Coop's Corner: Morphous On The Lift

Sunday, February 7, 2016

Morphous On The Lift

Finally getting to the black Yamaha, the long and low scooter is warm and in the shop. Yesterday I took the old 400 Automatic outside and gave it 15 minutes of exercise to the best of my ability with snow and ice everywhere....which wasn't very much. Knowing that far too much of our parking area in front of the garage is just about a skating ring, I gingerly waddled the Honda over to the deeper snow, foolishly thinking that with that much side to side 'resistance', I'd at least be able to idle through the 5" of fresh snow that we received the other weekend (no knee high boots required in our neighborhood).

It didn't work.

Still fumbling with the idle speed and idle mix screws, engaging Speed 1 left the rear wheel spinning and it spun so freely in the snowy yard that I wondered if I'd missed something and failed to engage the transmission. One, almost fall down look at the rear tire told me that the wheel was going around but we weren't going anywhere. A bit of paddling, just enough traction to put the bike down and on its side. Oh well, it's running well enough for a road test when road tests are again reasonable. For now, back into the garage in one of the snug corners.

I purchased tires for the Yamaha Morphous almost a year ago, looked in my PDF manual at the instructions for removal of the rear wheel and decided, "not now but soon." Anxious to use it more last summer, especially since both it and the Helix were ready for tires, the Honda's tire much more in need of a change, it wasn't a big season of scooter riding though I did take the Morphous on a few short rides, willing to use up that last of those wear bars. So, in a word, I was intimidated by the look and scope of the project.

Taking this black bull by the horns, I finally went at the project this morning, printing out the 8 or 10 pages of the manual relevant to the tire change. Last night I spent time looking through the convoluted instructions...."See Engine Removal - Section 1-4"....."See Swingarm Removal - Section 3-17" ....."Remove Muffler"....."Remove Tool Tray" and on and on. I thought rear wheel removal on the Helix was bad.

I decided to trade some scuffed up fingers for leaving one of the body panels in place and I'd do it again, gladly.

Here, the wheel off but only after various body panels, the muffler, swingarm and too many other odd bits had to come off first. Brake caliper hung from Zip ties. I should be thankful that I didn't have to drain the coolant and interrupt the brake line I suppose.

Speaking of muffler, it almost broke my arm when that last bolt came loose.

Take a look at the bolts, fitments and hookups on the swingarm....hopefully I'll be able to get everything back together without any extra parts left over.

It might be best to not wear this tire out, instead push the scoot aside, polish it up and take THIS one to next year's Bike Show for parking. Only another 11 years until it's ready for the Vintage classification.

12 comments:

redlegsridesFebruary 7, 2016 at 7:39 PM
I hate it when fasteners refuse to come off....impatience usually leads to damage....only have had to break out the broken bolt removers once though....
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motormikeFebruary 8, 2016 at 5:53 AM
..the Stella I had... rear tire swap.. five minutes, five nuts.. done.. it even carried it's own spare. Not look'n forward to replacement on the Helix...
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SonjaMFebruary 8, 2016 at 9:05 AM
Tis is the season... to tinker in the garage. Good luck fixing your steed, Coop.
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TrobairitzFebruary 9, 2016 at 2:29 PM
Changing those tires does not sound like a fun job. But at least you got to play in the snow a bit on the 400.
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Dar February 9, 2016 at 9:46 PM
Coop you are braver than I. I leave all the moto fixing to my hub. At this Point I'm not a wrencher.
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"it was auspicious to approach any situation from a deferential, inquisitive place. Conceding that there is much to learn is the best blueprint for discovering something new." ----B. Fuller

The Man straightened stiffly above the block of salt fixed to the stake and looked at the young cattle ringed about him. The pasture was holding out well and the stock was looking good. This bunch would be ready to sell in another month, maybe sooner if the market was right.

A stir among the cattle down near the river brought him round to face the swinging bridge he'd built years before. Someone was coming toward him from the bridge. Someone in breeches, but it didn't look like a man, somehow. What was a woman doing in his pasture this time of night?

He bent over the salt again; maybe if he paid her no heed she'd go on past and let him mind his own business. He heard her footsteps come nearer and stop. "Good evening," she said.

Her voice was smooth with book learning but friendlier than most, and somehow almost shy. When he made no answer she went on, "I've been sitting on your swinging bridge....I thought I'd like to say thank-you...." Her voice stumbled a little, then she tried once more.

"You are Mr. ____". His name sounded strange in her voice, but she went on to tell her own.

"That's what they've called me the last sixty-eight years," he said, looking past her face to the hills fast darkening under a single star. "I reckon the woods are free for those that like to walk there."

The unfamiliar voice laughed a little. "That's what Emerson said: the grove belongs to the man who walks in it with an open heart....On that basis I guess I've owned part of your woods for a good many years.....". She made a final effort. "I've always wanted to thank you....."

Something deeply hidden stirred in him. "There's a stump up there, in the notch of the woods", he said slowly, "that before the timber grew so tall you could stand on it and see all over this country."

He kept still a minute, remembering, then, "I used to stand up there an' look at things, an' wonder how they come to be like they was, an' how the hills was created, an' all the things in Nature.... I told my wife I guessed all the religion I ever had I got standin' on that old stump, a-wonderin'..." He turned his face away from her.

She helped him out. "I know about that, a little. This afternoon I saw......." Her account of a thing she had really taken time to look at eased him, and he answered with telling of the badger den at the foot of the swinging bridge.

When she had gone, he turned to watch her. After a moment she stood clear and unmoving against the sky. You could hear the sounds of the river where she stood. She was one that could stand still long enough, he thought, really to hear what a body was saying, or a river.

Then she walked down the farther side of the slope and was gone. ------Margaret Snyder from A Chosen Valley

Fall was the end of harvest, end of the growing season, a burst of color and sun-warmth before killing frost turned the land gray and cold. Fall was a moody time, full of both life and death, a time when we were reminded of the power outside of us, reminded that the seasons happen to us. We do not invite the change to come.-------Ben Logan, from The Land Remembers

When you get those rare moments of clarity, those flashes when the universe makes sense, you try desperately to hold onto them. They are the lifeboats for the darker times, when the vastness of it all, the incomprehensible nature of life is completely elusive. So the question becomes or should have been all along, what would you do if you knew you only had one day, or one week, or one month to live. What lifeboat would you grab onto? What secret would you tell? What band would you see? What person would you declare your love to? What wish would you fulfill? What exotic locale would you fly to for coffee? What book would you write? ------- Ben Tyler

We were also cautioned about journeying far from home. As an example of the dangers, the town had a badly crippled lady named Lucy, who as a girl had traveled to New York City. As she traveled along a sidewalk, sightseeing, she was struck by the outstretched hand of a suicide who had leapt from high above. Her spine had been shattered and for the rest of her life, she was to walk bent forward at the waist, tapping the sidewalk with two black canes. Whenever the subject of travel to a big city was raised, someone would say, "Just remember what happened to Miss Tripp." ---- Ted Kooser, from Local Wonders

"Steamboats are like wedding cakes without the complications...." ----Mark Twain

"It's not about having lots of money, it's about having lots of options......." -----Chris Rock

As the very proud father of three former ponytail wearers, hopefully I can get away with this....."For the past few years it's been fashionable for young women to wear ball caps and to snap the strap on the back under their ponytails. I like the looks of that, their shiny ponytails jauntily swinging, but it's hard not to think of the rear ends of horses. There's a piece of harness called the crupper that goes just under a horse's tail to keep its nose down. If the horse lifts its head to look for a way out of whatever predicament it's in, the crupper tightens and hurts the horse. But it's foolish for parents to think that a ball cap might keep a young woman from running away. Anybody can see they're made for running." ------Ted Kooser, Local Wonders

"I tell the guy's girlfriend that the only difference between the book's main character Phaedrus and myself is that I am neither brilliant, tortured or insane, she looks at my bike and there is an uncomfortable silence." --------ahendepe (a.k.a. Vermin)