1 It started with an indicator... Wed Apr 28, 2010 8:12 am
Guest
Guest
Two days ago whilst riding to work, my daily grind which I enjoy immensely, I pressed right to turn right and the dash indicated left. I cancelled it and pressed right again and the dash lit up both indicators. I made a mental note that it had happened, thought about the battery's charge level, about the turn indicator relay, a loose connection(?). A brief flash in the nether recesses of my head suggested that the starter hadn't been attended to in a long while, then I enjoyed the next fifteen kilometres of winding, two lane country roads, no turn signals necessary.
After a busy day I donned my gear and pulled on my helmet, surveying the otherwise blue sky to the East for a bit of rain cloud the weather bureau's radar site suggested I might encounter on my ride home. I twisted a glove onto my hand then swung a leg over, hit the starter button and got a whir, but no K-Bike whine. I pulled in the clutch lever and hit the button again...whir, click, click. Off I got from the saddle and with a quick tug at the side covers I could see the battery connections were tight and the dash lights bright. Click, click. I snicked the bike up into top gear and gave the rear wheel a coupla gentle whacks backwards in case the clutch sprag had an attitude, switched on the key and hit the starter button. The olde faithful fired and settled into a steady idle. But the headlight didn't light, the indicators didn't flash, and the bike idled eagerly along. I climbed back on and rode home in an inquisitive mood, puzzling over the many possibilities in my head until I had satisfied myself I'd settled on the heart of it. The battery was at 12.5 volts at rest upon my arrival home after a twenty K ride.
A dog's age ago I had pulled the tiny but powerful starter out when it suddenly didn't turn the solid lump of a motor over. The diminutive orbiting moon wasn't pulling the larger planet's tide as expected and required. I'd discovered a mass of accumulated carbon from the brushes had clogged up the works. I hosed it down with contact cleaner and carefully reassembled it, making a note to order a brush set from my regular spares supplier who's overseas in a galaxy far, far away. Then I rode many kilometres to me heart's content. The brushes arrived with a load of other parts later on. I shelved them and continued on in rider's bliss.
Tonight, under the warm glow of a brilliant Southern Cross full moon (you've all gotta see one of those in your lifetime) I slid the box of electrical spares down from the high shelf and found the ND brush set where I'd stashed it. I'm good at stashing things. I've got bits 'n' pieces right where and when I need 'em. Up went the seat, out came the ECU and the excellent 20amp sealed Yuasa battery (Damn, I'm missing two of those rubber gunbarrel mounting bushes and don't have any spares. Doh!), and off came the coil cover. I extracted the starter, quite hot to the touch, and twisted out the long phillips head screws. The pieces came apart in my greasy hands and I laid them out on the workbench. Yes! One of the brushes was down to the limit, and a fair bit of dusty carbon was drifting down to the floor as I shook the motor. After a clean up and fiddly re-fit of those blasted brushes (has anyone noticed the caged brush holders are now backwards from original leaving the brushes to fight against an easy re-installation due to their openings now facing the copper surface of the starter's windings?). I need a Guinness. Are multiple chocolate-thick Guinness then referred to as Guinni? I digress.
With some sweet music from Paul Kelly pushing through speakers and the satisfaction of an empty glass behind me I refitted the components and made sure all connections were tight and any errant wires tucked up out of the way. Oh, and I pulled the alternator's brush pack out just to clean it up a bit and have a squiz at their overall condition.....less than halfway to go, so time for a new set. I jotted down the Bosch number since I work in the automotive bidness and might possibly be able to source a less expensive replacement from the local parts shop tomorrow. With a snug on the battery leads and a twist of the key, the dash lit up, the headlight glowed, and the indicators showed me some amber sunshine. I hit the button and a most familiar and resounding thrum occurred as the Mighty-K settled into an even idle. I turned it off and re-tested it several times. Lights, action, success!
Now I've now got the Yuasa SmartShot 900 gently tickling the battery alive for the night. It's time to go inside. There's another half to my life that also needs some gentle attention. I'll wash me hands first. All's right in my little world. Good night.
After a busy day I donned my gear and pulled on my helmet, surveying the otherwise blue sky to the East for a bit of rain cloud the weather bureau's radar site suggested I might encounter on my ride home. I twisted a glove onto my hand then swung a leg over, hit the starter button and got a whir, but no K-Bike whine. I pulled in the clutch lever and hit the button again...whir, click, click. Off I got from the saddle and with a quick tug at the side covers I could see the battery connections were tight and the dash lights bright. Click, click. I snicked the bike up into top gear and gave the rear wheel a coupla gentle whacks backwards in case the clutch sprag had an attitude, switched on the key and hit the starter button. The olde faithful fired and settled into a steady idle. But the headlight didn't light, the indicators didn't flash, and the bike idled eagerly along. I climbed back on and rode home in an inquisitive mood, puzzling over the many possibilities in my head until I had satisfied myself I'd settled on the heart of it. The battery was at 12.5 volts at rest upon my arrival home after a twenty K ride.
A dog's age ago I had pulled the tiny but powerful starter out when it suddenly didn't turn the solid lump of a motor over. The diminutive orbiting moon wasn't pulling the larger planet's tide as expected and required. I'd discovered a mass of accumulated carbon from the brushes had clogged up the works. I hosed it down with contact cleaner and carefully reassembled it, making a note to order a brush set from my regular spares supplier who's overseas in a galaxy far, far away. Then I rode many kilometres to me heart's content. The brushes arrived with a load of other parts later on. I shelved them and continued on in rider's bliss.
Tonight, under the warm glow of a brilliant Southern Cross full moon (you've all gotta see one of those in your lifetime) I slid the box of electrical spares down from the high shelf and found the ND brush set where I'd stashed it. I'm good at stashing things. I've got bits 'n' pieces right where and when I need 'em. Up went the seat, out came the ECU and the excellent 20amp sealed Yuasa battery (Damn, I'm missing two of those rubber gunbarrel mounting bushes and don't have any spares. Doh!), and off came the coil cover. I extracted the starter, quite hot to the touch, and twisted out the long phillips head screws. The pieces came apart in my greasy hands and I laid them out on the workbench. Yes! One of the brushes was down to the limit, and a fair bit of dusty carbon was drifting down to the floor as I shook the motor. After a clean up and fiddly re-fit of those blasted brushes (has anyone noticed the caged brush holders are now backwards from original leaving the brushes to fight against an easy re-installation due to their openings now facing the copper surface of the starter's windings?). I need a Guinness. Are multiple chocolate-thick Guinness then referred to as Guinni? I digress.
With some sweet music from Paul Kelly pushing through speakers and the satisfaction of an empty glass behind me I refitted the components and made sure all connections were tight and any errant wires tucked up out of the way. Oh, and I pulled the alternator's brush pack out just to clean it up a bit and have a squiz at their overall condition.....less than halfway to go, so time for a new set. I jotted down the Bosch number since I work in the automotive bidness and might possibly be able to source a less expensive replacement from the local parts shop tomorrow. With a snug on the battery leads and a twist of the key, the dash lit up, the headlight glowed, and the indicators showed me some amber sunshine. I hit the button and a most familiar and resounding thrum occurred as the Mighty-K settled into an even idle. I turned it off and re-tested it several times. Lights, action, success!
Now I've now got the Yuasa SmartShot 900 gently tickling the battery alive for the night. It's time to go inside. There's another half to my life that also needs some gentle attention. I'll wash me hands first. All's right in my little world. Good night.