atomsplitter
Living Legend
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2007
- Messages
- 2,773
- Location
- Keller, TX
- Ride
- 17 T-120 Black, 20 Bobber Black, 98 Trophy 1200
Flea-Bay And The Land of Oz
By Atomsplitter
I live in Kansas and by definition since L. Frank Baum immortalized this state in his children’s book series it has been known as Oz. New Mexico’s license tags reading “Land of Ahs” notwithstanding, Kansas is the original OZ. In fact the town of Wamego, KS has the Oz Museum. (I’ve even purchased products from Oz Cycle Salvage (ozpowersports.com) in Ottawa, Kansas). So there should be no mistake as to where Oz resides.
A few years back I was fiddling a 1972 Yamaha XS 650 XS2 back to life with the intention of making a huge profit when it was done. My intention versus reality is defined by the actual sales experience (and usually starts my pocketbook pains). For me the delta between “moderate” profit and “huge” isn’t the yawning chasm that most people might assume. If, say, I made $10.00 over cost that would be a “moderate” profit. If I made a whopping $25.00 over my cost then that would be “huge,” (some may consider that more a whipping, but they don’t live in Kansas). Some might think doubling or tripling an investment’s cost is “moderate” but then they have absolutely no idea what the value of a 1972 Japanese bike is to the average consumer on the open market. Knowing what I paid for it and how much I was sinking into it made the potential profit margin recede like the tide in the Bay of Fundy, (you can’t even see the ocean from there). So in essence I was hoping it would sell for something more than I had wrapped up in it (thus a “huge” profit). If it sold for less than what I had in it, well I term that a ‘don’t tell the wife.’
I had purchased this particular unit from a co-worker that had fallen on hard times (getting divorced) and he was hoping to keep a little dignity (thereby demanding cash). He had included a box of parts in the deal that he had gathered to fix the old scoot himself but had not actually mustered the courage to tackle the project. Diving into ancient Japanese bikes requires the fortitude not dissimilar to that displayed by the British cavalry during the Charge of the Light Brigade.
Into the valley of poverty rode the delusional.
Forward the Bike Remade
Was there profit to be made?
Not a ‘Tuner’ that he knew
After his whole wad that he blew
So as he has blundered on
His nest egg ripped and fully gone
Into the Valley of Bankruptcy he rode
Oblivious to reason or logic he strode.
During my initial reconnoiter of the bike I had noted some issues not previously tackled during other repair old bike reclamation jobs. My major concern was with the wiring harness since my last XS 650 burned its harness to a crisp while riding home one night at 2AM. That was back in 1976 and that bike was a 1974 model. It took 6 months to get a replacement harness from Japan. If the harness on this bike was bad I was pretty sure getting a replacement would take a smidgeon longer than 6 months (more likely to be measured in decades). The wiring checked out fine but while tracing wires on the under side of the rear fender I noticed the wheel moved left to right when I bumped it. Odd, on most bikes the wheel rotates but has no left-right movement at all. This was strange. I held onto the swingarm and wiggled the rim to see if the wheel bearings were shot. They checked out fine. So I grasped the swingarm’s chain tensioners and gave a wiggle and the whole assembly moved about three-quarters of an inch left to right. That’s not good. In fact that borders on bad to terrible.
There’s a web site dedicated to the venerable old XS 650 (XS650.com - Dedicated to the Yamaha XS650) that had a wealth of information. That site pointed me to Mike’s XS web site for parts (Yamaha XS650 Parts - MikesXS.com). I surmised I needed to replace the swingarm bearings (which it doesn’t have) and found I needed to replace the swingarm bushings (which it does have). I also found out the original bushings were plastic. I was sure that Yamaha had done this because plastic holds up so much better than metal in most cases (that or they were aiming for a price point, (the point being someone actually buying the bike)). I would also be surprised if they hadn’t already been replaced since this bike was over 30 years old, but I have found life is full of surprises. Sure enough the bushings when extracted were plastic (what was left of them). I replaced them with bronze bushings and a steel bolt tube for a meager sum (about the price of the bike) from Mike’s supply.
As I continued my check out I found the electric starter would skip a few beats before crunching the flywheel and then spinning the motor. While it wasn’t completely unnerving it was causing my sphincter to pucker every time I hit the starter button. So back to Mike’s XS to buy a robust starter gear replacement. The original gear was made from a softer material than the flywheel so that it would wear and the flywheel would not. Unfortunately metallurgy in the Cretaceous of motorcycling didn’t have infinitesimally small gaps in hardness between dissimilar metals, so the result was the starter gear usually ended up beaver chewed into oblivion within a few weeks of buying the bike and thus everyone would kick start the old heaps. Mike had resolved this with a better gear and spring unit and both were available for a modest price (about the cost of the bike, each).
While I had the right engine cover off anyway to replace the starter gear I opted to replace the clutch and pressure plates as well. This was not a simple matter of just ordering the parts. The old XS2 used rubber spacers between the plates and nobody was manufacturing the clutch fiber plates with the same thickness, so I had to order an additional pressure plate and fiber ring to account for the new thinner plates. Mike has those on hand as well for a few shillings (about the cost of the bike). The right side cover also contains an oil filter and I replaced that as well. In this case however the box of goodies I got with the bike contained the filter and gasket. When I had all the new parts installed I buttoned it all back up only to discover the kick starter was locked in place and the engine dripped oil at an alarming rate. This was due to the kick-starter shaft being ‘out-of-time’ with the crank engagement gear, causing the kick-start shaft seal to rub and push on the case cover. This pushed the cover away from the mating surface allowing the engine oil to pour out about as fast as I could pour it in. Amazing (not to mention messy and slippery).
Well taking it all back apart and getting everything corrected was only time I could never recover so it was no big deal. Once it was all properly reassembled the electric starter worked like a champ to spin the motor and the kick-starter worked like a champ to reduce my knee joint to splinters. I was very pleased.
I found the lower sump filter in the box of goodies so I pulled the sump filter and discovered another factory original part. The sump filter was encased in a thick and deep black sludge material that resembled crude oil. I am sure the language I was using when I pulled it was pretty crude as well. That’s because the designers of this bike had so designed the engine as to ensure that when this filter was removed the last quart of oil remaining in the motor would run up your sleeves. That’s what I call a nifty design concept. Once the filter was back in I spent some time cleaning the barnacles off the lower engine cases. This was likely the first time that had been done since the bike was new. This was quality time (with a lot of quantity thrown in).
Continued...........
By Atomsplitter
I live in Kansas and by definition since L. Frank Baum immortalized this state in his children’s book series it has been known as Oz. New Mexico’s license tags reading “Land of Ahs” notwithstanding, Kansas is the original OZ. In fact the town of Wamego, KS has the Oz Museum. (I’ve even purchased products from Oz Cycle Salvage (ozpowersports.com) in Ottawa, Kansas). So there should be no mistake as to where Oz resides.
A few years back I was fiddling a 1972 Yamaha XS 650 XS2 back to life with the intention of making a huge profit when it was done. My intention versus reality is defined by the actual sales experience (and usually starts my pocketbook pains). For me the delta between “moderate” profit and “huge” isn’t the yawning chasm that most people might assume. If, say, I made $10.00 over cost that would be a “moderate” profit. If I made a whopping $25.00 over my cost then that would be “huge,” (some may consider that more a whipping, but they don’t live in Kansas). Some might think doubling or tripling an investment’s cost is “moderate” but then they have absolutely no idea what the value of a 1972 Japanese bike is to the average consumer on the open market. Knowing what I paid for it and how much I was sinking into it made the potential profit margin recede like the tide in the Bay of Fundy, (you can’t even see the ocean from there). So in essence I was hoping it would sell for something more than I had wrapped up in it (thus a “huge” profit). If it sold for less than what I had in it, well I term that a ‘don’t tell the wife.’
I had purchased this particular unit from a co-worker that had fallen on hard times (getting divorced) and he was hoping to keep a little dignity (thereby demanding cash). He had included a box of parts in the deal that he had gathered to fix the old scoot himself but had not actually mustered the courage to tackle the project. Diving into ancient Japanese bikes requires the fortitude not dissimilar to that displayed by the British cavalry during the Charge of the Light Brigade.
Into the valley of poverty rode the delusional.
Forward the Bike Remade
Was there profit to be made?
Not a ‘Tuner’ that he knew
After his whole wad that he blew
So as he has blundered on
His nest egg ripped and fully gone
Into the Valley of Bankruptcy he rode
Oblivious to reason or logic he strode.
During my initial reconnoiter of the bike I had noted some issues not previously tackled during other repair old bike reclamation jobs. My major concern was with the wiring harness since my last XS 650 burned its harness to a crisp while riding home one night at 2AM. That was back in 1976 and that bike was a 1974 model. It took 6 months to get a replacement harness from Japan. If the harness on this bike was bad I was pretty sure getting a replacement would take a smidgeon longer than 6 months (more likely to be measured in decades). The wiring checked out fine but while tracing wires on the under side of the rear fender I noticed the wheel moved left to right when I bumped it. Odd, on most bikes the wheel rotates but has no left-right movement at all. This was strange. I held onto the swingarm and wiggled the rim to see if the wheel bearings were shot. They checked out fine. So I grasped the swingarm’s chain tensioners and gave a wiggle and the whole assembly moved about three-quarters of an inch left to right. That’s not good. In fact that borders on bad to terrible.
There’s a web site dedicated to the venerable old XS 650 (XS650.com - Dedicated to the Yamaha XS650) that had a wealth of information. That site pointed me to Mike’s XS web site for parts (Yamaha XS650 Parts - MikesXS.com). I surmised I needed to replace the swingarm bearings (which it doesn’t have) and found I needed to replace the swingarm bushings (which it does have). I also found out the original bushings were plastic. I was sure that Yamaha had done this because plastic holds up so much better than metal in most cases (that or they were aiming for a price point, (the point being someone actually buying the bike)). I would also be surprised if they hadn’t already been replaced since this bike was over 30 years old, but I have found life is full of surprises. Sure enough the bushings when extracted were plastic (what was left of them). I replaced them with bronze bushings and a steel bolt tube for a meager sum (about the price of the bike) from Mike’s supply.
As I continued my check out I found the electric starter would skip a few beats before crunching the flywheel and then spinning the motor. While it wasn’t completely unnerving it was causing my sphincter to pucker every time I hit the starter button. So back to Mike’s XS to buy a robust starter gear replacement. The original gear was made from a softer material than the flywheel so that it would wear and the flywheel would not. Unfortunately metallurgy in the Cretaceous of motorcycling didn’t have infinitesimally small gaps in hardness between dissimilar metals, so the result was the starter gear usually ended up beaver chewed into oblivion within a few weeks of buying the bike and thus everyone would kick start the old heaps. Mike had resolved this with a better gear and spring unit and both were available for a modest price (about the cost of the bike, each).
While I had the right engine cover off anyway to replace the starter gear I opted to replace the clutch and pressure plates as well. This was not a simple matter of just ordering the parts. The old XS2 used rubber spacers between the plates and nobody was manufacturing the clutch fiber plates with the same thickness, so I had to order an additional pressure plate and fiber ring to account for the new thinner plates. Mike has those on hand as well for a few shillings (about the cost of the bike). The right side cover also contains an oil filter and I replaced that as well. In this case however the box of goodies I got with the bike contained the filter and gasket. When I had all the new parts installed I buttoned it all back up only to discover the kick starter was locked in place and the engine dripped oil at an alarming rate. This was due to the kick-starter shaft being ‘out-of-time’ with the crank engagement gear, causing the kick-start shaft seal to rub and push on the case cover. This pushed the cover away from the mating surface allowing the engine oil to pour out about as fast as I could pour it in. Amazing (not to mention messy and slippery).
Well taking it all back apart and getting everything corrected was only time I could never recover so it was no big deal. Once it was all properly reassembled the electric starter worked like a champ to spin the motor and the kick-starter worked like a champ to reduce my knee joint to splinters. I was very pleased.
I found the lower sump filter in the box of goodies so I pulled the sump filter and discovered another factory original part. The sump filter was encased in a thick and deep black sludge material that resembled crude oil. I am sure the language I was using when I pulled it was pretty crude as well. That’s because the designers of this bike had so designed the engine as to ensure that when this filter was removed the last quart of oil remaining in the motor would run up your sleeves. That’s what I call a nifty design concept. Once the filter was back in I spent some time cleaning the barnacles off the lower engine cases. This was likely the first time that had been done since the bike was new. This was quality time (with a lot of quantity thrown in).
Continued...........
