on the Verge of the Future

Sunday morning with a 3d
printer - I get a kick out of
making things work.

One of the best parts of my job is that I get to lay my hands on leading edge technology in order to figure it out so I can teach it.  I've always been an early adopter, if no no else has it I'm interested - more so if everyone else is afraid of it.  When most people didn't know that TVs had alternate inputs I had a home computer with a printer.  When everyone was crying about how fuel injection meant no one could customize their vehicles any more I was hacking the on-board computer and using it for diagnostics and more horsepower.

Nowadays it's all about how digital tools are making micro/bespoke manufacturing more possible.  Where once you needed an engineer, some machinists and a couple of hundred thousand dollars to build complex components, now you need twenty grand and a willingness to pick up some very easy to manage software.  The entry into machining your own, custom components has become much easier.

Not only are digital tools handing back basic production to individuals, they are also allowing companies to explore levels of precision in manufacturing that seem almost science fictional:

We've had 3d printers in the classroom now for a couple of years, and we find them invaluable for prototyping and even developing 3d thinking (not something students take to naturally).

I suspect the wedding-cake style melting-plastic-through-an-extruder 3d printer is an evolutionary dead end (there is only so much you can do to speed up a printing process that works around cooling plastic).  Fortunately, the next step has already happened:

... I'd love to get my hands on one of those.

Another building tool I'd like to try is a digital laser cutter.  Like other manufacturing tools, digital laser cutters have been tumbling in price.  Coming out this year is a desktop laser cutter called the Glowforge that'll introduce laser cutting, etching and fabrication to many more people.  At only about $4000, this undercuts previous industrial units by tens of thousands of dollars.

With this kind of technology available to many more people, I get the sense that the garage of the future will allow us to build things that only get churned out by factories at the moment.  When I'm at the point that I can custom manufacture and laser etch bespoke motorcycle hard parts and print my own fairings, I'll feel like my garage can keep up with my imagination.

A good guess might be the garage scene from Big Hero 6:

We're on the verge of escaping from the mass-production Twentieth Century.  One day you'll be telling your grand kids that we had to buy shoes that weren't custom printed specifically for your feet, and they won't believe you.

Recent advances in processing power and
optics mean VR is finally (after decades of
promise) arriving at a consumer level.

Last week I discovered that I'm going to be able to set up an HTC Vive in the lab.  We're doing it so we can better craft the 3d models we're building in Unity and Blender, but immersive simulation could offer a lot of opportunities in the classroom beyond 3d modelling.  The emotional impact on a student walking across Vimy Ridge the day after, or walking through Cambodia's killing fields, or standing on the Moon and looking back at the Earth, get me revved up about making VR work in the classroom.

From a motorcycling perspective, an immersive simulation of the MotoGP circuit on Valentino's bike would offer fans a new level of appreciation for the sport.  Preparing for an overseas ride by tasting the trip virtually first offer opportunities for safety preparation that simply don't exist right now, especially if you're trying to wrap you head around new signs and riding on the wrong side of the road.

We're on the verge of the future, and I get another taste next week, I can't wait!


3D printing

motorcycle 3d printing: http://3dprintingindustry.com/2015/08/03/motorcycle-3d-printing-picking-speed/

https://3dprint.com/65937/3d-printed-motorcycle/

http://www.stratasys.com/resources/case-studies/automotive/klock-werks

https://all3dp.com/3d-printed-motorcycles-know/

https://grabcad.com/library/128705


Virtual Reality

https://youtu.be/-Sd3wXNjLtk

http://motorbikewriter.com/victory-motorcycle-virtual-reality/

http://www.lifebuzz.com/virtual-motorcycle/

http://mashable.com/2015/03/13/oculus-victory-motorcycles-sturgis/

http://www.cnet.com/roadshow/news/skully-opens-pre-orders-for-high-tech-helmet/

Motorcycle Carburetor Rebuild Part Eleventy-Seven (airbox boots)

The carburetor rebuild grinds on.  It took the better part of a week to get the airbox boots in, and when I opened the bag they came in I'd been charged for four but only got three.  I tried contacting Two Wheel Motorsports to ask if the fourth boot was sitting around there, but they didn't get back to me.  

The Concours uses two types of boots to connect the carbs to the airbox and one of the old ones still had pretty good flexibility in it, so I used the three new ones and the best of the old ones.

I tried for the better part of two hours to get the carbs mated to the airbox properly with the stiff, old airbox boots without success.  With my home-made hooked screwdriver (to slip the boots onto the intakes) it took about ten minutes of adjusting to get a good seal on all four carbs.  If you're doing an old carb rebuild, buy some new airbox boots, it'll save you a  lot of frustration and swearing.

The old airbox boots look rough, but the real issue is that the rubber has hardened over time and no amount of heat will soften them up.  The new boots were supple and easily went on the carb air intakes with minimal fuss and bother.

I pay for four and get three.  Fortunately one of the old ones was still pretty supple so I could reuse it.

Ten minutes and the carbs are back in place.  Get new airbox boots if you're rebuilding an old carb!

Evolution of Motorcycle Ownership and a Triumphant Return

Back in August of 2014 I wanted to take a more active role in my motorcycle maintenance.  At that point I'd been riding for just over a year on my first bike, a very dependable 2007 Kawasaki Ninja 650r.  I learned a lot on that bike, but it was a turn-key experience, the bike needed very little in the way of maintenance.   

The Ninja went from flat black to metallic blue and orange.  It was the last bike I rode that people commented on (I'd often get a thumbs up or have someone stop and chat in a parking lot about how nice the bike looked, which was satisfying as I'd been instrumental in restoring it from angry-young-man flat black).  The Ninja was, without a doubt, a good introduction to motorcycling, and was the king of the roost for my first two seasons.

As a first bike, the Ninja led the way both on the road and at the top of the blog.

I wanted my next bike to be one that ran because of my mechanical skills rather than one that didn't need them.  I found a 1994 Kawasaki Concours sitting in some long grass about twenty minutes away.  I quickly discovered that sense of satisfaction I was looking for.  The Concours was an eager patient who rewarded a winter of mechanical work with a rock solid five thousand miles of riding the next summer.

The Concours has offered some memorable rides, especially looping Georgian Bay and riding on the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.  For a bike that looked like it was being permanently parked with only 25k on it, suddenly it was back in the game, going places other bikes only dream of.

That busy season of long rides took its toll on the Concours though.  It isn't a spring chicken and after having spent the better part of two years parked before I got to it many of the soft parts on the bike were getting brittle.  I parked the Concours early and began winter maintenance knowing that the bearings and brakes both needed attention only to miss out on a late season warm spell at the end of November and into December.  I took that one on the nose figuring that's what happens when you ride an old bike as your daily rider.

The header on this blog for the past eighteen months, but running a twenty-two year old bike as your daily rider
makes for frustrations.  Time to be less sentimental and more rational in how I manage my stable.

That summer we were touring on the Concours I picked up a KLX250 to experience off road riding, but doubling insurance costs for a bike that I only managed to get out on a handful of times didn't feel very efficient.  That I struggled to keep up with traffic on it didn't support the way I like to ride.  Motorcycles are open and unprotected, but they are also agile and powerful enough to get out of a tight squeeze - except when they aren't.  The Concours was always there and the preferred ride, owning the road when I was on it.  When I went out with my co-rider he also loved the big red Connie, not so much the rock hard, under-powered KLX (he only ever rode on it once for less than five minutes).

Over the winter I put some money into the Concours, doing up the rims and getting new tires.  With the rims off I also did the bearings and brakes.  As everything came back together again, suddenly the carburetors weren't cooperating.  They're since being rebuilt and the bike should be back together again this weekend, but instead of always being there, suddenly the Concours wasn't.  As winter receded I could hear other bikes growling down the road, but I was grounded (again), even though I was paying insurance on two machines and longing to get back out on the road after an always too long Canadian winter.

The KLX was the first to go.  I'd never really bonded with it and, even though I always figured I'd run this blog with my most recent bike in the graphic at the top, the KLX never made it there; it never felt like the main focus of my motorcycling.  In the same week my son's never-ridden PW-80 got sold, and suddenly I had some money aside.

Ready to go with a new header, but it never took.

As days of potential riding keep ticking by and the carburetor work drags on, the Concours started to feel like an expensive anchor rather than the wings of freedom.  I had a long talk with my wife about it.  She asked why I don't unload it and get something dependable.  Keep the old XS1100 for that sense of mechanical satisfaction, but have a bike that's ready to ride.  I think sentiment was paralyzing me.  Hearing a rational point of view with some perspective really helped.

Many moons ago,
a pre-digital Triumph

With cash in an envelope I began looking around.  Before Easter we weathered an ice storm, but only two days later it was suddenly in the teens Celsius and bikes could be heard thundering down the road.  Meanwhile I was waiting for yet more parts for the Concours.  Online I was looking at sensible all purpose bikes that would fit a big guy.  Vstroms and Versys (Versi?) came and went, but they felt like a generic (they are quite common) compromise, I wasn't excited about buying one.

Since I started riding I've been on Triumph Canada's email list even though I've never come close to owning one (out of my league price-wise, no one else I know had one, no local dealer... pick your reason).  As a misguided teenager I purchased an utterly useless Triumph Spitfire, and in spite of that misery I've always had a soft spot for the brand (your adolescent brain makes your teenage experiences sparkle with emotion even when you're older, that's why we all still listen to the music from our teens).

A Tiger?  On Kijiji?  Must have
escaped from a zoo!

While trawling around on Kijiji looking at hordes of generic, look-a-like adventure bikes I came across an actual Tiger.  It was (as are all Triumphs I've mooned over) too expensive for me, but that Lucifer Orange (!) paint haunted me.

Another rare warm afternoon wafted by with the sounds of motorcycles on the road so I thought, what the hell, and emailed the owner.  He'd been sitting on the bike for the better part of two months with no calls.  He was going down to the Triumph dealer on Thursday to trade it in on a new Street Triple and knew he was going to get caned by them on the trade in price.  He emailed me back and said if I had three quarters of what he'd been asking, he'd rather sell it to me than give the dealer the satisfaction.  Suddenly this fantastic looking machine was plausible.

The garage is 100% more functional than it was last week,
100% more glamorous too!

A trip up to Ontario's West Coast and I got to meet a nice young man who was a recent UK immigrant and a nuclear operator at the Bruce Plant.  The bike was as advertised (well looked after, second owner, some minor cosmetic imperfections), and suddenly I owned a freaking 2003 Triumph Tiger 955i!

Most used bikes offer up some surprises when you first get them, and they usually aren't nice surprises.  The Ninja arrived with wonky handlebars the previous owner told me nothing about.  The XS1100 arrived with no valid ownership, something the previous owner failed to mention during the sale.  So far the Tiger has had nice surprises.  It arrived with a Triumph branded tank bag specific to the bike.  Oh, by the way, the previous owner said, the first owner put a Powercommander on it, and then he handed me the USB cable and software for it.  It had also been safetied in October, less than two hundred kilometres ago (paperwork included), so while I didn't buy it safetied, it shouldn't be difficult to do.  The bike has fifty thousand kilometres on it, but I then discovered that the first owner did two extended trips to Calgary and back (10k+ kms each time) - so even though it's got some miles on it, many of them are from long trips that produce minimal engine wear.  After giving it a clean the bike has no wonky bits under the seats or anywhere else.  I cannot wait to get riding it.

So, here I am at the beginning of a new era with my first European bike.  I've finally picked up a Triumph from the other side of the family tree (the bike and automobile manufacturing components of Triumph split in 1936), and I've got a bike I'm emotionally engaged with.  It might even be love!  Like the BMW I rented in Victoria, the controls seem to fit my hands and feet without feeling cramped and the riding position is wonderfully neutral.  When I'm in the saddle my feet are flat on the ground - just. Best of all, I don't look like a circus bear on a tricycle on it.


With the Concours officially decommissioned and awaiting (what are hopefully) the last parts it needs before being road worthy again, it's time to update the blog header:

What's next?  The Concours will be sold with only a modicum of sentiment, the Tiger will be safetied and on the road (it cost $90 a year more than the Concours to insure), and I'll enjoy having an operational, trustworthy machine made in the same place I was with lots of life left in it.  The fact that it was getting me thumbs up and one guy stopping to say what a nice bike it was when it was on the trailer on the way home doesn't hurt either.  Riding a tiger has a certain magic to it.

When I want to turn a wrench I'll work on the XS, getting it rolling again for the first time in years.  I'll get the ownership sorted on it (affidavits are required!) and eventually sell it without losing a penny, and then I'll go looking for my next project bike.  Maybe a scrambler Versys, maybe an old Interceptor, maybe something I haven't thought of yet.

Time for some unbridled Tiger enthusiasm!

Tyger Tyger, burning bright, 
In the forests of the night; 
What immortal hand or eye, 
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies. 
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain, 
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp, 
Dare its deadly terrors clasp! 

When the stars threw down their spears 
And water'd heaven with their tears: 
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger Tyger burning bright, 
In the forests of the night: 
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

Parts on Order Makes me Stop & Consider

Over the Easter long weekend I've rebuilt four carbs and put them back together again.  Unfortunately they won't go back on nicely thanks to two decade old rubber boots, so they're on order.  It's nice to have a forced day off.

If you're ever rebuilding carbs on a ZG1000, and the airbox on it is more than ten years old, it's a good idea to get some airbox ducts (that connect the airbox to the carbs).  Supple, soft rubber is important when connecting these up.  I tried for a frustrating couple of hours to get them to join properly.  This is especially difficult when the inner boots are rock hard, even when warmed up.  Steve suggests new carb boots to cut down on swearing, he ain't kidding:

Sixty bucks and should be here by
Wednesday.

I contacted my local dealer and they can have boots here by Wednesday.  They're charging less than they are going for on ebay or online retailers.  Score one for my local.  Sixty bucks means less swearing and an easy install.  Wayne, the Yoda-like parts guy at Two Wheel, says you're lucky to get two decades out of a set as they harden over time and eventually split.

With the weather going sideways again, there won't be much of a chance to ride any time soon.  Hopefully this means I can get this odyssey finished and the bike back on the road by the time the weather clears again.

The airbox ducts/boots that need replacing - the old ones are not only beaten up, but they've gone hard.
Even putting heat on them doesn't soften them up.  Note the flat spots up by the airbox that show you which
way to turn the boots.

Heating up the airbox boots - but they're too old!

A big empty where the airbox and carbs usually go

This ordeal has me rethinking things.  My wife suggested I unload everything except the old XS1100 and buy a regular motorbike that is more dependable.  When I started riding I got a dependable bike that just needed some cosmetic work.  It was so dependable it was tedious.  Since then I've gone back in time and enjoyed the world of carburetion and two decade old rubber, perhaps a bit more than I wanted to.

I genuinely enjoy mechanics, but never when there is a time demand on it.  I've already missed three riding opportunities because of the stuttering Concours, and this irks me.  The idea of wiping the slate clean and moving forward appeals.  I started riding late and moving through a number of bikes seems like a way to catch up on my lack of experience.  Maybe it is time to put sentiment down and move on.  I didn't start riding to watch the few lovely days we have in a too-short riding season pass me by.

A Tiger?  In my garage?

The little Yamaha and the KLX are gone now, netting me about $3000.  As it happens, a 2003 Triumph Tiger is available just over an hour away for about that much.  Come the end of the week I might be able to say, "a tiger?  In my garage?  Must have escaped from a zoo!"

Texas Meandering & a Better Idea

While the ice-storm of certain doom forms outside, I'm watching Qatar qualifying and daydreaming about making a MotoGP race this year.  The only one on my continent runs in a few weeks in Texas.  This has me reviewing my Texas Ironbutt dreams.

I'd originally gone for an Ironbutt on the way down and a shorter finish up the next day.  If I could push the limits I could condensify it even further (making it more excitingly possible!).

It's just short of a twenty-four hour ride to Texas from here.  An early wake-up Friday and I could do the Ironbutt to late Friday night (60mph avg for 17 hours 4am-9pm would do it).  The last five hundred miles after an early wake up should get me to Austin on Saturday by about 2pm... just in time for qualifying.  A good sleep Saturday night and then I'm at the race Sunday.  It wraps up about 4pm.  A good push to 10pm should put me a third of the way back, I could finish up the rest on Monday.  In theory, only two days off work!






I could fly down and back if I was loaded, but a quick look around found a flight out of Detroit (4 hour drive away) leaving Friday at 10:30am and getting in to Austin just before 3pm.  Flying out of the local airport meant layovers and a long time waiting.

I found a KTM 390 Duke to rent for the four days from Lone Star Moto Rentals.  I think i could fit riding gear in carry on luggage, so there'd be no waiting for luggage and I could be in and out of the airports quickly enough.  With the bike rental, hotels and flights I'd be looking at about $3000.


By comparison the ride down would be $1000 in hotels, $200 in gas and I wouldn't be herded onto a plane at any point.  Call me perverse but were I to go, I'd ride down.

Having said all that, I'd rather spend a thousand bucks on Racer5's introductory track riding program. I could buy some quality race kit that'd do for years and still come in at less than this abbreviated weekend. It'd be nice to see the MotoGP boys doing their thing again, but short of an unlimited budget it doesn't make much sense.

Icy Days & Carburetors

It's been ice-storm icy here

Without warm weather beckoning (we've been in the middle of an ice-storm here) I'm in less of a panic about not having a bike to ride.  With an extended long weekend thanks to power failures and such, I've been hammering through four carb rebuilds.

The K&L kit I got came with a new bowl gasket, new pilot jet, washer and o-ring, and a new float jet.  Breaking down each carburetor one at a time (so I don't mix up parts), I cleaned out the carbs and blew them out with compressed air and then put them back together with the new parts.

Those little rubber bits
get crusty after 22 years
on a bike...

Adjustment wise I reset the float height (17mms with the float unweighted - held sideways).  I also reset the pilot jets to two turns out from snug.  The pilot jets varied from almost five turns out to under three turns out.  I'm curious to see how this affects fueling.  The manual suggested resetting them to what they were, and I did record them, but the factory setting is 2 turns from snug, so that's what I reset them to.  I'm not sure why I'd reset them to what they were when they weren't working well.

The carb rebuilds weren't particularly difficult, but they were a bit tedious (you're basically doing the same thing four times).  Things have ground to a halt again as I've found that I need o-rings to replace the old, broken ones that sealed the fuel lines between carbs.  With some new o-rings I should be good to put them all back together again and re-vacuum tube them with new tubing.

Rebuilding the first carb - it took a bit longer as it was more exploratory

The second videos hows the final two carbs and then discovering the need for o-rings -both videos are based on photos taken every 10 seconds compressed into a video running at one photo every 1/10th of second.

As an aside, I thought it would be a good idea to go through Motorcyclesuperstore.ca, but they seem to have pulled back from offering Canadian customers a clear view of their prices.  You used to be able to buy in Canadian dollars and there were no surprises.  When you buy now they charge in U$D, so you've got to do some math to figure out how they compare to Canadian retailers.  It looked like they came out about twenty bucks ahead of an equivalent Canadian order, until I got the COD message with border taxes.  Suddenly that twenty bucks turned into paying an extra ten.  I liked motorcyclesuperstore.com, their customer service went above and beyond, but their lack of clarity around pricing of orders to Canada puts them in the same category as any other US distributor.  I'm not happy with canadasmotorcycle.ca's 'easy' returns (they charge you for shipping), but I'm not playing roulette with customs costs again.  I'm afraid that's the last time I'll use motorcyclesuperstore.  I need to start looking into other Canadian based motorcycle retailers.

Two down, two to go...

The pilot jet (centre) - has a spring, washer and o-ring underneath.

The float bowl off and being cleaned out - the floats are held in a pin at the bottom - the float jet hooks on a tab in the middle

Carb Photos:
https://goo.gl/photos/kPhLXuQnb8HmdQFs9

Bye Bye KLX

Selling a bike is always difficult.  In the case of the KLX it happened very quickly.  It didn't cost me anything to own it (what I got for it covers what I paid for it including the safety).

Unlike the Ninja before it, the KLX didn't get much seat time with me so I don't have a strong emotional bond with it.  I also didn't modify it at all, though I was tempted to.

In a funk the other week because I couldn't go for a ride on one of the first ride-able days of the year, my wife suggested I get rid of some bikes and get something dependable.  If I have to pivot around a bike, it would be the Concours (I'm emotionally invested).  It's a bit much to ask a 22 year old bike to be a daily rider, but that's what I was doing.  The goal now is to have two bikes:  the Concours and something newer and more dependable that can do commuting duties when needed but also offers me a different kind of ride than the big two-up friendly Concours.

I'm still fixated on a Versys.  There are a number ranging from just over $3000 for '07s to up in the 5ks for a 3-4 year old model.  If it is the all purpose/dependable machine I'm looking for, then a KLE will soon replace the KLX.  Having said that, this is an opportunity to consider a wide range of general purpose machinery, and I should take it.

Now to get the XS1100 running so I can sell it and look to create a more ride-able stable of bikes.  Looking at the brakes yesterday, I suspect the XS is need of some pretty serious fettling before it'll roll anywhere.

The calipers are unseized and rebuilt.  Now I'm looking for the source of the leak in the master cylinder.  With the front brakes sorted I'm going to try and fire up this dinosaur.  A running bike sells for way more than a door stop, and I want to hear it running before I let it go.

If next fall I'm putting the Concours and a more modern dependable bike to sleep and wheeling a winter project bike into the garage, I'll be in my happy place.  A winter project like this!