Coop's Corner: Was Not The One I Wanted.....

Tuesday, February 14, 2017

Was Not The One I Wanted.....

The Honda 400 Automatic wasn't the one I wanted.

This weekend I finally got around to getting garage contents shifted around so that I could get a bike into the shop and up on the lift. Both the Ascot and TW200 need some front end work, the new seals arrived weeks ago so one (hopefully soon both) of them were my targets but when 13 bikes are cozying in next to each other in the space of 23', it's nigh impossible to pull any one of them, even small ones out from the middle of the stack.

The 400A was on the end of the line and the reason that it had been put on the end had been absolutely forgotten by me, that is at least until I went to grab it and pull it free from it's Sardine-pack at Position #1. Last year I'd rebuilt the front caliper and all summer the bike worked like a champ, at least the front end did. When I went to move bikes around in the garage last fall to put them in their seasonal resting place, the front end caliper was locked tight. I don't mean dragging. I mean solid-I'm-not-going-to-roll tight. I didn't have time, certainly wasn't in the mood to redo something that should have been done right the first time around. So I literally I had to drag it out and even though I wanted one of the other machines that roll as designed, I decided to bite the bullet and get the old Honda dealt with....it's too much fun to leave stuck and unused until '18.

You can see the piston and the rubber seal just above it in my S.S. mixing bowl. I must have contaminated the system somehow because that rubber seal is so large in diameter that when it nests and is constrained by the caliper assembly, it's squeezing so tight onto the piston that the piston won't release.

Parts are ordered.

As long as I had the bike on the lift, a few other things were taken care of. The parking brake is working again. You might not need one on this bike if you're in the flatlands but that just won't do in our neighborhood. There's no gear transmission reduction to hold the machine in place so unless there's a big curb or rock nearby, parking (and walking away) is a challenge, a trait shared with the Twist-n-Go scooters. That's fixed now.

The bike ran so well last summer once warmed up but I had way too much trouble getting it started when cold. So the carb bank had to come off and there must be about 99% of the room required available to do so. I've done this before so I know where that 1% hides. Sure, it may look spacious but trust me, this will go much easier for anyone the 4th or 5th time and I should know.

Upon careful and thoughtful examination, I found my problem. See this little curl on the end of the spring just above and to the right of my very worn cross head screwdriver? That keeper on the spring needs to be hooked on the tab and it was not. In other words, pulling on the choke cable would activate one side but not the other. Pushing the choke cable would positively open both sides, just not close them together. I never saw or appreciated that fact last year when I had everything apart.

Once the brake parts arrive, this one will be buttoned up and rolled out into the newly opened up free space. Yes, I could clean and polish but that just ain't going to happen. When there's a bit more breathing room between machines, I'll hopefully be able to pick and choose my next target for the lift at will.

4 comments:

motormikeFebruary 14, 2017 at 9:15 PM
... it's a endless cycle... get it.. cycle..motorcycle.. YES! yet once again I slay myself... :)
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Coop a.k.a. CoopdwayFebruary 15, 2017 at 7:00 PM
Mike, you were past due for a slaying.
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David MasseFebruary 15, 2017 at 10:13 PM
And that is why the universe dares not entrust a stable full of motorbikes to my care :)
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Others say....

"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)