March 1, 2008
Reflections on a Garage Full of Motorcycles
I like having multiple motorcycles. Even more disturbing, I enjoy the thought of having even more. I understand that ownership and upkeep on a veritable fleet is difficult for non-collectors to understand, and indeed I struggle with the idea myself. One rationalization for having several bikes is that they serve different needs. I can ride my Trail 90 to work and back comfortably, since the traffic flow speed between there and home seldom exceeds the 90's top speed. (Every once in a while, I am slowed by a headwind.) However, I wouldn't dare ride the 90 to Cuba and beyond, much less Taos. I have reported here that it is nice to have a spare for a guest to use while they are visiting. This means that a pair of the bikes have to be suitable for the same kinds of roads.
Some bikes (in my case, the Benelli 250 SS and the Morini) simply deserve better than they have now. The Benelli I purchased as a potential lightweight commuter, and the Morini has served me for so long that getting rid of it now would seem more like a divorce than a business arrangement. Come to think of it the Morini has been with me longer than my wife, and it was hardly new to me when we were married. The Maicoletta is my retirement project, should I ever be so lucky as to (a) retire and (b) find the source of its mysterious inability to downshift.
So each bike in the fleet has its purpose, right? Of course not. I can ride only one motorcycle at a time, and as anyone who has bikes (plural) will tell you, there is one bike that ever gets the real miles put on it. In the past year, that is the 851. On the other hand, if I kept the 851 and ditched the others, the battery would go flat, the tires square, and it would seldom get beyond second gear. And rationalizations as above are no help in figuring out why I feel the need to compulsively review the eBay listings for F1's (too expensive so far) and early 90's 900 Supersports.
I will tell you this: When I walk through the garage, snaking between the bikes, I am thrilled in a beaming-smile-on-my-face kind of way. And that is worth something, I think.
Posted by Underblog at 5:46 PM | TrackBack
October 12, 2005
A Window Opens, A Door Closes
It seems that whenever one problem is solved on a vintage motorcycle, another creeps up or is suddenly noticeable. Witness the recent tail-light trouble on the Maicoletta: No sooner was the tail-light fixed than did the brake light cease to work. I traced the problem to (first) a dirty brake light switch and (second) to a faulty wire or connection. Suspect again was the twin-slide connector joining the tub-side and frame side of the wiring.
No sooner was that problem fixed than did the battery lose its juice. I do not wonder that it is tired; it spent the better part of the day testing the brake light circuit. With my Lambretta, I eventually arrived at the point where I had turned every single nut and bolt on it at one point or another. Only then was it a reliable ride, and boy was that nice.
Posted by Underblog at 6:05 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
October 10, 2005
An Easy Fix
Some fixes are easy. Some are not. For instance, the Letta 250 has had a shifting problem that I have been unable to solve through adjustment and rebuilding. It has plagued me for years. However, the wiring problem was not one of these. A quick post to and response from the Maicoletta Yahoo! Group, and I got a suggestion: tighten down the body tub, since this is how the brake light and taillight are grounded. Fortunately, on the Letta this is but one bolt. Once tightened, all was well.
In other news, I lowered the needle to let in more air at throttle. This leans the fuel-air mixture to compensate for the relative lack of oxygen at high altitude. Smaller main jets are on their way to me from Bing America. The scooter feels faster too, though this may be psycho-somatic, as when a driver perceives better running after an oil change.
Posted by Underblog at 7:54 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
October 9, 2005
The Irony of It All
After awaking at 3:45 in the morning, trying and failing to get the taillight functioning properly, spending the day recovering from the trauma, I received the following email.
Due to the weather forecast for tomorrow, we will not be doing the ride tomorrow. The forecast is rain all morning until 10am, I don't think any balloons are going up in that!
So not only was the waking wholly unnecessary, so was the time spent repairing the scooter.
I returned to the Letta in the afternoon. I could not get the set screw out of the post, so I soldered a new run of wire directly to it. At the other end, I attached the new wire to the post on the ignition switch to which the old wire (or at least a wire of the same color-indication as the old wire) was formerly attached.
Now the light shines perfectly when the engine is not running, but flickers as the engine is revved. Electrics was never my strong suit, though I have learned over the years how to use a soldering iron and a multimeter, and I confess to an irrational affection for solderless bullet and slide connectors. I may try tying the bypass wire into the instrument lights. The only change would be that the taillight would not turn on with the parking lights. Who the heck uses parking lights on a motorcycle anyway?
Posted by Underblog at 9:48 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
October 8, 2005
Underblog Rides Again . . . Not!
I had every intention of going on the sunrise Balloon Fiesta Ride, which commenced at 5:00am this morning. I awoke on time (actually at 2:30 then tossed and turned for an hour and fifteen minutes). I made coffee, drank a cup, poured the rest—mixed with two cups of instant hot chocolate—in our large Aladdin Thermos, packed water and a camera.
The Letta starts fine, and I ride to the gate. As I dismount the idling Letta to try to get the gate to close, I notice that the taillight is not working. I try the brake pedal. Nada. Did you notice that it is moonless now? I start up the Letta and drive back up the driveway to the garage. I find the trouble with the brake light first: It appears as though a cable connector box was a tad corroded. As my mechanic-mentor Walter Alter says "It don't take much." Although the switch is out of adjustment (it comes on as one presses the brake pedal but goes off again as it is depressed fully), I reckon it will pass muster if the taillight is on. The taillight trouble eludes me, however. I remove the clock to get access to the switch. A quick perusal of the manual gives me guidance I need to get the ignition switch off so I can access the terminals. I loosen and retighten each of them. Still no taillight.
I check the bulb—duh! It is fine. Then, I notice that the post to which the taillight wire—and importantly not the brake light post—is completely corroded over. I try in vain to get the tiny set-screw that clamps down on the wire out of the post to no avail. I (and the scooter) appear to be stuck. While replacing the clock I short out the switch, causing the 8 amp fuse to blow. The trip is aborted.
Posted by Underblog at 8:02 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
October 7, 2005
Coordination
I used to think that working on motorcycles and working on home demolition were incompatible activities. No more. I worked on demolition today for three hours. How do I know? I started the timer built into our recent model kitchen stove to let me know when the Letta's battery was done charging. Then I did some shuffling around of stuff, notably (a) moving the pie safe off the front porch and into the workshed and (b) moving Mario Larrinaga's old work table out of the driveway and into the garage. Then I ripped a shelf off the garage wall and threw it in DB3.
Still in my coveralls, I took on the shelves in the adobe shed, picking them apart stick by stick and tossing them in DB3. The timing was just about right: I was removing the final shelf supports as Roomie dutifully gave me the five minute signal.
For some reason not entirely known to me, I am going on a scooter ride which meets at five in the morning. Should be interesting if not especially well-attended.
Posted by Underblog at 10:24 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 23, 2005
Underblog Rides Again
So I decided to take the Maicoletta out today. Wasn't sure that it was going to start, given that it had been several weeks since I took it up the block to fill the gas can for the weed-whacker. Anyway, as I was about to go under I-40, the chrome muffler cap came off. I circled back, parked the Letta and retrieved the cap. But how to put it back on? The two nuts that held it on were gone. I popped into the liquor store / gas station at the corner and bought an Ocean-Spray Ruby Red. I looked up Albuquerque Bolt and Fastener in a phone book by the door. It was right up 2nd. While drinking the Ruby Red, I went to the side of the building opposite where I had pulled the scooter up. Luck: It was in rare Albuquerque shade and another bike was there, a CBRR600 in silver, its license plate mounted invisibly behind the rear wheel.
Dude comes out and between calls on his cell phone asks how loud my bike is without the cap. "Pretty loud." I wedge the cap between my toe and the rear brake pedal, start up the bike and head to the fastener shop. I am the only customer. Two young men staff the counter. Sounding authoritative, I order two six millimeter nuts. "You want nylocks?" "No Nylocks—exhaust!" called out a voice from the office. Plain nuts are fine. "That'll be 80 cents." I go outside and find that the nuts are too small. Nuts. I go back in and order sevens and eights. "Eights? Those come in a bunch of thread sizes. You want me to come outside and take a look?" "You bet!" Outside he specs 8mm, 1.25 thread pitch. "You see his bike outside?" "Yeah, saw it through the window. It is sweet. Who makes it?" "Made by Maico in Germany. It's a '57." I notice the wall at the shop has framed pics of racing motorcycles. "Tell you what. I'll bring you a picture to put up there." "All right. Thanks!"
Unfortunately, I lack the deep socket necessary to get the cap bolted on, and so I limp the Letta home. Once there, a quick tweak of the cap and the proper wrench and all was well. For good measure, I tightened the mirror too.
I take a picture of the Letta, print it, and place it in a frame I brought with us from Minnesota. I rode down to AB&F. The place is now packed. One old man turns around and says "I'll come back later." I chat with the old man behind me in line. He talks about the Dodge Challenger he used to have. Now he is restoring a 1968 Ford Bronco. Once I get to the front of the line, I hand the framed photo of the Letta off to them. "Thanks!"
I headed off to the errand where I going in the first place. And everything went very nicely.
Posted by Underblog at 9:30 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
June 18, 2005
Atomic Fireball
On my way to school work the other day, I spied in my rear-view mirror a Vespa behind me. As I pulled up to the stoplight, I moved over to the left of the lane so it could move alongside. The Vespa's operator was a handsome woman in her mid-30's to early 40's wearing a floral jacket. But oh the scooter! It was red with yellow flames on the fender, cowls, and legshield with an "Atomic Fireball" logo (just like the candies) painted on it. An art-scooter. I loved it. As it turned out, it came that way.
We exchanged props on our respective machines—she relating how the new scooter is so much easier to get and keep running than the old. I used to ask what the fun was in that, but I can make room in my heart for something that cool, even if it is a Vespa (or Stella). The fact that there are hundreds of them out there diminishes their interest to me just a little.
Thanks for the props Fireball-Lady; see you around.
Posted by Underblog at 5:55 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
June 11, 2005
Parade
On the way home from schoolwork Thursday, I found myself on the West River Parkway trailing a snazzy BMW 6.0 CSI with collector plates. I used to really like the CS / CSI series, though I think I preferred the 3.0 to the 6.0.
The two of us constituted a mini-parade of German classic-collector motorvehicles.
Posted by Underblog at 6:46 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
June 8, 2005
Shifting Hope
Thucydides said that hope was the worst thing, because when you rely on hope it means that all your other options are exhausted. You can hope for mercy when the battle is lost, but you plan a victory. So I do not want to get too hopeful that my gear shifting problems with the Letta 250 are over. But they may be. It can find neutral and it takes more than one click of the shifter to find it sometimes. Now I need to reassemble a scooter that has been disassembled for far too long.
If the 250 can be made to run once more, one of the two Letta's can go on the block. The 275 runs great, shows well and is an all-around excellent scooter. But the 250 and I have a much longer and deeper history. Plus, she is in need of a paint-job, and I can paint her any color I choose when the time comes. More rationally, selling one of the scooters will make the move to Albuquerque cheaper and liquify some inventory. Liquidity is always good and no less so now in the face of an uncertain future.
All of this makes it hard for me to avoid falling under uncertainty's curse, and hope that all goes well with the rebuild.
Posted by Underblog at 1:46 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
June 6, 2005
Grand Old Day
We usually do not get too excited about Grand Old Day. The day after Roomie and I made an offer on our house, we attended our first. The streets were choked with folks eating corn dogs, popcorn, and corn on a stick. By this time, beer had already been relegated to designated "beer compounds." Nothing like Grand Old Days past, where young men would tote beer kegs in shopping carts offering free beer "vom Faß," no cups allowed. We did see a good band play at the Teenage Battle of the Bands, however. We took this as a good omen for our new neighborhood. Since then, we had been back once for a bratwurst and a stroll.
Grand Old Day takes place close enough to our house that parking becomes tight. One of our neighbors once had the misfortune of having to hose down youth's excess on her driveway: Evidently someone's Grand Old Time included puking in public. Nice.
But this neighbor called yesterday and invited me to see local boy Har Mar Superstar at one of the beer compounds down Grand a bit. She also hinted that if I did want to go and I did bring the scooter, she would appreciate a ride. I had been intrigued by the local near cult status and self-promotion ability of Har Mar, and so I showed up around the corner on the Letta, which was now sporting two new Shinko tires (I had replaced the front earlier in the day). "I really needed to clean myself" she said from the top of the stairs." "Me too, but I didn't bother" I replied. We proceeded down Summit until we saw a large tent from which loud music emanated. This must be the place.
One of the things I like best about scooters is that they are so easy to park. Special events add a premium to this convenience, since even the barricaded streets have a row of motorcycles into which one can insert one's bike. I parked the Letta between two bikes and we strolled over to the tent, purchased our wristbands (making it impossible to look for our peeps on the outside), and saw most of the opening acts act. I imagine they sound better recorded than they do live. Like most parking lots, there was a distinct lack of shade. I could feel my skin burning, which might have been distracting but for the Summit Ale I managed to scrape the five dollars out of singles and coins to pay for. When an occasional cloud blocked the sun for a moment, we breathed a sigh of relief.
As Har Mar took the stage, he pointed to the clouds and told us that the Devil was going to visit. At first, I would feel a rain drop fall but it would evaporate as soon as it landed. But by the second song, evaporation would not keep up with the rain. Then the skies opened up in earnest. The weather did not appear to dampen anyone's enthusiasm, much less ours. Har Mar has made a career of being a charismatic and talented humunculus. But he knows how to the work the crowd. It is a mystery to me why that man objected to his wife / girlfriend making out with him onstage: She seemed game. Dancing in the rain was the latest of the day's series of small firsts.
Once the set ended, I was ready for the rain to stop. I had been thoroughly cooled. Two Harleys now bookended the Letta. One was an old hard tail panhead with a springer front end. Nice. The other was an 883 XR750 replica. Personally, I prefer the Storz conversions, but I applaud the Harley folks playing to the great look of the old XR's. As we were getting ready to pull away, a man crossed the street to say "Nice old bike." As we took off the rain gradually tailed away and the sun returned. A football player type walking with his wife over the Ayd Mill Road overpass gave me the thumbs up. Nice to know it met with his approval.
Posted by Underblog at 5:53 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
June 4, 2005
Batcave Lessons
When I first got my Lambretta back in 1984 (?) changing a tire was a daunting task. And for a while, Lambrettas were the only vehicles upon which I changed tires (the Batcave was nothing if not a specialty shop). Then I did the Heinkel, which did not have the Lambretta's split rims. I have since replaced the first Maicoletta's OEM tires with Cheng-Shin's (imported from the UK), the Trail 90, and now the Letta 275.
It's hard to mess up changing a tire, though I cannot say that I look forward to the job. I had had the Letta on the lift earlier in the day to replace one of the Letta's more quirky pieces: a hose connecting the exhaust pipe muffler with the gas tank. I guess the idea is that the exhaust gas pressurizes the tank just so: the bike will run but poorly if the hose is not connected. I suspect that the faulty hose (it had become pinched between the swing arm and the frame stop) was contributing to the stalling I was getting on the way home on Thursday.
The simple job of changing the tire (swapping out a bald Cheng-Shin for a new Shinko) made use of a varety of tools I seldom use: the air wrench to quickly loosen and tighten the wheel nuts, the 2½ ton lift, the tire levers from the Moto Morini's BMW toolkit. How grateful I am to have them all in one place. Moreover, I am grateful for the lessons Walter Alter taught me about making sure the bead was visible all the way around the rim, and pressurizing the Hell out of the tire to get it to sit straight. How he would have liked to have the lift and / or the compressor in his shop. Of course, he probably would have liked a toilet too. Recently, Walter has been occupying himself with ever larger projects.
Despite my inability to adequately sort out the gearbox in the other Letta, there are some easy jobs of which I am capable of performing. Changing tires and replacing hoses seem to be about my present limit.
Posted by Underblog at 4:14 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
April 24, 2005
Foiled
I have now sat the engine in the frame and removed it often enough that I know exactly which bolts need and do not need to be on there to check whether it will shift through all four gears. It won't. For the time being, it shifts between first, neutral, and second all right, and that is about it. I have moved the shift arm one spline forward from perpindicular like Silver Grey does. I could not get the shift bar to fit properly even with all the adjustment in it taken up.
I think the next order of business is to remove the transmission from the spare motor and see if I can't make a go of that one in the 250. Like most things, mechanical chores get easier with repetition. At least that is the idea. Wish me luck.
Posted by Underblog at 2:54 PM | TrackBack
April 22, 2005
Hard Starting
It seems that about one start in four, on average, Silver-Grey needs a bump-start. I suspect that the delicate three set of points arrangement may be at fault. There is a point on the crankshaft where the range of the "rock and roll" electric starter simply cannot get the sparkplug to fire.
In other news, the case is back on the 250, and the chain on. Now I need to see whether I can get up and down through the gears. I am running out of ideas on what may be causing the shifting problem, and I am open to suggestions.
Posted by Underblog at 7:26 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
April 18, 2005
We're Number One!
What you will see when searching for "Maicoletta" on Google. The fact that this search has found my site only a handful of times is telling.
Posted by Underblog at 7:30 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Wrenching the Bowels of a Maicoletta
All people should hope that the closest I will ever get to performing surgery on a person is performing surgery on a motorcycle. I was only ever truly qualified to be a Lambretta surgeon, having rebuilt or replaced every component on my SX200 over the course of the years that I owned it. I once ripped that bike down to the crankshaft seals three times in one day.
I have been engaged in Maicoletta surgery off and on for a couple of years now. The problem is the gearbox, which will shift up all right but downshift only with difficulty (originally), or not at all (most recently). Colleagues (though I am not quite competent to perform surgery, I will call for a consult at the drop of a spring) suggest that it may be a simple matter of adjustment. I swear that I have adjusted all there is to adjust: namely, the threaded adjustment at the foot gearshift and moving the lever on the spline of the shift-shaft.
The garage tends to get re-organized or moved between surgeries, so small parts are often lost between surgeries. My best case scenario is to have one of the Maicolettas sold by the time we move; at least, I hope to have them both complete and running. I would really hate to have dragged a carcass a fifth time. On this most recent plunge into the bowels of the Letta, a shim washer fell out of the case as I split them. I can find no shim washer on the relevant parts catalog pages. I will leave it out and hope that the bike does not seize up completely at some point down the road.
Regardless of the outcome of this present surgery, I will miss this garage: it has light, power, and windows. And room for a bench, a lift, a car, four bikes, a snowblower, and a Weber Bar B Kettle. If it had heat and water, I think I could live there.
Posted by Underblog at 6:42 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
April 8, 2005
Maicoletta Maintenance: Memo to Self
The next time I work on the Maicoletta, I must remember that if I tighten the screw under the right handlebar, the throttle will become very sticky, causing the engine to rev wildly before eventually settling down. This problem has more than once transformed an hour-long maintenance of the carburettor into a multiple hour carb tuning session. Getting at the carburettor is in itself enough of a chore, since there is just about no room at all between the what my statistics professor calls "gi-normous" air filter (which sensible folk replace with a UNI filter or K&N) and the frame of the motorcycle.
However, this incident is a useful reminder that I should find a shorter screw and see if that fixes the problem of the sticky throttle. Otherwise, the carb cleaning really seemed to get the Letta's juices flowing. Carb-tuning on single-cylinder bikes is a much simpler affair than for twins.
Posted by Underblog at 6:44 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
April 6, 2005
Weather Permitting
Now that spring has arrived, I find myself checking the weather incessantly. Can I take the scooter to school, can I, can I? Going to the grocery store at half past six in the morning is something of a treat when the bike runs as well as it does. I may give it a "2-stroke tune-up" by changing the spark plug and touching up its mysterious triple set of points with a small piece of sandpaper, but otherwise she is pretty fit.
I have a major hankering to do some major wrenching on Old Silver. Even better, I think I have a line on an instrument bracket for the Morini. I am tempted to take the old one and send it off to a friend to have a replicate made in stainless. I reckon the prototype would go on the 500, and additional copies would go on the Morini Parts Page.
Posted by Underblog at 6:41 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
April 5, 2005
Underblog Rides the Letta Again
At the end of the last riding season, everything was falling apart: the Morini's speedo bracket rusted through, and Sil-Grey began leaking fuel. Fortunately, I purchased (after some delay) two hi-flow fuel taps by which many Maicolettisti swear, so I had everything I needed to replace the tap altogether with a better one. Greg at Clausstudios was kind enough to graft on a reproduction tap handle onto one of the new taps, and so the bike is more stock than ever. The bike started right up with a short push down the alley, and the electric foot has functioned since. It looks quite classy with the Minnesota Classic Plate. In my younger days, I would have waited on putting the plate on until after the mechanical work had been sorted. Now I know better: do the clean work while your hands are still clean!
Aside from fixing the fuel leak, the bike runs much better now that it is not starved for fuel. If I could only find the other one for the 250. The fix was quick enough to do that I had time enough to put the bench back in place (it had been moved into a corner last fall while the garage was being insulated).
Next up, my personal Everest: getting Silver roadworthy so I can dispose of one of the Lettas.
Posted by Underblog at 10:30 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
June 26, 2004
Arrival
After just about a year, the Letta 275 has arrived from Scotland. By coincidence, its arrival took place on the same day as Bitty's arrival on Emerson Street in the District of Columbia. "Silver-Grey" (or SG) was crated well, but Elite Shipping had briliantly stacked the two boxes of engines rather than attaching each to the floor of the crate. Consequently, the top engine (for a Maico Mobil, destined for a scooter in Emeryvillle) box toppled, and oozed oil on its way across the Atlantic.
Fortunately, the scooter wore some sort of an old bedsheet on its bodywork which absorbed much of the spillage headed its way. According to the seller, all fluids had been drained from the thing, but I am beginning to have my doubts. I only hope a t-shirt isn't in that box as well!
There is perhaps nothing more fun than uncrating a motorcycle that someone else has crated. (There are no surprises when one uncrates one's own motorcycle.) As the youngish but desperately-trying-to-resist-imminent-pattern-balding delivery person said, "Your job is to sit back with a big smile while I get this thing unloaded." Be that as it may, I felt compelled to steady the crate on its way down the liftgate.
I unpacked the spare engine, which I bought in order to replace the cantankerous gearbox in Sil. The "spare engine" is and was really more of a box of an engine's worth of parts; for some reason, I had expected the engine to arrive assembled and ready to install. I have therefore decided to use what I can of the old engine since I know it runs and its timing is set. But I will definitely use the gearbox and shifting mechanism, in addition to the parts I mutilated earlier, out of the spare.
A second assumption I made was that the battery from Sil would be the same as the battery for SG. Thus, I ran over to Minneapolis to pick up a new battery minutes before the shop closed for the week. As it turns out, the form factor of SG's battery case is slightly different than Sil's, and so I spent 25 bucks on a new battery for Sil. SG arrived with a fresh battery (courtesy of seller), but I reckoned that a new battery was easier to come by than battery acid. As it turns out, Sears is supposed to sell diluted sulphuric acid. So it all works out. I just need to figure out how to get Sil's clutch plates compressed and removed.
As the sun set, impatience drove me to try and start SG with the new battery, even though it did not fit properly. For the first several tries, I could get no more than a "click" out of the starter. After an aborted bump start in the alley, though, the electric start fired her right up. I put SG away content with the small victory of a running 275.
Posted by Underblog at 5:30 AM | Comments (1)
June 22, 2004
Anticipation Part Two
Silver-Grey (as she is called by the seller) has cleared customs and is on her way to my door. She arrived in Chicago in a container full of all kinds of things, including some hazardous materials, I suppose, for her time in customs was delayed because a shipment of paint ingredients destined for Sherwin Williams was discovered to have been leaking on its transatlantic journey. The hazmat leak brings new meaning to the slogan "We Cover the World." Fortunately, the leak was at the opposite end of the container from the crate with the Letta and the two engines.
Delivery of the Letta is expected either today or tomorrow. But since it has been nearly a year already and the painters occupy two pallets worth of space in the garage, I think I can manage to be patient for a little bit longer.
Posted by Underblog at 7:10 AM | Comments (2)