The title of this post sums up how my my build is going. My grand plans of a bad-ass bobber are being derailed by the fact that I can't get the little whore clutch to work.
Today started off well enough. I took an hour ride up north to Timonium, MD for a swap meet where I picked up some nice schwag. I scored a horn and cover ($2), spring for the solo seat I don't own yet ($10), a cool gas cap with some spikes coming off the sides ($15), a K&N air filter ($5) that needs a good cleaning and re-oil, and a fat gas tank ($25) that I hope I can modify to sit high up on the frame.
I loaded up all my new toys and headed home, motivated to dig into my troubled clutch problem.
The problem with the clutch is that it doesn't work. When I pull in the clutch lever I get nothing. The bike stays in gear. I initially tried adjusting the cable but couldn't get the bike to roll free when in gear. I decided it was time to take off the primary cover and see what the inside looked like.
I thought it was time to try out my new bike lift. I situated it under the frame and pumped it up about a foot. The lift seemed to work out well until I realized I couldn't drain the primary oil while on the lift because I couldn't fit a pan under it without the oil spilling out everywhere, so I dropped the bike, or at least tried to. I'm not sure what happened but the lift "stalled" and wouldn't come down. After fiddling with it for 15 minutes, and calling it a cunt in English and Italian, I pushed the bike off the lift. This sounds graceful but it wasn't. Luckily I didn't drop the bike on the ground or on me. Once the weight was off the lift went down and I rolled it out of the way. I drained the oil, then pumped it back up.
Once I got the primary cover off I didn't see any more issues inside the primary. The oil inside was fairly clean, but it seemed like there wasn't much oil (more on this later). I played around with the clutch assembly for a while, figuring out how it worked, then put the primary back on. Still nothing. I repeated this two are three times before consulting with my trusty Clymer manual, which instructed me to remove the clutch adjusting cap. I realize that would have been a logical place to start, but the thing was completely unwilling to loosen no matter how hard I wrenched on it was five different pliers and wrenches.
It was time for the big guns. I pulled out a big monkey wrench and a rubber mallet and talked dirty to it until it finally came free.I followed the manual's directions for adjusting the clutch about ten times, and still couldn't get the clutch to disengage. By process of elimination I determined (guessed) that the clutch plates were stuck together, probably from a lack of oil. I started to loosen all the nuts on the clutch plate but there felt like a lot of pressure from the clutch spring. I didn't have enough balls to let loosen them all the way, and that turned out to be a good thing, because I never wouldn't have gotten them back on as there is apparently a tool for this, which I of course don't have.
A quick consultation with the interweb taught me that I can make this tool with some threaded rod, a few buts, and a piece of flat bar, which I will pick up at Home Depot this week and try this process again next week.
In short, my build is going no where.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Friday, February 8, 2013
Parts
Let me start by saying that going to my first swap meet was kind of like having sex for the first time in that: 1) It was awkward but fun. 2) I got sweaty and smelled a little funny when it was over. 3) I knew it was going to be an expensive "hobby".
To put it another way, swap meets are great places to get all those parts you never knew you needed.
With such modest budget for my project ($3000 total and I spent $2500 on the bike) I plan on scrounging as many parts as possible from eBay and swap meets. Since my "donorcycle" is actually in pretty nice shape I also plan on selling the parts I rip off it to supplement the budget.
A few weeks ago I went to a meet up near Baltimore and scored some great parts at fantastic prices. Since I'm not 100% certain on the direction of the project, I was a little scatter-shot at the meet and bought whatever seemed cool to me at the time. A great example is the fact that within fifteen minutes I bought z-bars ($2) and 16" ape hangers ($10), which are obviously about as stylistically opposing as you can get.
Moving on.
Besides the two sets of bars, I also picked up a Harley tool box ($4), a pair of chrome pegs ($2), an S&S air cover ($5), and a set of low profile blinkers for my Springer ($10). I'm not sure I would want the tool box on the bike because it is a little clunky looking, but I just couldn't pass up such a good deal.
To round out the project I decided to splurge and buy a Santee bolt-on hardtail off eBay for $195, shipping included. While I think the weld-on hardtails look better, and I actually considered going the weld-on route, I then had a mental image of my welds giving way at 80mph on the highway, and the horrible carnage that would ensue, then opted for the bolt-on. I know how to use two wrenches and have a big tube loc-tite, so I think I can manage the bolt-on just fine and will probably live a more fruitful life because of it.
Some other things on my wish list are: solo "bates" style seat with springs, taillight, one round ear view mirror, and possibly an oil tank that has a battery holder incorporated into it. My bike is right side shift, which will inevitably confuse the shit out of me since I'm in the habit of braking with that foot, so I will likely remove that lever and replace it with a jockey shifter, so might as well throw that on the list too.
This morning I won a vintage "Unity" headlight on eBay, that frankly I forgot I even bid on. I know they reproduce these, but judging by the wiring and pitting on this, it probably is old, and even if it isn't it still looks cool, so screw. I paid $20 with shipping for the light, so I can't really get hurt at that rate, I can always resell it if I don't like it. I'll probably touch up the red paint where it says "Unity" then sand the case and spray it black.
To put it another way, swap meets are great places to get all those parts you never knew you needed.
With such modest budget for my project ($3000 total and I spent $2500 on the bike) I plan on scrounging as many parts as possible from eBay and swap meets. Since my "donorcycle" is actually in pretty nice shape I also plan on selling the parts I rip off it to supplement the budget.
A few weeks ago I went to a meet up near Baltimore and scored some great parts at fantastic prices. Since I'm not 100% certain on the direction of the project, I was a little scatter-shot at the meet and bought whatever seemed cool to me at the time. A great example is the fact that within fifteen minutes I bought z-bars ($2) and 16" ape hangers ($10), which are obviously about as stylistically opposing as you can get.
Moving on.
Besides the two sets of bars, I also picked up a Harley tool box ($4), a pair of chrome pegs ($2), an S&S air cover ($5), and a set of low profile blinkers for my Springer ($10). I'm not sure I would want the tool box on the bike because it is a little clunky looking, but I just couldn't pass up such a good deal.
To round out the project I decided to splurge and buy a Santee bolt-on hardtail off eBay for $195, shipping included. While I think the weld-on hardtails look better, and I actually considered going the weld-on route, I then had a mental image of my welds giving way at 80mph on the highway, and the horrible carnage that would ensue, then opted for the bolt-on. I know how to use two wrenches and have a big tube loc-tite, so I think I can manage the bolt-on just fine and will probably live a more fruitful life because of it.
Some other things on my wish list are: solo "bates" style seat with springs, taillight, one round ear view mirror, and possibly an oil tank that has a battery holder incorporated into it. My bike is right side shift, which will inevitably confuse the shit out of me since I'm in the habit of braking with that foot, so I will likely remove that lever and replace it with a jockey shifter, so might as well throw that on the list too.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
The Concept
I'll keep this short.
I don't have drawings or anything even resembling a detailed plan of what I would like the finished bike to look like if/when I am done. However, the concept is that I would like a hardtail bobber, primarily flat black, with some interesting brass or copper components on it (similar to Ron Gibson's Triumph, which I really liked and the reason I got in touch with him). I want the bike to be as low as possible with ape hangers and a solo seat.
That's about as far as the design of the bike has gone.
I don't have drawings or anything even resembling a detailed plan of what I would like the finished bike to look like if/when I am done. However, the concept is that I would like a hardtail bobber, primarily flat black, with some interesting brass or copper components on it (similar to Ron Gibson's Triumph, which I really liked and the reason I got in touch with him). I want the bike to be as low as possible with ape hangers and a solo seat.
That's about as far as the design of the bike has gone.
The Builder
Let me just start by saying that I'm taking some serious artistic license using the word "builder" when referring to myself. Actually, it a gross misuse and almost an outright lie given my experience.
Moving on.
OK, so I am 36, unmarried (basically a given considering I now have three bikes but am not a millionaire), and live in downtown Washington, DC, though I am originally from Connecticut. I have a small house in the city with a backyard and an 8'x12' shed that will serve as the "garage" for this little disaster. The shed has power, but no heat. It's 34 degrees outside today, and probably 33 degrees inside the shed. Good place to work on a bike.
All self-deprecating aside, I am handy and have a decent tool collection. I've owned a few bikes (noted below as best as I can in chronological order), and have done some projects.
-197? Yamaha 125 Enduro
-1976 Yamaha 650 Special
-198? Yamaha Virago
-1976 Kawasaki KZ400
-199? Yamaha 600 Seca II (takes a real man to admit that)
-1996 Ducati Monster 900
-2001 Triumph 955i
-2004 Yamaha FZR 1000
-2002 Honda RC51 1000
-2004 Harley Super Glide
-2004 Harley Springer
-2006 Ducati 749S
-1972 Harley Ironhead 1000
What I can do:
I've painted two or three bikes myself, including frames and one engine. I change the oil on all my bikes. I've replaced clutches, chains, handle bars, seats, sprockets, pegs, pipes, and I've rebuilt the carb on lawnmowers and scooters. I've taken wheels off and put them back on. I've done some wiring.
Yup, that about wraps up that list. From there, you take take all the things you need to do to build a bike, subtract the above from it, and see where my deficiencies lay.
My partners on this build will be my always unhelpful Pitbull, Allie, a Clymer manual for 1959-85 Harley Sportsers, and lots of how-to videos on youtube.com. [Insert mockery here]
Moving on.
OK, so I am 36, unmarried (basically a given considering I now have three bikes but am not a millionaire), and live in downtown Washington, DC, though I am originally from Connecticut. I have a small house in the city with a backyard and an 8'x12' shed that will serve as the "garage" for this little disaster. The shed has power, but no heat. It's 34 degrees outside today, and probably 33 degrees inside the shed. Good place to work on a bike.
All self-deprecating aside, I am handy and have a decent tool collection. I've owned a few bikes (noted below as best as I can in chronological order), and have done some projects.
-197? Yamaha 125 Enduro
-1976 Yamaha 650 Special
-198? Yamaha Virago
-1976 Kawasaki KZ400
-199? Yamaha 600 Seca II (takes a real man to admit that)
-1996 Ducati Monster 900
-2001 Triumph 955i
-2004 Yamaha FZR 1000
-2002 Honda RC51 1000
-2004 Harley Super Glide
-2004 Harley Springer
-2006 Ducati 749S
-1972 Harley Ironhead 1000
What I can do:
I've painted two or three bikes myself, including frames and one engine. I change the oil on all my bikes. I've replaced clutches, chains, handle bars, seats, sprockets, pegs, pipes, and I've rebuilt the carb on lawnmowers and scooters. I've taken wheels off and put them back on. I've done some wiring.
Yup, that about wraps up that list. From there, you take take all the things you need to do to build a bike, subtract the above from it, and see where my deficiencies lay.
My partners on this build will be my always unhelpful Pitbull, Allie, a Clymer manual for 1959-85 Harley Sportsers, and lots of how-to videos on youtube.com. [Insert mockery here]
The Bike
On a whim, I decided I should have a winter project. Building a Triumph hardtail seemed like a good idea, so I started looking on Craigslist for an old Triumph that was already in a rigid frame, or one that I could make a hardtail (more later on how ill-equipped I am to do this). With an '04 Springer, an '06 Ducati 749, and a 125cc scooter already in my garage (read: shed), I thought that allocating anything more than $3,000 to this potential-abortion was fiscally irresponsible. So I set my total project budget at three grand, with no more than $2500 going towards the donor-bike. There was no science or anything resembling research involved in that plan, the numbers just looked "reasonable".
After an hour on Craigslist I hooked up with a bike builder in PA named Ron Gibson, who specializes in Brit bikes. In the nicest way possible Ron told me that my budget was laughable, but invited me to a swap meet in York, PA that he said should have some potential project bikes for me to look at. That weekend I headed up to York from Washington, DC with my girlfriend, my trusty trailer and three grand in my pocket. After five hours of sorting and sifting through "bikes" with varying degrees of terminal rust cancer, I threw in the towel and we headed home. I just couldn't find anything that was in my price range, or interesting enough to dedicate my time and money to, even with all that cash burning a hole in my pocket.
That night, dejected and drunk, I searched on the interweb and came across a 1972 Harley Ironhead Sportster on eBay. The bike was located in Manasses, VA and looked to be in good shape. It ran, had matching numbers, a clean title, and was only about an hour away from my house, so I emailed the seller and asked if he would end the auction early and sell me the bike outright. The bidding was at $500, so I offered him $2K. He emailed me his phone number, and after a call and a few text messages we agreed on $2500.
I drove out the next night to pick up the bike at this dude's house. When I got there it was 20 degrees outside but the bike fired right up. He had five bikes at his place, four Ironheads and ironically, a Triumph hardtail project he was working on. We did some paperwork then pushed the bike out of the shed. When I got on it and pulled in the clutch he said "It lurches when you drop it in gear, the clutch needs adjusting". I nodded and looked down at the shifter (which was actually the rear brake, because the brake and shifter are reversed on this year bike, unbeknownst to me). He saw me look down and said "It will probably stall out when you put it in gear". I again nodded. He said "The clutch needs adjusting", yelling slightly. I looked up and said "I shouldn't ride it?". He shook his head from side to side like people do when they want to imply you're dense. I turned off the bike and we pushed it out to my trailer and loaded it up.
So, just like that, I started my Brit bike winter bobber build with a '72 Harley that may or may not have a transmission, but runs very strong (I realize that makes no sense, this is my fucking blog, just accept it and move on).
After an hour on Craigslist I hooked up with a bike builder in PA named Ron Gibson, who specializes in Brit bikes. In the nicest way possible Ron told me that my budget was laughable, but invited me to a swap meet in York, PA that he said should have some potential project bikes for me to look at. That weekend I headed up to York from Washington, DC with my girlfriend, my trusty trailer and three grand in my pocket. After five hours of sorting and sifting through "bikes" with varying degrees of terminal rust cancer, I threw in the towel and we headed home. I just couldn't find anything that was in my price range, or interesting enough to dedicate my time and money to, even with all that cash burning a hole in my pocket.
That night, dejected and drunk, I searched on the interweb and came across a 1972 Harley Ironhead Sportster on eBay. The bike was located in Manasses, VA and looked to be in good shape. It ran, had matching numbers, a clean title, and was only about an hour away from my house, so I emailed the seller and asked if he would end the auction early and sell me the bike outright. The bidding was at $500, so I offered him $2K. He emailed me his phone number, and after a call and a few text messages we agreed on $2500.
I drove out the next night to pick up the bike at this dude's house. When I got there it was 20 degrees outside but the bike fired right up. He had five bikes at his place, four Ironheads and ironically, a Triumph hardtail project he was working on. We did some paperwork then pushed the bike out of the shed. When I got on it and pulled in the clutch he said "It lurches when you drop it in gear, the clutch needs adjusting". I nodded and looked down at the shifter (which was actually the rear brake, because the brake and shifter are reversed on this year bike, unbeknownst to me). He saw me look down and said "It will probably stall out when you put it in gear". I again nodded. He said "The clutch needs adjusting", yelling slightly. I looked up and said "I shouldn't ride it?". He shook his head from side to side like people do when they want to imply you're dense. I turned off the bike and we pushed it out to my trailer and loaded it up.
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