Well, as I said, I have a couple of would be motorcycles. They sat around for a while before I got my hands on them and then, because I was busy and in school (and broke), they sat around for around two more years. I'm fairly certain that they'll run after some serious TLC, but right now they have abandonment issues and are scared to let themselves be loved again. I get that.
So, what I have is a 1982 650 Honda Nighthawk, and a 1980 650 Honda Hawk. For the most part they are the same bike except for some minor differences in the frame and engine setup. I've been focusing on the '82 since it's more or less complete. I picked up a couple of parts and have done a ton of internet research on how to make this grumpy old bastard run again (no literally, a metric ton, I mean it! There's a pile of 1's and 0's on the floor of my living room. Fine, fuck, don't believe me).
After some serious electrical (face palm #1) bullshit, (did I mention I'm a Mechanical Technologist, not an electrical guy?) I finally got the old fucker turning over. Oh, just in case you haven't picked up on it, I'm gonna call it names until it actually starts, I'm nice and sensitive like that. Ok, back to turning over, The engine turns nice and smoothly, the starter is strong, each plug has spark at the right time and the compression is good. I know lots of gear head speak, blah, blah, fucking blah... I stand there thinking why the fuck won't this thing fire? So I pull the carbs and have a look. No gas. Dang (face palm #2)... I know what you're thinking, Yes, there is gas in the tank, and yes it's getting into the carbs. I should mention I've had them off and cleaned them up real good once already, or so I thought (face palm #3). I find out the issue is the jets are clogged, fuck.
Alright, I've now solved the clogged jets issue, back to trying to start this grouchy son of a bitch (ya, I know, more name calling). Carbs back on the bike? Check. Battery hooked up? Check. Gas in the bike and carb? Check. Key on, switched to run? Check. Let's do it. At this point I feel like Gru from 'Despicable Me' (I watch kids movies sometimes, is that a problem?), I'm all excited, I think it's going to go, I thnk it's going to be awesome, I push the starter button, it turns, it sort of pops on a couple cylinders, and then a loud pop. My leg is wet, I smell a lot of gas, and no more pops. So I look down and see and feel that I've actually blown a fuel line fitting. The best part is it's buried nice and deep in the carbs so I have to rip the whole thing apart to get at it (face palm #4). Fuck it. I've had enough abuse (did I mention this is 'fun' for me?), I'm going to drink...
- Josh M.
- I have a pile of loves. I love my family and friends (how could I not?) like most reasonably well adjusted people. And anyone who knows me, knows I'm probably not as well adjusted as I should be, but where's the fun in that? I love food, ‘well prepared, fill you up to the point of exploding, but make you think about another helping’ good food! I love to BBQ and grill. I love machines and motorcycles. I have a couple of bikes. To be fair, I'm not sure if I'm allowed to call them motorcycles yet. They're being stubborn and won't run, yet... And I love trying to make something my own. I also love to rant on occasion (sometimes frequently) and every once in a while I love to write some shit down. I'm sure I have a lot of other things that I love, but this is a good start. I may not be interesting to some, but others may enjoy following me. Here's my journey through food, a bike build and all the shit in between. I call it as I see it and say what I think needs to be said. If that bugs you, you're probably too fucking sensitive anyway. I'm not sure where this is going, but I hope it's somewhere good. In the end it's all about laughing out loud at least once every day.