JOE!!!!!!
Thu Feb 3rd, 2005, 10:37 PM
Here's a copy of an email I sent a friend regarding my winter project.
Subject: The British are coming
Or, should I say, the British is coming.
Hi Polly,
My Triumph has been ready to ride for a week, but our weather is very normal for this time of year, which is to say, sucky. So, we finally get a decent day into the 50's and I move it outside to try it out. Well, let's just start it first and take it a step at a time. Won't turn over. Battery's kinda old. Jump it. Won't turn over. Wait, do you have to pull in the clutch on this one? Fires right up. Boy, I'm glad nobody saw this. So let's let it idle a while. What a sound! This 3 cylinder engine sounds like no other motorcycle on earth. Well, everything looks AOK, grab a jacket and helmet, let's see if it goes. Walk back out, there's antifreeze coming out the overflow tube. Shit. Shut it off, give it the once over. Stumped. Definitely overheated, but why? Well, Erico Motorsports is still open. They're the Triumph and Ducati dealer I've become attached to. Friendly folks, fairly knowledgeable. They let me crawl all over the used and new Triumphs for reference and comparison. And those Italian sportbikes! Picture Homer Simpson drooling and saying, "mmmmm, Ducati...."
......Where was I? Oh, yeah, I called Andrew, the service manager, who used to ride a Daytona just like mine, for advice. It went something like this:
"Andrew? This is Joe, with the 98 Daytona (sniff)"
"Hey, Joe, what's up?"
"Well, it's all back together (sniff) and it started and overheated and (sob) puked antifreeze all over and the temp gauge doesn't work and (little mewling sounds) the fan never even turned on!"
"Hmm, well, let me think. My best guess is, it'll cost several thousand dollars, and even then, we'll never really be sure we've got it figured out."
"But I wanna die!"
"Or, you could just buy one of our $25,000 Ducati's."
(unintelligible bawling from Joe at this point)
Anyway, we discussed possibilities, and when stuff like this happens, you just go thru a trial-and-error logical process of elimination and finally get to the core of the problem. Or, if you're me, you just stare at the fucking thing in the hope that something miraculous will come to you. Like, something's plugged in wrong...
Wait...
The coolant temperature sender and the incoming air temperature sensor both use the same kind of plug. Oh, I didn't.
Yes, I did. Reversed 'em. Double check with the wiring diagram. Yup.
So, properly rewired, fire back up, let it warm up, everything works beautifully. It's now dark and cold, but grab that jacket and helmet, and roll out over the last of the ice puddles and ease 'er down the street, into the night. Runs like a dream and sounds like nothing you've ever heard. But it's really getting cold and the tires are brand new and slick. A careful 16 miles later, I'm back and the Triumph is going into the garage with the GoldWing and Godzilla the Kawasaki. Parked right between the sublime and the ridiculous, it's now out there with The Boys, no longer in intensive care in the living room. When I went back out a little later, after a celebration supper of pizza and non-alcoholic German beer, there was the Triumph, leaning into and touching the Ninja.
Aawwww.....
I left the little space heater on for the night.
Joe
Subject: The British are coming
Or, should I say, the British is coming.
Hi Polly,
My Triumph has been ready to ride for a week, but our weather is very normal for this time of year, which is to say, sucky. So, we finally get a decent day into the 50's and I move it outside to try it out. Well, let's just start it first and take it a step at a time. Won't turn over. Battery's kinda old. Jump it. Won't turn over. Wait, do you have to pull in the clutch on this one? Fires right up. Boy, I'm glad nobody saw this. So let's let it idle a while. What a sound! This 3 cylinder engine sounds like no other motorcycle on earth. Well, everything looks AOK, grab a jacket and helmet, let's see if it goes. Walk back out, there's antifreeze coming out the overflow tube. Shit. Shut it off, give it the once over. Stumped. Definitely overheated, but why? Well, Erico Motorsports is still open. They're the Triumph and Ducati dealer I've become attached to. Friendly folks, fairly knowledgeable. They let me crawl all over the used and new Triumphs for reference and comparison. And those Italian sportbikes! Picture Homer Simpson drooling and saying, "mmmmm, Ducati...."
......Where was I? Oh, yeah, I called Andrew, the service manager, who used to ride a Daytona just like mine, for advice. It went something like this:
"Andrew? This is Joe, with the 98 Daytona (sniff)"
"Hey, Joe, what's up?"
"Well, it's all back together (sniff) and it started and overheated and (sob) puked antifreeze all over and the temp gauge doesn't work and (little mewling sounds) the fan never even turned on!"
"Hmm, well, let me think. My best guess is, it'll cost several thousand dollars, and even then, we'll never really be sure we've got it figured out."
"But I wanna die!"
"Or, you could just buy one of our $25,000 Ducati's."
(unintelligible bawling from Joe at this point)
Anyway, we discussed possibilities, and when stuff like this happens, you just go thru a trial-and-error logical process of elimination and finally get to the core of the problem. Or, if you're me, you just stare at the fucking thing in the hope that something miraculous will come to you. Like, something's plugged in wrong...
Wait...
The coolant temperature sender and the incoming air temperature sensor both use the same kind of plug. Oh, I didn't.
Yes, I did. Reversed 'em. Double check with the wiring diagram. Yup.
So, properly rewired, fire back up, let it warm up, everything works beautifully. It's now dark and cold, but grab that jacket and helmet, and roll out over the last of the ice puddles and ease 'er down the street, into the night. Runs like a dream and sounds like nothing you've ever heard. But it's really getting cold and the tires are brand new and slick. A careful 16 miles later, I'm back and the Triumph is going into the garage with the GoldWing and Godzilla the Kawasaki. Parked right between the sublime and the ridiculous, it's now out there with The Boys, no longer in intensive care in the living room. When I went back out a little later, after a celebration supper of pizza and non-alcoholic German beer, there was the Triumph, leaning into and touching the Ninja.
Aawwww.....
I left the little space heater on for the night.
Joe