This thing was pretty farted up. On the verge of self-destruction sums it up about right . . . My dad worked really hard on it the last month. Now it's solid - and when the gasses mix with the correct amount of oxygen - it should provide years of enjoyment powering around this great heart of American back roads. 1936 - A year in motorcycle engine production for Harley-Davidson that changed things for H-D, and all manufacturers - from that year onward.
This is a good spot to regroup, look at the map - and hope your bike starts - it did !
Pulpit Rock Brewing ain't bad . . . I sat outside and got stung my a bee. My arm is all swelled to shit, and I just got the stinger dug out (after 18 hours) I didn't see it at first - but now it's almost tool late.
This DC11 Linkert works great. It likes it best when the rpms are kept up, so when you see a hill coming - keep it pegged and in the upper power band - no problems. My starting issue didn't come around on this run. 1 to 2 kicks max . . .
A stop near Bassett, Iowa to adjust my backpack . . . riding so fast, it got all shifted and kilter. Low beam burnt on this trip - and back home I noticed no tail light or brake light. This thing only has a 3 wires - so I should be able to figure it out. Thanks to Shane Einck for the refeshments. T-Bocks in Decorah has great grilled chesse sandwiches ! The Sugar Bowl wins for ice cream !
The battery had 11.8 volts. The water was low. Front tire had 11 lbs., rear had 14 lbs. Oil was black, primary oil a bit milky. Dead bugs on the windshield and the carb stained with old sticky dry gasoline. I wiped it off, did a bit of maintenance - it fired after about 10 kicks - and I rode it 12 miles on the superslab to Nashua, Iowa for a birthday party. I hadn't ridden it for over a year really. It felt small - rev'd high, wiggly - and a couple times I reached to my lower left, feeling for the jockey shift ball. Rusty at best.
On the return trip home, in the dark, with lightning strikes to the west, I headed west back home. Up to speed on the on-ramp to 65+mph....I hit the high beam and it went dark. Shit, high beam burnt out, back to low beam (which was pretty much shining on the ground). I'd wait for speeding traffic to catch up - then pick it up to 75+mph to run with them and use their headlight, then as they'd get away, back down to 60-65mph - completely overdriving my headlight distance. The headlight was too tight to move it as I reached up to mess with it at speed. Only 8 miles to go anyway.
I made it to my driveway, just as I could now hear thunder - no rain yet. I even got Cheryl to walk with me down to a high bridge on the river to watch Mother Nature's rapidly approaching light show. As I wheeled this thing into the garage, I really felt pumped up after riding this thing again. I miss it. This motorcycle has taken me so many places over the years, and always gets me there and back. It's been with me on so many adventures, and these early Sportsters are really awesome touring machines for the 2000 mile or less trips - which is about what I run anyway. I'm currently in preparation for a traditional Labor Day Run as always . . . and just decided - the '64 is goin' this year. Again.