This blog outlines the first steps in setting up the Lee Classic Turret Press Kit. Although it’s easy, there are a lot of steps and it’s more than you or I want to cover in a single blog. I’ll present additional blogs covering this topic in the coming days.
The Lee Classic Turret Press includes good instructions. The kit includes the turrent press, the handle, a spent primer catch tube, primer arms, and hardware.
After the turret press has been secured to your reloading bench (you can view the Lee bench plate installation blog here), attach the primer catch tube to the barb fitting beneath the ram.
This barbed fitting on the ram underside captures ejected primers.The primer catch tube attaches to the barb.The primer catch tube installed. It’s nice not having primers falling out. This is a well-thought-through design.
Lee provides a clear plastic bag containing the hardware items you see below.
The handle bolt and fittings, the lock ring wrench, and two primer arms (one for small primers, the other for large primers).The handle attaching hardware.
You can install the press handle to operate the press from either the left side or the right side. I installed mine on the right side. To do this, install the bolt from the left side and the two fittings (one goes inside the other) on the right side of the ram linkage.
Intallation of the handle’s half-inch bolt and the fittings in the ram attach point.
Insert the press handle on through the fitting, and then tighten the bolt.
The handle installed on the Lee turret press.
After installing the press handle, you can operate the press to cycle the ram. Each time you do so by raising and the lowering the ram, the turret head will advance a quarter turn (or 90 degrees) counterclockwise. At this point, it’s a good idea to oil the ram, the ram linkage, and the turret. I used gun oil on my press. Lee states in their instructions that any gun oil will do.
The lower arrow points to the ram. The upper arrow points to the twisted 1/4-inch-square bar that cams the turret 90 degrees counterclockwise with each ram cycle. It’s a very clever design.
I’m going to initially reload 9mm ammo on my Lee turret press, so the next step involved installing the Lee Deluxe 4-die set in the turret. We’ve previously written about Lee’s Deluxe 4-die sets for other cartridges here on the ExhaustNotes blog (we’ll include a set of links below). In my opinion, they are the best dies available from any reloading equipment supplier.
Lee’s Deluxe 4-Die Set in 9mm.Lee’s Deluxe 4-Die Set includes a powder dipper, a shellholder, a resizing/decapping die, a powder through-hole expanding die, a bullet seating die, and the factory crimp die. Lee dies are the best dies I’ve ever used. They are also the least expensive.
I started by installing the 9mm shell holder in the ram. After installing the shell holder in the ram, I raised the ram all the way up.
The 9mm shellholder in the turret press ram.
I next installed the the decapper and resizing die in the turret head. With the ram fully raised, I screwed the sizing die into the ram until it contacted the shell holder, and then locked it in place with the locking ring.
The resizing die in the turret, locked in place by the locking ring.I raised the ram fully, and screwed the sizing die all the way down so that the bottom of the die contacted the shellholder. Then I locked it in place with the locking ring.
After doing the above, I lowered the ram and inserted a 9mm case in the shell holder. I then partially raised and lowered the ram halfway four times. That rotated the turret to position the sizing die directly above the ram again. You can also turn the ram manually. With the sizing die directly over the ram, I raised the ram fully. The sizing die resized the 9mm case, the old primer was pushed out of the case, and the primer was captured by the tube hanging beneath the ram.
A 9mm case in the turret press.Raising the ram to resize the case and push the spend primer out (the decapping operation).When the ram is lowered, the turret is cammed a quarter turn counterclockwise.
The next die, installed one position to the left of the sizing die, was the expander die. After raising the ram, I screwed it all the way into the turret such that it touched the shell holder, and I locked it in position with its locking ring. I then repeated what I had done earlier. I raised and lowered the ram halfway four times to bring the expander die back over the ram. I put the 9mm case into the shellholder and ran the ram up fully. It flared the case mouth perfectly, just enough to allow starting a 9mm bullet.
The expander die locked in place with its locking collar. This die is installed in the threaded turret hole one position to the left of the resizing die.A 9mm, 124-grain plated copper bullet being fit checked in the flared case mouth. I’m not going to seat the bullet yet (we’ll discuss that in a subsequent blog); here, it’s only being fit checked after the case mouth flaring operation.
I then installed were the last two dies. I installed the bullet seating die by partially screwing it into the turret’s third threaded hole, and then I installed the factory crimp die by partially installing it into the turret’s fourth threaded hole. I didn’t attempt to adjust the bullet seating die or the factory crimp die yet; that will come later and we’ll discuss this in subsequent blogs.
The bullet seating die is the third die installed in the Lee turret.The factory crimp die is the fourth die installed in the Lee turret.
Lee includes two priming arms and a lock ring wrench in the clear plastic bag containing the turret press hardware. You may have noticed that the four dies are right next to each in the turret. The lock ring is a clever tool that makes it a bit easier to tighten the four dies’ lock rings.
The Lee lock ring wrench (top view).The Lee lock ring wrench (bottom view).
Two days from now, I’ll cover installing and adjusting Lee’s auto-drum powder measure, and then after that I’ll have a blog on installing Lee’s safety primer feed. Stay tuned, there’s more coming on this awesome reloader.
When traveling I keep a loose schedule. I talk to people along my journey and gain insight on what is best to see, and just as importantly, what is best to avoid. In 2017 while sitting outside Starbucks somewhere in Washington state a couple asked where I was headed (I ride a GS1200; frequenting Starbucks is an ownership obligation). I didn’t have much of a destination in mind and the couple asked if I had my passport, which I did. They recommended visiting Toad Rock Campground in British Columbia. Just like that, Toad Rock Campground became my weekend destination.
I entered Canada through Idaho. It always seems once crossing the border everything just becomes more magnificent. Trees are larger, there is more wildlife, the mountains are higher, the water is bluer, you get the point. I crossed the Canadian border at Rykerts, B.C. This was a bit out of the way but it was what the couple had recommended. The main reason (besides 3A being a phenomenal road) was that I would take the World’s Longest Free Ferry across Kootenay Lake to Balfour. Once I disembarked the ferry in Balfour it was just a short hop to Toad Rock. It turns out taking the longer route was absolutely the right call.
Arriving at Toad Rock, I dismounted from the GS and went to check in. The lady running the camp stated it was full, but I could find a patch of grass in the back and set up camp. I signed in and paid (I want to say $10 CDN but don’t fully remember). She then looked at me, pointed and said, “If you’re an asshole I will throw your ass OUT!” To which I swiftly replied “Yes, Ma’am.” Later I found out she even makes motorcycle clubs remove their vests and colors to avoid any friction within the camp. This was all fine with me.
I rode to the back forty to find my piece of lawn, which was located well outside the wooded main area. The camp looked really cool with lights hung all through it to include a central gazebo with a stage, bar, and a very large refrigerator which was firmly held closed by a bungy cord. I asked someone what the deal was with this cord. They replied that there was a large pig that wandered the campground to scare the bears away and if you don’t bungy the refrigerator, the pig will open the door and drink all your beer. Interesting indeed.
My camp was set up by 13:00 and I discovered a local loop for an afternoon blast around southern B.C. The loop entailed riding Route.31 around to Route 6. From Route 6 I dropped down into Nelson, B.C. Nelson would make a great stopping point for a late lunch and has a quaint downtown area to walk around and stretch. The roads were in great shape and outside the mountain views being minimized from several wildfires it was a perfect June day to enjoy this part of the province. What made the day even better was stopping twice to jump into an ice-cold mountain stream that hugged the road to cool off. The streams were cold and refreshing, especially after riding in full gear during the peak of the day.
Upon leaving the streams my entire body would be tingling (like I just ate a piece of peppermint gum) from the extreme change in temperature it had just experienced. Having been fully refreshed from my swims it was time to eat. My stomach was growling for a burger just as I entered the town of Nelson. While eating a giant bacon burger and enjoying a cold Kokanee beer I suddenly heard a loud chopping through the air. I recognized that sound from years before. It was a Chinook helicopter coming to refill its water bucket in the lake to continue fighting the wildfires. Once that show was over and my burger was finished it was time to head back to Toad Rock and see what was going on at camp for entertainment. I would not be disappointed.
As I arrived at camp around 17:00 the pavilion in the middle was just getting warmed up and people were piling in serving drinks from the BYOB bar, retrieving beers from the refrigerator (and remembering to secure the beers from the thirsty pig), and talking with others. It wasn’t long before riders were randomly grabbing instruments to play music. Everyone was welcoming as they took turns sharing their motorcycle adventure stories.
At this point I realized we all were in the middle of a great motorcycle story just living in the present here. The festivities continued late into the night. As the night wore on and people slowly began to drift off to their campsites, I decided it was time to return to my tent as well. The only problem was I couldn’t find my campsite. I knew it was in the lawn section but that seemed impossible to find as I went by the same tents a few times as I wearily followed the colored lights strung throughout the trees. I began to worry that I’d have to locate the owner to ground guide me back to my campsite. Does meandering the campground hopelessly lost constitute being an asshole? It was at this moment I saw a familiar landmark that marked my tent location and I haphazardly slid into my home for the evening. This was a day that fully encompassed what being a motorcyclist is all about: Living in the present, embracing each moment, and bonding with fellow riders.
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In the northwest quadrant of New Mexico there’s a lonely, two lane highway numbered 371 that runs north from the small town of Thoreau on Interstate 40 to Farmington. About 30 miles south of Farmington, on the east side of Highway 371 is a place called the Bisti Badlands in the De-Na-Zin Wilderness. The Badlands are where you can find the ever-patient hoo-doo’s standing watch over mankind as we scurry around like red ants on our disturbed mound. Not ageless, the rock formations and strangely eroded pedestals found in the Bisti slowly change over time. Unless a stone topples to the ground you might spend a lifetime observing and never notice the backs of the old ones ceding to gravity’s incessant pull.
CT and I left Farmington around 9:00 a.m. and drove to the Bisti where we met Gilbert, who works as a guide for Navajo Tours USA, a Native American company that operates in Chaco Canyon and Shiprock as well as the Bisti Badlands. These guys are good and it’s not just me. National Geographic thinks so too.
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Gilbert is Navajo and has like 16 different jobs, guiding tourists through the Bisti being one of them. Along with Gilbert, me, and CT was Sasha. Sasha spoke with a heavy accent; she sounded like she was from an eastern European country or maybe Texas. Her husband and young son dropped her off at the Bisti parking area and as soon as they were satisfied we weren’t ax murderers they fled the scene. Sasha said they were tired of hiking around New Mexico and were going back to Farmington to rest.
Bisti Badlands is one of those places that doesn’t look like much from the parking area. There was only a sun-faded, Bisti Badlands map under scratched Plexiglas in an information kiosk to identify that we had arrived at the correct spot. The map looked as old and bleak as the landscape it described. I looked across a wide, shallow expanse of hard packed, barren dirt and wondered where the heck we were going to hike. I mean, there’s nothing out there. Do we just walk out into the center of the desolate valley? Gilbert laid out a northeasterly route that would hit some of the high points of the Badlands. We opened a red pipe gate, stepped high over a large diameter cross bar between the gateposts, and started hiking.
Gilbert and Sasha were way younger and fitter. At first they appeared to have an ambling pace yet I would have to break into a canter every few hundred yards to catch up with them. I tried matching Gilbert’s stride one for one but he still pulled steadily away. I decided he was using some secret Navajo walking method taught only to tribe members. Sasha I figured to be a hiking ringer, one of those chicks that walks 75 miles before breakfast and drinks raw egg smoothies.
After a couple miles of hiking we started to get into an area that resembled the promotional materials for the Bisti Badlands. Large stones sat atop thin spires of Tuff, relatively soft volcanic ash and debris that had solidified. But Tuff isn’t all that solid hence the ground underneath the stones eroded before the harder top rock. We walked past huge piles of what appeared to be broken terra cotta clay. Gilbert explained that the section we were in has a low-grade coal seam running just beneath the surface. In the shallow valley by the parking lot you could see the darker stripe of coal. When the coal catches fire it bakes the clay above changing its color to red. This joint is one big, open-air kiln.
At the Bisti Pyramid Gilbert stopped for a rest. CT and I sat down on a stone. Gilbert lulled us into a stupor with his gentle voice telling tales of the Badlands. Sasha ran around the crazy rocks snapping photos. She reminded me of a Jack Russell Terrier. Too soon we were on our way again.
Our surroundings became more surreal, like we were walking through a Salvador Dali painting. I realized that I had no idea where we were and was so turned around I couldn’t tell which way was back. Gilbert pulled us in for another rest break and told Sasha we were going to stay here until she got back and to not wander out of sight. Sasha went climbing around with her giant Canon DSLR getting shots of rocks from every conceivable angle. Sasha oozed vigor and health. I started to wish I had gone back to town with her husband and son. They were probably drinking in a smoky bar somewhere.
Gilbert told us stories about getting lost in the Badlands at night. I was thinking about the cold, clear New Mexico night and looked around. The only wood to burn was petrified. I sure didn’t want to start that coal seam on fire and end up like those baked clay fragments. Gilbert pointed me to a cell phone tower off in the distance. See that? he said. That tower is on Highway 371. If you get lost head for the tower; at night it has a flashing light on top.
We went further into the rough terrain; the flat lands were far behind. Stone shapes became more dramatic and impossible. We were in the Bisti Badlands proper and no mistaking it.
My feet were killing me. I asked Gilbert how much further before we start heading back to the cars. He said that we are almost at the turn around point. It had been ten miles at least, maybe more.
In the afternoon we started to head back. We were kind of quiet, just stumbling along in a near-death state of mind. I judged our distance traveled to be 25 miles. At last the parking area came into view. We were still 30 miles away but at least I could see our car and the restrooms.
At a turn in the path approximately 40 miles from the car parking area Gilbert said that Sasha wanted to explore the southern parts of the Bisti Badlands. We said to go on without us and that we would be fine as we could see the cars only 50 miles away. Gilbert said he would walk back to the cars with us to make sure and Sasha would wait for him to return where they could continue exploring the Bisti area. We made it on sore feet but we made it to the car. Gilbert showed us again on the map the route we had taken. I asked him how far we had traveled all total. Gilbert said 5 1/2 miles. And that’s how it is in the Bisti Badlands. Distances can be deceiving. If you are in the Bisti area look up Navajo Tours. You’ll have a fun hike and won’t get lost and die like the dumb tourist you are. I recommend them highly but don’t try to keep pace with Sasha.
Finding myself in Arizona in the winter months has become my norm. Arizona provides one of the better climates for riding and camping, and I can camp there without waking up next to a frozen Gatorade bottle in my tent (which happens way too often to me).
Over the past three years wintering here I had missed one of the more moving Veterans Day memorials, the Anthem Veterans Memorial in Anthem, Arizona. This fascinating tribute to our country’s Soldiers, Airmen, Marines, Sailors, and Coast Guard (no Space Force yet) is located just two minutes off Interstate 17.
I visited the Veterans Memorial on several occasions while stopping at the Starbucks in Anthem (insert BMW GS joke here) before riding to work in Phoenix or Tucson. What makes the Anthem Veterans Memorial so special is that on November 11th at 11:11, the sun aligns with the Memorial and shines directly through its five pillars (each pillar represents a branch of the military). That lights the Great Seal of the United States of America. The pillar heights correspond with the number of people in each branch (Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines, and Coast Guard).
This year when I rode my GS to Phoenix for routine maintenance, I saw the sign on I-17 for the Memorial. I looked down and it was 11:08. I had a chance to make it! Pulling in my clutch and clicking down two gears brought me to this new destination. It was exhilarating. I was literally racing the sun to be where I needed to be at 11:11.
I didn’t make it in time. Only five minutes or so had passed, but the eclipse of the Great Seal was not in totality anymore. That is how accurate this modern-day sun dial is. The radiant glow from it was still vibrant and even though it wasn’t in full on totality it was still very impressive.
Many people surrounded the Memorial this day; more than a few rode motorcycles here as a Veterans Day Pilgrimage. It is always a great day whenever I chat with Veterans, especially at such an impressive monument on Veterans Day.
Having been so close to seeing this Memorial at its peak has placed it on my 2023 list. I will join other Veterans riding to the Memorial and the festivities on this special day, and Starbucks will be part of the experience to meet my BMW GS ownership obligations.
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Our story on the Lee Classic Turret Press Kit continues. There’s a lot in the kit, and we’re presenting articles on each item (links for our earlier Classic Turret Press Kit, its contents, and other Lee-related blogs are included at the end of this blog). Today’s blog focuses on the Lee bench plate. The bench plate allows quick installation and removal of any Lee press, and its price is $39. The bench plate idea is a good one. I own a couple of Lee progressive reloaders and I don’t have extensive real estate on my loading bench. The Lee bench plate is the answer.
Here’s what you get in the Lee bench plate kit.
The Lee bench plate includes the lower plate, two Z-bars, four Phillips head screws, three panhead bolts with washers and nuts, and the upper plate.
The smaller upper plate bolts to the press base (the red casting that forms the base of any Lee reloading press). The larger lower plate bolts to your reloading bench. The two zinc plated pieces are Z-bars that screw into the lower plate and capture the upper plate bolted to the press. The upper plate has several holes that allow it to be attched to any Lee press. You can buy extra upper plates if you have other presses. It makes it easier to change presses on your bench.
The Lee bench plate includes everything you’ll need except the bolts required to attach the lower plate to your reloading bench (that makes sense because Lee doesn’t know the thickness of your reloading bench). You have to drill four holes through your bench to attach the lower plate. Here’s what the lower plate looks like installed on my reloading bench.
The lower plate attached bo my reloading bench.
After attaching the lower plate to your reloading bench, the next step is to attach the upper plate to the reloading press. I installed the upper plate on my Lee Classic Turret Press using the three panhead bolts, nuts, and washers Lee includes. Note that the press is inverted in the photo immediately below.
The upper plate attached to the press. The red arrow indicates the nub that prevents the press and upper plate from backing out. The press is upside down in this photo.
It’s not immediately apparent in the Lee instructions how to orient the upper plate (i.e., which side faces up). It should be installed such that the flat base of the plate is at the bottom, and the two lips on either side extend up. This will be more clear in the photos below.
Once the upper plate is attached to the press, the press and plate are set on the lower plate and the Z-bars can be secured to the lower plate with the four Phllips head screws Lee provides. The Z-bars capture the upper plate, securing the press to the lower plate and the reloading bench.
There are nubs at the end of the upper plate lips that catch the end of the Z-clamps (denoted by the red arrow), so then the Z-clamps are tightened, the little nub prevents the whole affair (upper plate and reloading press) from backing out.A macro shot showing the upper plate nub captured by the Z-bar.
Here’s the press mounted on the bench with the Lee bench plate. It’s a clever approach.
Lee turret press attached to the reloading bench with the Lee bench plate kit (right side).Lee turret press attached to the reloading bench with the Lee bench plate kit (left side).
If you have other Lee presses or reloading gear, you can purchase additional upper plates (Lee calls this part the steel base block) directly from Lee. Lee includes the mounting hardware (the panhead bolts, nuts, and washers) with each additional upper plate. Lee lists the other equipment items compatible with the bench plate in their instructions:
Classic Turret Press
Load-Master
Breech Lock Reloader Press
Breech Lock Challenger
Classic Cast
Breech Lock Classic Cast
Pro 6000 Six Pack Progressive
Red Base Pro 1000
Red Base 4 Hole Value Turret Press
Year 2018+ Pro 1000 Press
Year 2018+ 4 Hole Value Turret Press
Auto Breech Lock Pro Press
Automatic Processing Press & Automatic Case Primer
Auto Bench Prime
If you don’t want to purchase additional upper plates, you can make your own upper plate from 3/4-inch plywood. Lee includes a drawing in their instructions showing the dimensions of a plywood upper plate. That’s a nice touch. Lee also offers information on plywood bases for, as they describe it, “other color” presses. That’s a nice touch, too.
The key question in all of this is: Do you need the Lee bench plate? If you use one press only, the answer may be no. You could just mount your press directly to the bench and not use the plate at all. But if you own other Lee reloading gear (or another “other color” press), you might want to consider the Lee bench plate. Or, if you want to get your press out of the way to use your bench for other purposes (such as cleaning a gun), it makes sense. The bench plate greatly eases removing the Lee press for installing other equipment or to clear the bench. It’s a good idea and good value for the money. It makes sense for me.
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Susie and I recently visited the Franklin Automobile Museum in Tucson, Arizona, and while we were there I photographed their 1913 Thor Model U motorcycle. It’s a fascinating machine from many perspectives, one of which is what those guys had to do back in the day to start their motorcycles. Today, we have electric starters and fuel injection…hit the ignition, touch the starter button, and go. Turn back the clock 15 years or so and it was open the fuel petcock, close the choke, turn on the ignition, and hit the starter button. Turn back the clock 50 or 70 years and you have to add kickstarting to the mix. Go back a century or more (for this 1913 Thor, it would be a cool 110 years), and wow, you practically had to go to Thor University to learn the drill.
The 1913 Thor as viewed from the left side. The large lever extending up from the crank is the clutch. The drive chain on the left is one of two chains on this motorcycle. The left handgrip operates the throttle and the clutch. Think about that: Your left hand operated the throttle and the clutch.The 1913 Thor Model U on its centerstand. Note the rear wheel ground clearance, the bicycle pedals, and the chain on the right side. There’s no front brake; the bicycle pedals operate a rear wheel coaster brake, like you might have had on your Schwinn in the ’50s or ’60s.
Starting a Thor would keep a rider busy. The bike had to be on its rear wheel centerstand to get the rear wheel off the ground (why will become clear in a bit). Then you had to put the engine in gear by pushing the clutch lever forward. You might think that’s counter-intuitive. Read on, blog acficionados.
The clutch lever is on the left side of the motorcycle, and the “T” at the top operated the optional two speed transmission (as shown, the transmission is in first; turn the lever 90 degrees and it’s in second).
If your Thor had the the optional two speed rear hub transmission (a $40 option on top of the motorcycle’s $290 price in 1913), you would want to make sure it was in the high gear position. You do that by turning the T-handle on top of the clutch lever parallel to the motorcycle. Having the bike in second gear would make the engine easier to turn over; it would be like putting your bike in second for a run-and-bump start (and I realize as I type this how few readers will know what a run-and-bump start is). But we’re not going to run-and-bump this priceless 1913 Thor. Stay with me; this is going to get interesting.
Fuel petcocks under the left forward side of the fuel tank. The rear petcock allows fuel to flow to the carburetor. The forward petcock allows fuel to be removed for priming the cylinders or, as the owner’s manual states, “for any purpose.” It included a small cup for this purpose.The right side of the mighty Thor 1000cc twin. Those little protuberances on the outboard side of the valve covers (bear with me; I’ve been looking for an excuse to use the word “protuberance” all day) are where you dump raw fuel to prime the engine. No kidding.Another view of the priming port. The spring you see in this photo is the intake rocker return spring.
Next up: Prime the engine by taking a bit of fuel from the Thor’s fuel tank priming petcock and manually inject gasolina into the intake cups (the Thor has openings in its intake domes for this purpose…those Thor engineers thought of everything). Or, you could use the optional device on top of the fuel filler cap to extract a bit of fuel. Like I said, they thought of everything.
The right twist grip operates the ignition advance; the left twistgrip operates the throttle. The lever on the right handlebar is a compression release. It could be locked in the compression released position to hold the exhaust valves open.
You then retard the ignition timing via the right twistgrip (you read that right; the left twistgrip works the throttle) by twisting it clockwise. Having the ignition fire after top dead center, you see, makes it easier for the engine to catch a spark and continue running. So where’s the throttle? That’s on left handlebar. Open the left twistgrip a bit by turning it clockwise. It will stay where you leave it; there’s no return spring.
That funny little chrome lever on the right handlebar? It’s not a clutch (remember, that was ginormous lever to the left of the fuel tank). The little right-handlebar-mounted lever is a compression release. Pull it in, and it opens the exhaust valves to, well, release the compression. It makes it easier to pedal, and we’ll get to that momentarily. Maybe you didn’t believe me when I told you this was a complicated undertaking. Read on. It gets even more interesting.
Thor Plumbing 101: The “forward filling nipple” (Thor’s terminology; we’d call it a fuel filler cap) is where the gas goes. Thor recommended any “standard grade gasoline,” but advised straining it through a chamois first (things were different in 1913). The gizmo on top of the fuel filler cap extracts a bit of gas that can be transferred to the priming ports. The center cap is for oil; Thor also recommended straining the oil before pouring it into the oil tank. The third (and rearmost) device is a needle valve that should be left open to allow oil to flow into the reservoir immediately below the tank (and from there, to the engine).The Thor oil reservoir, complete with sight glass. That little petcock halfway down the oil line? Make sure it’s open before you start the motorcycle!
The Thor has a total loss lubrication system. That term, total loss, doesn’t describe how your 401K account is doing these days; it refers to how the engine uses oil. It uses and consumes it (it’s not returned or recirculated). Think of it as Autolube for four strokes. Ah, shoot, I’ll bet a lot of you are too young to know what Autolube is, too. Gresh can explain it later. Back to the main attraction, that total loss lubrication system…there’s an oil petcock halfway down the oil line on the left side of the motorcycle, between the sight glass and the crankcase. It needs to be open (you may void your warranty if operate the motorcycle with it closed). The Thor would consume a quart of oil every 50 to 300 miles depending on conditions and your riding style, but the tank carried a gallon, and with a top speed somewhere between 50 and 65 mph (again, depending on conditions, the rider, and whether or not you had the optional two speed transmission), it’s not likely you would run out of oil. “They smoke a lot,” one Thor expert told me, “so as long as you see blue smoke behind you, you’re good.”
The last bit of preparation involved closing the choke on that big tomato can Thor carb nestled in the V between the cylinders, and that involved two actions: Closing a thumbscew on the carb’s rear and screwing down a tapered knob on top.
All right…now we’re ready to get to the good part. You may have noticed that the Thor has two chains (one on each side of the motorcycle) and a set of pedals (like a bicycle). Once you have completed all the actions described above, you can get on the Thor and start pedaling like Lance Armstrong charging up the Col du Tourmalet (I say that figuratively; the good guys at the Franklin Automobile Museum are not going to let you climb onto their 1913 Thor). Your pedaling is going to drive the rear wheel via the chain on the right side of the motorcycle from the pedals’ chainring to the rear wheel sprocket. That’s going to spin the rear wheel and tire (which is why we wanted the bike on its centerstand), transmit the rotational inertia you generated through the rear-hub-mounted transmission, turn the drive chain on the left side of motorcycle, transmit your torque through the clutch (which we engaged earlier) and spin the Thor’s 61-cubic-inch V-twin. As you ponder all of that, be thankful that you’re not trying to crank the 1914 Thor’s larger 74-cubic-inch engine, and be thankful that I clued you into actuating the compression release. And finally, be thankful that you’re adding the rear wheel and tire’s flywheel effect to what you (the motive force in this cacaphony of early American motorcycle starting activities) have set in motion.
Once you’ve attained sufficient rotational inertia, release the right handlebar compression release. If Thor and the other ancient Norse gods are smiling, the engine will catch, and you’ll hear the opening chords of that delightful “potato-potato-potato” V-twin symphony we Americans love. As soon as you are sure the music will continue, pull that large left clutch lever rearward to disengage the clutch and reverse direction on the pedals (like you would have on the Schwinn you rode as a kid). As mentioned earlier, there’s a coaster brake back there; in fact, it’s the only brake on this motorcycle. While the engine is warming up, advance the ignition (with the right twistgrip), open the carb choke (it involves two actions, as mentioned above), and then, as the owner’s manual explains with early American Aurora engineering precision, apply “a trifle” of throttle (with the left twistgrip). The owner’s manual authors’ descendants, I’m sure, went on to become writers for Saturday Night Live in the early days when that show was still funny. One more thing…if it’s a cold day, Thor recommended placing a rag soaked in warm water around the carburetor’s float chamber.
Once everything is percolating to your satisfaction, roll the motorcycle forward off the stand (Pro Tip: Remember to disengage the clutch first), and while adjusting the throttle, feather the clutch lever forward to start moving. As you read this, think about simultaneously feathering that clutch lever and working the throttle with both of your left hands. Whew!
After writing and then reading the above, I think I’m going to step out into my garage and start my Enfield 650. By pressing a button. Just because.
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…to go for a motorcycle ride. On the other hand, I’m always finding reasons not to go to the gym. But I think I found a solution. Lately, I’ve been riding the Enfield to the gym. I’m more interested in getting on the motorcycle than I am in going to the gym, but if I ride the Enfield to the gym…well, you get the idea.
My Enfield at the gym.
There are usually two or three other guys who ride to the gym. Two have Harleys, another guy has a new Guzzi, and there’s even a Yamaha V-Max parked there on occasion. I’ve spoken with a few of those guys, and like me, they’re not spring chickens. I think they’re younger than me, but I suspect we’re all qualified for the Silver Sneakers subsidy. We’re old and we’re all trying to stay young. Such is the way of the world. The motorcycles help.
A Guzzi at the gym.These things are wicked fast.
We’re lucky here in California; we can ride pretty much year round. I’m at about 1700 feet above sea level, right at the base of the San Gabriel Mountains, and even in the winter months it’s usually in the high 60s or low 70s during the day. That’s perfect riding weather. It can get cold at night, but who rides at night?
Well, I guess I do, sometimes. Always by myself, and if it’s a night ride, it’s always short. There’s something about a late night ride that’s simultaneously invigorating and relaxing. The last few nights, it’s been warm enough. Everything seems more focused on a motorcycle at night. I hear the engine more clearly, and I see what the Enfield’s headlight wants me to see. I love the Enfield’s instrumentation, especially at night. It’s a simple two cup cluster…a tach and a speedometer. Just like my Triumphs were in the 1960s and 1970s. I really don’t need anything more. I rode a new motorcycle for one of the manufacturers a couple of weeks ago and the instrument cluster was way too complex. It had a brilliant TFT display and computer game graphics, but overall it was distracting and actually took away from the riding experience. Just a tach and speedo is all I need or want. Even the tach is kind of silly (I never use a tach to shift). But it looks, you know, balanced with the matching speedometer.
Cute, but a bit much and a bit distracting. Way more than I want in an instrument panel.
When I lived in Fort Worth about 50 years ago, I rode a Harley Electra Glide. All that motorcycle had for instrumentation was a speedometer and I never felt an info deficit. Late night solo rides were my favorite rides. Fort Worth summers were brutal (well over 100 degrees during the day and very humid). At night it would drop into the high 90s (still with tons of humidity), but it felt way cooler. Sometimes I’d stop for a cup of coffee at a 24-hour donut shop on Camp Bowie Boulevard. Sometimes I’d just ride, heading west toward Weatherford and the great beyond (once you pass Weatherford, there’s pretty much nothing until you reach Midland/Odessa). One time I realized it was time to go home when I saw the sun coming up.
Back to the Enfield: It’s a much better motorcycle than the Electra Glide ever was and it’s a hoot to ride. Circling back to my opening line, riding to the gym makes for a good excuse to get on the bike. Not that anyone ever needed an excuse to go for a motorcycle ride. But it defeats the excuses I make for myself when I don’t feel like going to the gym.
With Mai Chau being in our rear view mirrors, we just had one challenge left to overcome as riders in Vietnam: The chaotic traffic in the massive capital city of Hanoi. This was something we were both mentally prepared for and we had watched videos to somewhat provide us an idea on what to expect, but it would take more than me honking my little pink horn to navigate through this massive Asian city. As we rolled down the CT08 Highway into Hanoi the road didn’t seem too hectic, although I bounced off a car once or twice due to the limited real estate on the road.
Exiting the highway and entering surface streets the traffic increased exponentially, and we were separated several times. This was exactly why we had brought the Sena headsets, whereas in America we would never have even thought of using these devices. The road was about four American lanes wide, but it was easily fitting 8 to 12 vehicles on average. The vehicles ranged from Terminators, to cars, to little motos like ours, and everyone was cutting in and out constantly.
Another valuable driving lesson we learned was don’t drive defensively, but instead drive with purpose and intent. In doing so you will fit into the chaos and become part of the herd. Any second guessing yourself, braking, or quick acceleration will cause a ripple effect. That action will initiate others to stutter step and will most likely result in an accident; this was something we would rather avoid. Having mounts for our phones was another tip that proved invaluable. We could simply set our directions into it and place the phone in airplane mode to preserve the battery. Google Maps would remain on and guide us through these crowded streets filled with threats and obstacles.
Even with the GPS reliably guiding us through the madness we were rerouted several times due to the amount of traffic, getting split up, or having to focus on the many distractions that came in every form from every angle. Negotiating the rotaries was like entering a swarm of bees and trying to fit into our own little pocket without disrupting thousands of others that were searching for the same sanctuary in the lunacy. Upon arriving safely at our rental moto return point, we dismounted from our reliable steeds. They had been our life preservers over the past three weeks and 1,000+ miles through the concrete and plant jungles of this magnificent country.
Reflections
This journey through Vietnam, as with most journeys, was challenging mentally, physically, and especially emotionally. Vietnam reassured our feelings that the division between cultures and former enemies can be cured. Time provides a buffer between the anger and hatred and former times. One given about traveling is at times it can appear as though you go backward or forward in time. At that moment when Bobbie held the lady’s head and helped her in her final moments that lesson took hold in me. Helping a North Vietnamese would have been considered treason 70 years ago, but now it was not only the right thing to do but it a welcome gesture. Hours after the accident and thinking through it gave me hope that the political division in our country will be repaired. We are one people and our minor differences are indeed that: Minor. We sometimes tend to focus on the differences when we should be focused on the similarities.
Take the Iwo Jima photo above. We were riding by and a lady waved us down. They were planting a tree and were stuck, so I ran over without even taking off my helmet as it started to fall. We fixed it. A tree grows in Vietnam, and we helped.
I hope all of you reading this series enjoyed the read and were able to take something positive away from our experiences in Vietnam. I appreciate your support and you reading my writing. Thank you and be safe.
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Today I took the Model 60 to the range. All shooting was at the standard full size B21 police target and the distance 7 yards. I shot double action as fast as I could to see if I could keep them on the target. I did, as you’ll see below.
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The first load was with the 158 grain Hursman cast bullet (a truncated conical bullet with a flat point) and 2.7 grains of Bullseye. I loaded this ammo on my Star reloader with the bullet seater backed out to account for the longer 158 grain bullet. The Star did a nice job on these cartridges.
Here’s 50 rounds, shooting double action rapid fire (really rapid fire, as fast as I could while still hanging on to the front sight).
I was pleased with that target and the load. The load was light and easy to shoot. The Star can’t easily be adjusted for powder charge and I have it set up for wadcutter ammo, so all I changed was the bullet seating die. I didn’t even adjust the crimp; I just backed out the seater.
Next up was the same bullet (the 158 grain Hursman cast bullet), loaded with 5.4 grains of Accurate No. 5. I loaded this with the single stage RCBS Rockchucker.
The load was noticeably hotter than the first load, but not so much that it became unmanageable. Here’s 50 rounds of the above ammo on the B21. The brown areas that appear to be bullet holes are not holes on this target; that’s the sun shining through previous holes behind the target.
One shot went out of the 5X ring at 11:00. Eh, you can’t win them all. The guy in that target wouldn’t know the difference.
Then I shot another 50 rounds, this time wadcutter ammo. This was with the Gardner 148 grain powder coated double ended wadcutter bullet and 2.7 grains of Bullseye. I loaded this ammo on the Star.
These had three shots out of the x-ring, but I was really flying, doing my best to imitiate Ed McGivern. You know, you can make a double action revolver cycle faster than a semi-auto pistol. Ed McGivern could, anyway.
I had a good day at the West End Gun Club, but that’s stating the obvious. I don’t think I’ve ever had a bad day at the West End Gun Club, and I’ve been going there for close to 40 years. Here are the take-aways from today’s range session:
I found it was easy to shoot really, really fast with the Model 60 and still keep all shots on the target.
At this distance, all of the loads grouped about the same. I’d have to go out to 50 feet, I think, to see an accuracy difference.
The one most pleasant to shoot was the 158 grain Hursman bullet with 2.7 grains of Bullseye, and at this distance, it was accurate. It’s a nice load. That load had less recoil than the same load with the 148 grain wadcutter bullet. I think that’s because the 148 grain wadcutter bullet has more bearing area so the pressure is probably higher. After returning from the range, I loaded the remainder of my Hursman cast bullets with this load.
The gun shoots to point of aim with all three loads.
The Model 60 is a wonderful handgun and shooting a snubnose .38 is fun. The keyboard commandos can wax eloquent about the need for 20-round magazines in the latest Wunder 9; five shots from a Model 60 does it for me.
As if the day weren’t perfect enough, someone left 250+ pieces of once-fired 9mm brass on the range. I ordinarily would not use range brass and Lord knows I have plenty of 9mm cases, but this was pristine stuff and I could see that it had never been reloaded. It’s in my blood, I guess; I can’t leave good brass laying on the ground (it was in my tumbler 10 minutes after I got home).
There are three outfits that I recommend you consider if you’re reloading .38 ammo and if you want your handgun to perform well. The first is TJ’s Custom Gunworks. TJ did the action job and polishing on my Model 60, and his work is beyond stellar. The next is Lance Shively’s TriggerShims.com. If you want to assure your cylinder gap is what it’s supposed to be to assure smooth cycling and minimize misfires, Lance’s shims will do the trick and they are inexpensive. The next is Lee Precision reloading gear. I am migrating to near-complete use of Lee equipment, and I used a Lee Deluxe 4-die set when loading the .38 ammo on a single stage press. I recently acquired a Lee four turret press as part of a Lee Precision package deal. I’ve always been completely satisfied with the gear I’m using from Lee. Watch for a near-term blog on the four turret press kit. I’m eager to get it into service, and when I do, you’ll read about it here.
Two more things: Here’s a link for the B21 targets you see above (they’re different and they’re fun to shoot). And, I frequently get compliments on the Altamont grips my Model 60 wears. They make the gun much more comfortable to shoot and they don’t print if you’re carrying concealed. If you want a set of Altamont grips, a good place to get them is on Amazon.
There are a couple styles of these Chinese heaters. I bought the all-in-one, suitcase version. My Chinese heater came mostly assembled and all I had to do was rig up the included exhaust pipe, air intake, output duct, and connect a 12-volt battery. If you’re going to install the heater in a van I think the version broken into separate parts would be a better choice. In fact, maybe it’s the better choice regardless.
My suitcase Chinese heater works okay but you can smell diesel fuel even when it’s not operating because the fuel tank cap is vented. It’s not a strong smell and my shed is pretty drafty. If my shed was sealed tighter the fumes would be more noticeable. The heat output has no diesel smell but it has some sort of odor I can’t quite place, maybe it’s the plastic housing covering the heater cooking off or it could be the smell of air on hot aluminum. Anyway, it’s not an objectionable smell and I remain fully conscious when the heater is running.
Installation was a breeze and only took about 30 minutes. I mounted the unit on two recycled pieces of 2×6 form wood to get the exhaust pipe high enough to go over the shed sill and punched a 1-inch hole in the shed wall for the combustion gas exhaust.
For the combustion air intake I simply strapped the air filter to the side of the heater with a tie wrap. I was kind of excited to see if the Chinese heater would actually heat so I hung the output pipe in mid-air and connected a 12-volt lawn mower battery for power.
My unit came with the cheapest controller available and maybe that’s because I bought the cheapest available heater. I can’t say. The poorly written installation manual gave a “5-push on the unit’s start-stop button while holding the remote control button down” type of pairing instruction. After a few tries I was surprised that the remote control linked up with the heater and could turn the machine on and off. In Chinese Heater: Part 1 I mused about replacing the control with a fancier unit but after seeing the el cheapo in action I’ll just stay with it until it breaks.
These Chinese heaters follow an automated start up process. First the blower comes on at slow speed, then the glow plug (or igniter) starts heating a small metal screen in the combustion chamber. Next, the fuel pump starts pulsing to supply fuel to the combustion chamber. A few minutes after pushing the on button you’ll hear the fuel ignite with a muffled roar and the blower will pick up speed. In the final step the glow plug turns off and the unit burns the diesel fuel from the red hot metal screen. If anything goes wrong with the startup the heater will try again. You really get an amazing amount of technology for 120 bucks.
Of the ten times I’ve started it my machine failed to launch once, but on the next try it was ok. The heater puts out a fairly good stream of heat and in a smaller space it would work well. Unfortunately, my large, steel shed has zero insulation and gaping holes everywhere so the unit had to be run flat out to effect any change in the shed temperature.
It took about 30 minutes to raise the shed temp from 42 degrees to 48 degrees and that was about as warm as it got. That’s still better than no heat at all. I think if I had three more Chinese heaters I could get it nice and warm inside.
Shutting down the Chinese heater takes about 5 minutes as the blower keeps running until the combustion chamber cools down. Shutdown is also fully automated and all you have to do is press the power button until the remote displays off and then wait. It’s probably not a good idea to cut 12-volt power to the unit during shutdown, as the plastic heater housing would probably not like that.
One of the reasons I recommend the break-down version is that you are free to mount the fuel tank outside. In fact, you could mount the entire unit outside and poke two holes for a return air and hot air registers. Mount the control panel on the wall and you don’t even have to go outside to turn the little beast on. Outside installation would eliminate any diesel odors, as you would have only warm air pumping into your shed. The entire combustion cycle would be on the other side of the wall, free to stink up the planet.
Noise is another concern that favors outside installation. My Chinese heater made a bit of noise. You hear the burning process, it sounds like a furnace kicking in but quieter and the blower makes normal blower noises depending on what power level the machine is operating. The fuel pump has a slight ticking noise that isn’t noticeable at high power/high blower speed. As you turn down the heat output the blower gets much quieter and the pump ticking becomes more noticeable. None of this matters in my situation because it’s a shed and I run the heater at full power all the time. The heater isn’t so loud that you can’t carry on a conversation standing next to it.
Once I was sure I was going to keep the little heater I bent a piece of sheet metal to hold the ductwork. Without a brace the hose kind of wiggled around, describing a figure eight in space.
As a test, I marked the fuel level of the see through tank and added 1 quart of diesel fuel. The heater ran over two hours at full power on that quart. Of course if you turned it down like you would in a van or RV it would burn even less fuel. 1.7hz was the lowest power setting, meaning the fuel pump cycled 1.7 times per second. 5.5hz was the highest setting. I’m not sure it works like this but if 5.5hz burns a quart every two hours then a setting somewhere south of 3hz should double your fuel mileage and halve your heat output.
Since the shed is off-grid and runs on solar power I have tons of 12-volt DC power available. There are 12 deep cycle batteries on a rack outside the building and a 12-volt breaker panel but I don’t have any conduit to where the heater is located. These heater units use a good bit of DC power when first starting, maybe 8 amps or so. Once the glow plug shuts off the unit runs on the red-hot screen that surrounds the glow plug, kind of like an old Cox .049 model airplane engine. With only the blower running my 2-amp trickle charger kept up with the demand. If you are using the heater in a van make sure you don’t drain your battery running the heater.
I’ve ordered a temporary, 15-amp, 12-volt power supply to run the heater off 120VAC. Eventually I will get around to connecting the heater to my battery bank. There is a drop of around 1-volt between what the remote display says is available at the heater and the actual battery voltage measured at the battery terminals. I might run some heavier wires to the heater control board. Most likely I won’t worry about the voltage drop because I just like saying voltage drop.
From my online research the only parts that go wrong with these Chinese heaters are glow plug failures and blower motor bearings. These problems don’t seem to crop up until a few years have passed. Parts are available and cheap for the heater so it should last a good long time with regular service. After a few years of running dirty fuel oil the combustion chamber may soot up requiring a clean out. Again, the gasket kits needed for this procedure are easy to find online. There’s a vibrant Chinese heater community on the Internet. It’s like owning a CSC RX3 adventure motorcycle.
The heater works and it produces heat, which is all it promised to do. My unit is rated at 8kw, which works out to 27,000 BTUs. I’ll still need to wear a jacket in the winter. Future modifications may be to relocate the combustion air intake to the outside so I don’t suck my hard-earned, heated shed-air into the combustion chamber and out the exhaust. Maybe I’ll move the whole magilla outside. A carbon monoxide alarm in the shed wouldn’t hurt either. I think if your shed is maybe 20 X 20 feet and well insulated the Chinese heater would work well. If you are into the Van Life thing a Chinese heater could be just the ticket to stay warm without running the van engine.
In the future I’m going to try recycling my used motor oil at 25% used oil to 75% diesel. I have a lot of old motor oil and I might as well use it to heat instead of pouring it into the Autolube tank on my Yamaha like my buddy Hunter does. If you decide to get one of these heaters let us know how it works for you.
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Here’s 50 rounds, shooting double action rapid fire (really rapid fire, as fast as I could while still hanging on to the front sight).
