Thursday and the sun is shining, a tad cold but no complaints for the 2nd of November, I decided to give the T3 a run and hopefully get some Autumnal photos. I was riding down the A702 towards Biggar and then for a wobble around the borders thinking life was good after a slightly depressing week dealing with my Norton rebuild but being thwarted at every turn by shite parts but even the Guzzi gods conspired against me, just outside Biggar my 850 T3 became a 425 single (again). I pulled into a layby and noticed petrol pissing everywhere, of course as it was a shortish run I made the stupid mistake of not taking tools, not even my swiss army knife which fixes 60% of roadside issues. By pulling and poking I managed to stem the flow of fuel going over my hot exhaust, the fuel pipe (which I've never been happy with and have been meaning to fix was kinked, the kink meant the force of the full tank of fuel was forcing its way out of the tap union which I then found it was slack, roadside bodgery got it going and with no fuel leaks but that was the end of the run, just a return to base. As I entered the Morrisons triangle (a mile triangle surrounding my local supermarket where all the drivers are blind, stupid and suicidal) I was trying to get away from a particularly nasty Audi owner, who obviously has a small penis when I heard a rattle on acceleration, not good, I limped home despondent. Fast forward a couple of hours, new fuel pipe of more suitable robustness and anti kink fitted and all back together, a test run revealed no rattle and a perfectly running 850 again, I suspect the rattle was due to the bodge I had done to lift the back of the tank, the vibration at 3000 revs setting up a worrying noise. All good now, just thought I'd write it up to let you know that at the moment I'm thinking old bikes are crap!
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| 425 Single Guzzi |
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| Kinked hose |
