2009 Royal Enfield REunion

  Less than a week before time to leave for the 2009 Royal Enfield REunion in Lanesboro, MN by back goes south on me.  I can't walk without pain and I can look in the mirror and see myself listing 10 degrees to port.  Three physical therapy sessions later and the day before leaving I have serious doubts about riding the REB 700 miles in two days.

Thursday morning, June 18th, it's going to be a hot one and I'm already sweating underneath my helmet as I roll into the parking lot of the Baptist church to meet up with my three ROMEO traveling companions.  Pat is already waiting on his 900cc Vulcan and we are soon joined by Randy on a Suzuki Savage and Richard on his 500cc Aprillia Scarabeo motor scooter.  Richard is already almost 20 miles into the ride coming from Lindsborg, KS.  We're as eclectic a group of motorcyclists that ever hit the road but we're off.

As it turns out riding is good for my back and by the first gas stop I'm feeling pretty good.  Pat and Randy are on their first long ride and doing fine.  Richard is an old pro having three Iron Butts to his credit, I'm just praying my back holds out.  We soon settle into a rhythm, I'm

leading cause it's my ride.  Truth be told I'm leading cause I'm the slowest but it doesn't much matter as we will be mostly on two lanes where 55-60 mph is right in the REB's comfort zone.  100 miles, start looking for gas, 120 miles get serious about gas, the Savage has a small tank.  Rhythm of the road, not exactly Iron Butt stuff but it's our ride.

By Clarinda, IA the temperature has climbed to mid 90's at 3pm and it's time for a break.  I spot a McDonald's with some little trees next to the parking lot in the back and we take over all available shade.  As luck would have it there was a hydrant near so we could wet down and take a nice cool rest. 

A ways south of Carroll, IA we pull in for gas and I spot a familiar bike and rider.  My old Navy buddy George on his Concurs was to meet us in Carroll but decided to come looking.  He led us to our motel and waited while we secured the bikes and decided on a place to eat.  We all had a nice time at dinner,

looked over maps, told lies, swapped stories and made plans to rendezvous with George the next day as he was going to visit his mother.  Before turning in for the night we watched the weather, a chance of rain in the early morning hours.

The lightening flash lit up the room and the crash of thunder rattled the windows, a chance of rain indeed.  I didn't sleep after the light show started at 0430, our basement room window was level with the parking lot and Pat looked out to confirm that, yes, it was raining.  We both had left our tent and sleeping bags on our bikes and were hoping our water proofing held up.

More later.............It's later, June 30th, this isn't getting written too fast.  Yeah, it was wet Friday morning alright.  In fact we delayed out start time until 9:30 in hopes it would stop.  I was in contact with George and he was watching the weather maps so we were fairly confident that the light rain would pass quickly as we headed out for our rendezvous.  The strength of our water proofing would have to wait until we unpacked in Lanesboro.

We fought the slop and road spray until lunch time and it looked things were going to stay clear and dry for the rest of the ride.  Except for getting lost in Belmond, IA after lunch things went off without a hitch.  I suspect George was laughing at me as he peeled off to visit his Mom.  I never stay lost for too long and we gave some locals a parade to watch as we turned around at a dead end and got back on track. In retrospect this was a developing trend and I continued having trouble getting us out of towns.

CJ had a beer stuck in my hand almost before I could get off the bike, good old CJ always there with what a guy needs.  It was nice to greet several people that Richard and I had meet last year.  Randy and Pat seems impressed with the campground and they have both done lots of RV camping.

Everyone was on their own for supper so the Kansas guys made our way into town to find food.  Lanesboro is a tourist town with prices to prove it but we settled at the Pedal Pusher for their all you can eat fish fry, our kind of place.   It was Richard's kind of place too and the cute waitress couldn't keep her hands off of him.  We all knew that she was working him for a tip, but the free milkshake really got him fired up.  Probably the best tip she got all week.

Saturday morning got off to a good start because someone had the foresight to get the coffee pot ready to go Friday night.  Nothing like a hot cuppa while you are waiting on the pancakes to cook.  Saturday is the day we have a group ride and this year we were lucky enough to have one of our own to chronicle not only the ride but the whole day.  Dan, also known as Porkchop, posted his creation on youtube, you can see it here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JNgGhTiFInE.

 

Most of us never see another Royal Enfield let alone get to ride some so it is a rare opportunity when this large of a group gets together (I didn't count but there was at least 8 REs).  With the other brands along we were quite the mob as you can see at the start of the video.  While riding is great it is the camaraderie with like minded enthusiast and the other things that happen that one remembers.  Fer instance a motor scooter leading a gang of old looking bikes smack into the middle of a classic car show and stopping to inquire about a place for lunch then continuing along to the stares of the show goers. 

Back to the camp ground for a fine evening meal of brats and all the trimmings, with homemade cookies for dessert.  After dinner, Tim, CMW parts man extraordinaire, was in charge of handing out the swag.  Everyone had their name drawn and got some piece of CMW merchandise to carry home.

It is never as much fun loading up to leave and the light drizzle made it worse.  We all managed to re-pack everything but Randy appeared to be having trouble finding a place for  his new Royal Enfield coffee cup.  After much consternation he managed to stash it someplace.

We say our good byes and roll out of the camp ground around 8am for the nearly 700 miles back to Salina, KS.  CJ looks a little lonely as we ride by.  He isn't leaving until afternoon, something about catching the ferry at midnight. 

Other than some rain in the middle of Iowa the ride back is going well.  So well that on a quiet stretch of four lane on Hwy 30 in western Iowa I decided to open her up.  I had been doing around 60 according to the GPS so knew there wasn't much left but I saw 70.4 before I backed off.  I wonder if that little blast had anything to do with my oil covered boot later?

We spent the night in Fremont, NE and the next morning looked great but we could see a big storm rolling in from the southwest and spent sometime discussing the best route to take.  The consensus was to continue west on 30 and drop south on 81 to home.  Not the most interesting way to go but so non-interstate four lanes so trucks could get around the slow moving REB. 

We missed the rain but the heat really started to build up as the day progress and we traveled south.  I keep the throttle at about 60mph the little thumper never missed a beat until I shut her down at home at 3pm.  1535 miles total, nothing fell off, there is oil leaking in the right fork, either a seal or o-ring and the oil on my boot that I thought might be a blown head gasket appears to have come from the exhaust.  The muffler slipped back half an inch and I was getting some blow-by.  Guess there is a little oil in the exhaust.  At over 17,000 miles it is only a matter of time until a top end rebuild, but as long as she isn't fogging up the highway I'm going to keep riding.  Next trip, Rally of the River in Missouri in September.

 

 

 

REB Throttle Cable Inspection and Lubrication

In preparation for my ride to the REunion in Minnesota next week I am doing some routine maintenance on the REB and decided to take a few photos.  The last time I tried this I dropped my camera and smashed it to bits so have to be more careful with this job.  I just wanted to lube the cable and make sure it wasn't about ready to snap.  First step is to remove the tank.  Two bolts, pull the fuel line from the fuel tap and lift off the tank.  If the tank is about empty it's a lot lighter.  No photos of this.  This is a good time to look over all the wiring that runs under the tank and anything else that looks suspicious.

I already knew this rubber cap needed to be replaced and I had two spares on the shelf.  These things are notorious for rotting and splitting.  They sit right up against the bottom of the tank so they don't last long.  Now screw the throttle adjuster all the way in to get some slack in the cable.

 

 

 

With the cable slack unscrew the mixing chamber cap.  You should be able to do this without a tool.  Lift the cap off the carb body, the slide and spring will come out of the body.  Removing that little plate under the spring is the next task.

 

 

 

 

If you hold the whole thing just so with your thumb pushing the spring up and holding the throttle cable you can grab the little tab on the plate with a pair of needle nose pliers and lift it out.

 

 

 

Once that plate is out you just turn the slide away from the cable and it comes right off.  No I didn't take a picture, I only have two hands.  You will see a couple of screws under the plate, keep your tool off of them unless you want to adjust the height of the needle hanging out the bottom of the slide.  Take all the hardware and the old rubber cap off the cable and turn you attention to the twist grip up there on the handle bar.

Take the two screws holding the housing onto the handle bar out and carefully separate it to expose the throttle cable in the twist grip rotor assembly (hey that's what Royal Enfield calls it in the parts book).  Be careful cause there is electrical stuff in there.  Make sure you don't lose the ferrule at the end of the cable.  In fact it's a good idea to take it off and replace it with a dab of silicone stickem of some kind.  Enough to hold it in place and not interfere with the cable operation.  If the cable snaps and you loose the ferrule, you're screwed.

 

Examine this part carefully, most new Enfields break the throttle cable just below that barrel shaped thing cause it binds in the plastic housing on the twist grip.  If yours is binding work it over with a razor knife or dremel until it works smoothly.  The barrel needs to rotate in the housing.  I put some light grease in there to help things along.

 

 

 

 

Remember that rubber cap down there on top of the carb?  Well it's a good idea to take a good look at it before putting it on.  Here is my brand new, just out of the plastic bag, rubber cap.  Of course I didn't notice it until I was ready to drop the slide back into the carb body and I had to take the damn thing apart again.  Good thing I had another one that was better.

That's about it, drop the slide back into the carb body, screw the mixing chamber cap all the way down, hand tight only.  Adjust the cable to about an 1/8 inch of slack at the twist grip.  Make sure nothing is binding and put the tank back on.

You will want to take a test ride to make sure the throttle cable is binding up anyplace.  What's that, you smell gas?  You fergot to re-attach the fuel line dumb ass!  Scooter won't start, got no fire, check the big red kill switch on top of the throttle housing.

Just noticed that the wording in the photos is too small....squint, I'm tired.

Lindsborg, KS 11-07-07

After braving the gusty south winds on the short ride from Salina Randy, Neil, Marty and I (4 bikes 5 cylinders) entered Little Darlings only to find all the table being used.  Not to worry by the time we placed our order a table had freed up and took our place with the early arrivals.  All total there were around 17, some drove their trucks, one even walked in.  Richard and Joyce had the shortrider mileage at 1.7 miles and that included Richard getting lost once.

Little Darlings is a newly opened place that is trying to revive the buildings original drugstore look and menu.  The hamburger was terrific and they also have hot dogs, chili and some other things I don't remember.  The fountain drinks are unique in this day and age.  I topped off my hamburger with a real chocolate malt. 

We visited for awhile and took Burma road back to Salina.  The REB rode much nicer with the 30mph wind and it was a joy to hear the thump of the small single of the group.

Lindsborg, KS 11-07-07

Lunch at Little Darling's

Royal Enfield Motorcycles

http://www.enfieldmotorcycles.com/
The Official home of Royal Enfield in the USA. Anything you would want for a Royal Enfield and many other classic motorcycles. Nice folks to deal with.

One Kick February 05, 2007

Finally a little break in the weather and the temperature is up to 39 degrees to go along with the sunshine. I hadn't ridden the REB since Dec 18th so I was anxious to see how hard it would be to start. Kicked it over several time to get the oil stirred up then turned on the gas, three more kicks with the compressor, bring it to TDC and just a little more, enrichner on, just a wee bit of throttle, nice smooth stroke and Thumpa, thumpa....one kick, just like it should be. Not bad after sitting for a month and a half.

Rode around the airport industrial area for a few miles before going over to my buddy Don's to work on a piece of furniture I'm refinishing. He has a nice heated shop and let's me use all his tools and materials, good deal for me. He builds clocks shaped like the one above with a variety of pictures and sports logos, what ever a person wants.

With a little luck I'll get the Dubya out for a spin tomorrow.

Entry for December 15, 2006

Picture: Me and the bar maid, nice friendly little beer joint with good hamburgers.

I'm falling behind on my blogging. Last Wednesday, the 13th, six of us ROMEOs went on a short lunch ride to Tescott, KS. While the "official" ride had been canceled due to a lousy weather forecast, by the time Wednesday rolled around the forecast had improved considerably. In fact it turned out to be a gorgeous day. After lunch at the Somewhere Bar and Grill returned to Salina for a tour of the motorcycle dealerships, all three of them. It's fun to BS with the salesmen and look at the bikes. They don't even mind if you sit on them but no one offered any test rides.

Entry for December 11, 2006

Picture: Alexander reaches for Santa (Dad).

The weather lately hasn't been conducive to motorcycling. I did manage to get the fluids changed in the REB last Tuesday. I changed the engine oil to 10-40 for the winter. Richard popped by on his scooter as I was doing all this high tech Enfield fluid changing. It was nice to have another hand when I drained the primary so I didn't get ATF all over the driveway. Everything looked bright and shinny in there BTW. The magnetic drain plugs collected a fair about of slug but I didn't see any thing that looked like metal. Maybe it was ground up too fine to recognize.

No new motorcycle pictures so here is another Christmas picture of Alexander. The girls will be home in less than too weeks and we are really looking forward to their visit.

Entry for December 05, 2006

Picture: The latest cover of Riding South magazine

Yesterday was one of those rare Kansas days..... no wind. I could hardly believe it but by the time I got back from running a few errands (in the truck) my coat was off and the temperature was pushing 50 degrees.

What to do, what to do? Oh yeah, the Dubya is sitting in the garage still filthy from last weeks early morning ride in the slop. First order of business is to clean the Dubya. Not clean, clean, mind you but riding clean, there is a difference. As it turned out the ride was OK but still a little cool so I just did a 20 mile lap of the city and called it a day. Today is calling for 55 degrees by mid-afternoon and it is the REB's turn to be ridden. If things work out I'll get it warmed up good and change the oil when I get home.

My Riding South magazine was in the mail yesterday and it was a particularly interesting issue. One column I liked was written by a 79 year old motorcyclist that lives in Arkansas. It is reprinted by permission of the author and publisher.

Riding South is a neat little newspaper magazine that focuses on The South but has general interest articles as well. It is distributed free of charge through motorcycle shops in it's area or is only $12 a year by mail. The publisher/editor/paperboy, Robert Shearon, is a real biker in that he hardly ever drives but relies on two wheels.

Contact Robert at: 1220 Jameson Ave

Benton, AR 72015

Ph: 501-860-8884

E-mail: robertshearon@sbcglobalnospam.net (leave out the nospam)

 

Why I Ride By Ralph Landon
My friends often ask why I ride a motorcycle at my age. some are genuinely curious but most are somehow offended at what I am doing.
The say things like do you want flowers or should we just contribute to your favorite charity?
In dark moments I could smell the flowers and cars would suddenly appear in my path.
But life is not to explain after all, at least the important parts. You enter it alone, leave it alone, and people just make foggy guesses about your purpose.
Yet after years of riding I know some of its purposes - for me.
The first purpose is to have something waiting for me, one of those things men need in some other part of the house, yard or town that they can escape to. I have tried many things! Cars, guns, cameras, and even airplanes, but none have been so satisfying as my motorcycle.
Cars tend to bore me with their commonness, and the problem with cameras is that they depend on the whims of the spirits - you have to need to take a picture to want to take it. Guns have a nasty side to them, and once you lose the urge or even the capacity to kill things they sit in cabinets emasculated of their essential purpose.
Airplanes are fine for certain times in life but you buy imperatives with airplanes - you have to stay sharp and remain current to maintain your license. Airplanes remind me of my limitations.
The nice thing about having a motorcycle waiting for you is that it does not require you to do anything with it. Sometimes it is enough just to check the battery or ponder the likelihood that you could overhaul the engine if you really applied yourself. A motorcycle represents endless possibilities, among them just sitting with a can of chrome polish in your hands looking for rust. Sometimes my wife would say, I thought you were going for a ride, is something wrong? and I would say, No, I'm looking for rust.  A person can always depend on rust.
The second purpose relates to that intangible thing we call freedom. When I first learned that motorcycles are called freedom machines I thought that had something to do with speed, far places and raunchy company - beer, broads, and a cloud of smoke.
That is not what freedom means to me! What happens with age is that you are expected to grow predictable, and once you do, more and more people step forth to manage your life. It becomes known that you are around weekends, so you get invited to places you don't want to go. And you're around to fix faucets, faucets that you would just as soon let drip. The freedom my machine gives me is very easy to describe: It is the license to be accountable to no one.
The third purpose concerns place. For me there is a dramatic difference between being away and being gone. I love to be away, but am gone only when I have to be. The motorcycle better than anything else has taught me to understand where my psychological borders are - the Greenbriar River in West Virginia, a little country store, a diner in a small town.
For me the beauty of a motorcycle is not in the going, but in the stopping. The most important device on my bike is the kick stand and I use it with abandon. There is no sound like the silence of a killed engine when geese are flying overhead. The roar of the engine is music to the ears of some riders - I prefer the cooling tick of a resting bike. I have gotten somewhere - away, not gone, and for the first time I have truly been there. I have discovered a few new places on my motorcycle but they are of small significance compared to what I have discovered about familiar places. It's not that you uncover a lot of surprises in the hills of West Virginia, it's just that you meet yourself going back and back again.
Motorcycling has given me a new respect for inconclusiveness, cameras end up in photographs, guns in trophies and airplanes in personal achievements. I don't know where I'll be going with my machine when I next decide to ride. Maybe I'll go somewhere tomorrow and maybe I'll wait til next week. It will be there waiting for me whatever I decide, picking up rust along the way and I will be free to decide when I want to get unpredictable again. Then the word will be out that I'm gone again, but I'll know I'm merely away, visiting places I have been before and thinking it's not all that bad being a senior citizen.
Editor's Note: Landon, of Hot Springs Village, is 80.

 

Entry for November 25, 2006

I had an interesting motorcycling experience this afternoon. An acquaintance of mine owns a 1973 Triumph 750 (One carb, what does that make it?). I see the Steve at church and we had talked about it several times but I had never seen it. He told me last week that he was putting it on Ebay because it is too difficult for him to start since his knee replacement. I volunteered to start it for him once he got his newly painted tank back on. Today was the day so I rode the REB over to his house.

Nice looking bike, just 15k on the clock, nothing dinged or anything. Just a good looking original bike. Now I have never started a 750 Triumph but how hard could it be? Turned on the petcocks (why do you need two petcocks for one carb?) tickled the Amal until gas ran out, kicked it over three times with the key off then key on and bingo. Well not quite, I kicked it about four time and got no joy so I had him pull a plug out to see if there was spark and there was. Steve suggested dropping a little gas into the cylinder to prime a bit. It fired up first kick after priming, died once, started back up and ran fine. Sounded sweet. I rode it around the block just for the experience. Only tried to stop with the gear shift once.

We decided to take a little ride so off we went on a circuit around Salina and the old girl never missed a beat. We stopped by home so I could show him Dubya and he was rightly impressed. As he rode away it occurred to me that I should have taken a picture. Sure hope he gets a good price on Ebay, it will make someone a nice ride or would be a great restoration.