I had an odd dream last night and it’s so odd that I’m actually writing about it.
It was a recollection of an incident I may have buried in my head probably for decades.
When I was around 15 – 16 years old I was coming home from school. I got off the jeep too early out of habit because I usually spend time in my grand parent’s house so I had to walk a few extra blocks to get home.
On the way home I passed a street where a bunch of kids my age who didn’t like me saw me and started throwing rocks at and chasing me. I still remember looking to my left startled because I actually felt the wind off of a stone passing the left side of my head.
They basically chased me around three streets, hurling what they could at me and swearing as loud as they could. It was in the middle of the afternoon and I suddenly remembered every footstep of my shoes on the pavement, every time I looked back grabbing my knees panting in exhaustion checking if they were still there, only to run again because they were.
Last January 16, 2015, a Friday, was a holiday on account of the Pope’s visit, so I decided to take a little trip.
So here’s the latest on the S90. I have decided to shelve it after it has been confirmed that the parts I bought were mostly wrong or not any good – particularly the frame and tank. Otherwise everything else is usable.
But here’s the thing – even before I confirmed this I was already wavering on my continuing the project for two reasons. After my experiences with Leslie I had started to learn a lot more about what I like about restoring things in the first place, and it turns out that a.) I like the actual restoration process, including sourcing parts, studying service manuals, talking to like minded people and such and b.) I like to ride. I like riding per se, I like to take it places and I love the feeling of the open road – a constant phrase you will hear amongst many motorcycle owners.
On the other hand, I DO NOT WANT A GARAGE QUEEN. I do not want a machine that after I restore will just sit in my garage while I use something else most of the time. It seems a terrific waste to have something I worked on so hard to just sit idly and that’s exactly what’s going to happen if I continued the project.
After the rebore on Leslie I needed to address another much older problem, acceleration hesitation and occasional stalling. It is a terrible problem because just when you need good acceleration such as when you’re trying to do a u-turn on the highway before a car comes it would suddenly sputter and die. It made me feel like throwing it off a bridge.
So I decided to finally spring for a new carburetor (P4,700.00).
My mechanic confirmed what I suspected which was that Leslie’s engine was eating oil. I could here the rocker arms clicking louder than usual indicating that oil wasn’t getting to it and it was also spewing out white smoke like a 2 stroke. A top overhaul was necessary so that meant a new piston, piston rings and valve seals (the valves were still ok). The piston below showed the worst of it, streaks of metal hitting metal.
Why is it we set seemingly difficult, unnecessary goals for ourselves? Is it because we find the idea of pursuing it romantic? Does it serve as some form of reverie, something that allows us to escape the day’s challenges so that we can instead think of this lofty goal and find pleasure in finding a way towards achieving it?
I ask because yeah that’s exactly what’s happening because for some odd reason I have decided that I want to drive to the Philippine Pali (Highest Point) in the Philippine Highway System at Benguet. And not just get there, but get there using either of my two small motorcycles.
pic from here.
Made an activity board for Ace! Here’s the large white board getting painted white.
Bunch of tools and items I would be putting on it.
Below are the items from Leslie that I will have sandblasted and powdercoated to black again before rust ensues. Clockwise from the left is the license plate holder, the ‘sub cross plate’, and the muffler stay.
The S90 swingarm will be joining them as well.