Coop's Corner: An Easter Weekend Mix

Sunday, April 16, 2017

An Easter Weekend Mix

Thursday evening I was excited about possibly getting our family (my brother's new in '70) SL100 Honda back on the road, maybe even as my Pit Bike for the Road America event rapidly approaching. The old, now rare original muffler was shot a few years ago and the last time I had this to use around the infield at the AHRMA event, it was pretty loud. I've dabbled with replacement muffler/pipe combinations but for numerous reasons, haven't stumbled on the perfect or even a workable solution yet.

Something complicating the exhaust issue is the kickstart shaft that's about ready to call it quits. I'm not sure where all the repairs happened, if it was back when my brother still had it or when dad had it, but this little normally easy-starting Honda start mechanism has seen a lot of toil. I knew that the splines were poor. The sewing pins were a temporary fix; the weld another. I drilled a hole for a dowel pin but even with all of that, the real issue now is that the end of the shaft is actually bent. This off axis rotation of the kick start lever got to be a problem with exhaust pipe and muffler clearance.

A fix was in order. The gaskets arrived, the auction kick start shaft is on the way so in my excited state Thursday evening, I started pulling the bike apart, only to discover that unlike my two previous kicker fixes on other bikes, this one was going to involve a lot more work.

An entire case splitting will need to occur and there's just no way that one of those will happen during riding season, not around this hacienda. December and more likely January will have to be soon enough.

So, she was buttoned up to wait for better (repair) weather.

There is now an opening in the schedule for time on the lift.

Friday morning I was busy in the shop, woodworking and finishing up the wiring on the Enfield sidecar rig.

Then it was time for a ride, Old Blue was looking at me with wanton turn signals....so that's what we did. No destination in mind, other than some coffee and pie led us up river to Prescott's Freedom Park.

Overlooking the confluence of the St. Croix and Mississippi Rivers........

The long way home past the Treasure Island Casino and some more garage time in the evening. Peg's half day working at home had her busy getting her latest knitting project stretched out while drying.

Saturday morning early, some audiobook time and then back out to the shop to do some more wood gluing on our daughter's Tack Cabinet.

Thunderstorms over night and a lot of rain we didn't need (first mowing approaching rapidly!!) saw me cozily in the garage until late morning when surprise, it was time for another ride, this time the little V-Twin was anxious to get some air.

Near Welch, in the Cannon Valley Trail parking lot.

I saw a repair/air stand just like this up in Grand Marais at last year's MN Guzzi Rally. The Hyosung was in no need of repair thank you.

This one for Brandy.....you might try this. Brad, what do you think???

No, it's not a key but special in its own right!?!

An Easter morning shorty breakfast ride with a stop in Red Wing's Memorial Park.

The green's will persevere.....

Happy Easter!!

8 comments:

RichardMApril 16, 2017 at 12:50 PM
Did you get all of the bikes on the road yet?

Happy Easter!
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SonjaMApril 16, 2017 at 1:34 PM
Happy Easter, Doug. the Fiat bunny is a nice catch ;-)
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TrobairitzApril 16, 2017 at 4:54 PM
Nice bunny ears! I think the cotton tail would stay on but with our rains the ears would be droopy. I love it.

Happy Easter to you and Peg.
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David MasseApril 18, 2017 at 1:00 AM
Happy belated Easter Doug!
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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)