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Long, long ago, in the near distant past, while the Engineer Priest was seated in the temple gardens contemplating the why's, when's and wtf's, he noticed a bright, shining object at the bottom of the reflecting pond. He removed his Doc Martens and gingerly waded into the pond to retrieve his prize, always on the look-out for the large predators that inhabited that pond. As he reached into water and took possession of his prize, he felt pressure, then pain in his hand. Surely this is a sign from the Gods he thought, but it was only a medium sized snapping turtle searching for a meal.

Once out of the pond, he examined his prize. As he gazed at it, the clouds parted and a ray of sunshine illuminated his hand and it's contents. A booming voice, seeming to come from everywhere at once, said "Behold, The SPEEDOMETER SENSOR BOLT". Totally awed, the Engineer Priest fell to his knees and made a promise to his Gods. He would take this BOLT and design a motorcycle around it. Burying it deep within as to be nearly inaccessible to all mortal men.

The Engineer Priest toiled day and night for months, with little to eat and little sleep, until his vow was completed. He unveiled his creation before the altar of his Gods and said to them "Behold, the V2K!" His fellow priests looked upon his creation and frowned. It's too big. It's too heavy. It's too loud they cried as the beast was brought to life. They cowered when he cracked the throttle and ran away when it moved under it's own power. Men hid and women smiled when he passed.

Mortal men still curse the BOLT today but covet the BOLT holder.

AND THE GODS WERE PLEASED.
 

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You must be real bored.
 

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The really vexing thing about The Bolt is that it's not buried so deep that it cannot be easily seen (the head of it, at least). But to get to it for manipulation...good God.
 

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Discussion Starter #5
It's Monday. 5" of new snow on the ground with more forecast for 6 of the next 7 days. 16 degrees and windy. Boredom, ha! I spend all day talking to the cat. She's a good listener. The dogs just look at me like I'm nuts and the old lady can't hear me anymore. What's a fellow to do? I'm out of coloring books, my crayons are all broken, my pencils are worn out and nobody trusts me with a pen (sharp objects). 6000 TV channels with nothing on to watch. So I get to type on this computer and dream of warmer days so I can go out and shoot the damn groundhog that said "six more weeks of winter".

But my spirit is not broken ( just bent a bit). I shall persevere! Better days are coming.

Don't take my ramblings seriously. If my little story made you chuckle and grin a little, then my job here is done. I'm just trying to make it through my first winter as an old retired guy. Not quite a year and still not used to not having to get up at 0-dark-thiry for work.

Ride safe y'all. Bob
 

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Nice one Izzy :) good for a chuckle. Lucky you got internet eh, or the the dreaded cabin fever would have set in by now eh.

Cheers Ando
 

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IZZY, you spoke the true gospel !!!! Much appreciated and enjoyed !!! :D

Thank You!
 

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wocka, wocka, wocka
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The really vexing thing about The Bolt is that it's not buried so deep that it cannot be easily seen (the head of it, at least). But to get to it for manipulation...good God.
the pix are out of sequence.. I had no truble getting to this bolt, or any other for that matter.. since this bike was acquired solely as a project bike and never as a main duty bike.. I had no problem taking it down to its bones at any given time.. when stripping all the EPA krap off it, I routed the crankcase vent line from bak of tranny to the ground, where it came from (earth to earth).
while I was in the bowels of the beast, I rid those 2 pesky fuel drain lines. only way to get to them is open her up. so I did. mite as well do a thorough klean job while shes nakid.
and ther is huge open cavity behind the swing arm pivot axle. that is where the WoLo BadBoy Air Horn took up residency. no where to be seen. Loud as a Freight Train at RR Xing.

this bike is a piece of cake to work on.. especially compared to the half dozen hardleys I have pulled down and put back up. they are a friggen nitmare of confabulation.. the Kaw is Kake. poncho
 

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This post was an attempt at a little humor. Ponch is right, this sled is very simple to work on with the right technical information available. As in most jobs, understanding what you are doing, patience, the right tools and taking time to do it right will get it done. As for the "BOLT", if I can see it, I can get it out and back in. Got two drawers in the tool box full of special/modified tools from over the years and can make another if needed.

Difficulty is usually measured by the number of cuts on my hands, scrapes, knots on my head and four letter words used it takes to get the job done. Example: Replacing the line shaft bearing in the bilge ( 325 lbs for each bearing half, 1000 lbs for the cap) of a dead in the water guided missile frigate in 20' seas. That one was worth about 30 stitches, four broken fingers and a whole bunch of them words I mentioned. Got it done. My equipment, my problem, my job. Done a lot of stuff where somebody actually built an aircraft, automobile or whatever around the bad part needing replacement.

My scoot runs perfectly so anything I do to it now is by choice so I can take my time and do it right. Not quite a labor of love but I still like to turn a wrench and enjoy the results of my time and effort.

Time to get down off the soap-box and quit preachin'.

Wonder if any of them spiked ice racin' tires will fit the sled. Tired of winter.

Stay warm, it will get better. Bob
 

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wocka, wocka, wocka
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quix'draw mcgraw and his sidekick bobbalouie

This post was an attempt at a little humor.
iz, 'sawrite quix'draw.. nobody gets it rite the firs... couple hunerd times.. bobbalouie
 

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Long, long ago, in the near distant past, while the Engineer Priest was seated in the temple gardens contemplating the why's, when's and wtf's, he noticed a bright, shining object at the bottom of the reflecting pond. He removed his Doc Martens and gingerly waded into the pond to retrieve his prize, always on the look-out for the large predators that inhabited that pond. As he reached into water and took possession of his prize, he felt pressure, then pain in his hand. Surely this is a sign from the Gods he thought, but it was only a medium sized snapping turtle searching for a meal.

Once out of the pond, he examined his prize. As he gazed at it, the clouds parted and a ray of sunshine illuminated his hand and it's contents. A booming voice, seeming to come from everywhere at once, said "Behold, The SPEEDOMETER SENSOR BOLT". Totally awed, the Engineer Priest fell to his knees and made a promise to his Gods. He would take this BOLT and design a motorcycle around it. Burying it deep within as to be nearly inaccessible to all mortal men.

The Engineer Priest toiled day and night for months, with little to eat and little sleep, until his vow was completed. He unveiled his creation before the altar of his Gods and said to them "Behold, the V2K!" His fellow priests looked upon his creation and frowned. It's too big. It's too heavy. It's too loud they cried as the beast was brought to life. They cowered when he cracked the throttle and ran away when it moved under it's own power. Men hid and women smiled when he passed.

Mortal men still curse the BOLT today but covet the BOLT holder.

AND THE GODS WERE PLEASED.
OMG That was funny as hell !
I know the feeling ! Great Job !
 
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