Maxed out Maxim

 

I like working on almost any kind of engineering build or repair projects, but for some reason I particularly enjoy motorcycles. It's possibly the inherent romanticism that is assigned to them in our culture, the open road, the individualism, the freedom, and so on.

I like fixing them better than I like riding them, though. I feel the same about aircraft and sports cars.

I decided earlier this year that I would do another one. The last one was in 2009.

My new project turned out to be a 1983 Yamaha XJ650 "Maxim." These were considered big boy bikes when I was a serious motorcycle user, back in the early 1980s. Four cylinder, shaft drive, electronic ignition. Technologically, they were top of the line for their times. They came in several styles on the same frame and engine. Street bikes, easy rider-style 'choppers",  another type with modern-looking square headlights, these were the styles I remember. 

I often wanted to ride one, but never did. 

I never wanted to own one. I still don't. If I decided to own a motorcycle permanently, it would be an old British twin or single, a BSA, Triumph, Norton, Ariel, Matchless, something like that. These '80s Japanese bikes are easy to start, nice to ride, but kinda bland, if you know what I mean. Like a Mercedes 4X4 instead of an old Land Rover. No personality.

I got the Maxim -- after a few days shopping FacePlant and Craigslist and the old standby, Uncle Henry's, for the "right" project -- from an older car mechanic who lived in a trailer park in Bangor. He was a nice enough guy and threw in an old rototiller and a chainsaw for me to play with too. I can make a little extra-cash on these kinds of things, although I'm not great at keeping track of the expenses, so I tend to lose out when I declare my profits on my taxes because I forget about some wildly expensive part I had to put in.

The great advantage with small mechanical projects is that I can work on them with an hour here and twenty minutes there, so they don't detract from my real full-time job as Dad.

I'm not sure why the guy wanted to unload the bike, but I was a little disappointed in the end. I was hoping for something to get my teeth into, but once I got it home I had it firing later that afternoon and running sweetly the next day. 

There were two issues: 

1) The guy swore he had kept the battery charged up all winter and was proud of this. Sure. He had. But in doing so he'd boiled away about a quarter of the acid. 

And...

2) He said he had the bike running sweetly a year or so ago. But he hadn't. This was impossible to believe. The needle valve on number 1 cylinder was loose in the float bowl. As soon as you turned the motor with the starter, allowing gas to flow into the carb from the vacuum-operated gas cock, gas piddled out of the back of the carb. There's no way a bike engine would run well with the needle valve loose in the float bowl.

So we topped up the battery and gave it a short overcharge to restore the oxidized lead plates a little, refitted the needle valve, gave it a spritz of starter fluid, and, hey presto, the bike started, coughed a little, then settled down and ran sweetly.

If our guy in Bangor had actually known what was wrong with it, he could easily have had the bike running at the point of sale and so sold the bike for at least twice what I paid him.

There was a slight issue just after the battery was refitted when, due to a momentary mistake in handling my jump starter machine, the battery quite spectacularly blew five of the six little red bungs on the 2 V cells and they went flying! 

Note to self: bike batteries only need the 40 amp starter setting, not the 200.

But I usually use the machine for cars and tractors and was on autopilot. 

Afterwards I was only able to find four of the five. But I cut the tip off the plastic cap to a caulk tube and bunged that in the one empty hole instead.

"She'll do a trip."*

And she did. You can see the test drive in the previous post. Runs like a top. I can't claim any great skill was necessary. The last motorcycle I did, way back in 2009, took most of a summer to get ready and even then wasn't finished when I sold it right before school was due to start. (Here, here and here)

I'm awaiting the arrival of four little rubber boots used to connect the carbs to the cylinder head. For some reason the ones on this bike are covered in grey goo, most likely JB Weld. I think this was an effort to prevent air leaks through cracks in the rubber, but considering you can find new ones online for $25, it was a silly way to go about fixing things. There are signs that this and other repairs were attempted not by the guy I bought it from, but the previous owner, who obviously was a kid. The residue on the tank, for instance, where "go-faster" stickers were added. The u-shaped brake handle. The missing sissy bar. The missing center stand. (Reduced weight for speed?) The noisy aftermarket mufflers.

There's a couple such bits missing yet to await from eBlag: Side cover plates, center stand, right hand rear view mirror, and brake handle. Haven't shopped for the sissy bars yet.

Then I'll have to sell it. Anyone need a nice motorcycle?

(* Royal Air Force slang quote for an aircraft that will fly after BDR: "battle damage repair.")