Southern style
Last few years I've used the Burt as a sort of excuse to take a wee ride back home. I was down there again a couple of weeks ago, with the Buell, but this time the beastie failed to perform completely faultlessly. Oh it gobbled up the south’s best roads with the same flawless aplomb it has in the past, but there was a slight mechanical issue.
We’d just left Wyndham, en route to Te Anau when I felt a certain... vagueness down at the back there. Buells are accused of a few things but vague isn’t usually one of them, so a mere mile or so out of town I pulled over to investigate. The rear wheel bearing was fookt. All of the wee balls usually employed to keep the inside bearing bits in the correct proximity to the outside bits were missing in action. Fook, thinks I, that happened quick, no real warning. It’s also more than a little inconvenient, I thought.
By this time the brother had navigated the GS1200A back to find out how bad the news was. Together we managed to justify riding the XB back to Wyndham, very very carefully. This we managed, in spite of the belt jumping and the constant nagging feeling that I was fucking my best rear wheel. The brother went off one way around the still active circuit looking for good places to stash a Buell for the night and I went the other. He found the best, having remembered Wyndham Engineering open and serving sausages to the throng.
The proprietor, a man of few words, nonetheless managed to convey to the brother an offer comprising of full access to his reasonably well equipped workshop. The Buell was trundled through the pits and down to the workshop rear door. Divested of luggage and plastic the problem remained, clearly and persistently... a fookt rear wheel bearing. Right. Having made the acquaintance of the fine gentleman I was further assured I was to feel free to avail myself of any of the workshops facilities. Cool, the brooding grumpiness that sometimes goes hand in hand with things broken brightened in the face of such generosity.
"What bearings are they?" He said. "Don’t know, said I, probably nothing weird, 600mumble I should think." "Good chance I’ve got them here, then", said he. Right. Chock the bitch up and pull the wheel... Pull the axle... Oops, there’s a fair bit of alloy swarf lurking in there. Secret and arcane engineer-type secret tricks are applied to remove both bearings. Bit of a clean up reveals that the alloy shavings aren’t symptomatic of a catastrophic failure, the hub is slightly scuffed up but not in the critical bearing contact areas. But bugger, the spacer tube is slightly distorted at the end. Feeling guilty for annoying the man again, I asked if I could ransack his scrap heap for material. "Oh no, there’s a bit of alloy tube in the rack over there that’ll do that, help yourself." "Ah... and they’re 6008s", I say. "Oh, right, should be a few on the shelf over there."
Bloody mint. Right, chop off a bit of tube, 5 min in the lathe and that’s done. Both bearings pressed back in... perfect. Half an hour to tidy up the mess and reload and I track the man down again. "Cheers very much mate, what do I owe you?" "Oh nothing, thanks, you’d help me out if it was the other way around eh?" I eventually managed to pay for the bearings, but that was it.
The south is different, always was. Hardly an epic tale, I’d be the first to admit. It’s just good to go home sometimes, and find things as you remembered. Oh, and if you find yourself in a position to do something for Wyndham Engineering then do it eh?
Let me know.
Go soothingly on the grease mud, as there lurks the skid demon
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Originally Posted by Ocean1
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