While driving through Ohio recently, we stopped in at a Harley-Davidson
dealership. As with all those dealerships, there are lots of parts in
plastic shrink-wrap, and every accessory one can imagine. There were several
folks shopping and I looked closely at them -- leather loafers, polo shirts,
buzzed haircuts -- nothing like any of the guys I ever rode with. I took
a good look at all that shrink-wrap stuff too -- four bolts for $17.95
- extra if you want the washers and nuts, two tire valve stem covers for
$34.95 -- it went on and on. Each thing a little more pricier than the
one before it. Even the cheapest t-shirt was $17.95 on clearance.
I thought a little bit about some of the items which we'd used to build
the Triumph, and had to grin. I can't recall anything being in shrink-wrap,
but we did buy a new battery, new points, and a new solo seat. Other than
some miscellaneous stainless steel nuts and bolts (bought at the local
hardware store), I think John and I (well, mostly John) made just about
everything else.
What follows is a short course on using regular household items to build
a motorcycle. These lessons I learned very well. They were all using things
I knew something about! We were in my territory now, and I excelled!
Beer
Cans - While installing the exhaust pipes to the engine block, we found
one of them had stripped threads. No amount of clamp tightening would
keep it sturdy and without wobbling. The answer was empty beer cans, which
we had plenty of lying around. Using tin snips, I cut the top and bottom
off two Coors Light cans. Now I had two nice flat pieces of lightweight
aluminum. Next, I cut them lengthwise into 1/2-inch strips. John placed
all these pieces on the exhaust opening (looking like one of the flowers
that stick out from the paper that you make in kindergarten class), pounded
the pipe into place, tightened the clamp and then cut off the excess aluminum.
Presto. A custom-fitted exhaust.
B-B's - There are lots of (expensive) products out there to clean old,
rusted gas tanks. Why spend $40 when you can buy a little cardboard tube
of B-B's (just like the ones you used to use in the b-b gun when you were
a kid) for less than two bucks? Empty them into the gas tank and shake
-- alot. Have the kids shake it, have their friends shake it. This is
especially nice for kids during those "there's nothing to do"
moments. Eventually, you untape the opening and shake out all those b-b's
and the rust and gunk comes rolling right out. Presto. A custom-cleaned
gas tank.
Plastic
Milk Jugs - Living where water is a precious commodity, we always have
a few dozen plastic milk jugs on hand. This proved to be an asset when
the condenser grounded out. Remember me telling you how tight a fit it
was for those points? Well, I guess it was just as tight as I thought,
because the bolt holding the condenser rested right against the housing,
grounding it out. The answer? Cut a 2-inch by 1/4" strip of milk
jug and slide it between the condenser and the outside rim of the compartment
holding the points. Presto. Working condenser.
Spit - Yes. Spit. It's one of those tools that guys have been using for
years, but I saw how well it worked firsthand just last week. John handed
me a length of spark plug wire and told me to attach the boot to the end.
It appeared to me that they were about the same size. The more I pushed,
the more the boot kinda collapsed on itself. I would just get it started
and it would stick and go no further. John rolled his eyes, grabbed the
wire and boot and spit on the wire. Yuck. Strings of spits rolling off
the wire looked pretty gross until I saw the boot slide right on with
no effort. Now, I was impressed. "Let me spit on the other one,"
I begged. Again, John rolled his eyes. I was like a kid learning a new
trick.
Shoe Laces - Ok. I'll admit this is probably something that doesn't get
used that much, but in this case it was necessary. The old one broke.
You see, the brake lever on the Triumph just swings. It's broken, so when
it's released, the lever swings all the way back to the handlebars before
it stops. Many years ago, John had used an old black shoestring to hold
the lever together. When I took the Triumph apart, the shoestring was
put into the box of parts. "Where the shoestring?" he asked,
as we put the brake lever together.
Upon tying the old string, it abruptly broke into from dry-rot. Luckily,
since this was my department, I immediately went to the junk drawer in
the kitchen and got a new black one. Presto. A working brake lever.
By
now, the War Pony was close to being finished. It was time to come off
the blocks. This was like one of those Kodak moments. Until I realized
that I couldn't find the spring for the kickstand.
The spring was needed to keep the kickstand in place and for it to automatically
retract when the bike's weight was picked up.
I asked John about where to find a spring, and of course, he gave me
his stock answer (number 77 by the way), "You'll figure it out."
He returned to the house and I went to the yard. I had just about enough
of these type of answers. I was even hearing that phrase in my sleep.
I decided it was time to confront him and went plowing through the front
door. Just as the screen door slammed behind me, I halted dead in my tracks.
I slowly looked behind me, and there, attached to the screen door was
a nice shiny heavy-duty spring. I grinned that sly grin (I learned it
from John) and slipped out to get the screwdriver.
Jan is a resident of West Virginia, the boss of Hawk Mountain Trading
and the webmaster of West
Virginia Bikers. To learn more about her, check out her biography
or visit her web site.