Why Change (Part The First)?

I tend to have a fairly busy interior life. I spend a lot of time thinking about things, and assessing things, and calculating things, telling myself stories, and 'reading up', and having arguments with my internal voices, without ever telling anyone what I am doing. It's probably the result of being an only child. You get used to doing things for yourself, without constantly batting ideas about with siblings and being persuaded this way and that. You consider, you make up your mind, and you act. But those around you may be totally unaware that you are considering anything at all, so sometimes the decision seems to be out of the blue, even to those closest to you. It isn't, but it looks that way.

So it is with cars, and of course bikes. I don't think I have ever consciously planned the purchase of a vehicle by reading reports, making the rounds of dealerships, test riding/driving several options, and saving my pennies for something I might buy next year. I can't do that. What happens is that an idea pops (or is popped) into my head, right into the middle of an ongoing train of thought, and I go through a rapid sequence of mental calculations:

• Does it excite/interest/intrigue me?
• Will it do what I need it to do?
• Have I got the resources to do it?
• Do I really, really want it?
  

• No? - forgotten about immediately.
• Yes? - right, let's do it now.
  

Regular readers will remember (wake up at the back there) that I bought the Bonneville as a reaction to the Honda Pan European. The Honda was bought (with proceeds from the sale of a fabulous Ducati) because Anna had finally agreed to do some Continental touring with me. When it became clear that this was never going to happen for reasons of her health and fitness, the Honda became just too much bike to have sitting on the drive. The daily driver, the XT, hit so many buttons (fun, utility, cheapness, 'soft spot') that the Honda was hardly ever used. So one day, apparently out of the blue, I decided to sell it and get something smaller and nimbler. It wasn't out of the blue at all, of course. I had been thinking about it for months, and the feeling of 'it's got to go' had rumbled on for a long time. But when I finally came to a decision it was lightning-quick, even though it was a hard one to make, as what was being abandoned was not so much a motorbike as a plan and a dream for two people. Nevertheless, I was having my usual mooch around the local dealership and got talking to someone about the Triumph Bonnevilles they had in. One was available at around the magic figure that I thought the Honda would fetch, and the deal, in my head, was done. I had an eBay listing up and running that night, and in the seven days of the auction I sorted out a deal on the Bonnie. Ten days after flicking a mental switch, I was riding around on a different bike.

Why the Bonneville, and not a similar and perhaps more capable middleweight like a Versys or a Hornet or a Diversion? I guess I liked the looks of the bike above all. I have no emotional attachment to Triumph or even to British bikes particularly, and for a long time I regarded the 'retro' twins as ersatz and rather naff. But I like naked bikes and have a bit of an aversion to body plastics (fragile, flimsy, expensive to replace and get in the way of simple maintenance), so the simple all-metal, what-you-see-is-what-you-get of the Bonnie was rather appealing. And the test ride was the deal-maker: glorious sound from the open pipes, comfy seat and perfect riding position (remember this was only a twenty-minute appraisal), and I was hooked. Or, if not hooked, convinced that the Bonnie was a worthy way to replace the gargantuan, phenomenally-capable but bland Honda. Half the cylinders, half the horsepower, half the speed, twice the fun, as I told myself.

Fifteen months and 6000 miles later, I have obviously got a much clearer view of the bike, and I have decided that it was not the keeper I had imagined it might be. Why this should be must wait until another post, as it's gone 9 pm and I have to up at quarter to sodding five tomorrow and I am sleepy.

More anon.

Genius

Apologies for the lack of posting over the last few days. There have been many outrageous things in the news, and I have ridden the bikes quite a bit, but somehow nothing has fired me up to make me want to post anything. Meh. I've been reading a lot (both proper books and stuff on the webs) and perhaps I have just been a while in reception rather than production mode.

However, I know some readers of this blog are into ingenious technological solutions, and I just had to post this one.

Problem: a lot of bikes today are made without centre stands, so it is impossible to get the back wheel off the ground to do essential stuff like chain lubrication or tyre changing without spending lots of extra dosh on the appropriate kit. There is a simple solution, involving devices to raise the frame on the opposite side to the side stand, but these can be quite expensive. Then I saw this video, made by a member (greyplague) of the Triumph Rat forum that I belong to. It cost him next to nothing, apart from about an hour of his time and a bit of ingenuity.

I like this, and I am going to make one - when the bits come along on the flotsam-stream of life.

Good eBay experience

I mentioned in an earlier post that I fitted a Powerlet-type power outlet to the Bonnie.

The first thing to say is that this type of connector is way better than the usual cigar-lighter type. It's much more robust, with proper brass contacts, and it fits positively with a nice meaty 'click'. It can handle a lot more power than a cigar-lighter type, and is unlikely to be dislodged by vibration or a clumsy knock. So I set about getting an adapter to allow me to use my devices with the new power socket. The idea is that the only connector exposed to the weather will be this one. I wanted a lead which will go up into the tank bag, where I can make the other connections in a dry and protected area.

The connectors from Powerlet themselves are hugely expensive - probably brilliant quality, but unaffordable for me at the moment. But the beauty of this connector is that it is made to an international standard, so there should be many suppliers who can deliver the goods. I went to eBay and located what I wanted - a Powerlet plug with a split lead to two cigar-lighter sockets. That should take care of the satnav and the phone. The adapter was described as being 37 cm in length, and this sounded ideal for reaching into the tank bag without a lot of wasted cable, so I Bought It Now for the princely sum of £8.95.

It was delivered in a couple of days, looked good and well-made, and both sockets worked - always as well to check, in my experience. I gave the seller some positive feedback. But when I mounted it on the bike ...



... I realised that the leads weren't long enough. The leads were more like 12 cm than 37, and while this wouldn't stop me using them, it was not what I had ordered. More in hope than expectation, I emailed the seller to explain the mistake and asking for the 37 cm leads that I had paid for. To be honest, I wasn't expecting much of a response. These are hardly expensive items, and at this end of the scale, eBay sellers are rarely too concerned about customer satisfaction.

I was pleased to get a very polite email by return, apologising for the error and explaining the mix-up. The seller promised me a new set with the proper 37 cm leads, and said that I could keep the others in case they came in useful. This morning, they arrived - postage free and of the correct length. They work fine, and are the ideal length for what I need.



So, a very satisfactory outcome. Reasonable prices, quick delivery, good communications and a desire to keep customers happy - what more could you wish for? I wrote to thank him and mentioned the blog, and in reply he wrote

We try to cater to the biking community, so if there is anything you, or you fellow readers need, please let me know.

So a big thank-you and highest recommendation to James at qualityparts09. He's got 99.9% positive feedback over nearly 6000 transactions, so others must feel the same way. I've had a poke around his eBay store, and it's a boy's paradise, really. I'd certainly deal with the guy again on the basis of my experience.

Triumph Auxiliary Power Socket

I really like having a aux power socket on a bike. It lets you use a satnav (robbed from the car and suitably encased and mounted) for one thing, and on a longer trip it is nice to be able to charge the phone (iPhone app Ride Logger eats the battery in a few hours) and even run a small compressor for blowing up the air bed if you are camping.

And lazy.

Until now, I have relied on a jury-rigged arrangement consisting of a double fag-lighter socket from Halford's wired direct to the battery via an inline fuse. Together with the connector for the battery charger and associated wiring, this made a bit of a mess of the underseat space, and I was keen to tidy it all up.

Last week, I bit the bullet and bought the 'official' Triumph accessory outlet. It was about £22 from Jack Lilley, and I am delighted with it. Fitting it took less than half an hour, including removing and remounting the tank, and checking and weatherproofing all the electrics while I was in there. There is a redundant connector underneath the tank, taped to the main wiring loom and leading back to the official fuse-box, and all you have to do it slit the tape, pull out the cable, and plug it into the back of the socket. The socket fits with one bolt to the rear engine steady. In place, it all looks very tidy and proper.



Slight problem: the outlet is of the Powerlet type. This is the universal DIN standard for power outlets on bikes (BMWs have been fitting them for years), snowmobiles, and so on, as it is unaffected by vibration and can handle high power loads. However, it is not compatible with the standard cigarette-lighter plug found on most car accessories.



Two choices, then: one, I alter every single accessory I own to mate with the Powerlet socket (expensive and tedious, and furthermore I won't be able to use them in the car) or two, I get an adapter lead so that I can use all my accessories with the Powerlet socket.

Option Two it is, then. Story continues in another post.

On a different note, the Ride of Respect stickers are showing signs of getting damp, despite being under a bike cover.



I hope they last until the end of Sunday, at least.

Annual torture

I've had the Bonneville exactly a year, which means it is due for another year's road tax. I tried to do it online, but the system had the vapours and said it had no current MoT. I knew for a fact that it did, but as I would need one within the month anyway I took it back to the supplying dealer for the test. For one thing, he told me that the 'Not For Road Use' silencers would sail through an MoT, so I knew if I took it to him I would have some comeback if they failed.

As it happened, it flew through the test. And so it should - it's in near-perfect condition, and I had checked all the test items within the last week, so I knew it was match-fit.

So why, when I kept looking through the viewing window in the shop, did I have a feeling of dread? It happens every time, whatever vehicle I take for test. I assume it will fail, and fail expensively, even if I have checked everything twice and then double-checked the first checks. I'm sure there will be something. I always assume the worst. That's strange, really, because in everyday life I am fairly optimistic. I assume things will turn out OK, and they usually do.

The nearest I ever came to kissing a man was in 1971, when an elderly and rather portly gentleman gave me a pink slip when I passed my driving test. I didn't give in to the urge then, and I haven't since, but when any bloke, no matter how greasy or unsociable, gives me an MoT pass certificate, I want to hug him at the least.

If I ever find a female MoT tester, my problems will be solved.

Mmmmmmmmm.

Electrickery 2

Electricity is evil. It is doubly evil when confined within a motor vehicle. The reason for this is that electricity is the cause of proportionately more intermittent faults than any other system. If something rattles, you can find it and tighten it. If something corrodes, you can strip, repair and refinish it. Even fuel faults (which can be little buggers if they feel in the mood) are usually amenable to logic and careful diagnostics. But electrical faults are thoroughly wicked little monsters who disable your ride, and then disappear. Have they gone, or are they still there, waiting for you to reach that dark, fast stretch of rush-hour A-road before stranding you instantly without power or lights?

I mentioned recently that I had experienced a misfire on the XT and had turned back and dug the Triumph out of hibernation to complete the journey. Yesterday, I got out the multi-meter and checked everything. Twice. Nothing wrong. The battery is reading 12.6V, the alternator is delivering 14.4V at fast idle, reducing to 13.2V if I switch on the lights and heated grips. In other words, fine. I took it for a 5-mile ride (up the hill, so if it conked it would be easier to push - I'm not 18 any more), and it behaved normally. I rode it slow, I rode it fast; I lugged it and revved it; I let it run down to nothing in a high gear and then whacked it open, waiting for the gulp and cough that I had the other evening. Nope - it ran sweetly and well.

I took it out to the shops this morning. Same thing. So now I am in a dilemma: do I use it for work tomorrow, as the problem has gone away? Or do I play safe and take the Triumph on the grounds that the gremlins are just hiding and waiting for their next chance to do me some bad?

The only thing I can guess is wrong is the ignition switch. I know the contacts are a bit iffy. Sometimes increasing the electrical load (like switching on the lights) will kill everything, and only switching the key off and on again will cure it. Perhaps that's it.

I have now got a new switch on order from David Lambert, and I will fit that when I next have a day off. In the meantime, I think the Triumph needs a bit of a run. It's dirty again, after all.

Rust Never Sleeps

No, not one of mine. I just posted this photo to help me feel better. "Things could be worse."

Yesterday I had a look at the Triumph and saw how badly it has fared in the last few weeks. It has stood outside through all the snow and the cold, and it has suffered. I have only used it a few times, and it shows. Today, I have spent most of the day on it, and it is looking better, but I am very disappointed by the way the finish has coped (or not) with the weather.

When I last gave it a bit of attention, it was still looking pretty good. That was back at the beginning of December, I think. This morning, on close inspection, there were telltale signs of rust everywhere. The wheel rims have broken out in a rash, and the fork legs have pitted. The footrest brackets have a rusty glow shining through the thin layer of matt-black paint. The axle nuts and adjusters look decidedly second-hand, all the fasteners have gone furry, and likewise the cooling fins. The lacquer on the engine cases (which had already started to lift at the edges) now looks as if it is ready to part company with the metal in a big way. The chain and rear sprocket, despite being lubed religiously every week and the later addition of a chain oiler, are orange throughout, and there is a big rusty stain on the rear tyre where the water has dripped. The bike looks as if it has aged five years in as many weeks.

I must have spent three or four hours on it today. It is now surgically clean, and all the rust has been polished out (although once the finish is breached, it will keep coming back, I know). All the shiny bits are covered in clean engine oil, likewise the chain, and the whole thing has been treated to a coat of protective spray. It looks good again, but I know that I am fighting a losing battle. For this reason I have done what I should have done two months ago - cleared the crap out of the garage and put it away under cover. It can stay there until the Spring.

Triumph - you aren't going to like this, but the Bonnie is the worst bike I have ever had for corrosion. Thin chrome, thin paint, badly-plated fasteners, poor lacquering. Yamahas are not known for the robustness of their finish, but the XT looks no worse than it did before Christmas, and it has had the same, or less, attention than the Bonnie. And that's a 15-year-old bike that has had a hard life.

Hondas are famed for their build quality, so it's no surprise that the Pan survived a severe winter outside with only a couple of rust spots on the brake pedal where my boots had worn the finish away. But my Suzuki Bandit (another bike famous for its cheap and cheerful finish) survived the winters well and looked the same when as sold it as the day I bought it. Likewise the Ducati: Italian bikes are well-known for falling over at the first sign of rain, but the bike lost nothing over the winter before last. All my bikes get the same treatment: they live outside, they are used in all weathers, and every week they get a good wash, the important bits get sprayed with WD40 or similar, and all the moving bits get a meeting with Mr Oilcan. For every other bike I have owned recently, this has been enough to keep them up to scratch. Not the Triumph.

The Yam has had a health check and some air in its tyres, and this is now the Official Winter Bike again. The Bonnie can stay in the garage until the weather improves. I expected a British bike to be capable of withstanding a British winter, but it looks like I was wrong. The XT has been a faithful buddy for a long time now, and it looks as though I have plenty of use for it yet.

Doff-doff-doff. Heh.

Autumn Journey

At the end of this month, a younger cousin of mine is getting married. The wedding and reception are going to be in the Newcastle area, and of course I will be there. The wedding and reception are in the same hotel, so I have booked in for the night before and the night after as well. I don't see my family often, so there will be plenty of catching-up to do, and I foresee some alcoholic consumption as well.

So, how to get there? Well, the obvious answer is the car. Warm, dry, comfortable, Radio 4 when I got bored, and plenty of CDs for when The Archers or a 'radio drama' comes on, plenty of room for luggage, hook over the back door for the suit. Satnav, hands-free phone, drink and snax on the passenger seat.

And boring.

So I'm going on the bike. It's a long time since I did a long journey at this time of year on two wheels. I ride year-round, but from October to March it's generally only commuting and errands, with the occasional fun run. This will be 340 miles each way of mixed A-roads and some of the busiest motorways in the UK. On a Friday. And with less then ten hours of daylight to play with. It will be cold, although not midwinter cold, and the possibility of rain is quite high.

On the positive side, I have got all the kit to keep me warm and dry ("Up to a point, Lord Copper") and the bike is easily capable of the journey. I have two decent-sized hard cases to carry all my stuff, and an Ortlieb dry-bag if I can't get my suit in the cases. I can rig up a power lead to run the satnav (useful for route-finding at the far end, plus planning fuel stops and so on) and the Ride Logger iPhone app. I can't mount the TomTom like I did on the Pan, as the Bonnie has no fairing, but it can live in the tankbag and I will consult it when stationary.

And the hotel has dedicated motorcycle parking. In fact, when I read that on their website, it's what made me decide to go on the bike in the first place. It would seem rude not to.

I am also planning to call in on an elderly relative in Richmond that I haven't seen for a long time, and on one of the legs, depending on time, I plan to take the pretty route across the Yorkshire Dales and the Forest of Bowland. That's a landscape that I don't see enough of.



I'm looking forward to it. If your life doesn't bring you much adventure sometimes, you have to make your own.

Plug chop

Well, not so much a chop as a quick whip-out-and-have-a-look.

After a couple of hours of whizzing round town and a leg-stretch on the A40, I got home and pulled the plugs to see how things were cooking in the Bonnie's insides. I was expecting a black, sooty mess. Instead, I got this:



It's a poor photo (iPhone camera), and it doesn't really show the colours properly, but the results were good. Both plugs were an even pale brown, one slightly darker than the other, on the insulators and the tips. No signs of overheating, fouling or over-richness. Pretty much what I would expect from an engine running the correct mixture and in the peak of health.

I am going to be on the road for most of tomorrow, so maybe I will get the chance to do a roadside plug chop to see what it's like at 3/4 and full throttle, but it looks as though those 140 main jets were in the right zone, at least.

Tuning the Bonnie

This week, I have been messing about with the Bonnie, trying to squeeze an extra couple of horsepower out of that unsophisticated engine. I know that when I got the Bonnie I said I wasn't interested in outright power, and that's still true. I'm having more fun with 61 bhp on the Bonnie than I did with 125 bhp on the Pan. But a couple of extra ponies wouldn't go amiss. Especially if they were virtually free of charge.

I read a bit of information that mentioned a restrictor plate inside the airbox, with the additional information that removing this would give a noticeable increase in performance for no penalty in fuel consumption or driveability. This seemed too good to be true, but for the sake of half an hour's work it had to be worth a try.

The inlet tract of the standard Bonnie is a pretty convoluted affair. There's a rubber intake snorkel, which has a 90° bend in it, and then the air goes through the paper air filter, through another 90° bend, then through 90° in two directions, through a plate with a small oblong hole in it, through another 45°, twice, and into a chamber which feeds the carbs. Removing the snorkel would straighten the path of the air considerably (straight path = less resistance to flow = more air) and removing the plate would allow the full measure of oxygen to pass directly to the carbs. The bike already has the Truimph "Off-Road" (TOR) silencers fitted by the previous owner, which are far less restrictive than standard, so this should match up inlet and exhaust and let the bike breathe better.

So I set to and removed the snorkel and then partially dismantled the airbox, and took the plate out. What I had failed to take into account was that more air needs more fuel to retain the proper air/fuel ratio, so when I tested the bike it ran like a dog, and not a very fast dog at that. In fact, truth be told, I had ruined a perfectly good motorbike. Not permanently - the plate slid out and could slide right back in if I so chose - but disappointing nonetheless. I needed a pair of bigger main jets.

My local dealer had some of the right size so, at a pound each, I took them. Of course, they were the wrong fitment and had to go back - Sod's Law. The ones he did have that would fit were slightly bigger than I needed, but at that price I thought I would give them a try anyway. (One point to watch - the standard jets are 110s, and when the TORs were fitted the jets should have been replaced with 115s, but what was in there were the standard jets. Take nothing for granted, even a dealer's word that the bike had been correctly jetted by his own mechanics.) I ended up with 140s. I had to take the carbs off to fit them, as getting to the jets was impossible any other way, but the effort was worth it. At first, the bike idled very badly but I took it for a test ride anyway. The bike went well, confirming that the problem was with the idle jets, not the mains. I must have got some dirt in one when I had the bowls off. Carbs back off, blow through the jets, and back together. And a test ride ...

Well, it's like someone had taken the engine out and given me a bigger one. It rides slowly just as well as before, but open it up and there is a huge surge forward that wasn't there before. I haven't tried it for maximum speed yet, but for the part of the power curve that makes riding enjoyable and easy (the mid-range, where you do most of your accelerating and is vital for easy overtakes) it is massively better.

Yee-har!

I need to fine-tune it, as I suspect that the jets are too big and the bike is running a bit rich now. A plug chop will tell me all I need to know. And I will need to check the fuel consumption as well. No point in having 10% more power if it's going to use 20% more fuel. As the modification is geared towards gaining more airflow and therefore greater efficiency, there should be no increase in fuel consumption, and people I have spoken to who have done this confirm that, but I need to see the numbers for myself.

So far, though, a big success.

The last thing was to make a little mesh screen to cover the air filter, now that the restrictive snorkel is no more. I made it out of a stainless steel Tesco kitchen sieve, and I think it looks quite good. Perhaps not 'factory', but tidy enough for me.



I'll report some results when I have them. I am doing a bit of a charity ride on Friday (see this post), so that will be at least 240 miles to check it out. I'm looking forward to that.

Next - new rear tyre. I'm down to the limit.

UPDATE:

Plug readings normal, fuel consumption unaffected. Thunderbirds are GO.