Wickedfinger
02-16-2006, 09:42 PM
Some may find this long and boring - this wasn't meat for your eyes then ...........
There's nothing like waiting to the last possible minute to make repairs to something before you intend to use it.
I woke up on Saturday around 10am or so from working late the night before and don't get motivated to out of the house until 3pm. I know that this supposed blizzard is bearing down on us and that riding out in the snow on an ATV is one of my favorite things to do in life. I literally live for it, counting the days until winter. So far this season has been a big dud - no snow for over 60 days and winters running out fast. My main ride is a '00 Polaris Scrambler 400 four-wheeler and it isn't running right now due to a leaking head gasket (parts on order). I also know my back up '83 YT175 three wheeler isn't running either and I don't know why. Being a procrastinator with little time lately for projects, I decided that I would be able to get the YT running like a top and maybe have time to swap out the whole front end assembly and mount a new set of Moose handle bars with new controls, all before the heavy snow is supposed to hit around 5pm. So in typical fashion, I roll over to my parents house, where I keep the YT, a little after 3pm, just as the flakes start falling. Plenty of time ......
The YT hasn't run since it died on me shortly after replacing the K&N cone filter the previous owner had mounted to the carb, with a stock air-box set up. When I asked him if he had "up-jetted" the carbs main jet to compensate for the increased airflow of the open filter, the former owner/knuckle head replied "Um, what?". Thankfully he hadn't run it that way for more than a few quick spins, so I wasn't too worried about a torch-ed piston from too much hot burning oxygen in the fuel mix.
As I open the shed, I notice right off the bat that the trike has two flat rears .... uggg, I forgot my pump at home and there isn't one to be found. So I decide to just try and get her running first. Crap, no fresh fuel or pinger oil either. ..... A few pointless pulls for giggles and to my amazement ....... nothing. Figured as much. I quickly deduce that its not an electrical problem by electrocuting myself while testing the spark plug cable with a screwdriver to the frame for spark. I know that the guy I bought it from had said that he was running pre-mix in the tank - but that the injector was also working (Brilliant fellow I tell you). I wondered aloud to no one in particular "Huh, although it defys what I know about 2-stroke theory, I guess it was somehow running OK with all the extra oil from the injection system because of the accidental increased airflow from the K&N - when I swapped it out for the restricted air-box - too rich, no runny". So I remove the sparker to take a look at the tip - wet, but not too bad. A little starter fluid should do the trick ..... humm starter fluid .... yep, forgot that too. The snow started to fall just a little bit harder. Did I mention that I was working on this little yellow screamer in my folks driveway since both garages were occupied with cars?. I decided it was time to hit the road for parts.
In a black Durango, 5 miles north of Morrisville Pa, heading southwest.
"OK - checklist, I need: starter fluid, a couple of spark plugs BP7ES, 2.5 gal can of Exxons finest 92 octane, any quart TC-3 or eqivellent pinger oil, I don't care, bicycle pump, and something to eat, you're starving. I decide to loop over to the auto-parts store to get the plugs first. As I pull into the parking lot I realize that for some reason, right here where the A-Z auto parts place had been for countless eons now sits a shinny new, I'm sure Indian run "Dollar" store. So much for the American dream. Off to PepBoyz and more wasted time. Predictably, the brilliant kid manning the counter asks me "for what kind of vehicle?" I tell him its for an old three wheeler. He says "I wont have that in our system". I say "I know you won't have it in your system, thats why I have the NGK number - BP7ES". "Our system wont let us find it without a vehicle - and that particular vehicle is not not in our system". Without choking him I ask him to see the Autolite cross-ref book sitting on the shelves behind him. I find the matched plug within seconds - and order him to find me two before I kill him.
Same black Durango, Langhorne Pa - heading northwest.
The fuel pick up should go smoothly and as I turn into the parking lot - Screech ... "what the.....". It seems every other ass in the county has waited to the last minute to get fuel too. So I park the truck behind some yenta in a BMW and wait. Then the thought occurs to me that this gas station has a mini mart/ Subway sandwich shop - get a Sub and check off the eating part of our list. I run in, order, run out, move the car ahead, run back in, sandwich not ready, run out, move car to gas pump. I leave the truck running and start to fill the jerry can when I hear this shrill voice come from the next lane over "Are you crazy leaving your truck running while you fill it with gas - you're going to blow us all up!". "Lady chill out - I'm not filling my truck up with gas - I'm filling this can up and .....". "You need to read the pumps buddy - it says TURN ENGINE OFF WHEN FILLING TANK OR RISK OF FIRE". I answer back with "But ma'am this is an SUV, not a TANK". She didn't see the humor. The snow is falling harder now and I swear I catch a glimps of something red and trike like flash past ...... I run in, get the sandwich, run out and drive away before I blow the joint up.
Durango, near the boarder of Langhorne and Yardley Pa.
Wiping the crumbs off of my shirt, I swing by the house without anything really notable happening and pick up the Pump, Havolines finest .99c 2-stroke oil and Starter fluid. I make a mental note that there isn't much fluid left in the can and that I should have gotten a new one at the not so PeppyBoyz.
Five miles and five minutes later, I'm back at the "rents" house. My whole trip has cost me over one hour of "wrench time". I need to get to work and fast - the snow is coming down so much that the grass is now covered - and I still don't know whats wrong with this engine. I gap a new plug and spray some ether directly into the combustion chamber, via the plug hole. I deftly replace the plug and wire, then give the pull starter a good tug ...... we have ignition ..... then cough, sputter .... off. I repeat this cycle four or five times, with the motor running just a little bit longer between crap outs, when I run out of starter fluid. Pissed at myself for obvious reasons, I resolve to get her running, without the fluid and pop open the air-box to take the filter off for free air. I grab the pull cord and on the very first yank - snap. I broke the rope. 15 minutes and 1500 curses later, with the cord re-strung, I'm ready to have at it again. Somehow, 217 pulls and one shredded arm later, the beast chokes to life .... and stays running. SUCCESS!!!!!!!.
Now at this point I should just cut my losses, hedge my bets, run from harm while there's still time ... etc, and just ride her as she is - but no. I somehow figure that I actually still have enough time to swap out the entire front end with the new, unbent one, before it gets too dark out and too snowed in. It shouldn't take too long, you've done quite a few before with little difficulty. Just a straight forward, bolt and nut job. Besides - how great would it be to ride in this coming white wonderland with a 100% good riding machine. Sure its drivable now with the slightly bent fork assembly - but - who wants just drivable - we demand excellence!.
The snow was falling faster and harder than ever before, A dad closely follows his young son who is driving a youth ATVon the road in front of my folks.
The front end actually came off without a hitch and in record time. I was able to catch (most) of the little BB bearings out of the neck as it slid apart and I know the good front end had a full set, neatly shipped in a small plastic bag. While I was pleased with this, I was also unexplainably worried about something ... something that I was forgetting, something that was a essential ingredient to making a bearing work smoothly, something like ....... "GAWDDANGFLUGMANGFLUFFER!!!!!!!!! ..... you don't have any grease, stupid!". "AWE FOR PETES SAKES!!!!!!!".
Durango, 2 miles north of Morrisville Pa, snow piling up ... fast.
Sears Hardware is staffed by the B-Team today. I can see it their lost, blank stares - the kind of look those of us in retail know all too well. Its the look of "Its snowing out and I really don't want to be here". I ask the first two drips I see "Wheres the grease?." (just like the old Burger King commercial). "What kind of grease, Sirrrrr...?". "ANY" I reply. With that the two tell me at the same time "GARDENAUTOMOTIVE". They start to argue about whether its in garden or automotive. I leave them to their spat and head over to automotive. All they have is white lithium grease .... gonna have to do. As a bonus, I pick up a new can of Go-fluid - sweet. At the register, the blue hair in front of me is confused and asking the punk kid manning the register what the difference is between the three different kinds of Ice Melt salts they have. Predictably, he dosent have a clue and answers her with - "I don't have a clue". Painfully, I realize that the only way I'm getting out of here is to explain it to her myself and I intercept the cashier from calling for a manager to do so. My plan fails miserably and I find myself wishing I just let the manager handle it. "So which one did you say wouldn't hurt my sidewalk again sonny?". Of course, she pays with a check. Outside I see a truck with a brand new ATV, heading off to ride without any issues - the snow is relentless - like the sands of time falling, building up into a fine white carpet of fluffy fun, which I am missing.
Mostly White Durango, snow makes it difficult to actually say where I am - but I think its still Pennsylvania.
Back at my folks and back to work with fading light and billowing snow. I smear a layer of grease onto the lower bearing races of the forks center stem. If you've ever ridden a bicycle, then you are familiar with the forks and how they work - a three wheeled ATV's steering is no different. With nearly frozen fingers, I reach into the bag containing the new, loose, round BB bearings and promptly drop them all into the snow. No curses this time, just a sigh. With the help of a refrigerator magnet, I rescue most of the bearings from their icy tomb, place them into the grease where they are held safely from moving or falling out and mount the forks. Now, you would expect me to say that the rest of it probably went back together with great difficulty and much hardship ..... well that wasn't the case but I'll say so anyway. God was it awful. The only real difficulty I had was with remounting the front brake - when I took it out, the shoes came unglued from their backing - putting them back in was a fruitless exercise in frustration ...... ah, who uses their front brake anyway?. The last parts I had to mount on the forks were my new OEM headlight unit with Shroud, fresh from a way too expensive eBay auction. I searched my truck in vain only to come to the sickening conclusion that ..... yep ... I left them at my house, 5 miles away. The snow is now blinding. In the distance, I hear small bore motors racing down an unknown road.
Formally Black Dodge Durango, 5 miles west of Yardley Pa.
As I run back down the stairs with the Headlight in my hand, my wife asks me "How was the riding?." I didn't know whether to laugh, cry or melt into a puddle of insanity and just race back into the white abyss without answering her.
All White Durango, parked in the all white driveway of my parents home, in all white Yardley Pa.
As I tightened the last of the front ends headlight bolts I looked over to the spot where I had left my shiny, new, yellow Moose Racing handlebars. I couldn't see them, but I knew they were somewhere under the blanket of pure white. All of my shiny, tools were under there too, waiting to rust into "not so shiny". I then looked back at the slightly twisted, chrome bars on the YT - "We demand excellence" ran through my head once again, but I subliminally told myself to "screw off". After a long pause, I looked at the nearly black sky, looked at the all white ground then muttered "AWE EFF IT". It was when I started to unbolt the bars from the trike, that, that old sinking feeling began to overcome me again. It wasn't long before I realized that all the older controls on the trike were of the type that you slide on the ends of the bars, then clamp,then mount your grips. I really didn't think it mattered - I had purchased two new brake perches with levers, so I wasn't going to use the old ones. The new perches are split so you can mount them over the bars and clamp them tight. I had received the new Moose bars and a pack of Hurricane grips a few weeks earlier, and as usual, I mounted up the grips right away. The way I mount my grips is to fill them with rubbing alcohol, which acts as a lubricant that also softens and expands the rubber. After you slide them on and the alcohol evaporates, the grips shrink tightly onto the bars, making them extremely hard, if not impossible to get back off . That was my undoing - While I had new brake levers - I had to use the original thumb throttle and the only way to get that mounted to the new bars was to take the new grip off and slide it on. After alot of cursing, pleading, begging, selling my soul and praying to no-one in particular all at the same time, I somehow manage to get the grip off by "rolling it " over itself. Getting it back on after mounting the throttle is another story. Its now literally rolled up in an inside-out ball and I don't have a clue of how to get it right-side out. At this point my father walks out of the house to see what I'm up to. After watching me silently for about 15 minutes, trying various pliers, fingers and even toes in my futile effort to right the grip, he finally chimes up and says "Why don't you just roll it back on?" ...... and walks back in the house. The roar of the snow is deafening as a pack of wild snowmobiles scream by.
I was almost there, almost ready to join the now overflowing throngs of thrill seekers out blasting through the snow. All I had to do now was hook the brake cables into the new levers, fire her up and go. Seconds away from my lifelong, insatiable obsession of snow riding. I'm giddy as a school girl inside, beaming from ear to ear. As I go to drop the cable end into the lever slot, its not quite wide enough and it the stops it from seating. Just a little too small. No problem, I'll just widen it a fraction with a flathead screw driver and it'll pop right in. I put the driver head in, apply the slightest pressure and - ping - I break off a piece of the alloy lever, making it useless other than a decoration. Its OK I tell myself, thats the front brake lever - the brakes not working right any way because of the pad problem. Calmed, I move on to the second lever and cable for the rear brake. Deja Vu strikes all over again - the cable is close, but wont fit all the way in without widening the slot. This time, determined not to repeat the previous blunder, I decide to add a little heat to the lever before I bend it out, and grab a torch out of my dads plumbing kit in the garage. Gripping the lever in pliers I ever so lightly apply the white hot flame of the torch to the slot area - and promptly melt the made in China, soft aluminum lever into tin can heaven. Amazingly calm, I tell myself - "Self, its still alright ...... you just tuck both of those now useless cables into the handlebars because you still have the rear foot brake and everythings going to be fantastic".
The snow is howling, the sky is pitch black - but this time, its my turn to ride .......
I quickly don my carhart overalls, helmet, and gloves and head over to the mighty YT. I briefly consider getting the can of starter fluid out of my truck - but - somehow things feel different. I think shes going to fire right up. Viewing the events of the past several hours, it really has no right to - but - again, I feel things are different. I pull out the choke knob, turn on the gas, turn the bars to the side like I was taught to years ago and give the pull starter a stiff yank. BRRRAPPP BRAP BRAP BRAP BRAP. I laugh like a mental patient and mount the trike. One last thing to do, its dark out - turn on the light or you'll never be able to see where you're going, making it impossible to ride. With a flick of the switch - let there be light ........ for a second, then ...... blackness again. frantically, I jiggle the switch and wires to see if its a bad connection - nothing. I pour over the wiring harness, looking for anything in vain that might be loose - nothing. Sadly, I felt Mr. Murphy tap me on the shoulder and say "You didn't think I was going to let you off that easy - I burned your new bulb right out". That was the last straw. I had finally had it. Beaten and left for dead. Realizing that it just wasn't meant to be and beside myself with anger and sadness, I turn the trike off and push it slowly into the shed. With a heavy heart, I trudge through the now half foot of snow to my Durango for the last time and turn the key. For some reason though, a little voice said "Look in the back seat". With nothing left to lose, I do as instructed. My eyes take a moment to focus, but as they do, they fall on two things: A roll of duct tape and my old, trusty 4D, 3 mile-er MAGLITE flashlight. After staring for probably a minute, I let out a grunt and get to work.
The snow is all encompassing
After 2 solid hours of non-stop, skidding, sliding, drifting, racing - open snow road joy, low on fuel, I finally pull back into my parents driveway, exhausted but happy. People all over the township might be talking about the goofy, 6 tall, moron who looks like some three year old on steroids riding an oversized tri-cycle with a giant flashlight obnoxiously duct taped to the top of his helmet - but I don't care ....... I had just been to my heaven on earth. My father is out in the driveway and greats me with "Perhaps next time you can wait even longer, maybe until after the storm has melted away into memories, to get that thing running.". He is of course wrong.
The End.
There's nothing like waiting to the last possible minute to make repairs to something before you intend to use it.
I woke up on Saturday around 10am or so from working late the night before and don't get motivated to out of the house until 3pm. I know that this supposed blizzard is bearing down on us and that riding out in the snow on an ATV is one of my favorite things to do in life. I literally live for it, counting the days until winter. So far this season has been a big dud - no snow for over 60 days and winters running out fast. My main ride is a '00 Polaris Scrambler 400 four-wheeler and it isn't running right now due to a leaking head gasket (parts on order). I also know my back up '83 YT175 three wheeler isn't running either and I don't know why. Being a procrastinator with little time lately for projects, I decided that I would be able to get the YT running like a top and maybe have time to swap out the whole front end assembly and mount a new set of Moose handle bars with new controls, all before the heavy snow is supposed to hit around 5pm. So in typical fashion, I roll over to my parents house, where I keep the YT, a little after 3pm, just as the flakes start falling. Plenty of time ......
The YT hasn't run since it died on me shortly after replacing the K&N cone filter the previous owner had mounted to the carb, with a stock air-box set up. When I asked him if he had "up-jetted" the carbs main jet to compensate for the increased airflow of the open filter, the former owner/knuckle head replied "Um, what?". Thankfully he hadn't run it that way for more than a few quick spins, so I wasn't too worried about a torch-ed piston from too much hot burning oxygen in the fuel mix.
As I open the shed, I notice right off the bat that the trike has two flat rears .... uggg, I forgot my pump at home and there isn't one to be found. So I decide to just try and get her running first. Crap, no fresh fuel or pinger oil either. ..... A few pointless pulls for giggles and to my amazement ....... nothing. Figured as much. I quickly deduce that its not an electrical problem by electrocuting myself while testing the spark plug cable with a screwdriver to the frame for spark. I know that the guy I bought it from had said that he was running pre-mix in the tank - but that the injector was also working (Brilliant fellow I tell you). I wondered aloud to no one in particular "Huh, although it defys what I know about 2-stroke theory, I guess it was somehow running OK with all the extra oil from the injection system because of the accidental increased airflow from the K&N - when I swapped it out for the restricted air-box - too rich, no runny". So I remove the sparker to take a look at the tip - wet, but not too bad. A little starter fluid should do the trick ..... humm starter fluid .... yep, forgot that too. The snow started to fall just a little bit harder. Did I mention that I was working on this little yellow screamer in my folks driveway since both garages were occupied with cars?. I decided it was time to hit the road for parts.
In a black Durango, 5 miles north of Morrisville Pa, heading southwest.
"OK - checklist, I need: starter fluid, a couple of spark plugs BP7ES, 2.5 gal can of Exxons finest 92 octane, any quart TC-3 or eqivellent pinger oil, I don't care, bicycle pump, and something to eat, you're starving. I decide to loop over to the auto-parts store to get the plugs first. As I pull into the parking lot I realize that for some reason, right here where the A-Z auto parts place had been for countless eons now sits a shinny new, I'm sure Indian run "Dollar" store. So much for the American dream. Off to PepBoyz and more wasted time. Predictably, the brilliant kid manning the counter asks me "for what kind of vehicle?" I tell him its for an old three wheeler. He says "I wont have that in our system". I say "I know you won't have it in your system, thats why I have the NGK number - BP7ES". "Our system wont let us find it without a vehicle - and that particular vehicle is not not in our system". Without choking him I ask him to see the Autolite cross-ref book sitting on the shelves behind him. I find the matched plug within seconds - and order him to find me two before I kill him.
Same black Durango, Langhorne Pa - heading northwest.
The fuel pick up should go smoothly and as I turn into the parking lot - Screech ... "what the.....". It seems every other ass in the county has waited to the last minute to get fuel too. So I park the truck behind some yenta in a BMW and wait. Then the thought occurs to me that this gas station has a mini mart/ Subway sandwich shop - get a Sub and check off the eating part of our list. I run in, order, run out, move the car ahead, run back in, sandwich not ready, run out, move car to gas pump. I leave the truck running and start to fill the jerry can when I hear this shrill voice come from the next lane over "Are you crazy leaving your truck running while you fill it with gas - you're going to blow us all up!". "Lady chill out - I'm not filling my truck up with gas - I'm filling this can up and .....". "You need to read the pumps buddy - it says TURN ENGINE OFF WHEN FILLING TANK OR RISK OF FIRE". I answer back with "But ma'am this is an SUV, not a TANK". She didn't see the humor. The snow is falling harder now and I swear I catch a glimps of something red and trike like flash past ...... I run in, get the sandwich, run out and drive away before I blow the joint up.
Durango, near the boarder of Langhorne and Yardley Pa.
Wiping the crumbs off of my shirt, I swing by the house without anything really notable happening and pick up the Pump, Havolines finest .99c 2-stroke oil and Starter fluid. I make a mental note that there isn't much fluid left in the can and that I should have gotten a new one at the not so PeppyBoyz.
Five miles and five minutes later, I'm back at the "rents" house. My whole trip has cost me over one hour of "wrench time". I need to get to work and fast - the snow is coming down so much that the grass is now covered - and I still don't know whats wrong with this engine. I gap a new plug and spray some ether directly into the combustion chamber, via the plug hole. I deftly replace the plug and wire, then give the pull starter a good tug ...... we have ignition ..... then cough, sputter .... off. I repeat this cycle four or five times, with the motor running just a little bit longer between crap outs, when I run out of starter fluid. Pissed at myself for obvious reasons, I resolve to get her running, without the fluid and pop open the air-box to take the filter off for free air. I grab the pull cord and on the very first yank - snap. I broke the rope. 15 minutes and 1500 curses later, with the cord re-strung, I'm ready to have at it again. Somehow, 217 pulls and one shredded arm later, the beast chokes to life .... and stays running. SUCCESS!!!!!!!.
Now at this point I should just cut my losses, hedge my bets, run from harm while there's still time ... etc, and just ride her as she is - but no. I somehow figure that I actually still have enough time to swap out the entire front end with the new, unbent one, before it gets too dark out and too snowed in. It shouldn't take too long, you've done quite a few before with little difficulty. Just a straight forward, bolt and nut job. Besides - how great would it be to ride in this coming white wonderland with a 100% good riding machine. Sure its drivable now with the slightly bent fork assembly - but - who wants just drivable - we demand excellence!.
The snow was falling faster and harder than ever before, A dad closely follows his young son who is driving a youth ATVon the road in front of my folks.
The front end actually came off without a hitch and in record time. I was able to catch (most) of the little BB bearings out of the neck as it slid apart and I know the good front end had a full set, neatly shipped in a small plastic bag. While I was pleased with this, I was also unexplainably worried about something ... something that I was forgetting, something that was a essential ingredient to making a bearing work smoothly, something like ....... "GAWDDANGFLUGMANGFLUFFER!!!!!!!!! ..... you don't have any grease, stupid!". "AWE FOR PETES SAKES!!!!!!!".
Durango, 2 miles north of Morrisville Pa, snow piling up ... fast.
Sears Hardware is staffed by the B-Team today. I can see it their lost, blank stares - the kind of look those of us in retail know all too well. Its the look of "Its snowing out and I really don't want to be here". I ask the first two drips I see "Wheres the grease?." (just like the old Burger King commercial). "What kind of grease, Sirrrrr...?". "ANY" I reply. With that the two tell me at the same time "GARDENAUTOMOTIVE". They start to argue about whether its in garden or automotive. I leave them to their spat and head over to automotive. All they have is white lithium grease .... gonna have to do. As a bonus, I pick up a new can of Go-fluid - sweet. At the register, the blue hair in front of me is confused and asking the punk kid manning the register what the difference is between the three different kinds of Ice Melt salts they have. Predictably, he dosent have a clue and answers her with - "I don't have a clue". Painfully, I realize that the only way I'm getting out of here is to explain it to her myself and I intercept the cashier from calling for a manager to do so. My plan fails miserably and I find myself wishing I just let the manager handle it. "So which one did you say wouldn't hurt my sidewalk again sonny?". Of course, she pays with a check. Outside I see a truck with a brand new ATV, heading off to ride without any issues - the snow is relentless - like the sands of time falling, building up into a fine white carpet of fluffy fun, which I am missing.
Mostly White Durango, snow makes it difficult to actually say where I am - but I think its still Pennsylvania.
Back at my folks and back to work with fading light and billowing snow. I smear a layer of grease onto the lower bearing races of the forks center stem. If you've ever ridden a bicycle, then you are familiar with the forks and how they work - a three wheeled ATV's steering is no different. With nearly frozen fingers, I reach into the bag containing the new, loose, round BB bearings and promptly drop them all into the snow. No curses this time, just a sigh. With the help of a refrigerator magnet, I rescue most of the bearings from their icy tomb, place them into the grease where they are held safely from moving or falling out and mount the forks. Now, you would expect me to say that the rest of it probably went back together with great difficulty and much hardship ..... well that wasn't the case but I'll say so anyway. God was it awful. The only real difficulty I had was with remounting the front brake - when I took it out, the shoes came unglued from their backing - putting them back in was a fruitless exercise in frustration ...... ah, who uses their front brake anyway?. The last parts I had to mount on the forks were my new OEM headlight unit with Shroud, fresh from a way too expensive eBay auction. I searched my truck in vain only to come to the sickening conclusion that ..... yep ... I left them at my house, 5 miles away. The snow is now blinding. In the distance, I hear small bore motors racing down an unknown road.
Formally Black Dodge Durango, 5 miles west of Yardley Pa.
As I run back down the stairs with the Headlight in my hand, my wife asks me "How was the riding?." I didn't know whether to laugh, cry or melt into a puddle of insanity and just race back into the white abyss without answering her.
All White Durango, parked in the all white driveway of my parents home, in all white Yardley Pa.
As I tightened the last of the front ends headlight bolts I looked over to the spot where I had left my shiny, new, yellow Moose Racing handlebars. I couldn't see them, but I knew they were somewhere under the blanket of pure white. All of my shiny, tools were under there too, waiting to rust into "not so shiny". I then looked back at the slightly twisted, chrome bars on the YT - "We demand excellence" ran through my head once again, but I subliminally told myself to "screw off". After a long pause, I looked at the nearly black sky, looked at the all white ground then muttered "AWE EFF IT". It was when I started to unbolt the bars from the trike, that, that old sinking feeling began to overcome me again. It wasn't long before I realized that all the older controls on the trike were of the type that you slide on the ends of the bars, then clamp,then mount your grips. I really didn't think it mattered - I had purchased two new brake perches with levers, so I wasn't going to use the old ones. The new perches are split so you can mount them over the bars and clamp them tight. I had received the new Moose bars and a pack of Hurricane grips a few weeks earlier, and as usual, I mounted up the grips right away. The way I mount my grips is to fill them with rubbing alcohol, which acts as a lubricant that also softens and expands the rubber. After you slide them on and the alcohol evaporates, the grips shrink tightly onto the bars, making them extremely hard, if not impossible to get back off . That was my undoing - While I had new brake levers - I had to use the original thumb throttle and the only way to get that mounted to the new bars was to take the new grip off and slide it on. After alot of cursing, pleading, begging, selling my soul and praying to no-one in particular all at the same time, I somehow manage to get the grip off by "rolling it " over itself. Getting it back on after mounting the throttle is another story. Its now literally rolled up in an inside-out ball and I don't have a clue of how to get it right-side out. At this point my father walks out of the house to see what I'm up to. After watching me silently for about 15 minutes, trying various pliers, fingers and even toes in my futile effort to right the grip, he finally chimes up and says "Why don't you just roll it back on?" ...... and walks back in the house. The roar of the snow is deafening as a pack of wild snowmobiles scream by.
I was almost there, almost ready to join the now overflowing throngs of thrill seekers out blasting through the snow. All I had to do now was hook the brake cables into the new levers, fire her up and go. Seconds away from my lifelong, insatiable obsession of snow riding. I'm giddy as a school girl inside, beaming from ear to ear. As I go to drop the cable end into the lever slot, its not quite wide enough and it the stops it from seating. Just a little too small. No problem, I'll just widen it a fraction with a flathead screw driver and it'll pop right in. I put the driver head in, apply the slightest pressure and - ping - I break off a piece of the alloy lever, making it useless other than a decoration. Its OK I tell myself, thats the front brake lever - the brakes not working right any way because of the pad problem. Calmed, I move on to the second lever and cable for the rear brake. Deja Vu strikes all over again - the cable is close, but wont fit all the way in without widening the slot. This time, determined not to repeat the previous blunder, I decide to add a little heat to the lever before I bend it out, and grab a torch out of my dads plumbing kit in the garage. Gripping the lever in pliers I ever so lightly apply the white hot flame of the torch to the slot area - and promptly melt the made in China, soft aluminum lever into tin can heaven. Amazingly calm, I tell myself - "Self, its still alright ...... you just tuck both of those now useless cables into the handlebars because you still have the rear foot brake and everythings going to be fantastic".
The snow is howling, the sky is pitch black - but this time, its my turn to ride .......
I quickly don my carhart overalls, helmet, and gloves and head over to the mighty YT. I briefly consider getting the can of starter fluid out of my truck - but - somehow things feel different. I think shes going to fire right up. Viewing the events of the past several hours, it really has no right to - but - again, I feel things are different. I pull out the choke knob, turn on the gas, turn the bars to the side like I was taught to years ago and give the pull starter a stiff yank. BRRRAPPP BRAP BRAP BRAP BRAP. I laugh like a mental patient and mount the trike. One last thing to do, its dark out - turn on the light or you'll never be able to see where you're going, making it impossible to ride. With a flick of the switch - let there be light ........ for a second, then ...... blackness again. frantically, I jiggle the switch and wires to see if its a bad connection - nothing. I pour over the wiring harness, looking for anything in vain that might be loose - nothing. Sadly, I felt Mr. Murphy tap me on the shoulder and say "You didn't think I was going to let you off that easy - I burned your new bulb right out". That was the last straw. I had finally had it. Beaten and left for dead. Realizing that it just wasn't meant to be and beside myself with anger and sadness, I turn the trike off and push it slowly into the shed. With a heavy heart, I trudge through the now half foot of snow to my Durango for the last time and turn the key. For some reason though, a little voice said "Look in the back seat". With nothing left to lose, I do as instructed. My eyes take a moment to focus, but as they do, they fall on two things: A roll of duct tape and my old, trusty 4D, 3 mile-er MAGLITE flashlight. After staring for probably a minute, I let out a grunt and get to work.
The snow is all encompassing
After 2 solid hours of non-stop, skidding, sliding, drifting, racing - open snow road joy, low on fuel, I finally pull back into my parents driveway, exhausted but happy. People all over the township might be talking about the goofy, 6 tall, moron who looks like some three year old on steroids riding an oversized tri-cycle with a giant flashlight obnoxiously duct taped to the top of his helmet - but I don't care ....... I had just been to my heaven on earth. My father is out in the driveway and greats me with "Perhaps next time you can wait even longer, maybe until after the storm has melted away into memories, to get that thing running.". He is of course wrong.
The End.