The magic of the machine and the ride with the Harvest Moon

On Saturday night, September 29th, I finally got to take the inaugural ride on my rebuilt 1984 Kawasaki GPz900R. Two summers had gone by since I took apart a pretty abused and unloved machine. Many eBay searches and purchases, scraped knuckles, spilled fluids, dangerous fume inhalation, and a whole other donor machine purchased last February gave me the parts and the experience of taking a bike to the bare frame and bringing it back to life. At the same time, I had ambitiously ventured to rebuild another machine, a 1981 Yamaha XV920RH. Things would have gone much smoother I think, concentrating on one machine but I am the impatient one, wrongly thinking that I could ride one while fixing the other.

Finally, the Ninja was ready enough to roll. New plates installed, helmet on and away I rode for the first time in nearly 20 years. I was nervous, and rusty, but after a while I felt one with the road again…a feeling one can only get on two wheels and a raspy engine underneath. I didn’t want to return home; the moon was full, the air refreshing, and the motorcycle was running flawlessly. It was an amazing feeling and brought back many a memory from long ago.

Different this time though, was that I had something to do with this machine’s performance. I had solved  a million technical problems, crawled around the garage floor and sweated and swore, replaced parts and tested and made the damn thing run again. I could feel every part I worked on, visualize the internals, in awe and wonder that I could accomplish such a feat. There is no other feeling, as Matthew Crawford so eloquently put it in “Shop Class as Soulcraft”, in building and riding your own machine.  What a night.

What’s in your toolbox?

Nothing, except procrastination and time stealers, makes or breaks a project than having, or not having, the right tools. You are finally moving along, taking apart that engine or putting one back together, then Bam! Showstopper number one hundred. Can’t reach that bolt, can’t cut that part, thing won’t move that should or thing is moving that shouldn’t. Reaching over and pulling out that tone ool out of the toolbox and completing that task is a precious feeling. Endorphins rush in. But the opposite…well frustration is the only frustrating word.

Over the years, I have accumulated boxes of tools for plumbing, woodworking, mechanics, model making, constructing art, etc., etc, and yet there still comes the time when the stores are all closed and the world grinds to a halt for lack of some $2 thing. However, making something to take over a store bought tool and getting past the hurdle, well, that’s double endorphins!

Make blog, and Wired, has a feature on Adam Savage’s toolbox, he of Mythbusters fame and hero of DIY. Nice pic, and total list of contents of his traveling toolbox here:

http://blog.makezine.com/2012/08/27/adam-savages-custom-toolkit/

Read and learn!

The essence of the machine

A nice little short video here, that sums up the feeling and the rationale for DIY and Maker phenomenon. “The essence of the machine is learning…”. So true. Working on restoring a couple of 1980s motorcycles right now (for the past year really) has really opened up my eyes to the truth as described by Matthew Crawford in “Shop Class as Soulcraft”; my bible. When you build, and fix and troubleshoot and solve hands-on problems, life comes alive and you learn…about your own self, the artificial limits you have imposed upon yourself, and the wonders of the machine, that human invention that continually progresses down through the ages. It is sometimes exasperating trying to solve seemingly intractable problems, sometimes painful with skinned knuckles and sore back, but at the end of the day, it is soul satisfying. Built, not bought, is the priceless lesson for young people today.

 

Three days of sweating and cursing and hurting to get the engine reinstalled into the frame, hopefully I won’t have to re-install again!

Why DIY, eh?

Just read a great column by Steve Cooper in the Sept 2012 Classic Motorcycle Mechanics called “Self Inflicted Suffering”. Cooper asks why anyone puts up with the trail and tribulations of home garage “spannering” old classic motorcycles…the time wasted looking for lost parts and tools, the aching muscles and joints crawling around machines, the cold, the heat, the sweat, the scrapped knuckles and knees. Achingly funny, but oh so true to life! I can so relate.

Well, I think it goes back to Pirsig’s “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance”, or more recently, Crawford’s “Shop Class as Soulcraft”. There is a richness of spirit and a soul satisfying feeling when, despite the blood, sweat and tears, you can reflect on the experience and say; “I did that”. In a consumer based world, being a producer is being king of the world.

“The place to improve the world is first in one’s own heart and head and hands, and then work outward from there.”
― Robert M. Pirsig, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry Into Values

“The satisfactions of manifesting oneself concretely in the world through manual competence have been known to make a man quiet and easy. They seem to relieve him of the felt need to offer chattering interpretations of himself to vindicate his worth. He can simply point: the building stands, the car now runs, the lights are on. Boasting is what a boy does, because he has no real effect in the world. But the tradesman must reckon with the infallible judgment of reality, where one’s failures or shortcomings cannot be interpreted away. His well-founded pride is far from the gratuitous “self-esteem” that educators would impart to students, as though by magic.”
― Matthew B. Crawford, Shop Class as Soulcraft: An Inquiry Into the Value of Work

In the beginning…

I always loved machines; coming from Canada’s motor city Windsor Ontario might be some of the reason. As oldest of 7 siblings, I guess I always wanted to be self reliant and do things my own way. In my early years I had motorcycles and dune buggies and cars, but I didn’t have a lot of experience, and I was frustrated by lack of tools, knowledge and skills; and as I got older and was building a career with computer technology, I didn’t work on machines much and lost touch. Things changed when after attending a few car shows I decided to get back into my interest in cars. I couldn’t get any car though, it had to be one that no one else had and some Internet research, the bane of productivity everywhere, I found what I was looking for, in a 1991 Pike Factory (Nissan) Figaro, a JDM car from Japan. Bought sight unseen, it was rougher around the edges than expected, and after some frustration finding good mechanical help I realized that I had to do it myself.

As a technology educator, we always preach that one learns by doing, and I can tell you now, there is nothing more true than this dictum in education. When my car suffered an overheating problem that killed the engine, I began to get involved in rebuilding the Figaro’s engine myself, and started on a path that has proven very enlightening.