Passes & Canyons Blog

Joel, my mechanic, came by and checked out the V-Strom, then went and got his volt meter out of the truck. The battery was gone.

I had intended to look at my records and see when I last replaced the battery but had not done so. I looked then and found out that amazingly, this was the battery that came with the bike when I bought it in 2014. Wow.

So the charge I thought I gave it was of no use. There was enough to turn on the lights and try to turn the starter but with the reading Joel got he was surprised it could even do that.

A couple days later I got out and bought a new battery and once I got it installed (more about that in a moment) I turned the key and pushed the starter button . . . and it didn’t want to start. At first. Then it did. OK, that’s good.

Our road was still covered in ice so I couldn’t take it for a ride but on Wednesday things were clear and I figured I’d head out. I pushed the starter and it didn’t want to start. And then it did. This is not instilling me with confidence.

I was cautious about getting far from home but as I rode it and it continued to run, and in fact to run better, I did eventually take it out for a real spin. And when I got home I turned it off, opened the garage, moved Judy’s car, and then started it again to ride it in. This time it fired right up. So at this point I’m just going to keep a wary eye on it.

Besides that, while it had previously seemed like there was a fuel line leak or something, the paper I had underneath it showed no sign of a drip. Joel had checked what was on the floor of the garage and said it appeared to be coolant, not oil or gas. All in all he told me to put in a new battery and then let him know how it did and whether other problems persisted. We’ll see how that goes.

As for putting in the new battery, what a pain. Taking the old one out had been easy, just back out the bolts and lift it out. Why couldn’t putting a new one in be so simple.

The first problem was that the cable ends that connect to the battery were form-fitted to nest over the posts, but the new battery had larger posts and no nesting was going to happen. If I could have reached the vise with the cables I would have flattened them out but that was not possible, so I took pliers and bent them enough to get the metal in contact.

Next, the bolts were not long enough to reach down and thread into the nuts. I had some longer bolts but when I tried using them they were too long and I couldn’t get them tight. So I tore off some stiff paper and stuck that in the space below the bolts, to elevate the bolts, and finally was able to thread the bolts into the nuts and tighten them up. What a pain, but I’ve had to do that before so it didn’t require any new creativity.

So the V-Strom is running again. But now I’m going to be nervous every time I ride it for awhile until it proves itself trustworthy again. And what the heck is the deal with this leak and the fuel?

Biker Quote for Today

The keys to success: Waking up in the morning. Going to bed at night. Riding a motorcycle in between.

Somebody clue me in here if you know something I don’t.

I went riding with the RMMRC Tuesday, the standard ride out to Kiowa to Patty Ann’s. Bob was leading, which is something he has done many times.

So we headed out Parker Road, which is about six lanes. We were in the left lane. Bob was in the lead, Kim was on her Spyder, Val came next on her KTM, and I was behind her.

We always ride in staggered formation and in my experience and understanding, the leader should take the left position and everyone following staggers, although with the Spyder you sometimes see those take the center, so whoever is behind them gets to choose either side.

So Bob settled in the right hand position. Huh? Kim did stagger to the left on her Spyder so Val was right and I was left. That was fine, but why was Bob to the right? Is there some protocol that on a multi-lane highway the leader takes the position where they can see clearly in the adjacent lane? Or something else like that that I’m not aware of?

Once we got onto the two-lane Bob took the spot on the left, and Kim shifted and the rest of us did, too. So what the heck was he doing on the right previously? Yes, of course–I should just ask him. I’m just hesitant to appear to be criticizing someone and there wasn’t any time he and I were alone together. Maybe I’ll have the chance some other time.

On another subject, my V-Strom crapped out on me that day. I was going to ride it and I geared up and rolled it out and it would not start. It ran fine the last time I rode it a couple weeks ago.

But it appeared to be completely out of gas. Completely. How does that happen, except if you have a leak. And there was a new drip spot on the garage floor underneath it, though not particularly big. Anyway, the engine would turn over briefly but it would not catch and then it would quit turning over.

I had just a little gas in a can and I put that in but that didn’t help. The way it would try and then die I thought maybe the battery was failing so I put it on a charge and the next day I got more gas. I put that in and then with plenty of gas and good charge I tried again. The very same things happened. Wow, now I really have no idea what the matter is, although whatever else it may be it does seem I have a gas leak.

I put some paper under the bike to catch the drip and see how much it really is dripping and I called Joel, my mechanic. I’ve been keeping Joel busy. I have three bikes and this is the third one I have turned over to him in the last six months. We’ll see. I’ll let you know.

Biker Quote for Today

Hobby is when you buy a new bike. Passion is when you keep the old one running.

December 24 was very warm and the ice had finally melted off our street so I wanted to take the Kawi for a spin. I geared up, rolled the bike out and started it, and when it was warmed up I got on and headed out.

I got about 10 feet out of our driveway. Then the engine died. I started it again and tried to move forward and it died again. I tried a number of times. Finally I rolled it backward to where I could go forward into the driveway, revved it up, and managed to get right back where I had started from a few minutes earlier. What the heck is the matter?

I’ve been riding this bike for 21 years now and I’ve got experience with it. This seemed similar to something I had encountered a long time ago. You have to understand the Reserve lever on this bike. It has three positions: On, Reserve, and Prime. Normally you run on On, flip to Reserve when necessary, and I have never really known what you would use Prime for. But I know what happens if you move that lever to Prime. It drips gas into the cylinder and if the bike is not running it will continue to drip and that gas will seep past the valves into the oil pan. Motorcycles do not run well when you have gas mixed with the oil.

Yes I know that from experience. And this seemed to be acting very much the same way it did when I inadvertently left the lever in the Prime position. So how to confirm this diagnosis? Change the oil. That’s a major pain on this bike because you have to remove some of the bodywork to do it. Guess how I spent a big chunk of my day on December 24.

Of course it wasn’t all that straightforward. Things have to go wrong, don’t they.

I had wondered since I had the bike in for a tune-up whether my mechanic had put too much oil in. Looking at the sight glass all I had ever been able to see was black. The Concours is supposed to take a little less than one gallon of oil so I knew if what I drained out was too much to fit into a gallon jug that there was an issue. But that could happen either from over-filling or gas dripping in with the oil. Not sure which it was but I definitely couldn’t get it all into a one-gallon jug. And once it was drained I could see into the sight glass–it was no longer just black.

So I put new oil in, checking repeatedly as I poured to see when the sight glass showed it was enough. But I must not have looked soon enough; it always looked the same and I kept pouring oil in. When I concluded this had to be too much I looked hard at the sight glass and concluded that it was full of clear, clean oil. I had put too much in.

I needed to drain some out, but I didn’t want to drain it all and I didn’t have anything clean of the right size to catch it all. So I got a glass jar and tried to drain some into the jar without spilling a whole bunch. I was not successful. It didn’t all pour out but I had really big mess on my hands. Things have to go wrong, don’t they?

At this point I was sure I had drained enough but the sight glass still showed full. So I started the bike and ran it for about 30 seconds and then let it settle. Hallelujah, it was right where it needed to be, and I could clearly see the oil level.

Then I cleaned up this entire mess. Finally I started the bike. It started and ran beautifully. I got on and eased out of the driveway. It ran beautifully. I went just around the block and it ran great so I parked it. That’s all the riding I did that day.

So I guess I must have screwed up. I knew the bike was nearing Reserve last time I rode it so I must have turned that lever the wrong way. And while I already knew what happens when you do that, I’ve just had my memory refreshed.

Biker Quote for Today

You know you’re a biker if you have a heater in your garage so you can work on your bike(s) when it’s cold.

I knew I was running low on gas the morning I set out with the RMMRC on a ride over Guanella Pass. That was not a problem. We planned to gas up in Morrison and I was on the Honda, and had not yet gone to Reserve. I had plenty of gas to get that far, although I fully expected to need to switch to Reserve before I got there.

As expected, about the time we crossed Broadway on Belleview the bike sputtered a bit and I turned the petcock. But it didn’t seem to make any difference. I struggled along maybe another mile and then the bike just died.

The first thing I did was to remove the gas cap and look inside. There was definitely still gas in there, though not a whole lot. I checked the petcock position and, as expected, it was on Reserve. It wouldn’t start in that position so I moved it back to On. It still wouldn’t start. Back to Reserve and still no dice.

Roy and Charley had come back to check on me and Roy had me try a few things. No dice. Roy, however, is one of those totally prepared guys and he pulled out a bottle that he carries all the time, containing half a gallon of gas. I poured it in, tried the starter a few times, and sure enough it finally fired up and kept running.

OK, what’s the deal here? They told me to go ahead and they would ride behind me just to be sure.

On my way out to Morrison I wondered about it. Had I only partially filled the tank last time I got gas? This bike usually needs to go to Reserve at about 180 miles and it had done so this time at 185. I have run out before when I have forgotten to move the petcock back to On, and if I had not filled it all the way it could have run dry at 185. But it definitely was not already on Reserve. ???

So at Morrison I filled the tank and guess what: This tank holds 5-1/2 gallons. Roy had given me half a gallon and then we had ridden about 10-15 miles. The tank reached full after only 4.07 gallons. That math does not add up.

I filled the tank there at Morrison and then we rode a bit more than 100 additional miles that day and all went just fine. But now I need to figure out what the situation is. It appears to be a blockage of some kind in the fuel line but how to confirm this?

I figure the first thing to do is simply to switch to Reserve with plenty of gas in the tank and see if it runs. That way I know I won’t be stranded out somewhere because I can just flip back to On. But what if that doesn’t do it?

I have wondered for a long time about how the Reserve setting functions physically. The tank straddles the frame so does one side (Reserve) stay full as the other side empties? With intakes on both sides? Or, I have wondered, is it all one feed with an intake at one elevation, with flipping the petcock simply lowering the intake?

OK, so I got answers. There are two intakes, side by side, at different levels. So even if I switch to Reserve, if there is enough gas in the tank it is going to be fed via the primary intake.

While I tend to have a mechanical aptitude, I’m not this much of a motorcycle mechanic, so this means it is time to call Joel, my mechanic.

Biker Quote for Today

Top 10 signs that a computer is owned by a Harley rider: 05. — The mouse is referred to as “the rat.”

As I explained in my last post, my Concours needed some brake work. Dealers generally don’t like working on older bikes but I decided to ask Vickery for some assistance. Here’s what happened.

I explained to the guy at the service desk that I had bought the bike from them but they had fired me as a customer 10 years ago. Now I was just asking their assistance in getting a screw out of the plate covering the brake fluid reservoir. Could they at least do that for me? While I was making this appeal, a second guy stood and observed. This other guy turned out to be Randy, the service manager. He came out to look at the bike and called out an older mechanic, presumably because this guy had experience working on this older bike.

They assessed the situation and said they could try bleeding the brakes for me and would drill out the bad screw. They also said the front brake pads were nearly shot and should be replaced, which they would be happy to do.

I was surprised they would take the bike in but happily called Judy to come get me.

Shortly before closing time that day they called to say the bike was ready to be picked up. I said thanks, I’ll come by tomorrow.

The next morning I went over and Randy pulled out his phone to show me a photo he had taken. They had removed the plate from the reservoir and the photo showed a whole bunch of sludge that had formed over many years and which was blocking the ports on the reservoir, thus the bad brake performance.

The sludge had been cleaned out and the brake lines flushed, plus new brake pads had been put on. The brakes were working great again. I was good to go.

I told Randy I truly appreciated their working on my bike, and that they had fired me as a customer long ago, and yet they had done this work. Randy explained that the big problem for them is that at times people bring machines in for work and the mechanics find much bigger problems, such that the owners then decide they don’t want to spend the money and they abandon the vehicle without paying for the work already done.

The key, he explained, for them to agree to do simple maintenance work on an older bike such as mine, was to bring the bike in and let them look it over. If the bike is sound and if it’s just simple maintenance they will do the work, IF. The big if. If they have a mechanic–like that grey-haired guy–with experience with the older bike. Their younger mechanics have never worked on, say, a 1999 Kawasaki Concours, and they are reluctant to have one of them touch it. But if they have the guy, they’ll work on the bike.

I also got the impression that it is Randy who would need to look at the bike and make the decision, not the guy behind the counter. Those guys, it seems, are pretty much told to say no to any such request.

So I was thrilled. The Connie is long overdue for a basic tune-up and while that would be something Joel could do I’d much rather just drop the bike at Vickery. Thank you Randy, you haven’t seen the last of me.

Biker Quote for Today

You know you’re a biker if you see no use in going to a bar without bikes in front.

The front brakes on my 1999 Concours were squishy and the brake fluid level seemed low. I could add fluid but if it got low again that would indicate a fuel-line leak. That’s beyond my ability to deal with.

Normally I would just have taken the bike over to Joel at Mountain Thunder Motorsports but these are not normal times for Joel. His landlord had raised his rent a huge amount and rather than pay it Joel had closed up shop and is now working out of his home. Unfortunately, his home is somewhere up in the hills. If he’s going to work on my bike it will mean he drives down with a trailer, loads it up, drives home and works on it, then drives it back down. That’s a lot of effort for what might just be low brake fluid.

So I called Vickery, where I bought the bike new in 1999. I used to take it to Vickery for service but about 10 years ago they fired me as a customer because dealerships don’t like to work on older bikes. That’s how I ended up working with Joel. I had also been fired as a customer by Aurora Honda some years before that with my CB750, for the same reason.

It seemed to me that Vickery ought to be willing to just do some simple maintenance, even on an older bike. No harm in asking.

I called the service department and explained the situation and asked if they would be willing to at least do this simple job. The answer was no. I then asked what sort of brake fluid the bike would use, because I have read many times how you should not mix different types of brake fluids. I figured I could at least top it off myself and then if it got low again that would mean a bigger problem and I could call Joel.

The guy at the service counter told me what fluid it needed and I went over to Vickery to buy some. Back at home I tried to remove the top plate on the reservoir but for the life of me I could not get one of the screws out. The other came out easily but all the bad one did was start stripping. Now what do I do?

It was a nice day and I was determined to ride the Kawi that day so I geared up and headed out, with no destination in mind. Before I got out of the neighborhood I decided to ride to Vickery. At the very least perhaps they would help me get that screw out. Refusing that, I felt, would be terrible customer relations, but I wasn’t especially optimistic. If they wouldn’t even do that for me, I had located an independent shop over near where Joel used to be and I figured I could drop by there and see if they would help me.

What happened then is interesting and I’ll fill you in on Thursday.

Biker Quote for Today

Why bikes are better than women: Motorcycles only need their fluids changed every 2,000 miles.

“We’ve got a diesel truck running out there.”

Those are not the words you generally want to hear about your motorcycle. Dennis was ecstatic.

We’ll start at the beginning.

We stopped for gas in Livingston, Montana, at a big station where the pumps in front were all busy. So we went around back and filled up. Then we headed west on I-90, destination Missoula. But right from the start Dennis could tell the big Indian wasn’t running properly. Bill, just behind Dennis, smelled something that puzzled him.

After about 60 miles Dennis decided to pull off at another station. He figured he had gotten some bad gas and that adding some good gas would dilute the bad. But after he filled the tank the bike would not start at all. It wouldn’t even turn over.

Maybe that bad gas had fouled the plugs. He didn’t have the tools to pull the plugs so Bill gave him a ride to the nearest town where he bought tools. Pulling the first plug it looked just fine. Now he was truly stumped.

Checking online Dennis found that the nearest Indian dealer was in Idaho Falls, about 235 miles away. The towing company he reached said that would cost $900. A U-Haul truck, 25 miles away, would cost $260, plus he would have to buy tie-downs. A no-brainer. Bill took him to Whitehall to get the truck and we returned to the station that was now becoming a second home to us.

Now, how do you roll a non-running 800-pound motorcycle up a steep ramp into a truck? When we first got to this station there were several burly young guys around who we sorely needed. None now. We finally recruited a couple older guys who seemed kind of iffy but you take what you can get. Miraculously we were successful. Tie it down securely and off we go.

The dealership was closed by the time we got there and there were supposedly zero motel rooms available in town. Dang. However, luck was with us and we found one small, older place that had a room for us. Big sigh.

Dennis was over to the dealership before they opened in the morning and immediately got the bike checked in for work. Then we walked a few blocks for breakfast. Returning after breakfast, Dennis asked at the counter about his bike. “The dead one?” the guy asked. He turned and carried over that vial you see in the picture. It had come out of Dennis’s tank and it was red diesel. How the heck did that happen? Was the gas station accidentally dispensing diesel from a gas pump, wreaking havoc with who knows how many vehicles?

More importantly (for Dennis) was what damage might have been done. Worst case scenario is that the pistons might have seized up. Nothing to do but clean it out and see if the bike will run. This will take an hour or two.

Meanwhile Dennis pulled out his gas receipt and it said right there, “red diesel.” He was the one who made a mistake. How?

Looking at the pumps he had seen a couple with green handles and he knew that was diesel. The other handle was red. Now here’s the thing: in Colorado for the most part, red is the color for gasoline. But in the more rural areas in a place like Montana, green means regular diesel, red means red diesel, and black is the color for gas. When I filled my tank I looked at the labels on the pump. Dennis only looked at the color of the handles.

So by the way, what the heck is red diesel? Red diesel is for farm implements and construction equipment that does not use the highways. Because they don’t use the highways they are exempted from the taxes that pay for the highways. Regular diesel has a red dye added. If your semi is stopped and they find red diesel in your tank you are in trouble.

With the dire possibilities in that worst case scenario you can now see why, when the mechanic came out and said, “We’ve got a diesel truck running out there,” that Dennis was ecstatic. His motor was not destroyed, and it was running so we could actually get back on the road.

Be aware, they told him, it may smoke for awhile.

Biker Quote for Today

Why Motorcycles are Better than Men: If your motorcycle smokes, you can do something about it.

Forty miles out of town and there’s some green fluid dripping. Oh, no! There’s no mistaking coolant, and on a day with temperatures in the 90s this could be seriously bad.

I had been up to Loveland to demo ride some BMW motorcycles, one of which, the R1200RT, I loved. Now headed home to Denver I stopped in Berthoud to visit their museum and see the current exhibit on Floyd Clymer, the renowned racer and publisher of motorcycle repair manuals. Floyd was a local boy who made good. Ready to leave, I was getting back on the bike, my ’99 Kawasaki Concours.

I’d caught just a whiff of the coolant earlier but didn’t think anything of it. I figured somebody else must be leaking fluid; it never occurred to me that it might be coming from my bike. Now that steady drip, drip, drip had my total attention.

What to do? Did I dare to ride it? And how could my Kawi be giving me trouble? It’s the bike that had always been 100 percent reliable, unlike my 38-year-old Honda that knows it’s 38 years old.

I decided to chance it, with my eye glued to the temperature gauge and ready to shut it off immediately if the needle started to enter the danger zone. With luck, running the bike at highway speeds would keep everything cool and the drip would abate. But if I got into the heart of Denver and hit a traffic jam there could be trouble. I’d have to play it by ear.

I pulled away and headed down the road and everything was fine. The needle stayed well on the cool side. I stayed in the right-hand lane, took it easy, and checked the gauge about every 30 seconds all the way to Denver. Coming through downtown on the highway the traffic flowed smoothly and things looked good.

Santa Fe Drive would be the next hazard. It’s a major road with only a few stoplights, but could I get through them all on the green? And what would that needle do if I did get stopped?

One by one I made it until I reached the last light I had to go through. It turned red. It seemed like it was red for a long time. And the needle started climbing. And climbing. “Oh, please let me just get to Joel’s shop. I’m only two miles away now.”

Finally the green and I was moving again. The needle didn’t drop but at least it stopped climbing. Joel was out front as I pulled in, turned the key, and got off.

“Joel, I’ve got a problem!”

No need for a big explanation; the drip told the whole story. A problem with an O-ring, Joel told me. He’d have it fixed that day, and once again I got lucky. In four days I was headed for Sturgis on that bike. If that O-ring had failed four days later . . .

Biker Quote for Today

Live life to the fullest. Forget drama, depression, and all that kinda crap. Be a happy person now!! Go for a ride!!!