Piglet: My Yamaha xs650

It was way back in November of 2017 that Brenda and I drove to Mercer Island to look at a motorcycle. I  had my Harley, but I had been looking for something different--something to have some fun with. At first, I was leaning towards a Honda CX500, but I had given up on them because demand was pushing the prices past the point of reality. Too much money being asked for piles of shit. Instead, I decided to pursue something else, and when an ad for a 1981 Yamaha xs650 for $475 popped up, I had to jump on it. 

It was a nasty weather day, with snow flurries keeping most people off the roads and inside their warm, comfy homes. It was also a Sunday, so most folks that were out were likely either shopping at a mall or going to or from church. We drove up and checked it out, getting there quickly thanks to light traffic and being able to use the carpool lanes.

It was somewhat neglected and hadn't run in years, so naturally I wasn't able to hear it run, but it had excellent compression, and all the parts were there. Most importantly, it also had a clear title. It showed 21k miles on the odometer. The owner had apparently used it as his commuter for several years, but it got parked when he started having issues with not wanting to start or something like that. He said he gave up on it when he couldn't find the cause. From that point on it had sat outside, a victim of the elements. Here are a couple of pictures I took when we stopped at Lowe's on the way home. (It had a seat, but I took it off just to make sure it didn't become a Frisbee and disappear for good somewhere along the way.)

 

I never feel I actually own a vehicle I buy until I get the title changed over to me, so after that happened the following Monday I tore into it. The fun part was tearing all the crap stuff off it, like the mangled turn signals, the footrest crash bar, the remains of the hacksawed-off sissy bar--that sort of thing.

Sitting outside in our moist Washington weather for who-knows-how-long takes its toll on things, and this bike was no exception, but it's a wonder it wasn't in worse shape considering that the owner's property was all trees, shadows, and moss. The parts that were bare aluminum fared the worst, like the wheels and engine.

 

The first real money I spent on it was for brakes and wheel bearings. The rear wheel was in especially sad shape internally and would hardly roll. The drum brake actuator wasn't just sticking--it was so dirty and gummed up from neglect that it had to be driven out with a hammer. The rear got new brake shoes, and the front got new pads. While I had them off, I worked the wheels over with some steel wool and fine sandpaper, then gave them a paint job.

 

 

Except for the header pipes, the the exhaust was shot. Both the crossover pipe and the mufflers were rusted through. They were also butt-ugly with rust. That didn't bother me though, because I'm not a fan of the stock "trumpet" mufflers anyway, and I figured I'd find good replacements.

 

The center stand had been broken, and someone had "fixed" it by welding something that looked like a small railroad spike onto it. It was horrible. I ended up buying a nice used one on Ebay that was from a newer model, with reinforced strength gussets on it.

I poured a little gas into the tank just to see how many leaks it would have. I knew it would leak, and I was right--it leaked from the petcock and poured out of the carbs with gusto. When I started looking into it, it was no wonder. For example, when I attempted to pull a fuel line off it disintegrated, along with the fuel filter it was attached to. 

 

When I pulled the petcock off the tank there was no reserve tube attached to it. I discovered it later when I took the gas tank off and heard it rattling around inside. 

 

Speaking of gas tanks, the inside of the tank was pretty clean, but I couldn't live with the dented outside. Because I had no interest in ever reattaching an OEM Yamaha side logo, I bought myself some bondo and went to work on it. I thought it came out pretty good for not knowing shit about body work. I ended up shooting it with good ol' Krylon semi-gloss black.

 

 

 

I needed to do something with the exhaust. I had a couple of Harley mufflers that I was never going to use, so I did a little digging around my local O'Reilly's store and found a couple of pipe reducers of the right size to allow the Harley mufflers to attach to the header. I then mocked up the mufflers where it would allow the pipes to fit by the footpegs and brake pedal without interference. After welding the reducers and some extra pipe to each header I cut them to length and welded a bracket on each muffler to keep everything nice and sturdy. They came out pretty good, with no rubbing on anything. I shot some high-heat black on the bare steel parts just to keep them from rusting. 

 

 

A source of irritation for me was the rear shocks. They were nasty with rust, the chrome "retainers" were both dented, and one of them had a broken reflector. They were butt-ugly. At first, I took both reflectors off and spun the retainer around, but then it had a stupid hole facing outward. Instead, I fabricated a little clamp tool that allowed me to disassemble them so I could clean up the springs, and while I had them apart I also trimmed the bad portion off each of the retainers before reassembling them. The difference it pretty noticeable.

 

 

 

The wiring was a whole additional set of problems. The headlight bucket was a complete mess or wires, and when I started trying to figure things out, I kept running into badly-wrapped connections, disintegrating connectors, and corrosion. It felt like every connector I was pulling apart was also falling apart. I ended up buying a generic plug kit from Ebay, and by gently removing each spade connector from it's respective plug I was able to replace them all. 

 

 

 

 

I had my doubts about the original glass fuses up above the battery, so I did some rewiring and installed a blade fuse holder down in a safer area under the right side cover. Easy to get to, and much better connections.

 

 

The carburetors were in a pretty serious state, but that was expected. Like most neglected motorcycles (or anything with an engine for that matter), the fuel bowls were a mess of dust and gooey residue from rotten gas that had long since evaporated. Being my first experience with a multi-carburetor motorcycle, I took lots of pictures to help with linkage reassembly. The seals on the "T" that splits off fuel to each carburetor are one of those things you can't buy from Yamaha any longer, so I did what fellow internet enthusiasts did: I pressed a small piece of fuel line into each carburetor where the "T" connector goes, and trimmed them flush, then gently pressed the two carburetors together with a clamp. It made a good, tight seal.

 

I wasn't planning on using the front fender. It was actually in pretty good shape, but I just don't like the style that the xs650 Specials use. If it were an early xs650 I would have used it, but the style was just totally different. Instead, I opted for no fender, and added a fork brace from Hugh's Handbuilt. The fit and workmanship are both great, and being a lover of flat track racing as I am, I like the look, too. 

 

All of the things I've mentioned so far were done in the first year or so that I owned it. I got it started once, felt pleased that I didn't buy a bad engine, and pretty much forgot about it after that. After all, I already had a Harley that I rode when the urge struck me, so it was a secondary thing anyway, and it was kinda put on the back burner.

During the years since, I ended up with several other things that derailed me from the Yamaha. I ended up buying a different truck (same year, but 3/4-ton instead of half ton), which of course, was another project. (I rarely buy something that doesn't need work!) I also ended up smitten by Honda 3-wheelers for a while, and before I knew it, had five of them. After growing tired of all the space they were taking up in my shop and constantly having to move them around, I sold them all off. Then, I ended up buying a Jeep CJ7, which ended up being a pretty big project (mainly due to prior owner neglect.) Shortly after acquiring that, I came to the realistic conclusion that I really didn't have much interest in riding the Harley any more. I was getting old, and it was just too much to handle weight-wise. I felt almost afraid to ride it anymore. So, after 20 years, the Harley went down the road. We had a good run, but its time was over. It was time for someone else to have some fun with it. When that was gone and the truck and Jeep were both finished, I eyeballed the Yamaha sitting over in a corner of the shop under a layer of sawdust.

It beckoned to me. "Oh look, I still have a motorcycle. I should ride it!"

I had several things finished that I've covered already, but it never really got to the point of being rideable. Like I said, I only had it running once, and it didn't run all that great. I think I just felt satisfied that I didn't buy a total pile of shit then stopped puttering with it. Now, freshly energized after all the work that I had to on the Jeep, the Yamaha seemed like child's play, and I jumped back into it with both feet.

I finalized all the wiring snafu's and started working it over. When I first bought it, it was still in "hobby mode" with me, mentally. I avoided spending much money on it. I was constantly cutting corners, rebuilding instead of replacing, and generally just seeing what I could get away with. I had given it crappy stuff to stay on the cheap. Crappy tail light, crappy seat--stuff like that. Instead of replacing things, I cleaned or adjusted things to get by. Now things were different. The list of upgrades ended up being substantial. It ended up with new:

Texavina seat
Kenda tires
Handlebars
Mirrors
Left and right handlebar controls
Battery
Front brake master cylinder
Clutch plates and springs
LED tail light
LED turn signals

...and lots of little things.

A lot of modifications were done, too. I shortened the seat release latch, shortened the center stand by 3/4", wired indicator lights into the headlight bucket (I decided against having a tach and speedometer), built a bracket for the front turn signals, and lots of little things. I built myself a manometer and got the carburetors synchronized, and finally had a turnkey motorcycle! The last thing I did was to go down to the DMV and get license plate and tabs, and contact the insurance company.

Here's the Piglet in its current glory. What a blast to ride! It fires up right away, and sounds real nice. My old '91 Harley softail was in perfect condition and needed nothing, but I'll take this bike any day of the week. The fun factor is off the charts.

 

 

 

Idiots Should Not Be Allowed Near Cars

It’s no secret that I like older vehicles. They’re cheaper, they're made better, and they're generally much easier to work on.

I went shopping for a Jeep a couple of years ago. Because I’m tall enough for it to matter, I needed a CJ7 instead of your typical CJ5 or other “short” Jeep. I needed legroom. Because they only made them from 1976 through 1986, any CJ7 is going to be over 40 years old. I opted for a 1981 model with a 4.2 6-cylinder engine in it. I didn’t want a V8, and I didn’t want anything newer than ‘81 because that was the last year of the “narrow track” axles.

But I digressed.

When I scoped it out, I gave it a good eyeball, and could pretty much see its many needs and shortcomings. (I’m not new at this sort of thing.)  I could see that someone had dumped a lot of money into it at some point in the past, and I knew it wasn’t the older gentleman I bought it from because everything on the Jeep looked a few years old. He also admitted that he had bought it without knowing much about Jeeps.

I didn’t drive it before I bought it like I usually do when buying vehicles. For some reason, I treated the Jeep more like buying a used motorcycle than I would have when buying a car—like it was a hobby project instead of a “driver.” I did listen to it run and played with the gears and other things, but that’s about it. Looking back, I’m glad I didn’t actually drive it in 4-wheel drive or I may not have bought it (more on that later.)

Some of the costly upgrades it had on it were Moser one-piece rear axles, a nearly new Bestop soft top, Clifford intake manifold, dual-outlet headers (I’m not a fan of headers, but oh well), Holley 390 cfm 4-barrel, D.U.I. brand HEI distributor and wires, new windshield, new MileMarker 1050 hydraulic winch, and 4” lift kit. I’m sure all of these upgrades together cost one of the previous owners what I paid for the whole Jeep.

I have no idea if anything was done on the inside of the engine (such as different camshaft, etc.), but the notoriously-leaky OEM valve cover had been upgraded, so I knew some work had been done on it besides the intake and headers upgrade. I was glad to see that the dual-outlet headers were combined into a well-done single exhaust. In my opinion, dual exhaust on a 6-cylinder is overkill. There just isn’t all that much room under a Jeep for duals anyway.

I bought it up near Anacortes, Washington, and I drove it about 110 miles down to my place. It drove ok (not great), and the brakes were barely passable, but I got home without incident. I waited to start working on it until I had all the paperwork and licensing in my name. Here’s what I brought home:

 

Once I actually owned the Jeep I started wrenching on it—starting with the brakes. The rear brake shoes looked good, but peeking into the wheel cylinders told a different story. Definite need for replacement. I found that removing the brake lines from each of them was not going to happen. Neither of them would budge. I actually had to cut the brake lines to get the wheel cylinders off. After removing the shoes and wheel cylinders both, here’s what I found: One cylinder was a mud hole, and the other was dry as the Sahara desert and frozen solid. I couldn’t even free it up with a hammer: 

The shoe retaining springs were lifeless, and the emergency brake spring was in 3 pieces:

While working on those, other things became apparent, such as this cracked fuel return line and wasted axle snubber:

 

 

 

About this time I started in on the front wheels. The disc brake pads were almost shot, but were still barely usable. Knowing I was going to replace the brake rotors and the brake pads both, I started taking everything apart. I found sleeve bearings almost totally dried out, with a few of the needle bearings actually lying sideways!

 

That’s about the time I noticed looseness and clunking in the left front axle. Imagine my surprise when I pulled it out and disassembled the u-joint. Zero grease in any of the four caps, and some of the needle bearings had actually been ground down into smaller pieces:

 

  

When I tore the right side apart, it was much the same, but at least two of the bearing caps still had some grease in them:

 

  

Had I actually tried to drive it in four wheel drive I probably would have completely broken an axle or worse. (Looking back, it’s probably a wonder I made it 110 miles home with it.)

You know the old adage: One thing leads to another, which leads to another, etc. Here’s what things looked like only a couple days after I bought it:

 

With a 40+ year-old Jeep things were bound to be bad, but I really struggle when I see total neglect. I felt like someone (probably the idiot I bought it from) should be bitch-slapped and forbidden to ever own a vehicle again.

I found several more things as I went, such as the badly-installed (and too big) steering stabilizer that was rubbing on the tie rod:

 

 

How about the condition of this clutch linkage? It was ready to expire:

 

 

 

This was what I found behind one of the turn signal lights. What kind of an idiot would do this? I can see someone accidentally pinching a wire, but how could you not see it while plugging the wires together?

  

 

 

When I saw that the dash speakers had actually been cut off instead of just removing the four nuts that held it, I stopped being amazed and astounded. I just shook my head.

 It’s pretty apparent that some people should never be allowed to work on cars.