Saturday April 28, 2017: On the way to the new biker campsite 'Bij het vuur' the engine unexpectedly stopped. Without warning, it just quit, after a 25-kilometer ride.

  
         
 
 


A glimpse under the tank cover explained a lot: a weasel(like) rodent had eaten my wiring, and this had undoubtedly led to a short circuit. No more riding the CBX today.

  
       
 
 

Damn (or: GODVER, as it is called in Dutch). But I felt a bit lucky too: sparks beneath the tank cover could have had more damaging effects...

  
       
 
 

I convinced the AA patrol lady that she sent a tow truck right away, and not a mechanic first: this wasn't reparable at roadside.

  
       
 
 

The friendly driver thought it was an interesting cargo.

  
       
 
 

It's quite easy making friends owning a self built motorcycle.

  
       
 
 

I pushed the bike into the barn and took the GSX-R to the camp site. The party, with Erwin and owners Jan and Corrie, was fun. What a nice place to be.

  
       
 
 

The following week I replaced quite some wires. Wonder what marters like about it. It appears that seaweed (!) is processed in the wires' plastic, but this can also be a silly myth. Does a marter like seaweed anyway? And why does it eat the copper wiring then?

  
       
 
 

After fixing the wiring, the engine ran smoothly. But during the half-yearly tour of 't Fuske (see Trips 2008, 2010, 2013), the engine quit again, again after about 25 kilometers. It wouldn't start: The starter relais gave a nice click but did not turn the starter motor. Curiously, the engine did start after it had cooled down.

So I took it back on the trailer, again, this time with my own trailer though.

Suspected item #1: the alternator. The engine may fail if the battery is not recharged. No power means no spark and no starting. After a while the engine started again; I assumed my new battery had regenerated itself.

  
       
 
 

So I disassembled the alternator and its drive unit.

  
       
 
 

Nothing wrong with the drive unit, and apparently the alternator and its carbon brushes were in good shape too.

  
       
 
 

I took the cover off the oil pan, and inspected the oil strainer: just plain clean, nothing going on. It hád to be something electric.

  
       
 
 

I always wondered why my first CBX had a voltmeter in the cockpit. Now I know why:

  
       
   


To check if the alternator did its job properly, I connected a voltmeter to the battery and made two long trips. Nothing wrong: proper 14 Volt @ 1,000RPM, and 14.5V at revs above that.

  
       
 
 

My good friend Simon Olyslager did the wiring of the CBX eighteen years ago. I asked him to help me. He had to re-read the wiring scheme.

The CBX seemed to have entered its puberty.

  
       
 
 

We replaced some suspicious connectors and checked the engine's ground. Just excluding possible causes.

  
       
 
 

I dared to ride to Erwin on Friday 2 June, to celebrate my birthday there. And being a jury member at the nice Koning Zelfbouw event in Hengelo the next morning, for the fifth time in a row.

  
       
 
 

The trip to my job in Arnhem: no problemo. Later that afternoon, towards Vasse, at Apeldoorn: the engine quit. And again that click, and no starting.

  
       
 
 

This time I didn't want to be taken home but instead discuss the matter with an AA patrol mechanic. He came to the same conclusion: it must be the alternator.

For the third time in a short time, the bike was shipped home on a trailer. "Daddy isn't angry, daddy's just disappointed."

  
       
 
 

That weekend I called Stefan Jung. He provided my engine with a (strong) Kawa ZX7R alternator, eighteen years ago. I asked him if he recognized the problem. He did not: Stefan provided several hundred CBX's with the same alternator, and just one failed. He suggested the sudden drop might be caused by the ignition switch. And I should check the starter motor: old ones (like mine) often don't crank if they're hot, which would explain non-starting.

So I took out the starter motor, disassembled it, cleaned it ...

  
       
 
 

... and checked it. There was some dirt but nothing wrong really.

  
       
 
 

Also the carbon brushes were alright.

  
       
 
 

Stefan advised soldering the stator's seven contact points.

  
       
 
 

Like new.

  
       
 
 

The ignition switch was one of the suspects too. So I just replaced it, to exclude this possible cause too.

I made a test ride, and the engine ran just fine. But, at one time, it made a sound a CBX should not make: pounding. There was something very wrong on the left side of the head. Possibly not the electronics, but a new / other problem?

  
       
 
 

 

CBX expert Bert Vonderman of Six Center visited me to take a look, and see and hear the engine.

  
       
 
 

"No, that's no good." We agreed.

  
       
 
 

So the next day I put the bike on the trailer again, off to Six Center in Nieuwleusen.

  
         
 
 

(and I hate trailering bikes)

  
       
 
 

In no time the whole bike was stripped. A sad sight.

  
       
 
 

Here we're still laughing ...

  
       
 
 

... but after lifting the valve cover that was over.

  
       
 
 

The camshaft on the front left was completely loosened. The cap was partly melted, and a number of bolts stood out.

  
       
 
 

The camshaft had deep grooves.

And thus the cause of all misery was found: nothing electronic but purely mechanical.

Because the camshaft had a clogged oil channel, it did not get any lubrication. As the engine heated up, the aluminum heated up, deformed, after which the shaft ran so heavy that the engine stopped. The starter motor did not have enough torque to turn the engine; After cooling down it did because the aluminum solidified again. And this went from bad to worse.

  
       
 
 

A head should be silver-gray, and not dark gray as is the bottom right.

  
       
 
 

Fortunately the lower half of the engine was in good shape.

  
       
 
 

I left the engine at Bert and took the remains home.

  
       
 
 

Of course, this is an expensive repair: a CBX head costs up to 1,000 Euro, and then you have to overhaul it. Fortunately, I had a decent head in the attic since about twenty years. I bought it then "for you never know". And now I know.

  
       
 
 

On my way to a post agency, on my loyal GSXR workhorse, sending the head towards Bert.

  
       
 
 

While the head was being revised, I had time to fix other defects at home. Because an accident never comes alone.

The speedometer gave up after eighteen years. That did not surprise me: eighteen years is an eternity for electronics. And that it quit now, in puberty, did not surprise me either.

  
       
 
 

Did I say eighteen? I meant more than nineteen. ;)

  
       
 
 

Fortunately, I'd already realized that this would happen sooner or later, and had bought three identical speedometers in the previous century. Because if the model changes, the construction has to be altered too.

  
       
 
 

Quite tricky, milling a speedometers plastic housing.

  
       
 
 

Removing the old guts, assembling and soldering the new ones in. The new screen is no less than three months younger than the old one. ;)

On the left and right you will see the speedometers relays I operate with my prepared gloves.

 
       
    Voilà.  
       
 
 

And because the bike was already almost completely disassembled, I took the swing arm out as well ...

  
       
 
  ... to move the numberplate holder from the left position to the center of the bike. Three reasons: people hit it and bend the plate over and over ...  
       
    ... and I have to install a new numberplate every year.  
       
 
 

Second reason to take the grinder: symmetry. No explanation needed I think.

Third reason: the Dutch police fines bikers for not centered plates since decree K030a.

The second reason for me was decisive though: I planned this change for quite some time.

  
       
 
 

In order to get the end of the swing arm perfectly angular, I put the entire arm on the mill. Inching and pinching: 1 hour. Actual milling: 1 minute.

  
       
 
 

I made an extension for my rear fender from 2mm stainless steel ...

  
       
 
 

... and had it welded by 'Dengelmeister' Hans.

  
       
 
  The extension was then welded to the fender.  
       
 
  I bent a tube that Hans attached to the inside of the fender. It'll hold the wiring for the numberplate lighting.  
       
    I made the lighting with four serial connected LEDs with a 0,1K resistor.  
       
 
 

And this is how it looks, without the glass.

In the background you see the fresh Pirelli tyres; let's go the whole hog! ;)

  
       
   

I milled two new reflectors (with E-certification! :)) that were mounted on the back of the swingarm. Symmetry, I love it.

  
       
   

In the meanwhile, Bert made progress with the engine. The head had been overhauled, flattened and painted; Here you see the bottom, with the twenty four valves.

  
       
   

The cam chains were most likely stretched by the loose camshaft and were replaced. As were the inlet rubbers, and the spark plugs, and the oil, and the gaskets, and the seals, and quite some bolts.

  
       
 
 

On July 6th it was time to get the heart back in the bike.

  
       
    That looks like a motorcycle again.  
       
   

Moment of truth: will it start, and how does it run?

Aim at Bert to open the throttle.

  
       
 
 

The engine ran smooth, but to be sure we checked the oil pressure ...

  
       
    ... which was just fine.  
       
    July 7th the bike was back on its feet. A hell of a job but optical a bit disappointing.  
       
 
  The only visible difference is behind: I like the new numberplate position.  
       
 
  First test ride: Saturday, July 8th, towards a new motorcycle event in Wichmond, called MotorDok. At Koning Zelfbouw they'd handed out flyers.  
       
 
 

Many reasons to visit this: Wichmond is in the Achterhoek, where I grew up. And I embrace new bike initiatives like this. And of course the engine must be run-in. And it was nice weather. And afterwards, having a nice drink with Erwin, in Zieuwent, this time with the CBX.

  
       
   

Ánd: there was a motorcycle blessing, by Wichmonds one and only pastor Harry Scheve. I myself had a Catholic upbringing but I'm not not a practicing Catholic anymore. Still I like the ceremonies; they are beautiful.

  
       
    After my V8 engine misery and CBX misery I could use some help from above. ;)  
       
    From now on everything will be just fine!  
       
    There was not much going on at MotorDok; too bad for visitors and organization.  
       
   

While all the ingredients were present for a party: bikes, stands, nice weather, a snack bar, drinks and a good atmosphere.

  
       
   

The number of bikes for the bike show was not really impressive: I did not sign up – I didin't want to compete – but I put my bike along. That made a total count of ... three.

  
       
 
 

Almost-fellow-villager and fellow bike builder Victor Arens rode his beautiful Kawa two-stroke to Wichmond.

  
       
   

I didn't want to wait for the award ceremony because staying there till five o'clock was too long for me.

There were more musicians on the car than there were visitors. Unfortunately, because the music was definitely not bad.

  
       
    About two o'clock I left for Lichtenvoorde, for an unannounced visit to my mother; she appreciated it. After that I rode to biker camp 'Bij het vuur' ...  
       
 
  ... where I was warmly welcomed by owners Jan and Corrie, and a group of merry Frizians from Oosterwolde. The camp site honored its name.  
       
    The next day: home sweet home. Taking the small roads, cruising the wonderful Achterhoek country. Looking ahead ...  
       
   

... and behind me.

Combined with the smooth purring of the new engine.

Doing nice things with your adolescent son; What does a parent want more? ;)