Big-end wear.

Big-end wear is surprisingly difficult to identify. Mine appeared to be fine, no play to be detected untill I flushed it with petrol and, only when still wet with petrol, a discernable ''click'' was there. According to Phil Irving and others a clearance of 0.002" to 0.003" is acceptable.

Off course the only way to find out is to dismantle the crank assembly; anyone who would like to try himself should try this link.

Pic of the week with a tattoo side note

When I woke up this morning, it was beautiful outside. Instead of just putting my dog out on the leash, I went outside with him. The grass was still wet with dew, and the sun was shining. The sunshine cascading on this dew laden cobweb caught my eye like a shiny coin would on black tar. The spider was in the middle. It was a classic picture of nature and it's beauty. It was one of those simpler things in life that make you realize how beautiful nature can be. I quickly got my camera to captured the moment.

Then I got to thinking.

I love cobwebs. They are really pretty, as long as you aren't walking through one. They also look pretty cool, and signify a sort of toughness. I've even got an old cobweb or spider web tattoo on my right shoulder. It's got a Black Widow in the center.

I remember thinking that I always thought that those cobwebs on the elbows looked pretty cool. When I got that tattoo I seriously pondered getting one one my elbow instead of my shoulder.

But I chose not to because I wanted all my tattoos to be able to be covered up by short sleeves for business purposes if I ever got a job where it really mattered.

Here is a picture of a dude with the classic elbow cobweb.

Pretty cool.

I had always heard that it had a meaning, but never knew what it was.

The power of the internet revealed to me that typically, the cobweb on someone's elbow signifies that they have been, or still are in prison. An extension or thread is added for each year they spend in the joint.

Funny, I never knew that until now.

I guess we all learn things as we go.

I'm glad that I know now. I'm also glad that I didn't choose an elbow cobweb design for a tattoo back then, not knowing what I know now. Boy would I have looked like a dumb ass at 19 with a tattoo signifying I spent five years in the Pen. That would have meant I was 14 Yrs. old when I started my hardened prison life. LOL!

I always feel like somebody's watching me...

Sometimes when I sit at my desk, clickity clackity clacking away at the keyboard typing this drivel that you sometimes come to read, I get the distinct feeling like I'm being watched.

Kinda like somebody or something is lurking over my shoulder, ready to pounce at any given minute.

Must just be paranoia.

I'm back in the saddle again.

Kenny sitting on the ground ready to roll (Like it should be).

By 10:30 last night Kenny was released from his time out on the trailer and was breathing thunder again.

After disassembly, checking everything I could possibly check, it turned out that all that was wrong was the connections were getting loose and corroded. Not like battery acid green corroded, but like black shit between the connectors at the battery post corroded. Really only the positive side, but I sanded both clean, and got good tight contact. This is all it took.

Thanks for well wishes, and advise. I know I can count on many of you who gave me advise if I ever need it in the future. Maybe I'll save myself some more money by doing some other maintenance myself from here on out.

I've always done my own body work and paint, and do just about any home building project, but have never ventured deeply into mechanics. I've learned something here. I can do some things like this myself, I can save some serious ching doing so, and I've got friends out there willing to lend good advise.

Thanks!

Bad motorcycle! Go to your trailer!

On Saturday from 10:30 in the morning until 4:00 in the afternoon, I spent power washing my deck, in preparation to sand and re-stain. It was actually a lot of work. I rewarded myself with a trip to the liquor store, bought a case of beer, and came home. Savored a beer, and decided I should also reward myself with a nice long bike ride. So off I went. I rode for a good while, letting the stresses of the day blow off of me in the wind on a nice long winding back road that I like to ride. I stopped for gas, got on the bike, turned the key, and nothing. No lights, no click, no starter, no nothing. This is a good way to ruin a ride. I've had problems with the starter a bit before when it's hot, but always seems to work on a second try. This was not the starter. Like I said, no nothing, not even a click. I checked my battery terminal connections, etc., and all were tight. I got ahold of my mechanic via cell phone, and explained the situation. He said, he's seen this happen 3-4 times on Sportys in the last 10 years. He said it sounds like my positive cable has a short. He said if I can find the pigtail coming off of it and isolate it, I might be able to bypass and jump it. Me not being a mechanic, which is why I called him in the first place, really did not understand exactly what he was saying. I caught him with almost no battery life left on his cell phone so he could not talk long either. He was out, so cell was his only way to talk. I said I've got no tools with me to do squat. I was lucky to use my key to get the back screw off to get my seat off to access the cables. I believe the next thing I heard was "Hmmm, Your fucked. Get a tow, or a trailer."

So begins Kenny's punishment. He Shall be banished to a trailer for not starting. I called my wife, (God, I hate when I have to do that), who does not drive with a trailer, and kindly asked her to pick me up. She couldn't get the heavy trailer out of the shed and hooked up so I'd have to backtrack. She drove all the way out to where I was and picked me up. I drove home with her, then drove back with the trailer and picked up the bike and headed home again. It was dark by the time I finally arrived back home with Kenny in tow on my trailer. I had a beer, showered, and hit the sack. It was a long shitty day.

Update. Yesterday morning, I was up bright and early. I'm up to my elbows doing surgery on Kenny, when My wife finds me in the garage working, and say's "I thought you were going to help me today." (I did say I would). We had lot's of things to do for preparation for going to her sister's house for Father's day.

Prior to my wife reminding me that I had other commitments, I was able to test the battery. It had 12.53 volts, so the battery was clearly not the problem. My mechanic, Stormy might just be right on this one . The battery is now out of the bike. This was the last I've done on it.

Kenny's still in solitary confinement on his trailer.

Naughty bike.

P.S.

If any of you gear heads have any ideas on why he is misbehaving, I'll gladly take advise. I am for once, going to try to fix this one on my own. I do still have to check the positive cable though. That won't happen till tonight (maybe).

1925 Norton brochure

A beautifully made original 1925 Norton brochure, in Dutch.

The caption to the Model 18 reads that the engine can be tuned to do a 100 MPH without fear of breaking it. Further, special 'go-faster' goodies like narrow mudguards and a smaller petrol tank could be specified.

Interestingly, the excellent Webb forks could be replaced at the factory by the inferior Druid type forks while a gearbox with normal ratios could be fitted to replace the close ratio gearbox that came as standard!

Tattoo Zone

O.K.; This is just plain fuckin funny!

My wife (who is tattoo-less) e-mailed this to me.

Hey if we can't laugh at ourselves, then what fun is life?

I've got Tattoos in the Green "Socially acceptable rebellious zone", in the Dark Green "Warning 67% chance of dragons, wings, or equivalent faggy lameness zone", and on my chest, which is not mentioned here.

I know I've got to have some internet pals out there with tats in "OTHER" places, and it's all good.

So, pony up; Where are yours?

My 1935 ES2 Norton

This is the 1935 ES2 Norton that I had for several years. I bought it from Ron Farthing on January the 26th 1999. I still have the invoice, for 3000 GBP, which was a very decent sum in those days. The British registration was JD5714.

The ES2 can be recognized by the cradle frame, looking so much better on these late 1930s bikes than the open diamond as used by the M18s. It still has the exposed valve springs and the pushrod covers that run in parallel.

The bike served me well for many years. It was used on several camping trips, hauling me and my gear all the way from Utrecht to Groningen to Zeeland, Limburg and back again. I never encountered more severe problems than a lost nut or bolt. It wasn't that fast though, I have the feeling my current late 1920s M18s will give it a run for its money.

I sold the ES2 on the 25th of november 2005. I had just bought an Inter and the shed was too crowded to keep all of them. I did feel sorry for the bike when it was wheeled off to a trailer, destined for an undeserved restoration.

Flat tank M18 engine rumble, part 2

Reassemled the 1928 M18 gearbox with new bearings but the rumble was still there...therefore took the engine completely apart and found the culprit; the timing side main bearing is gone.

New main bearings should not be too difficult to find and I'll have a go at replacing the bigend now that the cranck is on the bench anyway. Further, lets see if the worn camfollowers can be repaired.

A little trip.

I recently went on a road trip to Indiana to drop my daughter off at a camp she wanted to go to.

I'm not going into details about the trip, because that is irrelevant, but my wife and I were traveling home through some pretty backwoods areas, and I saw a couple of motorcycles for sale. As we drove by, I slowed WAY down and looked as we passed.

Thus, this brings the topic of a new motorcycle purchase.

My wife: "You are NOT going to buy a motorcycle in Indiana!"

Of course my response was: "Does that mean I get to buy a new motorcycle in Minnesota?"

The answer: "Why, are you selling the one you got?"

PHOOEY!

She doesn't play this game very well does she.

Now if I can just convince her that I NEED an '09 Street Glide IN ADDITION TO the bike I have, then I'm golden.

Let me leave you with a little funny quote that I saw on a key chain at a gas station from our trip. This made me chuckle.

24 hours in a day.

24 beers in a case.

Coincidence?

I think not.

.

.

Cheers.

Checking in.

Hey all. I've gotten some e-mails, and even a phone call from some concerned friends wanting to know where I'm at, and if I'm still out there, and O.K.

I am and thank you!

One of my co-workers at the insurance company I work for has been on storm duty for the last month, which meant 50-60 hour work weeks for me. To top off the extra volume of work, due to being short handed, the time frame for coverage on a couple of storm losses we had here are now expired. Just prior to the time frame expiring for allowing insured's to have coverage for these older storms, the contractors around here were acting on these claims like vultures, trying to get every last one in under the wire for coverage. This was compounding the work volume into a much smaller time frame than we are used too, making the work loads even worse. What little personal free time I had was concentrated on my family, and on riding to get my head where it needed to be. Anyway, that time frame expiration thing is now past, and my co-worker is now back. Hopefully things will slow down to a more normal pace, allowing me some free personal time to do more of the things I love. One being blogging. I will do my best to check out as many as I can, but there is no way I'll get caught up with them all.

To those who contacted me with concern for my whereabouts, and well being,

Thank you.

Another 16H

Another 16H Norton; this one must be from 1929, based on the Mark IV oil pump fitted. Quite a few modifications were made over the years, the forks and front wheel are from a later model while the rear brake plate must be earlier. The carb is a later 276. The 'double-barrel' silencer is correct for 1929.

Still, what a very nice condition. The bike was already sold when I spotted her at the Beaulieu jumble last year, let's hope it has not been restored by now.