DAY ONE THE LONG RIDE IN
Day 1 finds all of us gathered at the 3 Palms Hotel(Presidio, TX) with bikes loaded and ready to go. Sixteen riders were originally on the roster but due to medical, home, work and/or various other reasons 13 of us make a break for the border. After a nervous start through Ojinaga (road construction and resulting confusion) we find the toll road to Chihuahua. My freaking bike is not liking the altitude and does not want to pull in top gear. Great, its only 320 miles to Creel and my bike doesn’t want to keep up. Billyj hangs with me and we make our way at 60mph instead of the 65-70 the others were running. I was told I needed 130 mile range. My bike regularly gets 160+ on a tank but not today......@#$%# as my bike quits going down a hill at 90 miles. I flip reserve and get another 16. The math didn’t add up and I was going to be short. I ended up adding two fuel bottles. I did not want to be the problem bike on this trip but it wasn’t looking good. We beat into a pretty serious headwind and a couple of others had fuel problems but a few tipped bikes and everybody made the first fuel stop.
Bikes fueled up and a couple of tollbooths later we reach the outskirts of Chihuahua. I’m bummed because the bike is running like crap but am making the best of it. Turns out that the route is running us through the interior of the city. Before you know it, the ride becomes a hare scramble event as 13 bikes try to keep up with the leaders who are leaving lights and changing lanes like its the Gumball Rally. Eventually, we made it to the far side of town and nobody got ran over by a bus. For lunch, the bikes got fuel and most ate tacos. Because my bike was running like crap, I told the group that I was going ahead as I knew that they would soon catch me. As the altitude got higher, the bike ran worse. On flat ground, I was good for 55mph. Within miles, the lead group make their way by me.
At La Junta, I got fuel and knew I had bikes in front of me but was wondering where the bikes behind me were. I waited 10-15 min but nobody showed. On the way into town, there looked to be an alternate road that bypassed the town. I thought maybe they had gone that route and was now way behind. I kicked the bike off and away I went at my slow as fast as I could go pace. As I edged southwest, the terrain quickly changed from the high desert to a more Rocky Mountain kind of landscape. Along with that change in landscape came a change in altitude and temperature. That stinking altitude now found my thumper chugging to a mere 45mph. I felt like a turtle running with a bunch of hares. The landscape was dusted with the white stuff they use in Aspen. It was quite striking. I was finding it hard to pay attention to the now curvy road because I was so busy rubbernecking. All of that stopped when I came across the ice on the road. Needless to say, the pavement condition in front of my tire became my focus.
Finally, I saw a sign that said Creel 65. Crap! 65 more miles to go! Oh wait, that is 65 kilometers. I did the mileage conversion on the speedometer and realized that I should soon be there. Margarita’s here I come.....or so I thought. Boy, Creel was bigger than I thought it would be. I thought how hard could it be to find 12 bikes in front of a hotel. On my 4th swing through town Bill waved me down to the hotel. There were only 4 bikes and I made the 5th. We were missing 8 bikes. I unloaded my stuff and paid Anna at the front desk. I shook off the chill and was trying to piece what might of happened to the rest of the group. I kept my ear out for the rumbling of the rest of the group. 10....15....30...60min and still 8 bikes on the road after dark. I was getting a bad vibe. Five of us sat down to dinner when I heard the bikes pull in. I’m telling you that was the sweetest sound. I jumped up from the table and ran out front and got my roommate Billyj unloaded. I counted to make sure there were 8. They were all tired but accounted for. Turns out that there was a flat and a fuel bowl full of sand that held up the group. Like good soldiers, they gathered around the sick bike and got it fixed. Turns out that this was going to be the theme for the rest of the trip.
As the rest found something hot to eat, I turned my attention to my bike. I rode a vintage dualsport on this trip. 1984 Yamaha XT 600 with 4100 miles on the clock. I had prepped the bike as had the others but couldn’t find anything on jetting my bike for altitude. It’s kind of hard to figure out jetting for 8000ft when you live at 600ft. I did buy some jets though. My bike has a two barrel carb. One has the traditional needle with clip adjustments and the other barrel has a constant velocity slide. I leaned the needle on the primary by adjusting the clip and hoped that was going to work. Finishing that, I went in and went to bed.
DAY 2 THE NEW PLAN, THE STAIRCLIMB AND ROGERS BIRTHDAY
Before we know it, the alarm goes off and Billyj and I get up and make our way to the breakfast table. There is talk about the rest of the scheduled days ride/mileage. Two groups emerge. One group(Irondawg, Rocketman650, Ray, Ian, Teeds and Skinny) are going on with the original route that Irondawg laid out. The other group consisted of (me tx246, team swaney (Roger and Jeremy), ta2240, Micah and Billyj). As a group, we decided to see more and ride less. This group adopted the "nobody left behind policy". We had a riding buddy and were responsible for each other. There was no hesitation on my part to join this group as I ridden with two of these guys in Moab last year. On top of that four of the six had been here before.
We make plans to meet up with the group headed out on the original loop later in the week. We were headed to Batopillas and the other group was on their way to El Fuerte via Batopillas. We left a few minutes before they did but they soon passed us as we stopped at the lake outside of town to visit with the Tarahumara. A few pesos traded for some local crafts and we are on our way. The road is paved but has more twist than Sour Skittles. The bike is running better but not lean enough as it noses over at anything over 1/3 throttle. We all have a kicka$$ time doing our best MotoGP on the pavement. We all do pinch some of the seat foam off our bikes as ice still surprises us in the shady spots but nobody falls all the way down.
Soon enough, we are at the turn off to Batopillas. The road turns to dirt and we pick our way through the trees. We go through several small villages before the canyon breaks out before us. I’ve been to the Grand Canyon North Rim, Black Canyon of the Gunnison, and the Royal Gorge but this was something entirely different. From the top, the Canyon is green, deep, and full of views. The road flips on itself all the way to the bottom. We ride a bit, watch Jeremy do some rock climbing, take some pictures and generally just do a lot of gawking. As we wind our way to the bottom, we come to a switchback that has a downhill shortcut and we use it to pass a truck. This little downhill will bite us later.
The little villa of La Buffa passes under our wheels and we are cruising and admiring the sights when we come around the corner to find Teeds standing beside his XR650r and it is evident that he has fallen. We get him on his bike and Jeremy gets it started as Teeds knee is tender. We put him in our lineup and continue through the canyon. Twenty minutes later we run into the lead group and return their lost rider. We head into Batopillas looking for lunch. Roger heads for a previous destination. He soon finds it and negotiates for lunch. Lunch is at Reyna's house.....not resturante....but house as in her kitchen. The cheese enchiladas go down as easy as the Cokes. We make a date for breakfast and continue through town in search of gas. It is here that we run into the other group and find out that Skinny's brand new Husky just popped its CDI. That makes two out of the first group (one mechanical/one physical) looking for a way to the border.
We head back to our hotel just outside of town. It is above the road and just gorgeous. Roger negotiates and all of us pay up after making sure there is plenty of frio cerveza. Everybody gets cleaned up and goes into town to find the lady who has silver jewelry. I stay behind to work on the XT. I adjust the back drum brake and pop in the leaner secondary jet. This ended up being the ticket to making the XT sing later at altitude and on the way home. Then its up to the room and take a quick nap. I hear the rumble of bikes and walk out to the rail. During negotiations, Roger makes sure it is ok for us to bring our bikes up into the courtyard at the top of the stairs. Let the great stair climb begin. There are four flights and some clear it and some don’t. I don’t but hop off and run it the rest of the way up.
Turns out that it is Roger's birthday. We didn’t have any cake but we had beer and limes. We sat out on the veranda and got into the spirit of things. Some of us got "more" into the spirit of things. Before long, we were serving ourselves and the bottles were stacking up along the wall. Jeremy ends up having the more fun than the rest of us. He ended up feeling guilty and tried to give some his fun back. The lime tree accepted it as well as the dog. We have pictures but due to graphic content, we will be leaving those out. Six of us knocked off 41 Sols. We settle some dysfunctional family issues and generally have a large time until the bar cooler had nothing left. We shared this hotel with one newlywed couple. Being tired and out of beer, the noise level drops as we retire to our rooms. Snoring starts up as soon as the lights go out.
DAY 3 THE CHURCH, THE WATERPUMP AND THE 8 BALL
Day three has us packed and headed down the stairs on motorcycles. It’s off to Reyna’s for breakfast. My stomach had been giving me problems so opted for some bland scrambled eggs while everybody else had huevos mexicali. It sure looked good. After breakfast, it was off to Satevo and to look at the "Lost Church". We soon find it as Billyj had been there before. There were kids in the courtyard and we handed out suckers and tootsie rolls. The church was unlocked for us and we admired the building inside and out. A stop that was very worthwhile. We headed back into town to get fuel and head back out of the Canyon the way we came in.
We then ran into the Group that was supposed to be in El Fuerte yesterday. We chat a bit and they head off as they are already a day behind. We run into downed riders Teeds and Skinny at Hotel Mary's in the plaza. They have not secured rides back to Creel as of yet but are making phone calls. Billyj offers to look for a truck but they are sure there is nothing going out today, as it is Sunday. Billyj is fluent in Spanish and looking back we should have found them a ride.
We fall into formation and give high fives to all of the kids as we ride out of town. Soon we have run the length of the canyon and cross the bridge. It is straight up from here and we arrive at the little switchback shortcut which is now a challenging uphill instead of downhill. I watch Jeremy think about it as he circles by it. I race up to the top to take pictures. As I get to the topside via the road, I see Billyj make it up. I’m looking down and see Micah's bike on its side. This could be bad as ta2240 is waving for us to come back down.
It is bad as the bike fell hard on the right side and drove the bash plate into the waterpump cover. It is now in thirty odd pieces. Roger has that "you a$$clowns" look going on. Before we could even get tools out, we hear the rumble of a vehicle on this very lightly traveled road. It looks like an empty stakebed truck and we wave it down. Out hops the driver and an occupant. A 50ish clean-cut cowboy surveys the situation and talks with Billyj. He agrees to get the bike to the pavement but cant haul us to Creel as they need to go to Parral, which is in the opposite direction. The 6 of us hand load the mortally wounded DRZ into the back of the truck and Micah is tying the bike down as best he could. While that is going on cowboy admires Rogers mini vise grips. Roger responds with "you keep". The friendly cowboy is conversing as best he can when he whips out a bag and offers us something that is illegal in these United States. Each of us politely decline as he sticks his key into the stuff and snorts it off his key. We are laughing and in shock. Micah is unaware of what just happened and we decide he probably doesn’t need to know. Micah plans on riding in the back with his bike but we insist he ride up front and take his helmet with him. You see, ta2240 and Roger are LEO in the US and ta2240 said holy @$#$, that was an 8 ball which is slang for a very large personal stash. We mount our bikes and take off up the hill.
We beat the truck to the pavement junction and get something to drink. It isn’t long and the truck pulls into the store. Before we can unload the bike, we find another truck that is heading to Creel. Friendly Cowboy gets us all hooked up and tied down in the new truck. Friendly Cowboy is cutting lengths of rope to tie the bike in the new truck but is having trouble with his smaller type knife. Roger whips out a nice SO knife and tells Friendly to keep it. We ask Micah about his ride up the canyon and he proceeds to tell us a story. Friendly made a comment about Micah’s sunglasses, which were red lenses. Micah told him "you try" as he handed them to him. Friendly put them on and looked in the mirror. Micah then replies "Ohhhh El Diablo!" and they both got a laugh. Friendly then asked how much Micah paid in US for them because he wanted to buy them. Micah insisted he keep them and didn’t want any money. Friendly pulled his wallet out and said " Me No Bandito!" Micah convinced him it was gift for getting him to the road.
Creel is still there and we make it back to Hotel Margarita's. Same routine as we unload, clean up, and look for beer before dinner. Micah and bike arrive and we unload. We consider our options and decide our best bet is to have a water pump cover pulled from a buddy's bike and have it overnighted. Turns out fastest delivery to Creel from Houston is 6 days. Next best alternative is to have it shipped to Chihuahua in 2 days. That is what is decided on and phone calls are made. Thanks to all that made that happen(Michah's wife and greasemonkey). We go to a restaurant and end the day thanking our lucky stars with all things considered. I make my way to an internet cafe and let the family know that I'm still alive. I get back to the room and Jeremy has started the surgery on the cover. We are missing several significant pieces but the seal portion is intact. He has started with JB Weld and has most of the pieces together. I whip out my tools and pull apart my feeler gauges. The brass one makes a nice addition to the Frankencover. In the morning, Jeremy and Billyj look for anything remotely looking like a bike shop with no luck. They do return with rtv silicone. We sealed the inside with the rtv and added a layer of moose putty on the outside. Hey! A can of spray paint and it would look factory.
SEE NEXT POST FOR REST OF REPORT
Day 1 finds all of us gathered at the 3 Palms Hotel(Presidio, TX) with bikes loaded and ready to go. Sixteen riders were originally on the roster but due to medical, home, work and/or various other reasons 13 of us make a break for the border. After a nervous start through Ojinaga (road construction and resulting confusion) we find the toll road to Chihuahua. My freaking bike is not liking the altitude and does not want to pull in top gear. Great, its only 320 miles to Creel and my bike doesn’t want to keep up. Billyj hangs with me and we make our way at 60mph instead of the 65-70 the others were running. I was told I needed 130 mile range. My bike regularly gets 160+ on a tank but not today......@#$%# as my bike quits going down a hill at 90 miles. I flip reserve and get another 16. The math didn’t add up and I was going to be short. I ended up adding two fuel bottles. I did not want to be the problem bike on this trip but it wasn’t looking good. We beat into a pretty serious headwind and a couple of others had fuel problems but a few tipped bikes and everybody made the first fuel stop.
Bikes fueled up and a couple of tollbooths later we reach the outskirts of Chihuahua. I’m bummed because the bike is running like crap but am making the best of it. Turns out that the route is running us through the interior of the city. Before you know it, the ride becomes a hare scramble event as 13 bikes try to keep up with the leaders who are leaving lights and changing lanes like its the Gumball Rally. Eventually, we made it to the far side of town and nobody got ran over by a bus. For lunch, the bikes got fuel and most ate tacos. Because my bike was running like crap, I told the group that I was going ahead as I knew that they would soon catch me. As the altitude got higher, the bike ran worse. On flat ground, I was good for 55mph. Within miles, the lead group make their way by me.
At La Junta, I got fuel and knew I had bikes in front of me but was wondering where the bikes behind me were. I waited 10-15 min but nobody showed. On the way into town, there looked to be an alternate road that bypassed the town. I thought maybe they had gone that route and was now way behind. I kicked the bike off and away I went at my slow as fast as I could go pace. As I edged southwest, the terrain quickly changed from the high desert to a more Rocky Mountain kind of landscape. Along with that change in landscape came a change in altitude and temperature. That stinking altitude now found my thumper chugging to a mere 45mph. I felt like a turtle running with a bunch of hares. The landscape was dusted with the white stuff they use in Aspen. It was quite striking. I was finding it hard to pay attention to the now curvy road because I was so busy rubbernecking. All of that stopped when I came across the ice on the road. Needless to say, the pavement condition in front of my tire became my focus.
Finally, I saw a sign that said Creel 65. Crap! 65 more miles to go! Oh wait, that is 65 kilometers. I did the mileage conversion on the speedometer and realized that I should soon be there. Margarita’s here I come.....or so I thought. Boy, Creel was bigger than I thought it would be. I thought how hard could it be to find 12 bikes in front of a hotel. On my 4th swing through town Bill waved me down to the hotel. There were only 4 bikes and I made the 5th. We were missing 8 bikes. I unloaded my stuff and paid Anna at the front desk. I shook off the chill and was trying to piece what might of happened to the rest of the group. I kept my ear out for the rumbling of the rest of the group. 10....15....30...60min and still 8 bikes on the road after dark. I was getting a bad vibe. Five of us sat down to dinner when I heard the bikes pull in. I’m telling you that was the sweetest sound. I jumped up from the table and ran out front and got my roommate Billyj unloaded. I counted to make sure there were 8. They were all tired but accounted for. Turns out that there was a flat and a fuel bowl full of sand that held up the group. Like good soldiers, they gathered around the sick bike and got it fixed. Turns out that this was going to be the theme for the rest of the trip.
As the rest found something hot to eat, I turned my attention to my bike. I rode a vintage dualsport on this trip. 1984 Yamaha XT 600 with 4100 miles on the clock. I had prepped the bike as had the others but couldn’t find anything on jetting my bike for altitude. It’s kind of hard to figure out jetting for 8000ft when you live at 600ft. I did buy some jets though. My bike has a two barrel carb. One has the traditional needle with clip adjustments and the other barrel has a constant velocity slide. I leaned the needle on the primary by adjusting the clip and hoped that was going to work. Finishing that, I went in and went to bed.
DAY 2 THE NEW PLAN, THE STAIRCLIMB AND ROGERS BIRTHDAY
Before we know it, the alarm goes off and Billyj and I get up and make our way to the breakfast table. There is talk about the rest of the scheduled days ride/mileage. Two groups emerge. One group(Irondawg, Rocketman650, Ray, Ian, Teeds and Skinny) are going on with the original route that Irondawg laid out. The other group consisted of (me tx246, team swaney (Roger and Jeremy), ta2240, Micah and Billyj). As a group, we decided to see more and ride less. This group adopted the "nobody left behind policy". We had a riding buddy and were responsible for each other. There was no hesitation on my part to join this group as I ridden with two of these guys in Moab last year. On top of that four of the six had been here before.
We make plans to meet up with the group headed out on the original loop later in the week. We were headed to Batopillas and the other group was on their way to El Fuerte via Batopillas. We left a few minutes before they did but they soon passed us as we stopped at the lake outside of town to visit with the Tarahumara. A few pesos traded for some local crafts and we are on our way. The road is paved but has more twist than Sour Skittles. The bike is running better but not lean enough as it noses over at anything over 1/3 throttle. We all have a kicka$$ time doing our best MotoGP on the pavement. We all do pinch some of the seat foam off our bikes as ice still surprises us in the shady spots but nobody falls all the way down.
Soon enough, we are at the turn off to Batopillas. The road turns to dirt and we pick our way through the trees. We go through several small villages before the canyon breaks out before us. I’ve been to the Grand Canyon North Rim, Black Canyon of the Gunnison, and the Royal Gorge but this was something entirely different. From the top, the Canyon is green, deep, and full of views. The road flips on itself all the way to the bottom. We ride a bit, watch Jeremy do some rock climbing, take some pictures and generally just do a lot of gawking. As we wind our way to the bottom, we come to a switchback that has a downhill shortcut and we use it to pass a truck. This little downhill will bite us later.
The little villa of La Buffa passes under our wheels and we are cruising and admiring the sights when we come around the corner to find Teeds standing beside his XR650r and it is evident that he has fallen. We get him on his bike and Jeremy gets it started as Teeds knee is tender. We put him in our lineup and continue through the canyon. Twenty minutes later we run into the lead group and return their lost rider. We head into Batopillas looking for lunch. Roger heads for a previous destination. He soon finds it and negotiates for lunch. Lunch is at Reyna's house.....not resturante....but house as in her kitchen. The cheese enchiladas go down as easy as the Cokes. We make a date for breakfast and continue through town in search of gas. It is here that we run into the other group and find out that Skinny's brand new Husky just popped its CDI. That makes two out of the first group (one mechanical/one physical) looking for a way to the border.
We head back to our hotel just outside of town. It is above the road and just gorgeous. Roger negotiates and all of us pay up after making sure there is plenty of frio cerveza. Everybody gets cleaned up and goes into town to find the lady who has silver jewelry. I stay behind to work on the XT. I adjust the back drum brake and pop in the leaner secondary jet. This ended up being the ticket to making the XT sing later at altitude and on the way home. Then its up to the room and take a quick nap. I hear the rumble of bikes and walk out to the rail. During negotiations, Roger makes sure it is ok for us to bring our bikes up into the courtyard at the top of the stairs. Let the great stair climb begin. There are four flights and some clear it and some don’t. I don’t but hop off and run it the rest of the way up.
Turns out that it is Roger's birthday. We didn’t have any cake but we had beer and limes. We sat out on the veranda and got into the spirit of things. Some of us got "more" into the spirit of things. Before long, we were serving ourselves and the bottles were stacking up along the wall. Jeremy ends up having the more fun than the rest of us. He ended up feeling guilty and tried to give some his fun back. The lime tree accepted it as well as the dog. We have pictures but due to graphic content, we will be leaving those out. Six of us knocked off 41 Sols. We settle some dysfunctional family issues and generally have a large time until the bar cooler had nothing left. We shared this hotel with one newlywed couple. Being tired and out of beer, the noise level drops as we retire to our rooms. Snoring starts up as soon as the lights go out.
DAY 3 THE CHURCH, THE WATERPUMP AND THE 8 BALL
Day three has us packed and headed down the stairs on motorcycles. It’s off to Reyna’s for breakfast. My stomach had been giving me problems so opted for some bland scrambled eggs while everybody else had huevos mexicali. It sure looked good. After breakfast, it was off to Satevo and to look at the "Lost Church". We soon find it as Billyj had been there before. There were kids in the courtyard and we handed out suckers and tootsie rolls. The church was unlocked for us and we admired the building inside and out. A stop that was very worthwhile. We headed back into town to get fuel and head back out of the Canyon the way we came in.
We then ran into the Group that was supposed to be in El Fuerte yesterday. We chat a bit and they head off as they are already a day behind. We run into downed riders Teeds and Skinny at Hotel Mary's in the plaza. They have not secured rides back to Creel as of yet but are making phone calls. Billyj offers to look for a truck but they are sure there is nothing going out today, as it is Sunday. Billyj is fluent in Spanish and looking back we should have found them a ride.
We fall into formation and give high fives to all of the kids as we ride out of town. Soon we have run the length of the canyon and cross the bridge. It is straight up from here and we arrive at the little switchback shortcut which is now a challenging uphill instead of downhill. I watch Jeremy think about it as he circles by it. I race up to the top to take pictures. As I get to the topside via the road, I see Billyj make it up. I’m looking down and see Micah's bike on its side. This could be bad as ta2240 is waving for us to come back down.
It is bad as the bike fell hard on the right side and drove the bash plate into the waterpump cover. It is now in thirty odd pieces. Roger has that "you a$$clowns" look going on. Before we could even get tools out, we hear the rumble of a vehicle on this very lightly traveled road. It looks like an empty stakebed truck and we wave it down. Out hops the driver and an occupant. A 50ish clean-cut cowboy surveys the situation and talks with Billyj. He agrees to get the bike to the pavement but cant haul us to Creel as they need to go to Parral, which is in the opposite direction. The 6 of us hand load the mortally wounded DRZ into the back of the truck and Micah is tying the bike down as best he could. While that is going on cowboy admires Rogers mini vise grips. Roger responds with "you keep". The friendly cowboy is conversing as best he can when he whips out a bag and offers us something that is illegal in these United States. Each of us politely decline as he sticks his key into the stuff and snorts it off his key. We are laughing and in shock. Micah is unaware of what just happened and we decide he probably doesn’t need to know. Micah plans on riding in the back with his bike but we insist he ride up front and take his helmet with him. You see, ta2240 and Roger are LEO in the US and ta2240 said holy @$#$, that was an 8 ball which is slang for a very large personal stash. We mount our bikes and take off up the hill.
We beat the truck to the pavement junction and get something to drink. It isn’t long and the truck pulls into the store. Before we can unload the bike, we find another truck that is heading to Creel. Friendly Cowboy gets us all hooked up and tied down in the new truck. Friendly Cowboy is cutting lengths of rope to tie the bike in the new truck but is having trouble with his smaller type knife. Roger whips out a nice SO knife and tells Friendly to keep it. We ask Micah about his ride up the canyon and he proceeds to tell us a story. Friendly made a comment about Micah’s sunglasses, which were red lenses. Micah told him "you try" as he handed them to him. Friendly put them on and looked in the mirror. Micah then replies "Ohhhh El Diablo!" and they both got a laugh. Friendly then asked how much Micah paid in US for them because he wanted to buy them. Micah insisted he keep them and didn’t want any money. Friendly pulled his wallet out and said " Me No Bandito!" Micah convinced him it was gift for getting him to the road.
Creel is still there and we make it back to Hotel Margarita's. Same routine as we unload, clean up, and look for beer before dinner. Micah and bike arrive and we unload. We consider our options and decide our best bet is to have a water pump cover pulled from a buddy's bike and have it overnighted. Turns out fastest delivery to Creel from Houston is 6 days. Next best alternative is to have it shipped to Chihuahua in 2 days. That is what is decided on and phone calls are made. Thanks to all that made that happen(Michah's wife and greasemonkey). We go to a restaurant and end the day thanking our lucky stars with all things considered. I make my way to an internet cafe and let the family know that I'm still alive. I get back to the room and Jeremy has started the surgery on the cover. We are missing several significant pieces but the seal portion is intact. He has started with JB Weld and has most of the pieces together. I whip out my tools and pull apart my feeler gauges. The brass one makes a nice addition to the Frankencover. In the morning, Jeremy and Billyj look for anything remotely looking like a bike shop with no luck. They do return with rtv silicone. We sealed the inside with the rtv and added a layer of moose putty on the outside. Hey! A can of spray paint and it would look factory.
SEE NEXT POST FOR REST OF REPORT
