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askapro Learning to be your own wrench By Lee Parks #162125


Q: I really enjoyed your answer to the


question on tools last month and was looking advice.


for some I’m rela-


tively new to riding and don’t have a lot


of wrenching experience, other than the


occasional tightening of my


kitchen faucet. Looking through all the cool travel articles in ON each month, I fancy myself becoming a world traveler some day and realize I need some significant wrenching skills to complement my riding skills (also a work in progress). Are there any tips you could give me as I start to navigate the confusing world of becoming mechanically inclined? I don’t have time to go to school to become a “real” mechanic but want to start that journey now and build up my skills as I see so many others have done. I also really appreciate reading the stories of how Iron Butt competitors have to fix their bikes on the road, MacGyver-style.


A: That’s a good question and a proper answer would take more pages


than this entire issue. However, there is one tip that I will share with you based on one infamous event that is forever burned into my psyche. Ever since I started racing moto-


cross when I was 14, I’ve been work- ing on my own bikes. While I will defer to a pro for things like transmis- sion work, I’ve always considered myself to be a fairly decent shade tree mechanic. A recent experience on an LA freeway, however, was a rude wake-up call. Familiarity had built up


76 BMW OWNERS NEWS April 2016


a complacency that almost killed me. Of course, we’ve all had our close-call


moments over the years. This time was a little different for me, however, in that something that was so easily preventable had placed me in such a precarious posi- tion. I hope this tale of nearly tragic non- chalant-ism (I think I just made up that word) causes you to think twice before giv- ing yourself the green light to get on the road. I have a Hollywood director buddy


named PJ that I’m currently co-writing a motorcycle-related screenplay with, and we had a long conversation the night before I was going to visit him. It was 1 a.m. by the time I realized that I had not put the wheels back on my bike after changing the tires that afternoon. Begrudgingly, I got my tired, lazy ass off the couch and headed out to the garage to quickly get the wheels on so I could just wake up and go in the morning. After installing the wheels, I did my usual checking over of all the nuts and bolts to make sure everything was tight. I even used my torque wrench on the axles. (Note: Hav- ing a good torque wrench is essential for any mechanic because it is impossible to develop a “feel” for proper torque on vari- ous fasteners.) The next morning I had a quick bite to


eat, grabbed my Aerostich and started the 90 minute drone down the hill to LA. After about 20 minutes on the 210 freeway I noticed some brake lights on the cars up ahead. Surprisingly, I pulled the front brake lever until it hit the bar and there was no change in speed. At first I figured that the pads must have been pulled so far apart when I reinstalled the wheel that they just needed another pull to take up the slack. A second pull resulted in a loud noise


and a howling front wheel lockup. This immediately caused the rear wheel to shoot upward as the bike began to flip over


forward. At this point my senses sharpened as I realized that if I didn’t let go of the brake lever, I was going to experience an 80-mph face plant. Riding on only the front wheel for about 40 feet, I was horrified to notice my solo front brake caliper dangling off its mounts. Apparently, I had forgotten to check the brake caliper bolts the night before, which were likely just hand tight when I began the ride. As if that wasn’t bad enough, an adrenalin-powered, overzeal- ous stab on the rear brake lever also had zero effect on my velocity. A glance down revealed my right boot covered in brake fluid where the rear master cylinder had blown its seal in response to my Neander- thal-level of sensitivity at the lever. Holy crap, now I had no brakes and


somehow had to get across fours lanes of traffic, stop and somehow get my bike fixed! Almost miraculously, the next exit had an uphill off-ramp, which, combined with my best Fred Flintstone foot brake imitation, allowed me to slow down enough to get to the light just as it was turning green, which happened to lead me onto a street with a strip mall containing an auto parts store, which also happened to have grade eight metric bolts in the correct size for my caliper mounts, and even had a ratchet and socket to lend me so I could reinstall my brakes. Whew! I’m not sure if this experience means I


have really bad or really good karma, but one thing is sure: late-night wrenching when fatigued can be just as dangerous as riding while fatigued. So take a tip from your Uncle Lee and don’t wrench in any condition that you wouldn’t also ride in unless you plan to recheck all of your work before you hit the starter. You may not be as lucky as I was if you


make the wrong choice, but hopefully you’ll be smart enough to not be as dumb in the first place.


skills


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