tear down

It wasn't long after this break down, when the owner of said Low Rider, called and invited me to come for the "tear down" of his vintage bike to ferret out the cause of its failure. He knew of my interest in "the way things work"; it didn't matter that I know nothing of motorcycle mechanics; but still I said "yes", happily so. Very motivated to see the inner works of this pre-fuel-injection Harley Davidson, I drove the 65 miles to the immaculate shop with my camera in hand. The scene felt very somber as the emaciated frame stood stripped of its trademark Vtwin engine with its vital parts exposed for diagnosis. The break down was caused by a couple of bad acting systems. There was air in the fuel line likely caused by a bad head gasket or a warped head... but why the power failure? A bad generator, most likely, sucked the new battery dry of power. Without electricity, the cylinders could not perform thus leaving us stranded with the disabled machine. As this bike has 33,000 miles on her, the owner opted to do a total tear down and re-tool all the original systems. I find it fascinating as it is so very simple a design and it all goes together so perfectly. No metric here so wrenching was easily accomplished with Craftsman tools for obvious fitting with a place for everything and everything in its place. To see it taken down to its "bones", it was hard to believe that this was once, and would again be, a powerful machine over the road. Watching the veteran mechanic, I marveled at his fluent knowledge of this classic chrome pony. He did his best to indulge my pre-novice questions with patient replies and showing the working details in each system. The machining of the metal parts was more precise than I could have imagined as components perform with surgical perfection. Hearing his presentation, my thoughts would drift to the 30 years-ago machinists and assemblers who worked with the same degree of accuracy as any brain surgeon would exhibit to save the patient. A witness to a rebirth of sorts as each component was taken off and cleaned and assigned to its own waiting place for reassembly, it was more interesting than the best picture puzzle one could ever hope to construct. I kept getting lost in the meditative ritual and found it nearly spiritual to participate in such an intimate process. I can see now, why so many Harley owners become emotionally engaged with their bikes. When it was time to leave, it felt like we were abandoning the once glorious ride. The owner, lugging the gas tank and a few other frame parts home for waxing, seeming to offer some mutual comfort for his trusty, iron friend by plying a little luv and shine for the trademark silhouette. With any luck, I'll be able to see the bike come back together in all her new gleam and glory... maybe get invited for a ride. peace ~ ell
this one is for the minds who could imagine such genius