The Carburetor Chronicles

Carb Chronicles Page #3

OK it is vaguely starting to resemble a carb now . . . I think.
Turns out these screw things, I probably ought to know what they are called huh, have holes in them.
I am guessing the complete and total blockage may have had something to do with the bike not starting. I still think a battery that cost ninety five American dollars out to start the damn space shuttle. there should have been enough amps to vaporize all paraffin, sludge, gunk, gook and whatever within 13 miles of the bike. Can you tell I am still a little blown away by how much the battery cost.

Speaking of sludge, gunk, etc. Gumout SUCKS ASS. I think the main ingredients are fruit juice and shampoo.

The B-12 just sprays most of the stuff after a few minutes, Gumout just sits there and stinks.

Taking off that toasted o-ring (now flat) sucked (just like on the other one). Getting the new one was just like the head cheerleader on prom night, a complete bitch.

I took a couple of picks and gently tugged it completely terrified of screwing up what looks like an irreplaceable part.

Say, word to the wise, pay specially attention to the "tabs" on the diaphragms when you put them in, and careful with the cover screws. Okay?

ANDREW

On to the diaphragm and the tabs.

The old diaphragm looks it belonged to a four dollar hooker.

Out with the old on with the new. All of you out there who have been in the closet and are refusing to admit you have never rebuilt a carb, these are the tabs. You know you are out there. Telling people you did all the work on that cherry Daytona Orange R90S when you know all you did was polish the damn thing.

And here is where one tab goes:

and the other one

Getting it back together

and button the top back up. I am amazed at the number of things that go wrong when you are doing this. It is entirely possible that this bike is never gonna run until I park it at the dealer and stand in the doorway and just start throwing handfuls of money through the front door.

Nahh, forget that. I bought an airhead because I want to participate with the technology. I want to understand just what is producing the horsepower that sends me down the road. I want my sweat mixed in with the gas. There is something visceral about this engine. Not in that loud pipes sort of Harley way, but in a of thoughtful intelligent interaction between man and machine sort of way.

Waitress, another beer over please.

Geez people say silly stuff when they are tired and drinking a little.

Did I mention the carb cleaner buzz? I got a headache so bad y'all ought by some stock in whoever sells Excedrin.
Gumout still suck ass.

Back to the bottom of this carb.
Time to go after the slimy floats. I oh so carefully use a pick because I do not have a drift pin that small. Easy, now . . .gentle.

and of course those among you who know what you are doing have already realized I driving the pin out in the wrong direction.
Gently try to get it back through in a direction it was never intended to go, flip it over and go the right way.

Guess which half got the Gumout and which half got the B-12

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