On the way home, the condenser bit the dust. (I'll be stocking up on VW condensers tomorrow.) This took place in an intersection just as the light turned green. I jumped off and pushed the bike out of the road and commenced to changing the condenser. A Harley rider stopped to offer assistance, but I was okay. While changing the condenser, I couldn't help but think about how inconveniently they're located. On a 6V Chang, you have to pull the distributor off completely to access the condenser. Since condensers fail from time to time, I decided to relocate it in order to facilitate faster swaps instead of the usual 20 minutes. It was very easy, and utilizes crimp connectors for quick disconnecting. The condenser is in a bracket, screwed to the side of the distributor. (You can read more about that in the Toolbox.) I can hardly wait for the next roadside condenser failure!

And lastly, the bike repeated one of its earlier tantrums a couple miles from town. I had to manipulate the spark advance lever to find a spot where the bike didn't cough, sputter and backfire. That's how she behaved the rest of the way home, and the problem turned out to be exactly what I expected—a freewheeling rotor. Yep, it was that old chestnut. You see, one thing I didn't have in the toolbox was Loctite, so the rotor screw went back in dry after I replaced the condenser earlier in the day. I sure didn't expect it to back out as quickly as it did, though. Oh well, everything's sorted.

And here's a picture of what I went to see in Canandaigua—some awesome old machinery.

Two hours in the saddle is all it took to find the remaining bugs, and there were a few, but all in all, the bike runs as good as ever. An hour or so into the ride, the left foot peg was getting a little slippery, and, for that matter, my left boot was covered with oil. Turns out, the pushrod covers were both leaking, but the left side was like Niagara Falls. In one way, that's good because it tells you the valve train is getting lubricated. Anyway, that's all sorted now. I replaced the cork gaskets with high temp silicone, and did the screw heads as well. It's now bone dry (unless there's leakage at the front of the dynamo... and I suspect there is. We shall see.)

The other bugs were all little stuff. The rear brake and clutch needed some adjusting. The idle speed needed to be increased slightly. The mirror needed to be angled out a bit more—which is kind of an anecdote in itself. The original lefty mirror got trashed in the wreck, and all my spares were righties. I had to make a lefty from a righty by heating the stem with a torch, and reversing the bend. I just didn't bend it quite far enough. Looking at your own shoulder in the mirror doesn't serve much purpose, so I had to bend it some more. I took it off the bike, stuck it in the vice, heated it to a couple million degrees, then decided to reposition it before I started bending. CRAP—and duh. I grabbed the hot part which made a sizzling sound. I called myself some names, sprayed my hand with soothing Windex, and finished the task. Man, that really smarted.

The bike is hereby pronounced RFA (ready for action).

On a less positive note, I noticed a sag in the paint on the gas tank which really, really bugs me. It can probably be buffed out, but if they break through to the primer, the tank will need to be resprayed. I'm not sure I can live with such a defect, especially in light of what I paid for this paint job. I'll be paying a visit to the body shop this week. I know they'll make it right.

And, on a final note, something I've been meaning to mention here for quite some time. You older gents who take on these big projects—let me ask you something—just between you and me. Do you ever find yourself spending an inordinate amount of time looking for the item you had in your hand a moment ago? I sure do, whether it be a part, a tool or the &%$# flashlight. I've developed a knack for losing things right in plain sight. Not only is it frustrating, but it adds considerable time to the task at hand. I sure hope it doesn't get worse as time marches on.

No pictures today, just words.

There were indeed some teething problems, as expected. The new battery set me back $95! (I consider that a major teething problem.) It's a big honkin' car battery, the same model as before. With it mounted and the trunk wiring all connected, it was time to switch on the lights. Boing! My new Chinese sealed beam blew instantly, and neither of the sidecar lights worked. Crap. So, I got a Wagner headlamp from the local NAPA. As for the sidecar lights, I was convinced it was bad wiring, and wouldn't you know it? The battery in my Fluke meter was dead. I ran to the store for a new battery and resumed puttering. Well, there was indeed juice in all the right places. Turns out, both bulbs were bad! What a relief. Luckily, I have spares. I sure didn't want to do any rewiring. So, with all the lights finally working as they should, I started the bike. I figured it was gonna take half a dozen kicks, but I was off by maybe 100 or so. Both jugs were badly flooded due to the stupid plastic floats that I had forgot to switch over to brass. After making the switch, the bike finally fired up and boy howdy, did the paint on the jugs ever stink! It was that rust killer stuff I used under the stove paint. It's nasty! The bike seemed to run just fine, once it was unflooded, that is.

Off to the insurance guy, then the DMV, and then for the dreaded shakedown run. "Shake" is a very good word to describe it because the front rim turned out to be bent from the wreck. No big deal, I'll just ride home and stick the tire on my last, decent stock CJ rim, and swap that wheel with the one on sidecar. Well... crap. The valve stem in the tire wouldn't let the air out of the tube, no matter how much I fiddled around. No big deal, I'll just buy a new tube. A few telephone calls confirmed what I already knew, the nearest source is 20 miles away. So, off to the H-D dealer in Gang Mills for an MM90 tube. The new tube is a Dunlop and it's by far the best one on the bike. It cost more than some of the tires did. Anyway, I got that mounted, and then noticed a growing gas puddle under the bike.

Yes, there was gas leaking. It was leaking from the petcock, balance tube and both fuel lines. In other words, just about every place it could leak from. Crap. Today's first lesson:

• Do not use vacuum hose for fuel lines, no matter how nice you think they look.

To address this problem, I had to drain the tank, you know, the one I had just topped off. Running a hose from the petcock to the gas can and waiting for what seemed like hours, and making sure the second can was ready before the first one overflowed. Eventually, I was able to change all the hoses with proper fuel lines. I had these on hand and can't really say why I didn't use them the in first place. Whatta jerk. I also used six little hose clamps.

Now, the leaky petcock. A close inspection showed that there was fuel seeping around the threads where it screws into the tank. One more turn with the wrench should fix that. Crap. Snapped my beloved PLA petcock right off, flush with the tank. Now the tank has to come off the bike, but not until removing the new balance tube and fuel lines.

On the bench, I tried a number of things to get the petcock out, and I'll only tell you about the one that worked. What you do is drill a third hole in between the two existing holes. Then use the drill to ream it out so the three holes merge into one oblong hole. Now stick a flat tool (like a tire iron) into the slot and crank on it with some vice grips. The broken part will spin right out. Anyway, I had some drilling debris to clean out of the tank before installing another petcock.

Crap. The only spare petcock I had was an old one I had made from brass and copper fittings from the plumbing store. (Click here to see it.) Come to think of it, it's a fine petcock, just not very pretty. And it has a terrific brass filter inside. What the heck. I stuck it on the tank, stuck the tank back on the bike, stuck the hoses back on the tank, stuck the clamps back on the hoses, and stuck the gas back in the tank. No leaks, but by this point, I was all CJed out for one day.

The shakedown will continue tomorrow.