Man,That is deep!
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).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.
iz, 'sawrite quix'draw.. nobody gets it rite the firs... couple hunerd times.. bobbalouieThis post was an attempt at a little humor.
OMG That was funny as hell !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.