Coop's Corner: For The Record

Sunday, October 13, 2019

For The Record

It's running again. I put 25 miles on it this afternoon and as far as I can tell, it's running as well as ever. It was a challenging week though for ol' Coop while we got to this point.

I mentioned in the last blog that I'd drained oil mid-week....that was incorrect; I've been an oil changing fool. I drained everything I could last Sunday night as soon as it was off from the trailer. Unlike most of the time when I drop oil on any of the machines and I wait a few hours, every oil change and there was more than one this week, lasted 24 hours.

The sequence was....

Sunday oil and filter drained...looked as though there were 4 quarts (2 too many) in the pan, plug pulled, turned the motor over a few cranks as water shot out. Put transmission in 5th gear and rolled the rear wheel to move off of TDC. Squirted some fresh oil in the cylinder and rolled the wheel another turn. Pulled the air filter, must have weighed 2 pounds.
Monday, crankcase filled with 5 quarts (3 too many) of no-name 10-40 dino oil
Tuesday, oil dropped, all 5 quarts, obviously still traces of water.
Wednesday, buttoned it up with a new filter and proper level of 20-50 synthetic. I had just put a new Iridium plug in before last weekend, put the old spark plug in. Started the bike for the first time since home. It took a bit but settled into an idle, sounding like it was missing the restriction of the air filter. A stream of water flowing out between the pipe and muffler. My nice clean garage door got shot with oily, misty water vapor. I looked at the oil level sight glass and saw a rich mocha color. Guessing water still in the breather, ?? Drained the expensive waterous synthetic and pulled out a very chocolate-colored oil filter.
Saturday, stopped at GoMoto after coffee at Diamonds and purchased a dry air filter and a couple more oil filters. I asked Marty early week if he had any Himalayan air filters. "We've got the normal ones, no waterproof ones." Filled in a couple quarts of the oil I buy in bulk and use in every other one of the bikes, 10-40 Valvoline Motorcycle Oil. With that, an old oil filter that I'd for some reason kept (don't ask me, I have no idea why...) Installed the new air filter
Sunday, this morning. Waited for 40 degrees outside between sleet, rain and sun showers.
Sunday afternoon, put 25 miles on the bike
This week a new oil filter and new synthetic, new plug back in and hopefully some more carefree miles before snow.

Thanks to everyone for the encouraging words, offers of help, offers of deep water riding lessons, criticisms and everything else. It's been a busy week of correspondence. :)

The Craig's ad for the pontoon boat seemed like a reasonable price for what it was but I have little to no interest in becoming a skipper, thanks for the heads-up though. And then there was the link for the PFD......it's possible that in this context that might not look like a blowup doll .....were you on the right page.... maybe someone else was the intended for that link?? Regardless, I am into re-purposing.

4 comments:

motormikeOctober 13, 2019 at 8:38 PM
Two words.. snork kell ( I made that up )
ReplyDelete
Replies
redlegsridesOctober 14, 2019 at 4:09 PM
Hopefully, it works out as you wish!
ReplyDelete
Replies

Add comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

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)