Friday, March 26, 2021

Yee Haw!

For the first time in more months than I can remember, I took a drive in the 914 which was at least partly just for the hell of it. For far too many months I have either avoided driving it (too cold out and heater not yet restored) or just ran to the local grocery store and back. Depending on which one the round trip was all of 18 miles max. 

 Well, once again I was out for food...seems with the COVID pandemic that is almost my only outing from the house...but this time I needed to go to one which, in theory at least, is somewhat closer...about six or seven miles. However, this might be deceptive in terms of time. While I can get to either via the state highway, between the gentle curves, potential Highway Patrol presence, and traffic, it is not always a joy and a pleasure. BUT...there is an alternative...a road named Clinton, though not for the US President of the 1990s. The name pre-dates his fame by many decades, and refers to a long defunct community which may, or may not, have been a hooch making haven in the days of Prohibition. This to takes me, as does the highway, to the town of Jackson, but a bit further south...in fact right at the cross street to the other main highway bisecting Jackson, and ending right at that grocery to where I was headed. 

 I hesitated as I left the driveway and then, what the hell, just went for it. The temperature, for the first time in months, was in the high 60s Fahrenheit, the sun was bright, there was no wind, and not a cloud in the sky. Nor was there another car going in my direction to slow me down. And so I “let the beast have its legs.” 

 Now the four cylinder 914 is hardly a powerhouse. As detailed in much earlier blog entries, with only 85 HP acceleration is not exactly a thrill, and while the top speed might exceed 105MPH the car is hardly fun or happy at that velocity. It is mildly powered VW based, roomy and practical sports car with all that meant in the late 60s. At 85 it is fun and it will cruise happily at that speed anywhere and for days at a time. But get it on a curvy road and...oh my what a different and lovely little beast it is. Corners like a slot car at speeds which are simply exhilarating. I just can't help laughing to myself as I hurtle into a 30MPH turn at 55 with just the slightest brush of the brake pedal to settle the suspension and then SNAP through it so quickly I am out almost before my brain registers that I am in. 

 And again 

 And again 

 And again. 

 The top speed I hit on this swooping, curvy, but not excessively tight road is perhaps 70-75, and most of the time I was doing five or ten under that, yet my “time to town” was probably a good three minutes faster on that route than almost anyone else would make it. Google Maps says it is 8.9 miles via Clinton Road, and that it takes 16 minutes to drive it. That is an average speed of 33 MPH. What world are they living in since the speed limit is 50? But of course almost no one can average 50 with those curves and hills. But since I make it via te highway in ten minutes driving more sedately (though that is 1.2 miles shorter, and though I did not time it, I am sure I made it in no more than that time...an average of 53.4 MPH and maybe I was even under that. At any rate it was the most fun I have had in a car since this pandemic started, including my last “on track” outing at Laguna Seca in the Siata. 

 God, I love that car.

Saturday, March 20, 2021

Above the Dirt

Still Above Ground


Odd title I guess...it actually vaguely refers back to my post called “Ashes in the Handlebars” in July of 2018. That was a “flyover” survey of the motorcycles in my life. The title was taken from a humorous(?) threat Sherri voiced about where she was going to stuff my ashes if I didn't do something with the derelict I had moved to Jackson which, 20+ years later, was lurking in a corner of my workshop.


Well, I have started “doing something,” a mechanical and cosmetic “refresh” of my favorite bike save only my X6 from the same manufacturer.


Why the title of this piece? Well, I'm 75 now...an unarguably ridiculous age to get “back into” motorcycles. But I ain't dead yet...and to paraphrase an old Datsun commercial about dogs and trucks “Marty loves bikes.”


I kept looking at the damn thing and thinking I was long past generating the energy it would take to start a large car project or even pull an engine out of one of the current classic cars I own...but bikes are a lot easier to work on since everything, in theory at least, is right out there in the open and generally accessible, though the access to some parts requires the skills of a laproscopic surgeon. It was running when I parked it, so I thought it might, like the 914, require a less than major cost or commitment to get going. Like the 914, it was part of my life since new, and bought only a few years after that car, and thus was an important part of my history, and is now, at the time of life when folks tend to do things either nostalgic or retrospective.


There was also a more practical reason to proceed, at least theoretically. I had watched two major forest fires in two years with cars were stuck in a non-moving log jam . In one case, people suffocated or burned and died: in the other, nothing was moving on a major Interstate highway other than two motorcycles. I vowed that if the worst happened and we had no warning to get out, we would have an option. While the GS750 might, at this point, be too heavy to manage, it did have a set of clip on Samsonite luggage which could be keep packed with an emergency evacuation supplies. if I could indeed still maneuver it, it also had plenty of power to get us away “two up.”


I was excited about the bike from the first article I saw for it. That was in late 1976. I don't recall the exact date when I bought it, but the month on the license plate is May so my guess would be late March or early April. That timing is interesting, as Adin was born that same year, on March 22nd .


I don't think the purchase was some sort of “Mid-life Crisis” triggered by his birth. After all, my cycling history predates that major life change by several decades, and I was riding a very nice Suzuki GT550 two-stroke at the time. I don't know exactly what triggered the decision...but can imagine aesthetics and excitement about the new model playing some part. The GT was chunky and purposeful, but the GS was svelte, and the lightly metallic blue-green paint job was particularly appealing and elegant. Not the least of the more balanced look were the four exhaust pipes, compared to the unbalanced three pipes of the GT. There was also the advantage of disc brakes at both ends compared to the drums of the GT...and the test ride articles all raved about the handling. 


At any rate, I bought what at the time I thought was the “second year model” from long defunct Selby Motors on El Camino Real in Redwood City, just north of Whipple Avenue...the building has been a pet supply store for decades. And almost 40 years later I began the project in the mid Fall of that auspicious pandemic year of 2020.


One of the interesting aspects of many restoration projects is the learning experience. The first one of these I did (the Siata) frustrated me because I wanted to race rather than wrench, but over the years I have learned to make the journey more pleasant by simply relaxing and letting things proceed at their own pace rather than trying to rush to an arbitrary deadline. That rarely works out well at all. If nothing else, parts acquisition depends on research, availability, and supply issues which are often beyond the control of the builder or vendor. There is little sense in getting frustrated while waiting for a critical part to show up.


After surveying and analyzing the condition of the GS, I spent weeks “doing my homework” to determine that all the parts I thought I would need appeared to be available. In reality though, just because those parts were listed on one or more sites did NOT mean they were a stocked item, nor that they might have to be special ordered from Japan, nor even that they were still being built or in existence anywhere on the planet.. But the Internet is the greatest research tool in history, and how much longer and more frustrating the search would have been without the information residing there.


In addition to parts suppliers there are usually one or more user forums with communities of folks with similar machinery...and these are often good sources to learn of suppliers or techniques and problem solving approaches. Of course, there is also plenty of inaccurate, misleading, and just plain wrong material out there as well, and it takes some critical analysis to separate out reliable information from noise...but this is also true in face-to-face evaluations of people and businesses. 


As I poked around I found some information about the model which was enlightening, and some which was and remains confused and costly in time and/or money. 


Though the GS came out in 76, I learned that all bikes built in that year as well as in 77 are considered 1977 models...and that they are not all the same. I kept running across material listing the “1977 Suzuki GS750”...as well as other 77 models with a letter suffix, the lowest and presumably earliest of which seemed to be a “1977 Suzuki GS750B” variant. All the sites supplying OEM parts, until recently, would pull up diagrams purporting to apply to the “B” version, whether or not I specified that in my search terms.  


.
 But at some point these sites have dropped the “1977 GS750” non-lettered menu selection.


I have the original owner's manual as well as an original factory service manual purchased with the bike. These make no reference to this “B” suffix. That led me to the builder's plate on the steering head frame tube. This contains not only the model and VIN number but also the build date for the bike. The model number on that plate is simply “GS750” without a suffix. 


Interestingly, in only one place have I seen a reference to an “A” versionand this chart is blank for the “A” column and GS750 model, nor does it list a “GS750B” on the left side. 


More searching led me to this site, put up but apparently no longer maintained, by a fellow in Scandinavia:https://www.suzukicycles.org/GS-series/index.html. It is a comprehensive listing of all Suzuki variants of the GS750 and other models, though it is not free of some conflicting and confusing information: Of particular interest to me was the date the model was publicly unveiled (October 1976), and that by January of 1977 it had already changed in specification.


The original GS had, as mine does, a single front disc brake using a floating single piston caliper, and spoked (wire) wheels. But twin discs apparently became standard issue by January of 1977, and alloy wheels were also standard on the “E” version by February of 1978. Supposedly the non lettered model was still available at that point, with twin discs and wires. 


So, according to this site, mine was built in 1976 even though I purchased it in the mid-Spring of 1977? Indeed. Though I never recall doing so before, I looked at the serial number plate fastened to the steering neck on the frame of the bike. And there found not only that serial number, but a build date...of September 1976, the month before the public announcement!

Pre-printed year plate with stamped month
 





There is something else revealing about this plate. The year is silkscreened or otherwise pre-printed on it. Only the month of the build and the serial number are stamped into the metal. This means, of course, that this plate was only used in 1976. No bike built in 77 would have it. Not only is mine, quite unexpectedly, a 1976 bike (though all such are considered 1977 models), but it was built before the public unveiling and is thus one of the very earliest GS750s. And a very gutsy move by Suzuki. They gambled from the beginning that the model would be successful!


I have yet to find a key to deciphering the serial number. Mine is 14677, but the leading digit might indicate, as it does on my Porsche, the model year. Perhaps my bike is the 4677th GS750 built? Of how many? I have no idea and have found no list of production volume. At any rate, it represents my own willingness to “gamble” on a very early new model, though I did not know at the time exactly how early it was. 


Then there's the paint, or more precisely, the color. My research located a site able to supply the correct colored vinyl striping for the fuel tank and rear valance over the fender and tail light. The tank and valance are the only painted bits on the bike other than the frame. The site lists and shows three different colors for1977...a red, an orange, and my own bike's more refined and subtle slightly metallic blue green. I have absolutely no memory of seeing anything BUT that color...was I just “blinded by the light?” Did Selby not have another color in stock? I have no idea. 


Fortunately I did my homework and did not just order paint from the first, indeed the only, place I could find claiming to be able to supply the “Potomac Blue,” which is the name Suzuki used. 


I plowed around bike forums where others were struggling with the same issue of trying to identify the color and mixing codes for the paint. I viewed so much material that I'm not sure, but perhaps it was on one of these where I found that name. In looking at photos online it seemed to me that many of them were “too blue,”  but thought perhaps it was problems of color fidelity of films, digital photos, lighting, and screens. I have seen this in many other photos after decades in serious amateur photography.

Too Blue...Eu or UK version?


But this was not the case this time. I found another place where the Suzuki “paint numbers” were listed, including links to OEM supply sites. Usually, with these codes in hand, any paint shop can access the specific mixing formulae. That was true with the 914 as well as Adin's Sprite, but these were large production run vehicles from major European automotive manufacturers, not a smaller production run of motorcycles from a firm in Asia.


Turns out it was well that I kept probing. I had found only one shop which claimed to be able to match the paint with the mixing codes they had. Phil at RS Motorbike Paint in the UK was both understanding and helpful. Once we realized what he had was called “03J” and the code I needed was “03E,” even though the name might have matched the color would not. We guess that these colors were not only unique to the 1977 model year, but that the difference might be between the color as used in the US versus the UK. Thus the “too blue” bike in the photo. 


I also learned to not automatically trust the diagrams which, though obviously supplied by the factory (and used by ALL OEM suppliers), are not necessarily correct for my bike. Here's an example. When Suzuki went to dual front discs they obviously needed a front master cylinder with a different internal diameter than that needed for the original single disc model. After getting a very expensive rebuild kit for a “1977 GS750” I learned the hard way that the ID of my cylinder was bigger than the seals and piston supplied in this kit. Since there does not seem to be much knowledge out there about the “pre B” or “A” version of the GS and the differences between them, at least some parts for the “B” simply will not work. 


In addition, I have learned to look very closely at those factory diagrams and the associated part numbers. If the numbers are identical between the “B” and other 1977 variants I learned that the part might well be for the other models. Even with different part numbers, since my bike is an “A” and the earliest parts described are for the 77 “B,” that part might well not work. While there are few differences between the variants, the ones which exist are non-trivial. 


The diagrams also need to be viewed closely. For example, the front brake calipers and forks for the “B” shown online shows a single front disc, which does not match other information I have about the model. 


Though I did not expect it, Ebay became a highly utilitarian source for some items. But no matter the source, figuring out dimensions was an issue. These are only rarely provided, and it is really hard to figure out if a non-OEM part would fit from a non-dimensioned photo. 


No matter where the part or fitting comes from, not being able to use it pushes any planned scheduling into a crap shoot. I'm not in a hurry with the project, though returning items to Amazon is as easy as it gets but is still a delay and inconvenient, and things just get less easy from there with other suppliers (oddly, Ebay in many instances is as easy as Amazon). And sometimes, with a $15 part and no free return shipping, it just doesn't pay to send it back. I have a shelf full of stuff like that now.


An interesting side note is how much has to be sourced outside the US, and how much of that, including custom manufactured replacement parts such as these fuel intake manifold pieces 

Fuel manifold pieces   

 come from the UK. Though I have known for years that this original source of the Industrial Revolution is still a nation of small “fiddlers” and “makers” it still seems crazy to me that it is also a hotbed of OEM and aftermarket replacement parts for Japanese bikes which are now close to a half century old. While I was able to use my original manifold pieces and did not order the ones shown, I have bought two items out of England, with a third to be purchased shortly, as I move from completing the mechanical work to replacing cosmetic pieces.


The side covers have a GS750 plastic emblem above the “Suzuki Motors Ltd.” decal, as can be seen this photo of the cover.


 For 1976 the “GS” was in silver, with other 77 versions using gold. That gold version might also have been used for some time (I did not check) as this version is readily available from OEM as well as Ebay sellers. ">Not so for the silver variant. None of the OEM suppliers I viewed showed it as available, and I only found one pair on Ebay from (you guess it) England. Since I am trying to keep the bike as close to original as possible, I was not interested in the gold version. The dilemma was that I dropped the bike once approaching the China Basin bridge and lost the emblem from the left over. Otherwise I would have just kept the old ones in place or perhaps would have settled for buying the (much less costly) gold ones.


The next UK purchase was a tool for synchronizing the four carbs. In the 70s I used a rather crude device consisting of a masonite board with lines penned across a painted white background at set intervals. There were four glass or plastic tubes transecting these lines and glued to the masonite. Attached to each was a long surgical rubber hose. Each tube had a bit of mercury in it. I guess there were fittings with the setup to attach the hoses to which screwed into the intake of the carbs, normally covered by allen head screws, but I really don't recall. 


The concept was that with the bike running at a high idle, you adjusted each carb so that the height the mercury reached for three cylinders matched that of the highest column for any. I assume it worked well, though spilling mercury or worse, sucking it into the motor, was a concern.


This thing eventually deteriorated to the point it was no longer usable. Heat turned the hoses to mush, and the mercury did eventually escape. Though the bike is now running, this photo of the 36 year old plugs I was using to get it going show clearly that, from left to right, the #1 and #2 cylinders are clearly running significantly richer than #3 and #4. 

Numbered from Left to Right


There are two systems available today for tuning. One uses circular vacuum gauges, hoses, and carb adapters. The gauges are fastened to a metal “board.” The other uses either a column of some liquid less toxic than mercury, or in the case of the most costly version which reviewers said was the best, lightweight metal cylinders, within tubes calibrated against a marked scale, but functioning like that crude 1977. Both the gauge and tube type are available from sellers on Amazon. I also stumbled across a site with links to the supplier of the “best version” (the one with the metal cylinders) for less money, shipped direct from the manufacturer in...Northern Ireland!

Before: Out of Synch

In Synch After Adjustments


Some of the chrome on the bike is sadly deteriorated.I can live with some of this to keep cost down, but the front fender in particular is too visible and important to just leave “as is.” So assuming a replacement was available, should I repair and rechrome mine, or should I replace it? The OEM sellers do not sell new fenders, so I investigated costs of repair.. For the luggage rack there would be no alternative to repair, as the unit was made by Samsonite and is no longer available anywhereI t consists of eight tubular parts and the cost was too high to contemplate, so I used a rust remover and ultra-fine steel wool to clean it as best I could, touched up some small spots with silver paint, and then clear coated it with high quality gloss brake caliper paint.


The quote I got for repairing my fender was almost exactly the price of the new one I found in (wait for it)...England. It is hard to judge the quality of a chrome shop sot I am opting for replacement. This seller too was in the UK and I seem to be making a lot of new friends in the UK there.


I suspect it is long past time to end this missive as it is turning into a doctoral dissertation instead of a blog post. So here is a photo of the bike as it sits today (sans luggage, which is off to allow access to mechanical bits). The lower front forks will be repainted with the same silver as the motor. Photos usually make things look better than they are, and though that is true here, the picture is not totally misleading. I wish I had some shots taken before I started, but the one below of an engine cover provides some feeling for the rather sad state the GS was in last October. It's come a long way, baby. 

Before: Peeling Paint and Corroded Side Cover

As She Looks Currently, though far from completed