Catbird
DT250 epidemic - Patient Zero
Storytime. I wanted to post this earlier but we've had SEVERE internet issues due to flooding, and my father has been the only one with internet access due to his government-issued cellular modem.
I've mentioned to a couple of you guys that we have a good stock of parts for the DT250s, which makes repairs and modifications much less of a chore. I recently found out at the worst time possible that one of the engines was not so good, and that its seller, Woodbine Cycle Salvage, is also not so good.
Monday. ROugh day, family melodrama. Last place on earth I wanted to go was work dealing with a positively asinine assistant store manager, so I left a little early to take a long route to work on this bike.
I was being tailgated by some jerkoff in a Mercury Marauder because apparently my decision to go 60 in a 50 zone about to slow down to a 45 zone simply wasn't fast enough for him. Kind of irritating, but I wanted to get my smokes from the gas station to calm badly frayed nerves, so I was *not* about to make a scene by driving aggressively, especially on a 20hp dual-sport that I knew was probably running on borrowed time.
SUddenly the engine seizes up in a manner that would indicate a catastrophic main-bearing failure, sputters a little, and gives off a death rattle. Strange drag force in the gearbox, rear tire locks for a split second.
My front end goes into a wild shimmy, and I manage to stabilize it by rear-braking hard and clutching.
THe good news is that I managed to keep it upright until I came to a complete stop in the ditch on the side of the road, at which point I fell over because my legs were Jello and I'd narrowly averted voiding my bowels.
THe kind soul behind me does what any reasonable person would do. He blares his horn and passes in my lane as soon as I start to shift toward the shoulder. Because I obviously only do this sort of thing to piss people off. I hope his children put him in a really shitty nursing home.
The bad news is that the case is pretty well knackered inside. Won't stay in neutral or in gear, it just does whatever it wants. I have no idea what's bad because I wanted to put a new engine in pronto and get my little toy back in operating shape for in a few days when I finally want to ride again.
THe probably-good-but-not-certain-yet news is that I still don't know just how well made my I2X jacket or new Vega helmet are, but I'm sure glad I was wearing them anyway.
THe day after, I opened up a crated engine sold by Woodbine Cycle Salvage. I'm obviously not the kind to let that fucking horse have its way after I fall off, even to a fault.
THis is the first time I've opened the crate at this point because my father didn't want me to take it apart and lose or damage parts or make a mess in the garage unnecessarily. Understandable.
ENgine was sold as in good shape, complete except for the shift lever and the cover over the flywheel. Advertised SPECIFICALLY as having good compression.
So I uncrate this thing, on what happens to be the day immediately after the last day to file a complaint on eBay or PayPal. I wonder where I get my procrastination habit from.
Lo and behold, the flywheel is totally corroded. The stator plate is totally seized to the flywheel, and the piston is totally seized to the cylinder. The engine was at one point totally filled with water, as the insides were completely filled with orange rust once I was able to un-stick the piston and get the head off.
Riddle me this:
How the fuck do you measure compression in an engine that won't turn over because it is essentially a solid, frozen-up block...?
My father sends the guy a message saying basically that we were unsatisfied because the engine was not capable in any way of generating compression, let alone good compression, and asking of there was anything at all (Including an explanation) that the guy could offer.
The response was basically, "My son is a lawyer and I consider your message threatening."
I hesitate to call him a gentleman, but that's the most professional term I can come up with at this point.
I will be posting transcripts of the E-mail exchange between my father and the seller shortly.
Bottom line:
I'm feeling massively grumpy right now because the last week has felt like God's gift to motorcyclists and I'm stuck in a fucking 14 city-MPG cage with bum brakes and holes in the floor big enough to put your fist through because of a passive-aggressive seller ripping me off.
I've got my remaining stock of parts inventoried and I'm trying to figure out if I have everything I need to assemble one full motor in 100% condition. I think I do, but I have yet to dig through electronics to verify what I have, and I have to match pistons to cylinders.
It's not like I'm in a position to just move on. The motor cost me $100 and was intended specifically for this exact situation I find myself in, and I don't exactly have the resources to just go buy another. Not to mention, all the while I'm not riding the bike, I'm dumping liquid paycheck into my car's gas tank.
Again, E-mail transcripts are forthcoming.
I've mentioned to a couple of you guys that we have a good stock of parts for the DT250s, which makes repairs and modifications much less of a chore. I recently found out at the worst time possible that one of the engines was not so good, and that its seller, Woodbine Cycle Salvage, is also not so good.
Monday. ROugh day, family melodrama. Last place on earth I wanted to go was work dealing with a positively asinine assistant store manager, so I left a little early to take a long route to work on this bike.
I was being tailgated by some jerkoff in a Mercury Marauder because apparently my decision to go 60 in a 50 zone about to slow down to a 45 zone simply wasn't fast enough for him. Kind of irritating, but I wanted to get my smokes from the gas station to calm badly frayed nerves, so I was *not* about to make a scene by driving aggressively, especially on a 20hp dual-sport that I knew was probably running on borrowed time.
SUddenly the engine seizes up in a manner that would indicate a catastrophic main-bearing failure, sputters a little, and gives off a death rattle. Strange drag force in the gearbox, rear tire locks for a split second.
My front end goes into a wild shimmy, and I manage to stabilize it by rear-braking hard and clutching.
THe good news is that I managed to keep it upright until I came to a complete stop in the ditch on the side of the road, at which point I fell over because my legs were Jello and I'd narrowly averted voiding my bowels.
THe kind soul behind me does what any reasonable person would do. He blares his horn and passes in my lane as soon as I start to shift toward the shoulder. Because I obviously only do this sort of thing to piss people off. I hope his children put him in a really shitty nursing home.
The bad news is that the case is pretty well knackered inside. Won't stay in neutral or in gear, it just does whatever it wants. I have no idea what's bad because I wanted to put a new engine in pronto and get my little toy back in operating shape for in a few days when I finally want to ride again.
THe probably-good-but-not-certain-yet news is that I still don't know just how well made my I2X jacket or new Vega helmet are, but I'm sure glad I was wearing them anyway.
THe day after, I opened up a crated engine sold by Woodbine Cycle Salvage. I'm obviously not the kind to let that fucking horse have its way after I fall off, even to a fault.
THis is the first time I've opened the crate at this point because my father didn't want me to take it apart and lose or damage parts or make a mess in the garage unnecessarily. Understandable.
ENgine was sold as in good shape, complete except for the shift lever and the cover over the flywheel. Advertised SPECIFICALLY as having good compression.
So I uncrate this thing, on what happens to be the day immediately after the last day to file a complaint on eBay or PayPal. I wonder where I get my procrastination habit from.
Lo and behold, the flywheel is totally corroded. The stator plate is totally seized to the flywheel, and the piston is totally seized to the cylinder. The engine was at one point totally filled with water, as the insides were completely filled with orange rust once I was able to un-stick the piston and get the head off.
Riddle me this:
How the fuck do you measure compression in an engine that won't turn over because it is essentially a solid, frozen-up block...?
My father sends the guy a message saying basically that we were unsatisfied because the engine was not capable in any way of generating compression, let alone good compression, and asking of there was anything at all (Including an explanation) that the guy could offer.
The response was basically, "My son is a lawyer and I consider your message threatening."
I hesitate to call him a gentleman, but that's the most professional term I can come up with at this point.
I will be posting transcripts of the E-mail exchange between my father and the seller shortly.
Bottom line:
I'm feeling massively grumpy right now because the last week has felt like God's gift to motorcyclists and I'm stuck in a fucking 14 city-MPG cage with bum brakes and holes in the floor big enough to put your fist through because of a passive-aggressive seller ripping me off.
I've got my remaining stock of parts inventoried and I'm trying to figure out if I have everything I need to assemble one full motor in 100% condition. I think I do, but I have yet to dig through electronics to verify what I have, and I have to match pistons to cylinders.
It's not like I'm in a position to just move on. The motor cost me $100 and was intended specifically for this exact situation I find myself in, and I don't exactly have the resources to just go buy another. Not to mention, all the while I'm not riding the bike, I'm dumping liquid paycheck into my car's gas tank.
Again, E-mail transcripts are forthcoming.