Computer Supplies

 

Team East Baton transfer

Tinslinger handing off the Team Easst baton in Maumee Ohio on 3/17/2012

Team East photo in front of the Michigan Capitol building inLansing.  3/20/2012

Frank Carpenter handing baton to Dan "Hoosier Daddy" near Angola, IN on 3/20/2012.

Big Money Rally

And so it begins.

On a rainy, cold January day, I set off to earn a primo t-shirt for participating in the Big Money Rally.

Of course, it wasn't raining when I left the house. Nature revolted as I reached the point of no return, nearing my first bonus location. By the time I had found a parking spot that would show the building with its zip code visible, as well as the bike and the required placard, rain was pouring.

Since I started out without rain gear on, I figured I might as well stay wet. I quickly set up the shot and posted it to the internet with the wrong site location. I was in Dundee, MI on Monroe Street. Monroe is another Michigan town, due East about 20 miles. So, naturally I labeled the bonus picture Monroe instead of Dundee. No matter, I punched the next address into the GPS and headed for the Post Office in Tecumseh.

By now, the rain was coming down in sheets and I was starting to re-think my choice of wearing an open face helmet. There is a sweet spot on the Goldwing that allows rain to fly above your face at speeds greater than 80 mph. At speeds of about 35 or less the rain hits your face but just gets you wet. On the way to Tecumseh, traffic required a speed between 60 and 70, which is similar to having someone constantly shooting you in the face with a low powered BB machine pistol.

At any rate, I arrived at the Tecumseh Post Office more or less intact. I composed a beautiful shot of the building. Then I sent the wrong picture in to the Rally web site. The one I meant to send is this:
When I got home I realized my error and re-submitted the correct picture. I checked the web-site later, and found the BMR scoring administrators had given me credit for the two locations in spite of the liberties I had taken with place names.

I chalk it up to the sympathy vote. They must have taken pity of the soggy guy from Michigan trolling around in a rainstorm in the middle of January trying to score a complimentary t-shirt.

If anyone is actually reading this, take a look at the BMR site. It threatens to be a fun couple of months for anyone who owns a bike and hasn't got enough sense to come in out of the rain.

Fall has officially arrived in lower Michigan

Deception Pass

Whidbey Island

 

GL1800 Starter - When good starters go bad

The Goldwing motorcycle is a wonderful feat of engineering. It is a leading edge machine, and reliable to a fault. That is what makes a mechanical problem so irksome. The machine rarely breaks. The usual routine involves adding gas and occasionally changing the oil. The first valve clearance check isn't even needed until 32,000 miles. And then adjustments are seldom needed.

When the key is turned and touching the starter button results in silence, there is a moment of disbelief. Then follows the checklist. Kill switch set, lights and other electrics work. What could it be? The ignition key assembly must be ok or the lights wouldn't come on. There is a click noise coming from the area behind the battery but no starter engagement.

Lately, I've begun to rely on the internet to solve problems whether it be a toilet tank that won't shut off or a medical condition. The usual routine is to examine a number of potential diagnoses and their respective solutions, pick one and exhaust time, energy and money finding out it has nothing to do with the issue. There's a greater than 50% chance things will actually get worse using this process, but it is irresistible.

My search for the starter solution began with checking my favorite Goldwing site; gl1800riders.com. Advice was abundant when I described my problem. It was almost universally agreed upon that the problem was a bad relay which was simple to fix.

Armed with new confidence I looked up the procedure for accessing the relay. It turns out the manual wants you to remove the left saddlebag, which requires removing the rear fender and entire lower portion of the trunk.

Of course, after taking apart about one third of the bodywork and replacing the relay, I fond that when I tried the starter the same click followed by silence remained. On the upside, I discovered none of the bodywork really had to be removed to access the relay. All one has to do is remove the battery and battery box and the relay practically jumps out of its moorings. (This knowledge would be handy later).

Having exhausted the collective knowledge of all the internet experts, I went back to my roots and decided to test the starter itself. Although this endeavor eventually proved to be semi-successful, it is not a project to be undertaken by the faint of heart. Honda engineers have packed a lot of technology into a small package. Consequently, any time you want to tinker with something it requires removal or adjustment of several other systems. In the case of the starter motor, you have to remove the side panels, the dashboard, the top shelter (faux gas tank), the real gas tank, the rear hydraulic brake system, the reverse linkage, and numerous fasteners, clips, wire connectors, etc.

The starter is held to the engine case by three bolts, one of which requires the use of all the swear words ever invented to remove.

Besides the rear brake linkage, and hydraulics, the worst part of the job is getting the gas tank out of a space that is smaller than the tank itself. Once again, removal involves a liberal application of magic incantations. (Important tip: siphon out the gas before attempting to lift out he tank). Even after all the gas has been removed, about a gallon will spill all over the bike and work area even if it is kept perfectly right side up at all times.

Bottom line. The starter turned out to be the culprit. Since no one in the greater Detroit area would rebuild it. I cleaned it up the best I could and replaced it. It worked for about a year before giving up again. This time I troubleshot the job by putting the bike in gear and rocking it, then trying the starter. A few rocks and it would start. Has to be the starter. According to the internet a replacement starter for a 2002 Goldwing is worth about $500 to $700.00. A 2006 starter is $112.00 including shipping. According to the experts online it should fit. Hahahaha. Anyway, I have started stripping down the bike and waiting for the part to arrive. The saga continues.

Fast forward a week. The 2006 starter arrived via FedEx. At first glance it looked close. Upon comparing it side by side with the original, the new one is about 3/8" shorter overall. This may be a good thing since it the old one takes up all the available space to manipulate. The catch is the electrical connection stud. On the new one, the stud sticks right out of the top. About 2 inches beyond the maximum reach of the cable.

The solution is to remove the mounting collar using the three long screws. Rotate the housing 120 degrees and reinstall. Of course there is an alignment pin to deal with and the two planetary gears to trick back into the right position. The alignment pin came out fairly easily using a pair of needle nose pliers. Putting the whole thing back together was uneventful. Now-on to the install in the bike and reassembly of all the pieces.

I just noticed I never finished this saga. It ends well. After putting everything back together (including using the parts left over after the first strip down) the mighty gold wing started like it was brand new.

The moral to the story, if there is one, is to trust your own experience and knowledge (if you have any) over all the armchair experts. And secondly, no matter how devious motorcycle engineers have become, we can still fix our own broken machines like we did in the old days. It just takes more magic words.

Gas Cap

Never lose your gas cap again. K.I.S.S.

Fork Seal Change on a Gold Wing

While repairing an uncooperative starter, I noticed fork oil running down the right side of the front suspension. Closer inspection revealed soaked brake pads and coated wheel and undercarriage on the right side.

I decided to get an estimate at the local Honda shop. Four hundred plus parts. Naturally I opted for the most difficult choice and bought the new seals and dust covers, optimistically assuming nothing else would need repair once I opened up the job.

The first step I recommend is to find a truck stop or industrial waste site and collect about 5 gallons of used petroleum products and if possible add to this a few pounds or pureed rotten moose guts. Spread this mixture liberally over the garage floor, walls, and any tools and benches you plan to use to mask the smell and roughly match the volume of the goo you will "drain" from the forks.

Next spend a few hours reading on the internet how easy it is to swap out a set of seals in 30 minutes to two hours tops. Don't forget to study the "shop manual" for useless information that has nothing to do with the actual work you are about to tackle. After wasting half a day looking for time saving shortcuts, give up and actually start taking the bike apart.

It turns out the geniuses at Honda use two bolts on the left brake caliper and two on the right to hold said devices to the forks. When you try to remove them you find two bolts take a 13 mm socket, one a hex wrench, and one a #40 Torx socket. Yes, three different fasteners to hold what amounts to the same component to the same structure, just on the opposite side.

Removing the front half of the fender and the front wheel is pretty straighforward. Unless you count the 30 or so fasteners you have to take off to get the brakes out of the way. It's also important to consult a higher power before trying to fish the back part of the fender out of the tangle of brake lines and sytem of tabs and slots designed to test the patience of Job.

Once all the various contraptions that are stuck to the fork legs are removed the job gets a little simpler. There are still a couple of tricks up Honda's sleeve however. The dash has to be removed to access the top caps. This of course means dealing with the wire connector which cannot be pulled apart no matter how many times you have done it before. (Every time I take it apart I swear I will file off the little catch that causes the problem).

Another procedure calls for loosening the hex bolt in the bottom of each leg. Many people suggest using an air impact wrench for this. I opted for the low tech method. Using a standard hex wrench, I found a giant Crescent wrench and fitted the "L" part into the jaws and broke loose the stubborn bolt. This is also the time when random spurts of stinky black oil will begin to fly out out in all directions without warning or deference to physics.

Speaking of oversize tools, the top caps can not be loosened without resorting to extra leverage. After straining with a ratchet wrench and inventing a few new words, I decided to gain an advantage by using my torque wrench with the long handle. As I was holding the right handlebar with my belly and pulling the wrench for all I was worth it occurred to me it might be interesting to see how much torque it took to break this particular bolt loose. Just as my eyes started to focus on the tiny numbers the bolt gave way. I didn't get the reading but I did put the torque wrench on the floor where I could trip over it a few minutes later.

One more obstacle remained before I could actually remove the right fork and spill more oil on the floor. The upper pinch bolt came loose pretty easily. The lower one is semi-hidden up under the front body work and of course coated with a thick mixture of oil and dirt. After loosening the lower pinch bolt I soon found the fork tube was still stuck fast and no amount of cursing would cause it to budge. I re-loosened the upper pinch bolt and began hammering on the top of the fork cap with a big hammer and a half inch socket extension. For some reason I came to my senses temporarily and re-examined the lower pinch bolt. This time I noticed the second bolt immediately above the lower one I had already loosened. A couple of turns and the leg came sliding out, dripping filthy smelly oil all the way to the work bench where it puked another puddle of grayish ooze before I had time to react.

Now I have mentioned several times the odor associated with the used fork oil. It is severe. Think of what it might be like to sniff a vagrant's sweat sock which has been soaked in kimchi, and buried under a damp chicken coop for about three years. Then double the effect.

Once the dismantling is complete, the rest of the job is anticlimactic. At least I hope so. I haven't started putting it together yet. And I still have the left side to do.

Father's Day in Afghanistan

"We sleep soundly in our beds because rough men stand ready in the night to visit violence on those who would do us harm."
-Winston Churchill

Yellow Wolf Directs Traffic on the Cherhola Hwy.

Interesting Sights Along the Freeway.

Coming back to Michigan from the mountains on Colorado, one is prepared for the relative monotony of miles of freeway riding. The alternative is a multi-day ride on secondary roads with the chance to enjoy a little more local color. Luckily, even the freeway offers the occasional respite from the sameness of the desert or flat farmland.

Coming down old route 666 after visiting Four Corners, the town of Ship Rock offers a view of its namesake off to the west.
The area sports a number of lesser volcanic remains, all impressive, none as imposing and elegant in its command of the surroundings.

Continuing south, isolated thunder storms filled nearby arroyos with fast moving muddy water which at one point crashed against the roadway before turning 90 degrees to seek a culvert. The road had just enough turns that we were able to avoid getting rained on. Sneaking between the huge blue-gray clouds became a gamble with cooler air as the prize.

At Gallup we turned left on I-40 and headed straight for another huge storm cloud. This one didn't get out of our way and as we rode into the leading edge, an overpass beckoned. Apparently we weren't the only ones looking for cover. Several vehicles were already using all the level ground so we pressed on into the dark pouring rain. Traffic was heavy with most vehicles opting for the truck lane. This left the inside lane available for passing. The roadway had water standing in many places and the spray from the semis was blinding. At one point a Ford Explorer appeared in the median with a panicked driver at the wheel. Hydroplaning was obviously a concern for some but didn't seem to be an issue for the motorcycle. Ten miles of rain and suddenly dry road. The wet apparel felt good in the 95 degree heat. I was glad we opted to ignore the rain gear.

The fourth tank of gas for the day brought us to Santa Rosa, about halfway between Albequerque and Amarillo. We had been passing remnants of the famous Route 66 all day. Billboards hawking restaurants boasted of authentic ties to the fabled road. Naturally, one such cafe was across the street from the hotel we chose for the night. The food was good, the memorabilia was predictably tacky. An early 60s T-Bird was parked outside with a fading coat of yellow paint over everything except the windows. Obviously, not intended for close inspection. We had made fewer miles than we had intended due to numerous stops for photos, but all in all it was a good run from Montrose, Colorado.

Rockies Gold 2007 - Day 5

Having seen the Colorado Monument Road, I knew it would be hard to top. With so many routes to choose from and our last day before heading home we decided to head east on 50.

Frank, Don, Mikee and I headed east on highway 50 toward Gunnison. Along the way we found Blue Mesa Reservoir and stopped for the snapshot. Once in Gunnison we decided to take a less traveled road (135) north to Crested Butte for lunch.

The town is an artsy type of place with tourism the obvious sustaining industry. This is fine with me because like the rest of the area around Montrose, the scenery is free and the roads are appealing to motorcyclists.

Among the t-shirt and "paraphernalia" stores are scattered a wide offering of cafes and restaurants. There may be one that is a step up from uber-casual but I didn't notice one.

The Cowboy Saloon boasted BBQ and that is always a draw. Rustic would describe the interior. Framed exterior walls showed were unfinished and made of rough wood with the siding showing into the interior. The first three barstools nearest the entrance were western style saddles on pedestals. The staff was likewise laid back, yet efficient. The food was good and in the cool mountain environment, hot sandwiches hit the spot.

Once again we consulted the maps and almost decided to go over the pass which had been opened for summer. After a discussion of wet dirt roads with some input from the waiter, we got bluffed out and decided to head back down to Gunnison.

Intermittent rain and several previous long days in the saddle helped us decide to retire early and prepare for the long ride home. We took the scenic Highway 50 back to Montrose and spent the afternoon resting up and preparing for the marathon trip home.

All in all our visit to Montrose had been too short. So many roads, so little time. There were many people attending whom I had intended to see, and never did. I knew from the roster there were folks I had met in Arkansas, Tennessee, and New York floating around but again, so many roads.

I will say this. Not a minute was dissappointing. This is one place everyone should visit. Good people, good food, spectacular scenery. I hope to bring Pam here someday.

Bighorn Sheep in Colorado

Rockies Gold 2007 - Day 4

Friday there was an open invitation to any of two hundred or so riders who showed up in Montrose to assemble at Dallas Divide for a group photo.

The previous evening we got together in two shifts to swap lies and eat Mexican cuisine at the Fiesta Guadalajara. Somehow the staff got everyone waited on efficiently. They must practice on tour bus loads of visitors. Speaking of staff, they were all friendly and accomodating. We pretended to understand their Spanglish and they pretended not to understand us.

Riders headed south in twos and threes, sometimes more. Along the way our little band encountered a landing hot air balloon.

When we got to the meeting place Toyo was directing traffic and Wingnutzz was supervising. The bikes lined up on the south side of the road and the riders stumbled around in the weeds on the north side. In the middle was Jim Morris (Wingit) snapping semi-official pictures of the event.

Trying to assemble a group of long distance motorcycle riders into something of a group for a photo is sort of like picking up marbles while wearing boxing gloves. Finally, most were cajoled into holding still for a photo which I think included an old couple who had stopped their PT Cruiser to look and were too afraid to leave.

The group dissassembled as quickly as it formed with people anxious to explore the mountains. I fell in with Frank, Don (Betthe) an Mikee. We planned to head to Utah and have alook at Arches National Park. We were joined along the way by Wayne and Kendra from Florida.

It was a hot ride but once again the scenery was worth it.

We cooled off at the visitor center for a while and got out the maps. We had intelligence that route 128 snaked along the Colorado river, then across the high desert to I-70 which would provide a shortcut to Grand Junction and another great road through the Colorado National Monument.

After gagging down thelast of the hot Gatorade we headed out again into the afternoon heat. We backtracked a few miles toward Moab then turned north after crossing the river. We were enjoying the views and the intermittent shade provided by the cliffs when I spied a sign that said the bridge was out 32 miles ahead - local traffic only. I blazed ahead, being in the lead, but started to wonder if it was good call. After a brief meeting we decided to continue. The road twisted and turned following the canyon and river with rises and blind corners and smooth pavement. Eventually we climbed out on the north rim and made our way to I-70. For some reason the road continues to turn even though there is nothing but lumpy desert for miles in all directions.

Heading east on I-70 we somehow skirted just around the edge of a blue/black rainstorm with lightining dropping out of its edges. With the storm behind us Wayne took the lead and we headed for the Colorado Monument.

We arrived at the Park gat at 6:03 local time. The Park closed at 6:00 and the sign said proceed. Talk about perfect timing. We had the place to ourselves and the only thing to get in our way was the overlooks.

Evening turned out to be the perfect time for canyon viewing. At one turnout we looked down on almost a dozen Bighorn Sheep. The one pictured here put on quite a show, climbing around on the rocks.

The road was the best we had seen on the trip. If I could only ride one road in the area, this would be it. If I get another chance I will bring a camera and lunch and do some exploring on foot.

Speaking of lunch, that was our next destination. We had fooled around until dusk and decided to stop in Grand Junction at a little brewery/pub for supper. From there we headed back down the 60 or so miles to Montrose and some sleep. More later...

Rockies Gold Slideshow

Rockies Gold 2007 - Day 3

Our first official day of Rockies Gold 2007. Dave Turley had suggested a number of routes for us tourists to enjoy so the first order of business was to decide which way to go. The road to Durango an Cortez looked good so we headed out.

Frank needed a camera so we stopped at the local Walmart Where he promptly got in way over his head. In a nutshell, he bought a bargain digital and wound up taking it back and buying a better one that had a viewfinder the next day.

The trip to Durango was spectacular. (I'm going to risk overusing that word). The first 3o miles to Ridgeway are unremarkable, then suddenly you enter the Uncompahgre National Forest with a brown river on one side and rocky outcroppings on the left.

The canyon gradually narrows until you arrive in Ouray, a quaint little tourist town in the south end of a box canyon. The highway is carved out of the cliffs at the edge of town and you can look back down on the tops of the buildings as you zig-zag your way up the slope.

Continuing south you pass steep gorges, waterfalls, a short tunnel, an avalanche shed and of course more beautiful scenery.

With so many photo opportunities, there is a genuine risk of overload. The rest of the ride through the mountains was just as beautiful but for a motorcyclist the ride was just as inviting. Traffic was light and the sweepers and tight turns were plentiful. A light rain started to fall which turned into a toad strangler before we got back down to Durango. Going up the switchbacks the rain accentuated the oil slick left by someone ahead. With no guard rails and corners hidden by rock walls, it was time to use extra care. We were reminded of the grade by the acrid smell of burning brakes. This stretch of road is not to be missed.

Once we finished the winding descent and arrived in Durango, the rain storm was behind us and temperature were in the 90s. But it was a dry heat. Our wet clothes were dry again and we were sort of missing the rain. Not for long. As we turned north again out of Cortez the red rocks closed in on us and thundersorms once again threatened. We stopped near a pass south of Telluride for a shot of a rock. The clouds parted and the rain held back long enough for a picture.

We skipped the side road to Telluride proper and opted for the 20 minute wait for construction on the main road instead. Road construction is liable to be encountered anywhere in the mountains and usually entails waiting for a caravan cautiously sidling by gaping dropoffs where half the roadway is somewhere much farther down the canyon than it is supposed to be. At any rate, as we sat absorbing the drizzle, we had time to discuss the roads and the prospects of making it back to Montrose in time for the 5:00 seating at the Fiesta Guadalajara.

Once we were underway again it looked like we would be on time - that is until we encountered the second road closure. This one involved one way traffic and a mudslide. The crews were working on the source of the mud but did not seem interested in the mile or two of red goop covering both lanes beyond the slide site.

We slipped and slid down the hill and finally reached a point where the ooze was able to find its way to a culvert or some other escape route. The steady rain kept the mud in a consistency somewhere between toothpaste and vaseline. It was a relief to find the cutoff to Ridgeway and back to town.

We arrived in town just in time to go directly to the restaurant where our tablemates were able to enjoy the rare ambience of two motorcylists who had spent the day on the road in torrential downpours, 95 degree heat, and a couple of miles of mud road. I felt like I was back in Alaska.

More to follow...

Rockies Gold 2007 - Day 2

The second day of our trip found us anxious to continue west. Partly in anticipation of finally getting into the mountains, and partly to put some distance between us and last night's accommodations.

We were on the road at 5:40. After a brief stop for gas we headed toward Denver on I-76. Unfortunately it would be a while before the scenery would become interesting. Miles and miles of low rolling hills with sparse patches of brush were all we could see. Once in a while we would spot something on the road that resembled a small brown fur coverd tortilla. Close examination revealed tire-flattened, sun-dried, remains of the little rodents that seemed to be forever on the wrong side of the highway. Gotta be a tough life between the traffic and the hawks.

As we approached Denver traffic began to increase until we finally came to stop somewhere on the north side of town. The delay was temporary and soon we were on I-70 climbing quickly into the Rocky Mountains. It was literally an figurativey like a breath of fresh air. We were suddenly surrounded by nature's grandeur and man's executive mansions perched on every available ledge.

I-70 winds through some of the most engaging scenery in the west. With light to medium traffic, it was challenging to keep focused on the road with beautiful landscapes around every corner. The sky was bright blue, the mountains were dark tan with pine trees poking out here and there. Between the earth and sky white fluffy clouds lined the peaks like whipped cream on top of chocolate ice cream. Which reminded me - no breakfast this morning.

We pulled in at Silverthorne for lunch at Wendy's. Even the fast food places have a good view. We made our phone calls and started out again. It wasn't long until we had to stop for another photo opportunity.

Dillon Reservoir provided an opportunity to stretch our legs and take a break before pushing for the finish line at Montrose. We had decided to do an IBA Bun-Burner since we only had another 300 or 400 miles to qualify.

The roads were so much fun on a motorcycle, we didn't stop often. After going through an especially long tunnel I noticed my GPS had locked and would not reset. We stopped just short of Glenwood Canyon for some adjustments. My riding buddy Frank, always the technophile, finally took a time out from fiddling with his own GPS and consulted the paper map.

Glenwood Canyon was spectacular. Again we were torn between trying to capture the scenes on film and enjoying the curvy roads that seemed to be designed for riders. The riding won and we made our way through the narrow canyons and along the upper Colorado River to the high desert of Garfield County. Once out inthe open we fell in behind a BMW sedan and a late model Corvette who led us toward Grand Junction.

We turned south at Route 141 and intercepted US 50 for the rid down to Montrose and the Rockies Gold 2007 gathering. One last stop for gas in Delta and we were there. Over 1623 Honda miles in under 36 hours. We found William Bunt of Divide, CO who agreed to sign us in at the Black Canyon Motel, officially completing the ride.

We had already checked in at the Comfort Inn up the street so after meeting and greeting for a while we retired for some overdue rest until the next day's rides and dinner. More to follow...

Rockies Gold 2007 - Day 1

So Tuesday has finally arrived. It's off to I-94 and Zeeb Road near Ann Arbor to meet Frank Carpenter for a day's ride to Sterling, Colorado.

I arrived at location about 10 minutes early and saw Frank in the McDonald's parking lot. The gas station next door, where we were to officially start our "Ironbutt" ride was closed. After due consideration and an Egg McMuffin, the lights came on at the gas station and we got the necessary time-stamped receipts. Shortly after 6:00 a.m. we were on our way west.

There is not a lot I can say about our first day. I have come to the conclusion there is little chance of the Unites States running out of corn or dead skunks in the near future. The Midwest is the price a traveler pays to see the rest of the country.

The first highlight of the trip was lunch and gas at the Iowa 80 Truckstop in Walcott, Iowa. Billed as the world's largest truck stop, a must see for shut-ins and people who want to add to their collection of truck themed Zippos.

Since we were on a mission, we hurried through the lunch line at Wendy's and then started to , gas up. Within moments, Frank broke his glasses. After a brief, unproductive search around the gas pump for a missing screw about the size of an atom, we opted for plan B. I found a small piece of tiny wire that fit through the screw holes in the glasses frame. We fitted the lens back in place and twisted the wire until the hinge barely moved, clipped off the excess with a leatherman and back on the road.

We were getting about 200 miles per tank and this was our 3rd fill up, a little after 11:00 CST.

Continuing accross the vast source of all Corn Flakes, we finally got into Omaha, Nebraska. As we threaded the maze of off ramps, road construction, farm trucks, tourists, and shredded truck tires, I kept an eye out for the famous Omaha Steak. Never saw one. Once past the hectic city, I glanced down at my newly installed GPS and one of the saddest things in recent memory. The little gizmo read: Turn left in 308 miles.

The rest of the day was as uneventful as the morning. We ground steadily westward and finally turned left on US-76 toward Sterling, Colorado. We found Officer Rusch at the Sterling Police Department who was willing to witness our arrival at 9:37 Mountain time (11:47 Eastern) thus officially qualifying for an Ironbutt (1000 miles in 24 hours) ride.

Prior to tracking down a witness, we had started the search for a hotel. Apparently Sterling is a destination for travelers as the only place we could find was a smoking room at the Super 8. The clerk had a voice like Sonny Barger and an indifferent attitude. The room smelled like a pair of old Army socks which had been marinaded in road kill. We kept the lights off and crept into our beds. The next day beckoned. We were loooking forward to some 3D terrain. To be continued...

New Shoes

With a little over 40,000 miles on the clock it seemed like a good time to inspect the brake pads. The timing was good because one of the four fronts was down past the wear lines. The rest still had the line but the depth was just enough to catch with a fingernail.

Rockies Gold is coming up which means about 1300 miles each way plus four days of riding the mountain roads aroud Montrose, Colorado.

No use trying to squeeze any more miles out these pads.

To get the ball rolling, I consulted the trusty Clymer manual to see if there was any tips that would make life easier. There wasn't. One suggestion was to push the caliper housing inwards to shove the pucks back out of the way before removing the old pads. I tried this. It would have been easier to push a '57 Buick up Lombard Street.

I opted for plan B. Put away the manual and pull out the pin holding the pads in place. The pads dropped out without assistance as soon as the pin cleared. The micrometer showed only .05" at the thinnest part of the pad and .1" at the thickest remaining part. According to the book, minimum service thickness is .14".

The next challenge was to push in the brake pistons or pucks to make room for the new pads. Three pucks/pistons on each side. On the left side I was able to get the middle one to move with finger pressure. The upper and lower had to be convinced with a flat bladed screwdriver. All three on the right side had to be pushed in with a tool.

By the way, if you plan to do this job here are some of my tips:

• Take off the front brake reservoir cover
• Wrap the right handlebar area in plastic to catch any overflow
• Check the fluid level in the reservoir after pushing in each puck
• Only do one side at a time to avoid pushing too much fluid back into the reservoir
• When pushing in the pucks, do not pry against the disc

Anyway, the only hard part of the job was pushing in the pistons. Once they are out of the way, put the inboard pad in place, then the outboard pad, grease up the retaining pin and put it back together.

I did the left side first and before tackling the other side I squeezed the front brake to reseat the pistons against the new pads. This allows the brake fuid in the reservoir to go back down so you have room to do the right side. It is even more important to keep an eye on the reservoir level as you do the second side. You have raised the pre-existing level by putting in thicker pads on the first side.

The rear brake pads are still pretty thick so I'll probably wait to change them at 80,000 miles.

The only thing left to do was a test ride. I squeezed the front brake until it was hard and hit the street. Everything was great until I decided to stop fast and used both brakes. I forgot all about the linked brake stuff and of course the rear pedal went to the bottom. A couple of quick pumps and it is back. I am pretty light on the rear brake unless I really need it and from the looks of the pads, that is what is expected by the engineers. The left side was only slightly more worn than the right.

If you have a goldwing and have 40K on it, I'd suggest taking a look at those pads. And the link I included is the cheapest OEM set I could find. Good luck.