Sunday 26 April 2015

Balance of power

Jacob Bronowski: speccy smart-arse, boyhood hero
If you’re a particular age and of a scientific/engineering bent you’ll certainly remember Jacob Bronowski’s much-lauded (and much-mocked) early-70s book and television series The Ascent of Man in which the learned but somewhat theatrical prof charted the development of humankind principally, in its technology.

All of which is a somewhat laboured introduction to what might cheerfully be called The Ascent of Manometer, the next stage in development once you have the technology: namely, a multi-cylinder motorcycle with more than one carb.

I know, I’m wittering. Essentially, if your machine has two or more carburettors, at some point you’ll need to balance ’em – in other words, set them up so they pass equal mixtures to their respective cylinders. How will you know when the carbs require balancing? The bike will have a lumpy and uneven tickover, unresponsive throttle, possibly overheating on one cylinder… in a word it’ll run badly! And if it’s running badly, sync’ing the carbs will improve the situation and provide a complete cure if that’s the core problem.

Spend money or plump for the Blue Peter approach?
To do it you’ll need an expensive vacuum gauge or a cheap(er) device called a manometer (detailed explanation here). Better yet, for a bike with two carbs you can homebrew a manometer  as easy as acquiring a length of plastic tubing and some ATF, brake fluid or similar. And what’s more it’s every bit as accurate.

Yes, really.

Anyone familiar with the carb’d Hinckley Bonnie and variants will know that the Keihin carb is a sensitive instrument which doesn't take kindly to time spent languishing in the garage – during a winter lay-up for example. For a (very) short while I owned a Hinckley Scrambler which, while an undoubtedly handsome bike and with a rorty exhaust note when fitted with TORs to rival any genuine or ‘reissue’ lookalike Brit machine, hated to sit for more than a few days and was, frankly, a big pain in the arse (I traded it for a far superior Harley 48).

Pretty bike Triumph, but no cigar…
The machine needed constant fettling and other than the front brake which was, frankly, shit, the twin Keihins were its weakest point.

Anyway, here’s what you’ll need: between four and six metres of plastic tubing with a 4mm bore and a litre or so of ATF (or your choice of brake fluid, old thinish oil or whatever you happen to have lying around). You might also require some kind of clamping to squeeze the tubes and lower the pressure drop reaching the fluid, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Fold the tubing in half without kinking it to form a long loop. Hang it up somewhere with the open end uppermost and, using a funnel, pour in the ATF until you have around 0.75m in the tubing on each ‘side’ of the loop.


Loop the tubing without kinking it
You’ll find that a quantity of the fluid gets trapped at various points in the tube but if you leave it hanging for a while the fluid will settle at the lowest point. Ideally, you should mount the manometer on a rigid backing to facilitate ease-of-use. Mine’s attached to a surplus length of modular shelving bracket which, with cable ties through the brackets slots, is ideal for the job.

The finished instrument here mounted
on a length of shelving bracket
Now arrange your bike so that air can flow around the motor and the exhaust fumes escape (ie stand it outside or at the very least, open the garage/shed door). A large domestic fan pointed at the motor will help keep it cool.

Have a look at the carbs on your bike and familiarise yourself with the location of its vacuum nipples and adjustment screw(s). If there aren’t any nipples you’ll have to remove the balance pipe which joins the carbs and connect your tubing (possibly with some duct tape) instead. Check your workshop manual for details. The Keihins score in the balancing department with accessible nipples and only one balance screw.

I’m being deliberately vague at this point because your experience will almost certainly differ. However the nub of the process is essentially the same for all machines.

At the vacuum nipples, pry off the tightly-fitting rubber caps and attach the open ends of the tubing. Switch on the fan and start the bike. Immediately, you’ll see the fluid in the manometer zoom up one side or other of the loop. If it travels so quickly that it looks like reaching a carburettor, switch off the bike and clamp the tubing such that you reduce the draw on the fluid. You’ll probably find that the tubing must be squeezed until it’s almost flat and it might be a good idea to do this at the outset and release pressure as needed. Now you know why it’s best to have a good length of tube in the loop: it gives you time to react before the fluid reaches the motor.

A clamping arrangement to squeeze the tubes and reduce
the pressure is useful. Mine’s made from one of those
adjustable feet from an office desk
and a piece of brass tubing
At idle, turn the balance screw slowly so the fluid begins to rise in one side (thereby falling in the other), reversing the screw where necessary to bring the fluid to roughly equal heights in the tubes (ie within a few mms is fine). Be gentle and turn the screw slowly and by tiny amounts.

When the carbs are balanced, stop the motor, remove the manometer and (very importantly) reinstate the rubber caps on the nipples. That’s it. Quick, dead easy and it cost you at most, a couple of quid.

Get you, just like a real mechanic! Gaffer a few well-thumbed nudes torn from Nuts on your garage wall and you’ll be that man my son.

Friday 24 April 2015

Tomos carrier update

Tomos carrier: just needs a rub down and paint
Quickie update with a pic or two of the (almost) finished Tomos carrier. I’ve been super-busy of late but short of filling, filing and a lick of paint, the rack is finished.

Six quid saved, hurrah!

You can see what a mess the flux-cored welder makes…

Monday 13 April 2015

Nowhere to go but everywhere


“I realised these were all the snapshots which our children would look at someday with wonder, thinking their parents had lived smooth, well-ordered lives and got up in the morning to walk proudly on the sidewalks of life, never dreaming of the raggedy madness and riot of our actual lives…”
Jack Kerouac, On The Road

Wednesday 8 April 2015

RERCN Tibenham Run

Bleak, grey, flat: hmm, must be Norfolk
If it’s Easter Monday it must be the Royal Enfield Riders Club Norfolk’s Tibenham Run, a piggy-back ride-out to the VMCC’s Shakedown event at Tibenham Aerodrome.


Rightly famous for its many mediaeval churches, Norfolk is also awash with ex-WWII airfields, of which Tibenham, about 15 miles south of Norwich, is one. The site was used  during WWI by the Royal Flying Corps before becoming home to squadrons of American USAAF bombers during the Second World War. Actor James Stewart flew 10 missions from the station and Tibenham was also used as a location for an episode of Dad’s Army: Round and Round Went the Great Big Wheel. Now, like so many other pensioned-off aerodromes, it’s home to a gliding club.

Actor Jimmy Stewart rattles out a tune at Tibenham c.1944
Shakedown marks the beginning of the VMCC Norwich calendar and involves timed speed trials up and down the runway. There’s generally a good turn-out despite what always seems to be a rotten day weather-wise.

This year was no exception: good numbers, great bikes, freezing temperatures. My ride began with a bimble across the byways of south Norfolk interspersed with a blat along the B1113 to meet up with others of the RERCN and then on to Tibenham where we arrived to a steaming mug of coffee in the canteen and a healthy turnout lined up outside.

Here’s a selection of what was to be seen:

Wherever vintage bikes are gathered…

…there will you find old blokes poring over them


Steam-punk Panther with electric start…

…home-made frame, exhausts

and forks, and…er, pretty much everything else

Lovely old CD175 in ‘enjoyed’ condition








’59 Velo Viper…

…yours for six grand

“I see a handsome four-cylinder stranger in your future…”
The Japanese really knew how to make and sell a multi

Monday 6 April 2015

Semi-detached suburban Mr Jones


Harley and Indian parts to the cognoscenti from 235 Valencia St, San Francisco. The shop’s extant, the much-lamented Mr Jones isn’t.