I’ll tell you before you start reading, this is almost entirely a rant about how hard it is to work on motorcycles, so skip to the second section if you aren’t interested in that.
Well, I officially don’t find it fun working on motorcycles anymore. I think being a mechanic was a joy from another lifetime. While I’m happy to own a motorcycle that is nearly maintenance free, everything needs maintenance at some point. The Chieftain happened to need a bunch of difficult jobs done at the same time, and I’ve been battling with it for two days now.
The drive belt normally lasts about 100,000 miles, but a rock got caught against mine and put a decent gouge into it. Unlike a chain, a belt is a continuous loop, so to replace it you have to remove the swingarm (the engine’s pulley is in front of the swingarm’s pivot). This is a somewhat difficult job on any bike, so it’s not really the Chieftain’s fault.
Vehicles are filthy when you get inside the places you can’t reach while washing them. Add to that a tire that flings fix-a-flat everywhere and a lot of dirt roads, and it’s never going to look “factory fresh” again.
However, to get the swingarm off requires a lot of other parts to come off, including the exhaust. Now, the exhaust looks great the way they routed it; it’s like a sculpted piece of art. That also means it intricately swoops in between and very close to several parts, and — like most motorcycle exhausts — under the shiny chrome heat shields is a bunch of rusty clamps, bolts, and nuts.
Everything is frozen together from the heating and cooling cycles and all the road grime. After beating it for 20min like it owed me money, I finally popped a few pieces apart, but left the rest of it hanging awkwardly.
Then things got hard.
I’ll spare details but the concept is simple. In order to make a motorcycle look clean and tidy the designers have to hide most of the working parts, and stylize the parts they can’t hide. The result is — once you get underneath a bike like this — there are tightly packed clumps of hoses, wires, wizz-bang computers and ABS controllers, emissions equipment, and a LOT of road grime.
That line down the center is tire slime, accumulated with road grime, then slowly oozing in all directions.
I fought a lot of little clamps in odd locations, necessary to keep brake lines or sensor wires from rubbing against moving parts or the hot exhaust. I never even got the swingarm out — I just shifted it enough to force the old belt out and the new one in. Holy hell, everything was in the way of everything else. On the upside, other touring bikes require 30min of removing plastic panels before you even get to these parts, and EVERYTHING under that plastic is dusty and dirty.
However, a lot of components are easy to reach once you get under the plastic, since they don’t need to be hidden from view. It’s fertile ground for complaints either way, as those plastic panels get brittle with age and little cracks form, breaking off tabs while bolt holes wallow out or break. Steel may rust, but it doesn’t turn brittle or warp after years of sun exposure.
For the reassembly, you have even more to deal with, as you are no longer looking for what is bolted where. Now you are looking at where to route things before bolting them up, trying to imagine what it will rub against once you put the next component in. This is exactly how you end up with “bonus parts” like extra washes or some clamp that probably goes somewhere.
All of this was on top of the fact that my punctured tires had flung tire slime all over the wheel well, hoses and lines, electrical connectors, and mixed with road dust to form a wonderland of goo.
The damage to the drive belt was starting to look a lot like I shouldn’t care about it. The harder I fought to get the swingarm off, the more superficial this damage started looking, It’s on the outside after all, not inside where the belt’s cogs are.
I got the swingarm installed only to find the brake line was on the wrong side, so it had to come halfway apart to move the line about l.5″. After about seven hours of work, I’ve managed to change the belt out, reinstall the swingarm, and begin reclamping the wires and hoses to it. There’s still some smog equipment under there to put back together and bolt in, and of course the rear wheel needs to go back in after I swap out the tire.
That was a nightmare in itself, with the shop in town asking $70 for what is normally a $40 job. Nope. I’ll just wait until the local car shop opens up and have them swap it. I tried to do it on my own, but my usual method of using large C-clamps and a 2×4 was making zero progress. Cruiser tires have much stiffer tires than 400lbs sport bikes, and the tire just doesn’t want to let go of the wheel.
Once all this is done with, I’ll be able to rip the front of the bike apart, because the forks have to come apart in order to change the oil and seals, and to inspect the steering head bearings. That’s a “tomorrow” thing though. I was so filthy after crawling around under that bike for two days that I had to shower, then clean the shower, because there was so much grease everywhere.
But other than that…
Hey though, not all bad. This is necessary work and overdue, which is why so much of it is happening at once. When I’m done I’ll have two brand new tires and front forks with fresh oil, so the ride will feel drastically improved (you just don’t notice the decline because it happens over time, but when it’s all freshened up, boy can you feel it).
I was also able to inspect several hard-to-see things, and this was the first “deep look” at the bike, where I could really see how hard of a life the bike has been living. It’s been working hard, but it’s taking it all in stride. That’s good to know. This also will make working on the Suzuki feel like a walk in the park. It is so much lighter and there’s just less of everything. It’s a design from 1996 when you were expected to do a lot of work to keep motorcycles in top shape, so things are easier to reach by design.
They always look shiny from a distance. Chrome and pearlescent paint is to a motorcycle what make up and a push-up bra are to a woman. What’s underneath matters more, but is much harder to see.
It sure ain’t feelin’ like Christmas though. It feels more like I took a job at a junkyard. No matter how fancy a vehicle is, when it’s used as a working tool, it is going be be filthy as hell behind every plastic cover the owner washes or wipes down. While a Ferrari might be taken to the country club only on sunny days, even flashy cars like Porsche’s and Corvettes will often see a rainy day or be driven to an event with a dirt parking lot.
Underneath all the shine, all the fancy suspension, they are just as dirty as a Toyota Corolla. There’s no magic, and maybe that’s why doing mechanical work isn’t appealing to me anymore? I used to be learning about new systems and technologies as I went, and I was usually seeing the progression of technology as I progressed from $700 beaters to $1500 workhorses on up to $3500 bikes, and so on.
All I see now is work that needs done. Also, most of the technology in the last 10yrs has been electronic, and little black boxes don’t really look that different from each other.
In short, you can make a solid argument for both high tech and simplicity. Simplicity is a special part of motorcycles though, so as they follow the advancements of cars, they do the same thing cars have done: trade a simple interaction for a highly complex but extremely convenient one. Desirable in cars, and even certain motorcycles, but part of what makes motorcycles attractive and even romantic is that you disconnect from the world: it’s you and the bike and the road.
At least, until your Bluetooth-connected dashboard tells you there is an incoming text on your phone, or gives you a weather update…
Conclusion
I don’t need to sum things up. If you read any of that you can tell I’m just tired and pissed off from crawling around on the ground and fighting to align tiny little dirt-covered bolts with little spaces. It’s not the only thing I’ve been up to though; it’s just that the other stuff isn’t at a point where I can write about it. Hopefully next week there will be some news. I can gloss over things though.
I am looking at becoming a rider coach, training new riders in the state-approved program. That would let me give back to motorcycling and also do some teaching, while also meeting new riders and seeing who they are and what has caused them to learn to ride. I also might have some product reviews to do soon, but that will take awhile to come to fruition, if it does at all.
Lastly, I am actually looking at applying for a job. Yuck, right? Riding around and being a moto-hobo is far more appealing, but I do need to refill my savings account as well as build capital for my longer term plans. This job is also inside the motorcycle industry, so it’s less about a paycheck and more about working with other industry people, deepening my connection to the powesports industry, and putting some of my marketing and writing skills to work.
It’s always a longshot on jobs though, even when you’re a perfect fit. You have to make it through the robots and HR people who don’t really understand the position before you finally talk to a manager that may or may not understand the position, but at least works with the people in that department. Hiring is such a convoluted process.
But hey, let me not end on a complaint — this whole post has mostly been complaining. I guess I’ll end with something that always cheers me up: tacos. I grabbed some last Tuesday at the new spot in town, Los Hermanos. Birria tacos that were good, but got pushed into “great” territory with the consomé, which was more like a dipping sauce than a broth. That, plus their tortillas coming from south of the border (they’re a thicker style in parts of Sonora) made me a happy camper.
Yep, tacos and beer are like peanut butter and jelly. And yes, that was the highlight of my week, but I’m also thankful for these new opportunities that may or may not pan out. If they do, I’ll celebrate with some tacos. If they don’t, I’ll console myself with some tacos. Either way, I’ll soon have the Chieftain back together, then I can get the Suzuki back in top shape. Once the Suzuki is happy, I’ll be out riding the hills, taking pictures, learning local history, and sharing something besides my complaints about laying on a dirty floor, wrenching on a filthy motorcycle.
Rage on.
Johnny Killmore 