Lemmie tell ya, this last week has seriously worn me out. It shouldn’t have though. I’ve gotten into some battles with inanimate objects and such, and that can wear a person out, but I can’t explain why I’m so chronically low on energy.
Most of my attention has been focused on the heaps of maintenance my Indian Chieftain has needed. The bike is very easy to do regular services on, but it had several major items requiring maintenance all at once. Not the bike’s fault, and not really my fault. Sometimes things just happen because, well… there isn’t a reason other than ‘life happens.’
I’ve already written about battling the ass-end of the bike so I could change the drive belt. That was due to damage and not wear, but it still was a very tough job, as it isn’t something that needs to be done very often. Now that I’ve gotten that done and put back together, I had to attack the front half of the bike.
Mind you, the whole bike is just balancing on a large, flat jack — a jack with a hydraulic leak, so to keep it in the air it has a bunch of 2×4’s mashed in there. You have to pay attention when you start taking heavy parts like wheels off of an 850lbs motorcycle that is just balancing on a narrow platform. And so, after adding some weight to the rear of the bike to balance it, I got the wheel and front fender and front fairing off: all without tipping the bike over on its ass and onto the ground.
I don’t want to rehash the specifics because they are tedious and unimportant, but let me say the service manual lied. It says to take the front-outer fairing off, but not the inner fairing. That’s where all the wiring, antenna, gauges, windscreen, touchscreen…EVERYTHING goes. I wouldn’t even try this job if I knew that. The solution was going to be a workaround of some kind, and I chose violence.
The Allen Key being test-fit into the hole I drilled. This was the left side, and went much better than my first attempt on the right side.
I whipped out a drill and punched holes into the fairing support, allowing me to slide an Allen wrench in and reach the pinch bolts holding the top of the fork legs on. I still have to do the fork service of course, but there’s nothing special about these forks and — although it is a tedious job — it is not a difficult one to inspect the internals, clean them, and replace the oil seals.
Once that’s done the bike will be ready to reassemble, because I finally got the tires changed. No one could do the job except for shops 45min away that wanted stupid money for the job, or the local shop, Bisbee Bug, which was backlogged. They finally just said to bring everything in and they’d try to do the job in between other jobs.
Strapping two heavy wheels and two new tires to the back of the DR650, I wobbled my way up and dropped them off, then ran to the next town over to grab yet another tool I needed, but is in my storage up in Nevada. By the time I was back and had grabbed lunch, Bisbee Bug called to tell me the tires were done. Nice!
$60 later both tires were mounted and I found it a lot easier to strap to the DR650 without the two new tires on top. Now I’ve got everything I need except for brake pads. Yeah, I noticed all three sets were either near the wear bars of past them. The new pads will be here in time though, as I still have to do the forks, remount them to the bike, then put both wheels back on and adjust the new drive belt.
New tires mounted, I strapped them to the DR650 and brought them back to the ranch for reinstallation.
That’s plenty to stay busy while USPS gets the new brake pads here. So, by the end of the week (today is Tuesday the 17th) the Chieftain will be back on the “ready” list…which means I can start looking at the list of repairs the DR650 needs. Yep, that’s life; it keeps happening whether you want it to or not.
A New Development
Of slightly more interest though is a loose partnership with a luggage company called Viking Bags. They’re an American company that does both universal luggage for motorcycles as well as hard parts like locking saddlebags, seats, luggage racks, handlebars, and even fairings.
I’ll be testing out one of their large backpacks. It doubles as a sissybar bag so I can strap it to the back of the Indian easily, but can also strap it to the rear rack on the DR650. That will let me take it out into the field on dual sport rides while I explore the old mining roads and ruins of old stagecoach houses and ranches, but also take in on some highway rides out to Tuscon and Phoenix for some other upcoming stuff.
That should give me not only new travel stories but also some product reviews to write up. I need to be working on my book, mind you, but as odd as it may sound, writing about other things sometimes helps me get more excited about working on the book. Usually it’s the opposite. Working as a mechanic made we never want to work on my own bikes, especially since back then I had a race bike and a street bike, as well as another bike I was trying to restore.
That’s part of what drove me out of that job. I wasn’t just selling my time and talents for a wage: I was selling my very passion… my zest for life. How much is that worth an hour? A lot more than an employer is willing to pay, that’s how much.
But that’s old news. Though, I do need to get more paying work this winter, so I can refill the coffers for wherever I decide to venture this coming spring. That’s not on the radar yet; well, the “where” part isn’t, but the “how” is always there in the aether of my mind. Right now the leading ideas are Alaska, Newfoundland, or back to Colorado. It’s not worth weighing those options until next year though.
Progress Is The Goal
Things in the here-and-now are good though. While the work on the bike has been tough, it’s been going along without major hiccups. Just because a project is tough doesn’t mean it’s a nightmare. The real nightmares always come up when a bolt cross-threads or the head twists off and leaves the threads still in the hole.
Fiddling with little parts is annoying, but I’ve worked on heavy trucks too; fiddling with parts that weight 100lbs isn’t really better. I did lose a day to one hiccup though. Yesterday I couldn’t find the bolt which acts as the drain plug for the fork leg. It has a little brass crush washer, which I found floating in the oil I had drained out.
The bolt was an ultra-fine thread — not the type of thing you’ll find at a hardware store. After searching a third time, it was sitting under my tool roll. That’s what you get for not cleaning as you go. I’ve left all the tools I’ve used out, and the best practice is to re-home tools in between tasks, wiping of oil or grime, sweeping up trash, and looking for “extra” bolts or spacers.
The important thing is, I found the damned bolt. That basically means a roughly three-hour job took me three days and about for hours, plus an hour going to the hardware store to confirm they don’t have a replacement. Worth complaining about? Sure I guess, but not worth stopping and complaining. I have one fork together, ready for oil to be added. I may even have the bike on its wheels by the time this post goes out in the Sunday email.
In The Short Term
As I’ve said in previous posts, the goal is to get the Chieftain running so I can pull the DR650 into the garage and handle its honey-do list. Then it will be ready for half-day trips around here where I can share some local history, views, routes, and that general spirit of exploration.
The Chieftain will be the get-around machine. Having more wind protection and fancy computers to deal with cold-engine start up, it’s a better winter choice. I also need it to get to Tuscon next month, where I’ll attend tryouts for TEAM: Arizona’s motorcycle safety course (most states know it as MSF: Motorcycle Safety Foundation).
That is interesting mainly because it will let me give back to the motorcycling world and also meet new riders. It’s been so long and the world is so different, i can’t easily put myself in the shoes of someone who wants to learn to ride now. I saw the utility of them, but a 20yr old bike now and one from 1999 (when I first started riding) is way different, as a wages, traffic, maintenance and repair procedures, etc.
Being a riding coach won’t make a dent in my need to refill the bank account for next year’s ride. That’s still out there somewhere, waiting for me to find it. Writing is pretty tough when you have to do it as a steady income, but it’s my main freelance skill. Something will come up. Either that, or I’ll just have to rob people in a dark alley somewhere.
It’s tough work, but has huge tax benefits.
In any event, next week might look just like this one, except the DR650 will be the one in the garage. Eventually I’ll get ahead on the bike work, find some paying work, and have some worthy pictures and stories to tell.
Until then, rage on and have a Merry Christmas.
Johnny Killmore 