Gift horse - part 2

The first area that received a full rebuild was the front end of the bike.

Once the fairing was removed (not as simple as it sounds), off came the headlamp, handlebar, front wheel and the complete fork. With that gone, we replaced the steering head bearings as the existing ones were worn out, and the outer races especially were all notchy. Doing this required the use of special pullers from CycleWorks in the US to get the job done. This was a moderately-sized pain in the ass, mainly because it took us a minute to figure out exactly how the puller works, and also because the outer races in the steering neck were stuck and seized solid: it took a while to get them out. With the steering neck thoroughly clean, we pressed in new outer races, then a new dust cap on the bottom of the steering stem, a new inner bearing and back onto the frame.

Here you can see the lower yoke with the steering stem pressed in:

A new dust cap, rather delicate and essential:

And the new bearing; I spent quite a bit of time cleaning the oil off of the bearings and packing them with grease properly.

Here are a couple of Hungarian FAGs:

Here, pressed into the steering neck:

Eventually we'll get to the swingarm bearings, as these machines are clever enough to have adjustable tapered roller bearings. They are probably due for replacement, but they'll have to wait for now. At least we have a puller (from CycleWorks as well) for those, so it should be a fairly straightforward job.

From the archives. Daylight saving time.

Once again, we have "come out the other side" as the rock we're living on carries on hurtling through space around the sun, a rising star to shine more light in our days, so we can ride our motorcycles (like the Rising Star, get it?) and put up photos and nonsensical ramblings here on the Rising Star.
Happy DST everyone!

Old Irons rally, July 2017

Gift horse

In July 1979, the good people at BMW built an R80/7, which at the time was the workhorse of their lineup. Not as high-performing or advanced as the RS (with its wind tunnel designed fairing), nor as sporty as the R100S, not as specialized as the R100RT or the R100T, but bigger than the newly introduced R65. It was a no-nonsense, capable motorcycle conceived to give its user versatility and cover a wide range of uses. They built this particular one to a "full optional" specification having, most notably, twin disc brakes at the front, cast wheels (the infamous early version snowflakes*), the 'S' fairing, side panniers with mounting brackets, and a touring handlebar to name but the most readily apparent upgrades.

It has a bit of a special history to us. For the longest time it was the personal bike of a dear family friend, a keen and intrepid motorcyclist with no sense of danger or personal safety, who took it as far as Scotland and other long voyages across Europe, racking up many happy adventure-filled miles. 

Due to unfortunate circumstances though, the bike ended up relegated outside the back of a hangar, and there it stayed, decaying in the elements for over 10 years at least (my guess is close to 20, judging by the looks of things).

Meanwhile our friend evolved and went through several high capacity motorcycles, including Adventure KTMs, one of which he rode all the way to Iceland. At some point this BMW emerged, and because it was no longer something he would use, he decided to part with it, but because he had such a connection to a machine that took him on so many adventures in his youth, he wanted to make sure the bike would go to a good home, and gifted it to my dad.

He in turn promptly set about tearing it down for a rebuild, and we decided that what we wanted for this particular bike was to keep it as close to stock as possible, including its somewhat faded appearance, to honor its provenance. 

It has obvious patina, a word I'm not fond of as it's just a fancy way of saying "damage", but it's acceptable damage for what is really a neat, matching numbers bike that's over 40 years old and whose mission going forward will be to tour in comfort and to be highly practical, useable and reliable.

This is going to be a slow project, I suspect many moons will wax and wane before it's ready to ride once more, but rather than wait until then and write up the whole thing in one go, I though it would be better to go by chapters, as it were. So, buckle up!

*There was a factory recall for 19″ front wheels, as some could crack under hard use. Thankfully the wheel on this particular motorcycle appears to have been replaced with the reinforced type. More on this in a future post.

An unexpected triumph.

It had been two thousand eight hundred and sixty-four days since I last rode this motorcycle.

Nearly eight years. 

Ninety-four goddamn months.

The world has changed a lot in that time and it's fair to say I had completely forgotten what this motorcycle feels like.

A few years ago (again, years, it's always years) I had foolishly thought that the time had come to get this back on the road, and I spent some time checking fasteners, fluids and tire pressure, but alas I didn't get to ride it.

After that, again, a long time ago, my dad and I had gone over several things on this bike, as you can read over here. Everything worked, but there was one thing that I doubted and needed to double check, namely the charging system. 

So, recently, with a simple multimeter (remember this is a 6v system), I checked the charge at the battery with the engine running and got readings well above 7v, so I'd say the alternator is doing its job. The rectifier is the original Lucas component and it never inspired great confidence as the fins seem to be loose and barely held together by the mounting bolt. Fearing that it could have been damaged, I had already acquired a solid state modern replacement that is now standing by in the spares kit. That said, having performed all the various tests as outlined in the workshop manual (and made infinitely clearer at this website), the rectifier seems to be working as expected, with consistent readings of current flowing one way but not the other. For the time being I'm going to leave it alone, and I'll have the replacement with me should the Lucas unit fail.

So with the electrics checked, there is nothing else to do but to ride this beauty.

Above: the iconic layout found on late-50s Triumph motorcycles. There are so many design elements that make these bikes so special: the nacelle, obviously, but also all the various gauges and controls within it; the parcel grid on the tank, and the elaborate tank badges. The swept-back handlebar is also an integral part of that look, and together with the extra long grips, it affords the pilot a very relaxed riding position, albeit one that may take some getting used to, if coming from other handlebars without so much pull-back.

Once you settle in on the comfortable seat, you'll find yourself in what feels like an almost tucked in position (because of that handlebar) even though in actual facts you're still quite upright; there is something streamlined and somewhat art déco about it.

It should be no surprise that, after such a long period of hibernation, the bike would be recalcitrant to start; what should be surprising is that it did start with relatively little fuss and settled into a very healthy idle, picking up revs without hesitation, a crisp note from the exhaust and no smoke or leaks to be found anywhere (alright, except for a minor leak from the kickstart bush, which I discovered after the test ride).

The menacing sky and the Buran, fast-approaching from the north east, meant I had to keep my test ride short, but it was enough to see that all is well, and that the Twenty-one is finally ready for the road. 

Some of the things I noticed were the gearbox, which takes a minuscule amount of pressure to shift gears, the brakes, surprisingly effective, the overall comfort of the ride and the new tires that seem to perform adequately well.

This is a small motorcycle and although it is in good shape (I would go as far as to say it is reliable), I am aware of the fact that it is rather delicate. That's not to say it is flawed in terms of engineering or execution, just that it must be handled with care, and maintenance must always be thorough.

Something else that came to mind as I accelerated through the gears, nearing an indicated top speed of 55mph, is that this could truly be an adventure motorcycle: anyone can jump on one of the brand new behemoths that are so popular these days, and go very far. I doubt many of those riders would consider venturing far from the safe confines of their neighborhood on a 1957 350cc. Triumph. Which is precisely what I'm planning to do.

Moto Fizz!

Moto Fizz is a Japanese brand of motorcycle luggage that's been around for a long time, though it is relatively unknown in Europe. It is also a household name in my family by virtue of the fact that my dad bought one of their bags a million years ago, and has used it on many different bikes, from long trips, to daily commutes, supermarket runs and everything in between.

Since then, Moto Fizz has become imbued with something of an animistic nature, taken on quasi-idol status, and it is always spoken with a smile around these parts. Imagine my surprise and my delight when I received a brand new Moto Fizz bag for my birthday last year! First of all, because I just assumed the brand was no longer in business (quite the contrary as it turns out!) and then because I now have a Moto Fizz all of my own.

On top of that, this promises to be a serious upgrade to the way I carry luggage on my motorcycles, and could potentially be the one bag to end them all (see more below the fold). The "camping seat bag 2", as it is called, is a high quality piece of kit, and incorporates more straps, pockets, accessories, compartments, zippers, nets and buckles than I can count.

The bottom of the bag is held together internally by two adjustable straps that serve two functions: they help keep the bag's shape, and they create a bottom "compartment" that can be used for gear such as the tent and sleeping bag. The main volume of the bag can be taken up by the self-inflating mat, an extra blanket, clothes, a camping cooking set, toolkit, and spare parts, leaving the various extra compartments for other items you might need during the ride (e.g. sunscreen, a snack or the rain gear).

Both sides can be expanded to significantly increase overall capacity, and opened to easily access the main compartment without opening the top "lid", thereby adding versatility. There are also two adjustable straps at the back of the bag to hold a sleeping mat, this is useful but obviously you'd need to waterproof the mat in another plastic bag of some sort. 

I will probably test this new set-up on the Fastback first, but speaking of the Sportster, over the years I have used several different arrangements to carry luggage on that particular bike. All have had their pros and cons, obviously, but there are some that stood out and others I would not try again:

Yellow Touratech - killer look, absolutely waterproof, very lightweight yet durable but very impractical to get at your gear: you have to open it completely, which for me also means undoing all of the mounting straps. The application that works for this bag is as main compartment for a long trip, with essential items kept in a secondary MOLLE type bag somewhere else on the bike, possibly on the left-hand side fender strut.

FAMSA round black bag - reasonably well made, perfect size for a full set of camping gear, tools and spares, clothes and rain gear. Easy enough to access, but odd mounting system and a polarizing look (even to me! sometimes I think it looks good, other times not so much). Not waterproof.

GIVI CL502 sissy bar bag - obviously well made but this is an overcomplicated "modular" system that seems the result of a drunken fanboy's fever dream, probably from having watched too many episodes of that '90s tv show with Lorenzo Lamas (don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about). To be fair I wasn't using it as it was meant to be (i.e. on a sissy bar) but this is just not for me: too small, too fussy.

Eastpack weekender bag - a civilian, non-motorcycle piece of luggage, good for carrying tools & spares, rain gear and a change of clothes. Not waterproof and obviously very small. Application here is only in case of a one or two-night tour, with hotel accommodation.

Cheap pleather: this one turned out to be quite the surprise; an absolute dirt-cheap and rather ugly, non-descript faux-leather bag that was probably meant as a gym bag. Another one absolutely not developed as a piece of motorcycle luggage, and yet... it turned out to be great. You could easily fit a basic set of camping gear, essential tools, rain gear and a change of clothes, enough for a couple of nights away in the mountains. In terms of "bang for your buck" this is probably unbeatable and I would probably use this again... if only I could find it again!

Honorable mention for the original H-D saddlebags which I can no longer use as the 1200S has piggyback shock absorbers, negating the possibility of fitting the mounting brackets.

Back to the topic at hand, I will report back once I've had a chance to test the new Moto Fizz during our next trip, hopefully sometime in the spring.