Grizzle guts #1 here, Well in regards to the MT/POS bucket... I as you know have lost interest in it, but Stanko (the two stroke legend) said 'get ya arse out here and lets have one more look at it'
So in protest I loaded the POS up and headed for the sticks. Now with new piston etc and full electrics replacement it meant surely to christ it was the carb, so Stanko looked at is fine collection and muttered ene menie minie mo, and pointed at a sorry looking TZR. Parts of TZR went in all directions and Stanko biffed me a nice looking down draft carbie.
Now I had warned Stanko that I was on my last straw with this thing and as he started the transplant I went out the back yard and tidied up the bonfire, fully expecting that that was where the bike was going to end up.
We decided to use my jetting out of the old carb as a lot of time had been spent on sorting it with the bike going from a 200+ jet down to a 170, and considering the other 2 strokers in a similer state of tune were running 130-140 jets and the side line mechanics saying 'its too rich, its over fuelling its over fueling... go leaner go leaner go leaner'
With a glance over at the nicely piled bonfire thinking all it needs is a two wheeled little lucifer as a starter I ring ding dinged down the 1 k of drive to the sealed rd.
Under explicit direction from stanko to use 1/2 throttle I feed it the fat and within 200 meters the bike was up to its old tricks missing and surging... the cattle and sheep in the padocks were watching and I could see the fucking things sniggering to themselves and chatting between them "we could walk faster than that red shiter".
I headed back to base camp Stanko following me on his bucket, now I was starting to fume again thinking god damn fucking two strokers they are the devils spawn.
With me ranting and raving and looking for the matches Stanko said in his calm deep thinking voice "come on now lets not give up"
So I said "OK but this IS the last chance it gets" give me the smallest bloody jet you have... after a bit of dismantling one of his other bikes he said "don't have one" Well bugger it, I'll teach this bloody bike a lesson, hiff the hugest mother of a irrigation tap sized jet in it you have, so he did in went a 250 and the needle was set back to the half way mast.
With the Stanko bloodhounds (aint it funny what they say about a dogs looks and its owners) lining up along the fence and thinking this is going to be some funny shit the ginga is going to lose it this time as going richer is defying all symptoms I ring ding dinged down the drive again the horses looking rather smug at my stupid looking bike... lined up on the rd next to Stanko again and with the same instructions as before (as he wanted me to use the needle side of the carb 1st I wacked the taps open and dumped the clutch thinking if ya aint going to run right then I'm going to blow the sodding thing up... the bike lit up whellied out from under me leaving me standing there thinking... well ok seems to have more grunt than before, I decided to chase the bitch down the road and mounted it from behind like a cowboy leap froging it onto a horse... pounded on 2nd gear, 3rd, 4th 5th 6th... and held the tart taped out FARRRRRRRRK MEEEEEE felt the sound barrier pass me as I gave the cattle and sheep that were fast becoming blurs the thumbs up at full noise I just kept it pinned and at full noise the power never droped off, I felt like Burt Munro couped over his bike, 5k up the rd it turns to shingle and as I passed the 50yard warning sign I figgered OHHHH CRAP... through the anchors over board and managed to pull up 1m onto the shingle, looked behind me and thought were the hell is Stanko.
Did a U turn as Stanko rocks up saying "so is it any better" gave him the meh average hand wave and fucked off into the distance again leaving Stanko in a clowd a two stroke. With the local live stock running for cover (this bike is bloody loud) I slowed after keeping it pined to blast up the drive, on some what of a high, I laid a 1/2 way decent patch and shot back up the drive. The neighbours nags thinking stuff this and busting into a gallop they took me on opps not the brightest thing to do is spook the horses...
but too late one fucker a bloody large and fast bastard kept hauling arse along the fence line so I backed off, the bloody nag didn't slow and came to the end of its paddock... me thinking ohhhh crap thats their 50k price winning horse thats about to collide with the fence breaking all its legs.
I hope Stanko dosn't like his neighbours, either way I see a court case comming, the bloody thing leaped into the air like a 747 taking off... ohhh crap I didn't want to know were it was going to end up as the next object was a barn and Massy Ferg couldn't see it clearing that.
Anyway back in the work shop I said Thats the last time I ever listen to them so called race mechanics I set up pits with they had me going leaner and leaner till I wasted a piston 2 weeks ago now it was all making sence... the MT wanted MORE FUEL.
Packed up and said "fucking good day Stanko lets have a well deserved beer"... to which he replyed "I don't drink" ahhh crap win some lose some.
So look out FXR buckereers #68 is back with a vengence![]()
Shit look at the time 3:27, I'll sort my spelling out in the morning ok
PS: now too sort out grizzle guts #2... TonyB wee are ya? ohhh sleeping, well I can't all worried about getting this new Kat of mine home today from 200 odd km's south, considering it hasn't been ridden for 5yrs... I hope it holds together.
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