Dysco
Mon May 10th, 2004, 11:23 PM
I figured I'd share the events of this morning with everyone who needed a good laugh. The last time I rode my BMW, the front tire chunked on me. When I got home, I noticed that a knob had torn off and a good portion of the casing was exposed. I figured it would be a good time for the GS to change out of the snow shoes and into its summer running shoes.
Since I've taken my front wheel off a million times, you'd think it'd go easier than it did. First, I made the mistake of confusing the BMW with my dirt bike and threw a tiedown over the rafter and hooked it to the cross-brace of the handlebars. I removed the wheel and rolled it across the garage before I heard the center stand collapse and turned to see the GS crash to the garage floor sideways, the front end suspended three inches above the ground. Again I made the mistake of confusing the GS with the YZ and grabbed a crate to prop the forks on. I leaned over, grabbed a fork leg, and succeeded in swinging my bike four inches to the right before back pain set in.
So I'm back to staring at the bike hanging just above the floor. The smart thing to do would have been to put the wheel back on and start over after picking it up. I wasn't being smart today. I got serious about getting it up and heaved it up from the left side. Then I put the center stand up and forced the rear wheel down. With my left toe I guided a crate under the forks. Then I walked back to the front wheel that was leaning against the wall... WHAM. The crate slid out and the forks hit the concrete hard enough to leave dents. Then the bike went back to resting on its side.
I finally wrestle the 430lb onto a sturdier portion of the crate, but not before I cursed myself for topping of the tank before parking it for the weekend in addition to nearly losing a toe because I was doing this in flip-flops. I attached another set of tiedowns to the bars to stabilize it and went out to change the tire. Strangely enough, given my recent tire-changing history at the races in Pueblo, it went very smoothly. I filled the tire up to 60 PSI and let it sit while I went to address my brake problem.
My brake pads had fallen out of the caliper sometime during the wrestling match and they were nearly worn through. I'd been putting off changing them for months so I went into the kitchen and grabbed the new pads, brake fluid, and pump. It was about this time I noticed I had an hour until I had to be on the road for work so I stepped it up a notch. The pads went in pretty easily, too, and I should have been worried. Knowing that I had pushed back a ton of fluid getting a big enough gap between the pads to slide the wheel in, I prepared for a quick bleeding session once I put the wheel on and the tools were standing by.
I cleaned and greased the axle, bearings and spacers and snuck the disc between the pads. Now for the easy part: I slid the axle in. It stopped when the "shoulder" of the axle wouldn't slide into its home in the fork leg. I hit it with the mallet. I hit it again. I beat the mallet into submission with the axle. It didn't budge. Upon closer inspection, the gap that gets closed around the axle with the pinch bolt was pretty tight since the recent meeting between the garage floor and the cast aluminum fork lowers. I tried to pry it open. The tools only marked the aluminum and did nothing to make the hole any larger. I took the wheel off.
I put the axle through the forks with no wheel to get in the way. The legs were slightly out of line but nothing too evil. Again the axle stopped before hitting the threads on the other side. I tried moving the forks a little and twisting the lowers around to get it to go in straight. Then I brought the mallet out again. This time it was successful after only twenty or so whacks. Now for the hard part: taking it out. I switched the mallet around. The axle didn't pop out like it normally would but it did come out.
I cleaned and greased the axle, bearings and spacers and snuck the disc between the pads. Now for the hard part: I slid the axle in. Then I wiggled the tire around, propping the bike up with my knee stuck under the steering head, between the forks and the engine, whacking the axle for all I was worth.... Nothing. I went inside. I checked the internet. I drank a bottle of water to replace the sweat that had been dripping into my eyes during my mechano-ballet with the mallet, tire, bike, and that stubborn axle. I noticed that I had 15 minutes before I had to leave. After a brief pep talk with myself, I headed back into the garage.
The break did me good. After 5 more minutes of balancing, wiggling and pounding, the axle gave in. I tightened everything up and went to work on the brakes. I unscrewed the first of two brake fluid reservoir screws with ease. The next did not go as easily. In fact, it didn't go at all. Now looking at a stripped screw and significant pressure in my brakes, I started to worry. I spun the wheel. It made it 1/4 turn. At this point I was prepared to cut my losses. I have three street-legal bikes in my garage. One won't make it past 55 MPH and has no front brake, one runs a little rich which stalls it occasionally in addition to the fuel leak, and the BMW. I decide to go for it.
I grabbed a quick shower and threw on some work clothes and geared up. Starting the bike up I remember to air down the tire a bit from 60- I think it's close to 30 now but couldn't locate my tire gauge. I went through my usual routine and headed down the front lawn onto the street. I tap the front brake. It works... but not well. I'm ok with that. Just as I'm about to come up to the stop sign at the busy intersection out of my neighborhood I give it another grab for kicks... nothing. The ABS has decided to prevent me from using it which, in hindsight, was probably a good thing.
I cruised back to my garage and set my mind in motion. I decided that to relieve the pressure I'd just open up the bleed valve and let some go. I didn't do it originally because I was worried about the fluid level overall and didn't want to completely drain the system. Now reason set in and I grabbed a tube. Cracking the valve unleashed a pretty good squirt of fluid. I spun the wheel and it went around almost a half-turn. I let out some more fluid and it wasn't perfect but it definitely wasn't going to lock up. After a quick test ride I decided it was ok. Pulling up into my yard on the way to the driveway, my ABS kicked in again.
I decided to show this German computer who's boss. The switch to disable the ABS had long ago gone the way of the buffalo so I got out my 10mm wrench and got busy. At 4pm, 1 hour after I usually leave for work, I rolled out: fresh new street tire in front, half used, blocked up studded knobby on the rear, and 1 ABS sensor zip-tied to the brake line. I have again been taught the lesson that repairs should never be done before work, no matter how simple. I also remembered that the reason I got my second (street legal) bike was for situations like this. I also rethought my policy about storing bikes for friends that don't run so well.
Ultimately, I'm again motivated to do all the necessary repairs to each bike in my garage, not just the bikes that I'm racing. I'm breaking free of the winter wrenching funk that had me worrying about frostbite when changing oil. So... that's 5 bikes with 2 sets of forks to rebuild, 3 carb-jobs, 1 valve adjustment, one total top-end, a clutch, a taillight, and one more tire to go... hopefully with sturdier shoes and a whole lot more time.
If you’ve actually read this whole thing, I probably owe you a beer. If you read it and understood how crummy my morning was, and how bleak my motorcycle future looks, you probably want to buy me a beer. Let’s call it even. :D
Since I've taken my front wheel off a million times, you'd think it'd go easier than it did. First, I made the mistake of confusing the BMW with my dirt bike and threw a tiedown over the rafter and hooked it to the cross-brace of the handlebars. I removed the wheel and rolled it across the garage before I heard the center stand collapse and turned to see the GS crash to the garage floor sideways, the front end suspended three inches above the ground. Again I made the mistake of confusing the GS with the YZ and grabbed a crate to prop the forks on. I leaned over, grabbed a fork leg, and succeeded in swinging my bike four inches to the right before back pain set in.
So I'm back to staring at the bike hanging just above the floor. The smart thing to do would have been to put the wheel back on and start over after picking it up. I wasn't being smart today. I got serious about getting it up and heaved it up from the left side. Then I put the center stand up and forced the rear wheel down. With my left toe I guided a crate under the forks. Then I walked back to the front wheel that was leaning against the wall... WHAM. The crate slid out and the forks hit the concrete hard enough to leave dents. Then the bike went back to resting on its side.
I finally wrestle the 430lb onto a sturdier portion of the crate, but not before I cursed myself for topping of the tank before parking it for the weekend in addition to nearly losing a toe because I was doing this in flip-flops. I attached another set of tiedowns to the bars to stabilize it and went out to change the tire. Strangely enough, given my recent tire-changing history at the races in Pueblo, it went very smoothly. I filled the tire up to 60 PSI and let it sit while I went to address my brake problem.
My brake pads had fallen out of the caliper sometime during the wrestling match and they were nearly worn through. I'd been putting off changing them for months so I went into the kitchen and grabbed the new pads, brake fluid, and pump. It was about this time I noticed I had an hour until I had to be on the road for work so I stepped it up a notch. The pads went in pretty easily, too, and I should have been worried. Knowing that I had pushed back a ton of fluid getting a big enough gap between the pads to slide the wheel in, I prepared for a quick bleeding session once I put the wheel on and the tools were standing by.
I cleaned and greased the axle, bearings and spacers and snuck the disc between the pads. Now for the easy part: I slid the axle in. It stopped when the "shoulder" of the axle wouldn't slide into its home in the fork leg. I hit it with the mallet. I hit it again. I beat the mallet into submission with the axle. It didn't budge. Upon closer inspection, the gap that gets closed around the axle with the pinch bolt was pretty tight since the recent meeting between the garage floor and the cast aluminum fork lowers. I tried to pry it open. The tools only marked the aluminum and did nothing to make the hole any larger. I took the wheel off.
I put the axle through the forks with no wheel to get in the way. The legs were slightly out of line but nothing too evil. Again the axle stopped before hitting the threads on the other side. I tried moving the forks a little and twisting the lowers around to get it to go in straight. Then I brought the mallet out again. This time it was successful after only twenty or so whacks. Now for the hard part: taking it out. I switched the mallet around. The axle didn't pop out like it normally would but it did come out.
I cleaned and greased the axle, bearings and spacers and snuck the disc between the pads. Now for the hard part: I slid the axle in. Then I wiggled the tire around, propping the bike up with my knee stuck under the steering head, between the forks and the engine, whacking the axle for all I was worth.... Nothing. I went inside. I checked the internet. I drank a bottle of water to replace the sweat that had been dripping into my eyes during my mechano-ballet with the mallet, tire, bike, and that stubborn axle. I noticed that I had 15 minutes before I had to leave. After a brief pep talk with myself, I headed back into the garage.
The break did me good. After 5 more minutes of balancing, wiggling and pounding, the axle gave in. I tightened everything up and went to work on the brakes. I unscrewed the first of two brake fluid reservoir screws with ease. The next did not go as easily. In fact, it didn't go at all. Now looking at a stripped screw and significant pressure in my brakes, I started to worry. I spun the wheel. It made it 1/4 turn. At this point I was prepared to cut my losses. I have three street-legal bikes in my garage. One won't make it past 55 MPH and has no front brake, one runs a little rich which stalls it occasionally in addition to the fuel leak, and the BMW. I decide to go for it.
I grabbed a quick shower and threw on some work clothes and geared up. Starting the bike up I remember to air down the tire a bit from 60- I think it's close to 30 now but couldn't locate my tire gauge. I went through my usual routine and headed down the front lawn onto the street. I tap the front brake. It works... but not well. I'm ok with that. Just as I'm about to come up to the stop sign at the busy intersection out of my neighborhood I give it another grab for kicks... nothing. The ABS has decided to prevent me from using it which, in hindsight, was probably a good thing.
I cruised back to my garage and set my mind in motion. I decided that to relieve the pressure I'd just open up the bleed valve and let some go. I didn't do it originally because I was worried about the fluid level overall and didn't want to completely drain the system. Now reason set in and I grabbed a tube. Cracking the valve unleashed a pretty good squirt of fluid. I spun the wheel and it went around almost a half-turn. I let out some more fluid and it wasn't perfect but it definitely wasn't going to lock up. After a quick test ride I decided it was ok. Pulling up into my yard on the way to the driveway, my ABS kicked in again.
I decided to show this German computer who's boss. The switch to disable the ABS had long ago gone the way of the buffalo so I got out my 10mm wrench and got busy. At 4pm, 1 hour after I usually leave for work, I rolled out: fresh new street tire in front, half used, blocked up studded knobby on the rear, and 1 ABS sensor zip-tied to the brake line. I have again been taught the lesson that repairs should never be done before work, no matter how simple. I also remembered that the reason I got my second (street legal) bike was for situations like this. I also rethought my policy about storing bikes for friends that don't run so well.
Ultimately, I'm again motivated to do all the necessary repairs to each bike in my garage, not just the bikes that I'm racing. I'm breaking free of the winter wrenching funk that had me worrying about frostbite when changing oil. So... that's 5 bikes with 2 sets of forks to rebuild, 3 carb-jobs, 1 valve adjustment, one total top-end, a clutch, a taillight, and one more tire to go... hopefully with sturdier shoes and a whole lot more time.
If you’ve actually read this whole thing, I probably owe you a beer. If you read it and understood how crummy my morning was, and how bleak my motorcycle future looks, you probably want to buy me a beer. Let’s call it even. :D