Well here we are again leaking pushrods. I have had more trouble with the pushrods on this last build than anything. I have been too busy jacking with them and life to even blog about the trials and tribulations. So here's the story. The cool stainless steel Big Jim's tubes leaked and leaked regardless of seals tried. I swapped the fatter aluminum solid pushrods for slimmer steel versions thinking it was the pushrods hitting the tubes. No real change. Daniel thought that the oil tank needed a vent to atmosphere. I tried that, but it didn't help. So I drug the bike back to Daniel in Bartlesville. He swapped the stainless tubes for stock style and everything seemed great. The stainless tube didn't quite center up correctly. Then I noticed that the vent was putting oil out onto the transmission top and clutch basket. So I thought the vent was no longer needed and plugged it with a brass pipe plug.
Well I guess it still has too much case pressure, because oil is coming out the pushrods again.
And oil was even around the brass pipe plug that was sealed with teflon tape. And yes the oil is only about half up in the oil tank.
There was controversy on were to align the breather gear mark when we used the degree wheel on it on two different occasions. I am going to move it from one tooth off to two teeth and see if that helps.
Anyway, I manage to get all the way to Durant before I had to stop for a beer. The 9th Street Bar is a nice little place.
2 o'clock on a Friday afternoon and some random dude was playing country covers for tips and beers. He was pretty decent. Poor guy lost his Harley when he went to rehab.
Back on the road.
Red River bridge to Texas.
Hay bales and countrysides.
Made it to camp. Panhead Fred and Jimbo beat me, and sadly no one had any beer.
Luckily, Pibb rolled in directly behind me.
Pibb saves the day with a trailer full of Bud diesels straight from St. Louis proper.
There were a lot wildflowers, but most weren't where I could get pictures very easily.
Jimbo's primary belt was slapping and he needed to fix it.
Texas Mark got to camp.
He brought his son Eli, too.
The usual suspects.
Beautiful views of lake and sky as always.
Trent and Jason got there about dark.
I have no idea what Pibb was looking for.
Shemp rolled in on Saturday and his bike wasn't quite right, so Mark got to work.
My wife did an excellent job of taking care of everyone at camp.
More chillin' from these two.
My boys did a little fishing and caught a few.
A hitch hiker on Pibb's trailer.
Everything was fine...
until the camera flashed and people got irritated.
Another SCfest in the books.
More on the singing cowboy in Durant, I was getting gas on my way back through on Sunday and I will be damned if the singer didn't show up at the quickie in a pick up truck and get on the trailer and start picking again. Unfortunately, I sent my camera home with my wife so I can't prove it.
This guy is the real American. The original. The hunter, the warrior, the rider, the traveler. Most of these politicians would have never made it livin' in their neighborhood. They were the Kiowa, Lakota, Sioux . . . about 200+ different factions. For thousands of years they lived off the land from Oklahoma, Texas, the Dakotas, Wyoming and all the way westward . . and looks like we'll have it fucked up in a mere 300 years?? I'm pretty sure they'll have the last laugh as the world will all be fighting with sticks and stones again . . . then we'll know what it's like to live the good life. Everything else is just "stuff."
It's just the way I see it.
Sitting Bull saw the future - and it happened as he said.
and I've had somewhat the same visions.
Here's to saving something worth saving for future generations.
650 miles home - riding your chopper with your dad following on his FLHTCU (a lot of letters, if I got all of 'em?) Pretty classic times over the last 20 some years. One last kick before pulling in my driveway.... I look pretty dapper, but I was glad to be home !