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Ramblin with Pocket
The 45 Cronicles
First long ride
Attended the Southern Regional HOG rally in Beaumont, TX. I checked out the 45 side valve for the long trip. Planned to leave out Thursday morning at daybreak to beat the traffic going over the old bridge over the Mississippi river but the skys looked like the bottom was going to open up so I got loaded up as the rain started on the trailer to head to Scott, LA to meet up with Sportster Chuck. As soon as we left the Baton Rouge area the skies cleared. Go figure. Arrived in Scott and unloaded the bike. We got a late start and headed for hwy 190 to take back roads to Vidor, TX where we would have about 6 miles of interstate to travel. Not 20 miles into the journey I started having intermittent problems. It felt more and more like fuel delivery as the motor felt like it was doing what it was supposed to be doing but it would cut out, run rough until I slowed and then catch up and run for a while. This kept up for a long time. Several times I stopped to check the sediment bowl and even pulled the float bowl off the carb. I found a small bit of rust and water but only the first time. To ad insult to injury, my bike was blown over by a wind gust landing on the guards injuring only my pride. Glad I had those on my bike..Since I get lost in a paper sack I had to rely on GPS on my phone and you can't plug in the route you want. It picks what it thinks is the best route so naturally I took a wrong turn and limped into a small town near North Orange, TX. I decided to drain the fuel tank but it had about 2.5 gallons of gas in it and I didn't want to dump it becoming a ward of the state so while I was pondering my next move I was visited by a righteous individual who asked if we needed help. After telling him what was going on he said he'd be right back and bring some supplies. 15 minutes later he shows back up with gas cans, catch pans, funnels and some heater hose. Beauty. I broke loose the fuel line from the bottom of the tank and held the hose up to it and put the other end into a can. Opened the valve and waited. I shook the can and it seemed a bit light so I pulled the hose out of the can and it was just a trickle. Bummer. Definitely fuel related. Opened the gas cap and gave my 45 some oral gratification blowing into the fuel tank and out came a lot of gas. Let it run for a bit and sealed everything back up. I thanked this good guy who goes by the name.of Tommy. He was more excited than I was and asked if he could take a picture of my bike so I said of course. Then I got an idea. Got off the bike and told him to give me his camera and to sit on the bike. I walked around him taking a bunch of shots of his big grin while sitting on my 45. He went off to do his thing and we set off backtracking to hwy 12 that would take us to Vinton.. Only a few miles and it started acting up again so I again stopped. Crazy idea. If whatever is blocking the fuel line won't go south then it needs to go north. We broke out a small air compressor and I set it to blow up into the tank. As soon as the compressor started Chuck opened the valve until he could lift it off the seat and open the reserve blowing air into the tank where we closed it. I reassembled the fuel line but I was spent. It was eleven o'clock at night and I spent more time laying in the dirt than in the saddle that day. I found a hotel close by and we called it a night. Next morning we were 20 miles from our destination. If it ran we'd go on. If it failed I was ready to have a relay go back for the trailer. Off we went and the old girl sang. Got to the interstate and rolled on into Beaumont doing 55 – 60 mph. Next day it rained lightly all day so we just tooled around in a car. Saturday was epic weather and we rode into the rally. I drew a crowd and one guy told me he rode in on a Shovelhead and until I showed up he had the oldest bike. They gave me a parking spot right in front where I parked in the middle of all these new bikes dripping oil from the primary weep hole. Someone commented on that and I said I liked parking there and consecrating the pavement. Got a good laugh. We left Sunday morning and rode all the way back with zero issues. Every time you stop for gas you draw a crowd and when you ride old iron you can't help but feel like an ambassador for the brand so I answer questions but try to get away.without being rude We did stop in Eunice where my 93 year old mother lives to have some coffee and visit. She and my wife are best friends and it's always a hoot to visit someone who has no filter. When I build the bike she would give me money for parts. I'd protest but she insisted on being a part of the bike so I couldn't tell her no. We got back to Lafayette and I loaded the bike back on the trailer. That trash is still floating around in the tank and I didn't want to suck it into a blockage on either the 7 mile bridge or the 190 MS river bridge. Neither has a shoulder. We did run into Tommy again at the rally. I see a lifetime friendship has developed and I'm trying to get him to saddle up and start building his ironhead project he has.
400 miles
37 mpg
Only a half quart of oil used.
Cylinders never got hotter than 285 degrees at the exhaust
Now I just have to flush out that gas tank. Old iron can be dependable. Sometimes the mechanic isn't.
Build it
Ride it
Repair it
Wear it out
Repeat
They belong on the road, not behind velvet ropes in a museum.
The 45 Cronicles
First long ride
Attended the Southern Regional HOG rally in Beaumont, TX. I checked out the 45 side valve for the long trip. Planned to leave out Thursday morning at daybreak to beat the traffic going over the old bridge over the Mississippi river but the skys looked like the bottom was going to open up so I got loaded up as the rain started on the trailer to head to Scott, LA to meet up with Sportster Chuck. As soon as we left the Baton Rouge area the skies cleared. Go figure. Arrived in Scott and unloaded the bike. We got a late start and headed for hwy 190 to take back roads to Vidor, TX where we would have about 6 miles of interstate to travel. Not 20 miles into the journey I started having intermittent problems. It felt more and more like fuel delivery as the motor felt like it was doing what it was supposed to be doing but it would cut out, run rough until I slowed and then catch up and run for a while. This kept up for a long time. Several times I stopped to check the sediment bowl and even pulled the float bowl off the carb. I found a small bit of rust and water but only the first time. To ad insult to injury, my bike was blown over by a wind gust landing on the guards injuring only my pride. Glad I had those on my bike..Since I get lost in a paper sack I had to rely on GPS on my phone and you can't plug in the route you want. It picks what it thinks is the best route so naturally I took a wrong turn and limped into a small town near North Orange, TX. I decided to drain the fuel tank but it had about 2.5 gallons of gas in it and I didn't want to dump it becoming a ward of the state so while I was pondering my next move I was visited by a righteous individual who asked if we needed help. After telling him what was going on he said he'd be right back and bring some supplies. 15 minutes later he shows back up with gas cans, catch pans, funnels and some heater hose. Beauty. I broke loose the fuel line from the bottom of the tank and held the hose up to it and put the other end into a can. Opened the valve and waited. I shook the can and it seemed a bit light so I pulled the hose out of the can and it was just a trickle. Bummer. Definitely fuel related. Opened the gas cap and gave my 45 some oral gratification blowing into the fuel tank and out came a lot of gas. Let it run for a bit and sealed everything back up. I thanked this good guy who goes by the name.of Tommy. He was more excited than I was and asked if he could take a picture of my bike so I said of course. Then I got an idea. Got off the bike and told him to give me his camera and to sit on the bike. I walked around him taking a bunch of shots of his big grin while sitting on my 45. He went off to do his thing and we set off backtracking to hwy 12 that would take us to Vinton.. Only a few miles and it started acting up again so I again stopped. Crazy idea. If whatever is blocking the fuel line won't go south then it needs to go north. We broke out a small air compressor and I set it to blow up into the tank. As soon as the compressor started Chuck opened the valve until he could lift it off the seat and open the reserve blowing air into the tank where we closed it. I reassembled the fuel line but I was spent. It was eleven o'clock at night and I spent more time laying in the dirt than in the saddle that day. I found a hotel close by and we called it a night. Next morning we were 20 miles from our destination. If it ran we'd go on. If it failed I was ready to have a relay go back for the trailer. Off we went and the old girl sang. Got to the interstate and rolled on into Beaumont doing 55 – 60 mph. Next day it rained lightly all day so we just tooled around in a car. Saturday was epic weather and we rode into the rally. I drew a crowd and one guy told me he rode in on a Shovelhead and until I showed up he had the oldest bike. They gave me a parking spot right in front where I parked in the middle of all these new bikes dripping oil from the primary weep hole. Someone commented on that and I said I liked parking there and consecrating the pavement. Got a good laugh. We left Sunday morning and rode all the way back with zero issues. Every time you stop for gas you draw a crowd and when you ride old iron you can't help but feel like an ambassador for the brand so I answer questions but try to get away.without being rude We did stop in Eunice where my 93 year old mother lives to have some coffee and visit. She and my wife are best friends and it's always a hoot to visit someone who has no filter. When I build the bike she would give me money for parts. I'd protest but she insisted on being a part of the bike so I couldn't tell her no. We got back to Lafayette and I loaded the bike back on the trailer. That trash is still floating around in the tank and I didn't want to suck it into a blockage on either the 7 mile bridge or the 190 MS river bridge. Neither has a shoulder. We did run into Tommy again at the rally. I see a lifetime friendship has developed and I'm trying to get him to saddle up and start building his ironhead project he has.
400 miles
37 mpg
Only a half quart of oil used.
Cylinders never got hotter than 285 degrees at the exhaust
Now I just have to flush out that gas tank. Old iron can be dependable. Sometimes the mechanic isn't.
Build it
Ride it
Repair it
Wear it out
Repeat
They belong on the road, not behind velvet ropes in a museum.
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