Captainkirk
Old School Mopar Warrior
Well, let's start at the beginning. When I finally got the gonads to yank the motor, this is what she looked like.
Captainkirk's Duster project
- Thread starter Captainkirk
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Captainkirk
Old School Mopar Warrior
Next, the hood came off. (My youngest boy standing there in the Dean T-shirt before he cut his hair!)
Once the motor was out, I could see I had my hands full. Lots of rust, etc. to contend with. No simple engine swap here!
Once the motor was out, I could see I had my hands full. Lots of rust, etc. to contend with. No simple engine swap here!
Captainkirk
Old School Mopar Warrior
Here is the former resting place of The Duke's heart....his rib cage, if you will....
Captainkirk
Old School Mopar Warrior
Ooops. Looks like I've already posted some of these a ways back.......they say the memory's the first thing to go, right?
Captainkirk said:
There are 3 signs of old age,Cap'n. 1 is lack of memory. Uhhh--if I can think of the other 2,I'll let you know. :blah5:
Captainkirk
Old School Mopar Warrior
Part II Chapter 7
A Midsummer Night(hawk)s Dream
(or, I'm not sure if that hurt, hit me again!)
With the motor sitting in limbo, I had just enough time before the weather broke to get myself knee-deep into more trouble. I happened across another motorcycle cheap ..and not running. Did I mention to you that I'm a sucker for bikes? Maybe once or twice? Yeah, I thought so.
Well, among other things, I repair and restore bikes as a sort-of supplemental income, shall we say? A means to justify an end? Well, this peach looked ripe for the pickin'. The price was right, and besides, It runs, said The Previous Owner... it just needs the carbs rebuilt ..and thats why they're off. I started to rebuild them.
Then it doesn't run.
Oh, no, it runs. I heard it run. From the guy I bought it from.
And that was ?
Seven years ago. It ran for a little bit, then just quit . Like it was bad gas or something.
Or Something.
An awkward moment of silence ensued.
So . it doesn't run.
Clearly, I was exhausting this guys patience .
Well, do you want it or not?
Running or not, the price was right. I had come with cash in hand, prepared to haggle, but it was apparent that road was leading nowhere. Lord knows I did not need this motorcycle. Especially since it didn't run. Despite what the guy said. It didn't help matters that the tires were low on air and the front brake was locked. (We ended up having to manhandle and drag the thing up on the trailer like a bawling calf on his way to a branding party.) But we'd driven almost an hour to pick it up and I'd paid for my buddy's gas and dinner, as well. And it had a clear title. An easy grand or more if it was made to run. My buddy quipped, "Well, look at it this way. If it's not worth fixing, you can part it out on eBay and get your money back, plus."
Thanks, pal.
And so that is how the Nighthawk came to snuggle up next to the Buell and the Seca ..and The Duke.
I have this stupid recurring dream that someday, my bike repair biz will finance my car hobby.
The key word here, folks, is stupid.
It hasn't yet. Still, I persist.
Forrest Gump's momma said it best. No, not that box of chocolates crap, the other pearl of wisdom. Stupid is as stupid does.
Yeah, that one.
Or Something turned out to be yet another one of The Captain's Adventures In Motorsports.
Not only did one of the carbs have a broken-off needle screw, missing pieces and such, but I decided it would be prudent to run a compression check.
Prudent, my foot. Bad move.
Number one was great. 190 psi, nobody could throw stones at that! Life is ducky!
Number two was not as good. 150 psi. A forty pound split. Carbon build-up on #1 could account for some of that ..maybe. Life is still OK.
Number four was down to 120. More in line with number two. Not stellar, but it should still run with no problems. And this was a cold compression test, after seven years. I could check it again after I'd run it. Life: can't live with it, can't live... oh, never mind.
But wait, Captain, you're saying. You forgot about number three cylinder.
Oh, did I? Mmmmm, must've forgot to mention it. The fact that number three compression was zero, that is.
Not zero, as in Jeez, thats low, but zero as in Is this friggin' gauge broken?
The gauge was not broken.
Off to work, to grab my leakdown tester. We'd get to the bottom of this!
TDC #3, with 80 pounds cranked in, and the plot thickens. There was still no pressure. I could hear air flowing though, somewhere; like a little nest of cobras playing hide-and-seek somewhere in the pipes.
Bring out the soap bubble solution and hose it down. (They don't tell you about this application in the Dawn commercials!). Nary a bubble to be found leaking back through the intake side of #3, which woulda been my first guess. But ...I could hear air coming through the intake side of #2 ..which was totally bizarre, and made no sense at all. (And I don't mind telling you, was a little bit on the freaky side!) Couldn't be a blown head gasket, because 1-2 were separated from 3-4 with the cam chain tunnel sandwiched in between; two pieces of aluminum rye with a half pound of cam chain salami slathered with 10W40 mustard in between.
I took a pull off my beer and pondered on this anomaly a bit.
I could hear air moving through the exhaust (hence my little nest of peek-a-boo cobras). Even though the 1-2 exhaust header was separate from 3-4 (it was a four-into-two system), there was a small crossover between the two pipes. Could air be traveling out #3 exhaust port, cross over into the other pipe, back up into #2 exhaust port, into the cylinder and out the still-open intake valves? The #2 piston would have to be at BDC with both sets of valves open, as in the BDC overlap stage. A one-in-a-million shot!
But nothing else made any sense. I decided to drop the exhaust and run the leakdown test again.
With #3 on TDC and 80 psi pumping into the chamber, the gauge still read zero. I peered into the exhaust port with my flashlight and was greeted cheerily by a small hurricane blowing gale force winds in my face.
Quick, think . What else could it be that would NOT require pulling the head?
Maybe the valve was stuck in the guide. Or there was carbon under the valve seat holding the valve open. Staking the valve would show me.
For those of you unaware of the term, staking the valve involves putting leakdown pressure in the cylinder at TDC, then using great proficiency and pinpoint precision, wailing on the offending valve with a plastic, rubber or rawhide mallet with all the subtlety of a Vulcan blacksmith.
I chose plastic that night, if you must know.
So, I went about the task of removing the DOHC setup and its many nasty little slippery henchmen known henceforth as rocker arms. (This is a four-valve-per-cylinder motor with more henchmen than Carter's has little pills).
As soon as the valve train was out of the way, I could see a slight, ummmm, irregularity. Like, one of the two exhaust valves hanging open about ¼ inch.
This was not going according to plan.
(Probably the same thoughts Custer had as the Sioux closed in around him.)
Staking the exhaust valve had no effect whatsoever, unless it made it worse. But how can you tell? Its hard to measure a pressure of less than zero!
Flipping the head upside down on the bench, it didn't take a rocket scientist to spot a problem.
The valve was hanging open half an inch! And it was bent.
Now, when I say bent, I'm not talking an eensie weensie, two-ten-thousandths of an inch off center out-of-tolerance.
I'm speaking in eighths of an inch.
Or Something. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Could become the next popular catch phrase, no? Like when you get expelled from school. Uh, mom, I got sent home, or something. Or when you get fired from your job. Uh, Honey, I got the rest of the week off, or something.
Not that I wasn't expecting something like this. Caveat emptor*, and all that. I knew the odds when I bought it. Still, this quick-turn bike might turn into sort of a lazy-eight. And move The Duke farther towards the back burner.
Still, The Duke was a one-way money pit. Entertainment. A hobby. And while the hawk fit the latter two categories, it also was a (potential) income source. Spades trump diamonds. And that's why youre reading about motorcycles tonight instead of Mopars.
* Caveat Emptor ..let the buyer beware (Latin)
A Midsummer Night(hawk)s Dream
(or, I'm not sure if that hurt, hit me again!)
With the motor sitting in limbo, I had just enough time before the weather broke to get myself knee-deep into more trouble. I happened across another motorcycle cheap ..and not running. Did I mention to you that I'm a sucker for bikes? Maybe once or twice? Yeah, I thought so.
Well, among other things, I repair and restore bikes as a sort-of supplemental income, shall we say? A means to justify an end? Well, this peach looked ripe for the pickin'. The price was right, and besides, It runs, said The Previous Owner... it just needs the carbs rebuilt ..and thats why they're off. I started to rebuild them.
Then it doesn't run.
Oh, no, it runs. I heard it run. From the guy I bought it from.
And that was ?
Seven years ago. It ran for a little bit, then just quit . Like it was bad gas or something.
Or Something.
An awkward moment of silence ensued.
So . it doesn't run.
Clearly, I was exhausting this guys patience .
Well, do you want it or not?
Running or not, the price was right. I had come with cash in hand, prepared to haggle, but it was apparent that road was leading nowhere. Lord knows I did not need this motorcycle. Especially since it didn't run. Despite what the guy said. It didn't help matters that the tires were low on air and the front brake was locked. (We ended up having to manhandle and drag the thing up on the trailer like a bawling calf on his way to a branding party.) But we'd driven almost an hour to pick it up and I'd paid for my buddy's gas and dinner, as well. And it had a clear title. An easy grand or more if it was made to run. My buddy quipped, "Well, look at it this way. If it's not worth fixing, you can part it out on eBay and get your money back, plus."
Thanks, pal.
And so that is how the Nighthawk came to snuggle up next to the Buell and the Seca ..and The Duke.
***
I have this stupid recurring dream that someday, my bike repair biz will finance my car hobby.
The key word here, folks, is stupid.
It hasn't yet. Still, I persist.
Forrest Gump's momma said it best. No, not that box of chocolates crap, the other pearl of wisdom. Stupid is as stupid does.
Yeah, that one.
Or Something turned out to be yet another one of The Captain's Adventures In Motorsports.
Not only did one of the carbs have a broken-off needle screw, missing pieces and such, but I decided it would be prudent to run a compression check.
Prudent, my foot. Bad move.
Number one was great. 190 psi, nobody could throw stones at that! Life is ducky!
Number two was not as good. 150 psi. A forty pound split. Carbon build-up on #1 could account for some of that ..maybe. Life is still OK.
Number four was down to 120. More in line with number two. Not stellar, but it should still run with no problems. And this was a cold compression test, after seven years. I could check it again after I'd run it. Life: can't live with it, can't live... oh, never mind.
But wait, Captain, you're saying. You forgot about number three cylinder.
Oh, did I? Mmmmm, must've forgot to mention it. The fact that number three compression was zero, that is.
Not zero, as in Jeez, thats low, but zero as in Is this friggin' gauge broken?
The gauge was not broken.
Off to work, to grab my leakdown tester. We'd get to the bottom of this!
TDC #3, with 80 pounds cranked in, and the plot thickens. There was still no pressure. I could hear air flowing though, somewhere; like a little nest of cobras playing hide-and-seek somewhere in the pipes.
Bring out the soap bubble solution and hose it down. (They don't tell you about this application in the Dawn commercials!). Nary a bubble to be found leaking back through the intake side of #3, which woulda been my first guess. But ...I could hear air coming through the intake side of #2 ..which was totally bizarre, and made no sense at all. (And I don't mind telling you, was a little bit on the freaky side!) Couldn't be a blown head gasket, because 1-2 were separated from 3-4 with the cam chain tunnel sandwiched in between; two pieces of aluminum rye with a half pound of cam chain salami slathered with 10W40 mustard in between.
I took a pull off my beer and pondered on this anomaly a bit.
I could hear air moving through the exhaust (hence my little nest of peek-a-boo cobras). Even though the 1-2 exhaust header was separate from 3-4 (it was a four-into-two system), there was a small crossover between the two pipes. Could air be traveling out #3 exhaust port, cross over into the other pipe, back up into #2 exhaust port, into the cylinder and out the still-open intake valves? The #2 piston would have to be at BDC with both sets of valves open, as in the BDC overlap stage. A one-in-a-million shot!
But nothing else made any sense. I decided to drop the exhaust and run the leakdown test again.
With #3 on TDC and 80 psi pumping into the chamber, the gauge still read zero. I peered into the exhaust port with my flashlight and was greeted cheerily by a small hurricane blowing gale force winds in my face.
Quick, think . What else could it be that would NOT require pulling the head?
Maybe the valve was stuck in the guide. Or there was carbon under the valve seat holding the valve open. Staking the valve would show me.
For those of you unaware of the term, staking the valve involves putting leakdown pressure in the cylinder at TDC, then using great proficiency and pinpoint precision, wailing on the offending valve with a plastic, rubber or rawhide mallet with all the subtlety of a Vulcan blacksmith.
I chose plastic that night, if you must know.
So, I went about the task of removing the DOHC setup and its many nasty little slippery henchmen known henceforth as rocker arms. (This is a four-valve-per-cylinder motor with more henchmen than Carter's has little pills).
As soon as the valve train was out of the way, I could see a slight, ummmm, irregularity. Like, one of the two exhaust valves hanging open about ¼ inch.
This was not going according to plan.
(Probably the same thoughts Custer had as the Sioux closed in around him.)
Staking the exhaust valve had no effect whatsoever, unless it made it worse. But how can you tell? Its hard to measure a pressure of less than zero!
***
It was readily apparent that, like it or not, the head was coming off. And so, with wrenches flying fast and furious, a few minutes later I opened up the motor like a ripe pineapple.Flipping the head upside down on the bench, it didn't take a rocket scientist to spot a problem.
The valve was hanging open half an inch! And it was bent.
Now, when I say bent, I'm not talking an eensie weensie, two-ten-thousandths of an inch off center out-of-tolerance.
I'm speaking in eighths of an inch.
Or Something. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Could become the next popular catch phrase, no? Like when you get expelled from school. Uh, mom, I got sent home, or something. Or when you get fired from your job. Uh, Honey, I got the rest of the week off, or something.
Not that I wasn't expecting something like this. Caveat emptor*, and all that. I knew the odds when I bought it. Still, this quick-turn bike might turn into sort of a lazy-eight. And move The Duke farther towards the back burner.
Still, The Duke was a one-way money pit. Entertainment. A hobby. And while the hawk fit the latter two categories, it also was a (potential) income source. Spades trump diamonds. And that's why youre reading about motorcycles tonight instead of Mopars.
* Caveat Emptor ..let the buyer beware (Latin)
Last edited:
:coffee2: What more could you want at 4 AM,than a hot cup,and a story from the Cap'n. (Little early for the corn though ) :happy1:
340dartswinger
Well-Known Member
i hope we get to the Duke soon! I love the stories about the bikes as well, but the Dukde is just beggin to get in the spotlight!
LJS30
Well-Known Member
Man this guy is great. :happy1:
unreformed66
redscamp72
Well, I'm satisfied.. that made a good bedtime story in the land of Motorheads..
Captainkirk
Old School Mopar Warrior
340dartswinger said:
That's it boys! Keep encouraging me like this and you'll shame me into finishing The Duke just so I can write about it!
Seriously, though, I truly love this writing stuff...and I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I do writing. Rest assured of one thing......I'll continue to jot down my adventures as they happen as long as you all are willing to read about them.
Captainkirk
Old School Mopar Warrior
[QUOTE='73red-duster]:coffee2: What more could you want at 4 AM,than a hot cup,and a story from the Cap'n. (Little early for the corn though ) :happy1:[/QUOTE]
What in the Sam Hill are you doing up at 4 AM reading my bedtime stories? Don't tell me they're THAT good..........
What in the Sam Hill are you doing up at 4 AM reading my bedtime stories? Don't tell me they're THAT good..........
Captainkirk said:
Getting ready for work Cap'n. It may seem rough going to work at 5,but getting off about noon,is pretty sweet. And by the way,yeah,they're that good. :thumbup:
340dartswinger
Well-Known Member
Cap i can almost hear the Duke whispering to you to get him finished!
Captainkirk
Old School Mopar Warrior
340dartswinger said:
The Duke doesn't whisper. He shouts. And he's been quiet lately.....but you better believe when he starts his bellowing, I listen!
340dartswinger
Well-Known Member
well there isnt anything like getting him to wake up by flashing the dollars in front of him for new parts!
340dartswinger
Well-Known Member
anything new brewing cap'n?
I have read some of the stories to wife and we think they are great.
I can almost see the duke in the dark corner trying to talk to me sometimes.
Glad to here that you enjoy righting them as much as we like reading them Sir.
I am sitting tall in the saddle waiting for the next good read.
I can almost see the duke in the dark corner trying to talk to me sometimes.
Glad to here that you enjoy righting them as much as we like reading them Sir.
I am sitting tall in the saddle waiting for the next good read.
Captainkirk
Old School Mopar Warrior
Thanks for the kind words!
The trouble with me is I don't have enough going on with The Duke to keep the story going in one uninterrupted stream. It's the bust season at work, and my free time has been spent mostly trying to do side jobs out in The Duke's house (yes, I get dirty looks!). I will try to keep you all entertained in between Duke Stories with as much as I can come up with.....Lord knows you all are a loyal bunch of readers and I appreciate you taking the time to read my babbling.
The trouble with me is I don't have enough going on with The Duke to keep the story going in one uninterrupted stream. It's the bust season at work, and my free time has been spent mostly trying to do side jobs out in The Duke's house (yes, I get dirty looks!). I will try to keep you all entertained in between Duke Stories with as much as I can come up with.....Lord knows you all are a loyal bunch of readers and I appreciate you taking the time to read my babbling.
340dartswinger
Well-Known Member
well what else am i gonna do at work cap'n haha
340dartswinger
Well-Known Member
oh Cap'n!! your audience is calling!
Captainkirk
Old School Mopar Warrior
Sorry, boys. Wife is in the hospital. I'll get back at ya ASAP.
340dartswinger
Well-Known Member
sorry to hear that cap'n hope its nothing serious and she gets well soon!!
I hope everything go's well at the hospital and you get her back home soon.
OneOfMany
Well-Known Member
I have spent the end of work yesterday, and a good portion here today reading this story, and I have to say I'm moved. This has been an incredible journey, and has made me sit back and recount things that I haven't thought of in years.
Of course, like everyone here I'm sure, I would love to read the end of the story now. And I'm sure we can all picture an ending; mine is a gorgeous Duster gleaming in Winchester, the sun's reflection on the chrome only blurred by the sweet, unburned fuel coming out of the two chrome tips.
But I realize that the story, with all that has happened to date, is not ready to be ended. Not yet. Instead, like the Hobbit, it is simply a prolouge of the greater story yet to come.
I understand now why you cannot ignore this journey that you have embarked on.
There are battles that you will win on your quest, and these battles will make claiming the reward so much sweeter. Of course, there will also be those that seem hopeless, ones where throwing in the towel will seem the easiest solution, where adversity will stops you dead in your tracks. These are the battles that will test you.
At these times, re-read what you wrote here, and the comments of those reading it, and you will realize that the hardest battle you will encounter has already been won. The inner battle that forced you to exclaim to all present that you are ready to embark on the journey iteself.
Of course, like everyone here I'm sure, I would love to read the end of the story now. And I'm sure we can all picture an ending; mine is a gorgeous Duster gleaming in Winchester, the sun's reflection on the chrome only blurred by the sweet, unburned fuel coming out of the two chrome tips.
But I realize that the story, with all that has happened to date, is not ready to be ended. Not yet. Instead, like the Hobbit, it is simply a prolouge of the greater story yet to come.
I understand now why you cannot ignore this journey that you have embarked on.
There are battles that you will win on your quest, and these battles will make claiming the reward so much sweeter. Of course, there will also be those that seem hopeless, ones where throwing in the towel will seem the easiest solution, where adversity will stops you dead in your tracks. These are the battles that will test you.
At these times, re-read what you wrote here, and the comments of those reading it, and you will realize that the hardest battle you will encounter has already been won. The inner battle that forced you to exclaim to all present that you are ready to embark on the journey iteself.
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