurts. The RX3 was and still is a great motorcycle.
An early clay mockup of what would become the RX3 in Zongshen’s Advanced Design center.
According to my sources in Chongqing, Zongshen first started thinking about a 250cc offroad and adventure touring motorcycle in 2010. Engineering development took about two years (excluding the engine). China’s initial and traditional 250cc was based on a Honda CG125 air-cooled engine, which evolved into 150cc, 200cc, and 250cc variants (the 250cc CG engine was actually 223cc; it is the engine that powers CSC’s current TT 250). The CG-based variants didn’t have the performance Zongshen wanted for its new adventure touring motorcycle, and that led Zongshen to develop a 250cc water-cooled, four-valve engine for Megelli in Italy. It went into the Zongshen NC250 motorcycle. This engine also went into the RX3.
Yours truly with former Sears president and CSC advisor Carl Mungenast on Glendora Ridge Road. I rode the CSC 150 Mustang replica in this photo to Cabo San Lucas and back.
For CSC, the Zongshen connection started with a search for a larger CSC 150 engine. The CSC 150 was the Mustang replica Steve Seidner designed and manufactured in 2009. I was already in China for another client, and it was only an hour flight from Guangzhou to Chonqging for the initial visit to Zongshen. To make a long story slightly less long, CSC started purchasing the Zongshen 250cc engines for the little Mustangs. I think most of the folks who bought those Mustangs really didn’t care if it was a 150 or a 250. Both were capable bikes; my friends and I rode the 150cc version to Cabo and back. It was the 250cc Mustang engine that established the relationship between CSC and Zongshen, though, and that was a good thing.
When CSC’s Steve Seidner noticed an illustration of the RX3 on the Zongshen website, he immediately recognized the RX3 sales potential in the United States. Steve ordered three bikes for evaluation and he started the U.S. certification process. Steve and I did a 350-mile ride on two of those bikes through the southern California desert and we both thought they were great.
Showing the Zongshen execs in Chongqing possibilities for a ride in America. The Chinese sponsored the Western America Adventure Ride as a result of that discussion. It was awesome and the bikes performed magnificently.
Zongshen was not targeting the U.S. market when they developed the RX3; they thought the U.S. market had different requirements and consumer preferences. The initial RX3 design did not meet U.S. Department of Transportation lighting and other requirements. It was back to China for me to help set up the specs for the CSC RX3 and the initial order.
On the Western America Adventure Ride, we rode from southern California to Mt. Rushmore, back to the Pacific across the top of America, and down the Pacific Coast to return to Azusa. Here King Kong, Leonard, Hugo, and Tso emulate the American presidents at Mt. Rushmore.
On that early visit, the Chinese told me they wanted to ride in America. They sent over a dozen bikes and as many riders, and we had an amazing 5,000-mile adventure we called the Western America Adventure Ride. Baja John planned the itinerary and mapped out the entire ride; we even had special decals with our route outlined made up for the bikes. We let the media know about it and it was on this ride that I first met Joe Gresh, who wrote the “Cranked” column for Motorcyclist magazine. I made a lot of good friends on that trip. After the trip through the American Southwest, Zongshen invited Gresh and me on a ride around China, and after that, I was invited by AKT on a ride through the Andes Mountains in Colombia.
In Medicine Bow, Wyoming, on the Western America Adventure Ride. Two Colombians also participated, which resulted in an invitation to ride in Colombia.On the road in the Andes Mountains. The sign says the elevation is 3950 meters (that’s 13,000 feet above sea level).Joe Gresh and I gladiating near Liqian, China. The China ride was the adventure of a lifetime.
At CSC, we had a lot of discussions on the initial marketing approach. We were looking at a $50,000 to $100,000 hit for an advertising campaign. Maureen Seidner, the chief marketing strategist for CSC and co-owner with Steve, had a better idea: Sell the bikes at a loss initially, get them out in the market, and let the word spread naturally. We knew the price would stabilize somewhere above $4K; Steve’s concept was to sell the bike for $2995. Maureen had an even better idea. $2995 sounded like we were just futzing the number to get it below $3K; Maureen said let’s make it $2895 for the first shipment instead. I wrote a CSC blog about the RX3 and CSC’s plans to import the bike. When I hit the Publish button on WordPress for that blog, the phone rang literally two minutes later and I took the first order from a guy in Alaska. Sales took off with CSC’s introductory “Don’t Miss The Boat” marketing program.
I wrote another CSC blog a week later saying that I was eager to get my RX3 and ride it through Baja. I thought then (and I still think now) that the RX3 is the perfect bike for Baja. The bike does 80mph, it gets 70mpg, it has a 4-gallon gas tank, and everything you needed on an ADV touring machine was already there: A skid plate, good range, good speeds, a six-speed gearbox, a comfortable ride, the ability to ride on dirt roads, panniers, a top case, and more. We started getting calls from folks wanting to ride with me in Baja, and the orders continued to pile in. That resulted in our doing an annual run through Baja for RX3 owners. We didn’t charge anything for the Baja trips. It was a hell of a deal that continued for the next four or five years. I had a lot of fun on those trips and we sold a lot of bikes as a result.
The Western America Adventure Riders in Arizona. This photo is prominently displayed in the Zongshen main office building lobby. That’s Baja John in front; he did nearly all the work organizing the ride.
CSC’s enthusiasm surrounding the RX3, the CSC company rides, and CSC’s online presence did a lot to promote the RX3 worldwide, and I know Zongshen recognized that. I visited the Zongshen campus in Chongqing several times. One of the best parts of any Zongshen visit for me was entering their headquarters, where a 10-foot-wide photo of the Western America Adventure Ride participants in Arizona’s red rock country dominated the lobby.
The RX3 was controversial for some. RX3 owners loved the bike. A few others found reasons to hate it, mostly centering around the engine size and the fact that the bike came from China. I spent a lot of time responding to negative Internet comments until I realized that the haters were broken people, there was no reasoning with them, and none were ever actually going to buy the motorcycle anyway. These were people who got their rocks off by throwing rocks at others.
When RX3 production ended recently, I contacted one of my friends at Zongshen and I thought you might enjoy some of what he told me. Zongshen sold 74,100 RX3 motorcycles (35,000 in China; the rest went to other countries including Mexico, Colombia, other South American countries, Singapore, Turkey, and the United States). Colombia alone purchased 6000 units in kit form and assembled their bikes in Medellin. I watched RX3 motorcycles being built in the Zongshen plant in Chongqing; I was also in the AKT factory in Colombia and I saw the RS3 (the carbureted version of the RX3) being built there. Ultimately, RX3 demand dropped off, but 74,100 motorcycles is not a number to sneeze at. The RX3 greatly exceeded Zongshen’s expectations and their initial marketing forecasts, especially in overseas markets. CSC had a lot to do with that success, and playing a minor role in that endeavor has been one of the high points of my life.
The CSC 650cc RX6 twin cylinder motorcycle. The Chinese motorcycle industry is moving to larger displacement bikes.
Chinese motorcycle companies today are emphasizing larger bikes. We’ve seen that here with the CSC RX4, the 400cc twins, and the 650cc RX6. I’ve ridden all those bikes and they are great. I like larger bikes, but I still think a 250cc motorcycle is the perfect size for real world adventure riding. I think the emphasis on larger bikes and the decision to drop the RX3 is a mistake, but I haven’t sold millions of motorcycles (and Zongshen, with CSC’s help, has).
That photo you see above at the top of this blog? It’s good buddy Orlando and his wife Velma riding their RX3 up to Dante’s View in Death Valley National Park. Orlando thinks blue is the fastest color, but I know orange is. Sue and I recently visited Death Valley again; watch for the ride reports here on the ExNotes blog.
You can learn only so much from watching Utube videos. To get proficient at welding you have to actually weld, and weld a lot. This is where New Mexico State University comes in handy. I signed up to be an Aggie for Welding 102 with Mr. Hurt in the hope my shabby attempts at welding could be improved.
Welding 102 is the NMSU starter course, ground zero. For the first few classes we dwelt on safety stuff and spent the time gathering the needed tools of the trade. Steel toe boots were required and I couldn’t find a pair cheaper than $200. I had most of the other stuff: welding helmet, fire resistant shirt, chipping hammer, pliers, safety glasses, welding gloves and a wire brush. It’s a lot of gear and if you’re starting from scratch you’ll be $300 or more into the deal before striking a bead.
Welding 102 is not cheap either. The course runs $500 and is two days a week, 1 1/2 hours each class. I’m not sure how long a semester lasts but I plan on going until they tell me to stop. Most of the cost of welding 102 is materials. NMSU provides all the steel, gas, welding rods and other consumables. It’s fair: I can burn up $20 worth of rod in one sitting.
Arc welding (or MMA, Manual Metal Arc) is the first type of welding we are learning. It requires the least expensive equipment and the fewest bits and pieces. You have a buzz box, the rod, and the material to be welded. The first thing we did was run 6-inch beads on a 3/8-inch plate of mild steel. You started at the top and ran a bead across then started a second bead just below the first bead and overlapping onto the first bead a little. We used 6010 rods, which is a fast freeze metal. The rod makes coarse ripples as you move along, freezing only a fraction of an inch behind the molten puddle.
I had a hard time with 6010. After I finished filling my plate with beads Mr. Hurt said I needed to work on my bead width consistency. So I turned the plate 90 degrees and started again, bead after bead. I still sucked. Turning the plate once again I laid beads over the other two layers of metal. My plate was getting heavy and was warping like a taco.
Mr. Hurt opened the welding shop on a Saturday for us uncoordinated kids who need more practice. I welded on my 6-inch square plate of mild steel from 9:00 a.m. until 1:00 p.m. and the thing was approaching ¾ of an inch thick when Mr. Hurt said that it was enough. I could never weld that many hours with the Vevor 130 welder I bought on Amazon.
Through all the practice I was getting better at seeing the welding process. I still couldn’t see where I was going but I could see the puddle, puddle width and was getting the tiniest bit more consistent.
7018 is the next rod we are tackling. It’s the same process: cover a 6×6 steel plate with beads overlapping beads. The 7018 was easier to control and the beads have a more uniform appearance. 7018 is more liquid (slower cooling?) than 6010 so the ripples between the puddles are less pronounced and not as coarse. 7018 is a low-hydrogen rod, whatever that means. It is kept in a 250-degree oven so that the flux doesn’t absorb hydrogen from the atmosphere.
Each student has their own welding booth complete with a table, smoke extractor and arc shielding curtains to keep from flashing other kids. A blind welder isn’t much use to anyone.
Our class of 13-ish started out with two women but they both dropped out after the third class. I don’t know why. There is no gender-based physical limitation to be a welder. Eyesight and a steady hand are more important than brute strength. There is one other geezer in our class; the rest is made up of younger guys looking to get into welding as a trade. I just want to know how to use the machines I bought.
The university provides Miller equipment and these things are beasts. They will do arc, wire feed with gas and TIG welding. You can run them 24 hours a day. They don’t overheat or shut down. If you were running a welding shop this is the way to go.
I feel like I’ve made some progress with my welding. That long Saturday session really helped. Welding 4 hours straight will calm your nerves right down. I’m still nowhere close to being Vulcan. There are a many more types of welding to learn. NMSU has three more welding courses, each more advanced than the previous. If you manage to complete them all you will be Vulcan at the end. Live long and prosper, my brothers.
I spent most of the morning in the garage, organizing my reloading bench and the tons of components I have stacked in, on, under, and around it. I rearranged a good chunk of my 9mm brass (I probably have something north of 4,000 empty 9mm cases, enough to keep me in Parabellum paradise for the rest of my natural life). I’m waiting on a part for my Lee turret press (Lee is sending it to me at no charge), and when it gets here I’ll start reloading 9mm again. It’s become a favorite cartridge, but more on that in a future blog.
Busy real estate, my reloading bench is. Those coffee cans are chock full of 9mm brass.
As part of the garage cleanup and reorg effort, I pushed the Royal Enfield out so I could sweep the floor. A young lady who lives in the neighborhood was walking her dog when she spotted the Enfield. “It sure looks like a nice day for a ride,” she said. We chatted for a bit and then I thought about her comment. It really was a nice day for a ride. We’ve had rain big time for the last couple of weeks (don’t believe the lyrics…during the winter it rains a lot in California), and today we finally had a day that was bright and sunny. I did what anybody would do…I closed up shop and fired up the Enfield.
The nice thing about the winter rains here in So Cal is that when the clouds disappear we see the San Gabriel Mountains blanketed in snow. It really is quite beautiful. I started a ride into the mountains to get a good shot of the Enfield with the snow-capped mountains as a backdrop, and then I realized it was already 1:15 p.m. I had a 2:00 appointment with Doc Byrne, my chiropractor. I stopped for the quick shot you see above, and then it was over to the doctor’s office.
People who see a motorcycle parked in front of a chiropractor’s office should probably realize the doctor knows his business. My guy does, and another plus for me is that he is a rider. We’ve had some interesting conversations about motorcycles while he works his magic. I’m a big believer in chiropractic medicine.
A motorcycle parked in front of a chiropractor’s office. What’s wrong with this picture?
After getting my back straightened, I pointed the Enfield north and wound my way into the San Gabriels. I was looking forward to a late lunch at the Mt. Baldy Lodge, and I was not disappointed.
The Mt. Baldy Lodge, a favored destination in the San Gabriel Mountains.
I like the Mt. Baldy Lodge. It was busy (that was good), although like a lot of places their prices have climbed irrationally (that’s not so good). I ordered a turkey melt sandwich and paid the extra $2.00 for onion rings instead of French fries (not exactly a healthy option, but it was delicious).
As soon as I sat down at the bar, a younger guy (they’re all younger these days) who was shooting pool asked if I came in on the Enfield. “Guilty,” I answered.
“Cool,” he said. “I had an Enfield about 10 years ago, but I crashed and the insurance company totaled it.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell him that the Interceptor was only introduced about four years ago. I had no interest in a conversation with a guy who was obviously making it up as he went along. Better he should find a job with the news media or in politics, or maybe as an Ivy League university president. (Does that count as politics? We don’t do politics here on ExNotes, you know.)
I enjoyed my sandwich and the onion rings. I didn’t eat the whole thing, which somewhat eased my guilt pangs (I’m having a weight loss contest with Baja John, and he’s kicking my ass). I was having a good day. There’s something about a motorcycle ride into the mountains, sitting at the bar in the Mt. Baldy Lodge, having a good lunch, and listening to the pool table balls clicking and clacking that just feels like all is right with the world. I had a great ride and a great lunch, but it was getting late and the outside temperature was starting to drop. I knew I’d better head home. Even though it was cold, I enjoyed the ride down out of mountains as much as the ride up. The next time I see that young lady walking her dog, I’ll thank her for her suggestion. She was right; it was a nice day for a ride.
So, in case you are wondering why you received a notification email about the new Janus 450 Scrambler and the link didn’t work…well, that was a case of operator error. I hit publish before I should have, which triggered the email notification, and then I took the blog down so I could repost it on 23 February. But the email notification had already gone out. I reposted the blog on the 23rd (like I was supposed to do to first time), and you can view it here. My fellow blogistas have warned me that they are going to lop off yet another finger if I screw up again, so I have to be careful. I only have a few fingers left, and it’s getting hard to type. Mea culpa, and all that…
The first time I cleaned the carburetors on the Kawasaki ZRX1100 everything went well except for the part about removing and installing the carbs back on the engine. The ZRX had sat for 9 years and it wasn’t running all that well when I parked it. The first carb cleaning saw new float needles installed and a general poking and cleaning of all jets and orifices.
The bike started up okay and ran fairly well, if a bit ragged at low RPM. This I chalked up to the four carbs needing synchronization. I didn’t have a carb sync tool so I just ran it like it was. It ran pretty good for 7000-8000 miles but became harder to start and really rough at any RPM below 2500. I put up with it because I dreaded removing the carbs again.
The old, original fuel hose started leaking where I had installed an inline fuel filter. No matter what clamp I used it leaked. Giving it a through examination I discovered the hose itself was rotten and the inner liner split. I pulled the hose off and sealed my fate. It was impossible to reach the hose connection buried between the carbs to install a new hose. Things had finally gotten so bad I had to fix the situation.
Removing the carbs was as dreadful as I remembered it to be. There’s not a lot of room between the air box and the intake rubbers so it was a bear (like an Ossa!) to remove the bank of four constant velocities.
Once on the bench the Kawasaki ZRX1100 carbs are pretty easy to work on. I ordered new carb kits and new fuel pipes that go between the carbs to supply fuel. The old pipes weren’t leaking but I didn’t want to go through this ordeal only to have them start leaking.
To install the new fuel pipes you have to un-rack the carbs and split them into individual units. The old pipes looked pretty crusty and I can see them puking fuel because I disturbed them once too often. I also wanted fresh plastic to replace the 24-year-old pipes. While I was at it I bought factory coolant hoses to replace the silicone ones that leaked when it was cold. The new hoses fit much better and should last the rest of my life. All in, I spent three hundred bucks with Dave at Southwest Suzuki/Kawasaki out on Highway 70.
Two of the pilot jets were clogged solid. I had just cleaned them a few months or 8000 miles ago. Possibly the rotten fuel line sent debris down stream and clogged the jets. In addition there are supposed to be tiny washers between the o-ring and the tension spring on the pilot jet adjusting screws. Three were missing and I must have lost them the last time I took the carbs apart. Without the little washers the tension spring digs into the o-ring shredding the thing. Any pieces of o-ring go right into the tiny idle transition holes on the floor of the venturi. So that’s on me. I swear, I never saw the things.
When I say the pilot jets were clogged I mean clogged. I soaked the pilot jets in Evaporust and tossed them into the ultrasonic cleaner: No joy. I had to use a single strand of copper from a fine strand electrical wire and work it for 20 minutes to get the things cleared.
The new Parts Unlimited carb kits came with all the stuff I needed, even those tiny idle mixture screw washers. I usually don’t use the jets out of kits because the quality is so suspect. In this case I decided to use them to be sure the pilots were clear enough. Besides, it couldn’t run any worse. I rechecked the float levels, one was a millimeter off, and assembled the entire mess.
The next day it occurred to me that I had installed the new jets without making sure they were actually drilled all the way through or that a bit of machining swarf hadn’t been left inside. So I took the float bowls off and ran copper wire through all four pilot jets and the main jets. It was good for my peace of mind. I also sprung for an OEM Kawasaki fuel line at a reasonable $12.
Because they are so hard to remove I try to be sure the carbs are not leaking by bench testing the floats and needles. This will save you a lot of work in the event something isn’t right. There’s nothing more depressing that fighting the carbs back into place only to have the things leak when you turn the petcock to On.
As you may have heard I was banned from the ZRX owner’s forum because I posted an ExhaustNotes light bulb review. It didn’t sit well with the members that were selling light bulbs. My new ZRX hangout is on Facebook called Banned ZRX members, or something like that. A lot of the same guys who were on the other site ended up there due to disagreements with the admin. Anyway, these ZRX guys suggested a thin piece of material between the air box and the rubber intakes to make replacing the carbs easier.
I had some thin sheet metal from a filing cabinet and used it to make two carb slider thingies. The sliders are held onto the engine by small bungee cords. I put a 90-degree bend in the sliders so they wouldn’t slip down in use. Those ZRX guys know their stuff, as it was a breeze to slide the carbs into position then remove the sheet metal. That’s half of a hard job made easy.
The Kawasaki ZRX1100 has a lot going for it in the maintenance department. The valves are easy to set clearances. The carbs use three simple, spring-loaded adjustment screws for synchronization, and there are no lock nuts to cause changes when tightened. The procedure is simplicity: You adjust the left set of two outside carbs, then adjust the right set of outside carbs, then adjust both sets of carbs to each other using a middle adjusting screw. It actually takes longer to write the carb sync procedure than to do it.
With all four idle circuits functioning correctly the ZRX starts up first push of the button. The bike pulls smoothly from idle all the way to redline. Having the carbs synced makes for a smooth transition coming off a stop and I don’t think the bike has ever run as good as it does now. I’ll be heading to Utah in June for the Rat Fink convention. It will be a lot more fun with the bike running like Kawasaki intended.
A long time ago I had a carburetor synchronizer that used mercury to measure engine vacuum. The synchronizer had four plastic tubes about twenty inches long, each tube was about a quarter-inch in diameter. On top of the rig were four rubber tubes that connected to your intake ports using the little hose barbs molded into the motorcycle’s intake manifolds. This machine worked well, the heavy mercury kind of dampened the vacuum pulses so you could get an accurate reading.
One problem with the mercury gauges was that sometimes, if you revved the engine too much, mercury would get sucked into the engine. The mercury never seemed to hurt an engine but it would pop and miss a bit, then toxic smelling fumes would come out the exhaust pipes for a while. The cure for this problem was to not rev up the engine with the mercury sticks connected.
My mercury gauges went under water in one of the floods that were common in the Florida Keys. Who knows where the mercury that was inside the gauges ended up. Probably in my fish sandwich 6 months later.
Another type of vacuum gauge uses four needle-and-dial mechanical gauges to measure the vacuum. These gauges would jump all over the place reacting to each vacuum pulse. The mechanical type came with plastic clamps that you would fit over each vacuum hose. By adjusting the pinching action on each hose you could slow down the needle reaction enough to be able to read the dials. I didn’t like this type so I threw them away after they sat on my shelf 27 years.
The Carb Tune vacuum gauge uses steel rods and springs inside plastic tubes. They are mostly like mercury gauges except the rods replace the mercury. There are clones of the Carb Tune available (maybe the Carb Tune is a clone of some other brand) but the clones are near enough in price that I sprung the ten bucks extra for the brand name unit.
The Carb Tune need a little work before you can use it. Included in the set is a blue plastic tube with a tiny hole through it that serves the same purpose as those hose clamper deals on the dial gauges. You have to cut the tube into four pieces and then cut each vacuum hose about 100mm from the end to insert the plastic tube into the hose. It’s no big deal but I wonder why Carb Tune didn’t go ahead and complete this final assembly step.
Once put together the gauges work great. The Carb Tunee is very stable and easy to read. Get all four rods even across the top and your carbs are synched. The third rod was stuck on my set but a light tap freed it up to move in the tube.
Normally the actual number of the gauge doesn’t matter; you are going for even-ness. If you had a bad cylinder or your valves were way out of adjustment it might show up on the vacuum gauge so that’s another good use for the Carb Tune.
I rate the Carb Tune gauges 5 stars even if it is a little expensive for what you get. I’m guessing the things are made in China and probably cost Carb Tune a couple bucks a copy. Still, that’s the capitalist system and I was a willing participant for many years so it would be hypocritical of me to bitch about it now.
