The Squamidian Report – June 5 / 16
Issue #732
Including:
The Ontarion
Hi All,
I'd know since last fall that the bike was in imminent need of a new
battery. It was showing all the signs. Slow and difficult starting,
weak engine turn-over during starts and even start stalls where
compression was high due to engine heat causing the starter to actually
stall instead of turning the engine over. That would happen when I've
just stopped long enough for gas and there wasn't enough time for
cooling down before re-starting. I'd intended to drop in to a Harley
dealer first chance I got to pick up a new one but due to a whole lot
of things, that just never happened. I knew time was ticking but, well,
you know how it goes.
Last Sunday a bunch of us met at Horseshoe Bay and then rode up to the
Upper Squamish Valley, to the end of pavement where we dismounted to
enjoy the scenery. When it was time to mount up, the bike almost didn't
start, it barely turned over, but it caught and away we went. When we
got back to Squamish we pulled into the usual gas station to fuel up.
My luck had run out. When I went to start the bike, nothing. She
wouldn't even turn over. Bummer. I figured the best option would be to
have one of the other riders run my up to my place (less than 10
minutes away up the hill) where I could get the truck and my jumper
cables. By the time we'd come up with a plan, the bike had sat for 10
minutes and I figured it couldn't hurt to give it one more try. It
turned over and the engine caught so all was well. The group headed for
the city and I headed home.
Once parked in my garage, I checked my owner's manual for any info that
I should know before pulling the dead battery. There is nothing hard or
mysterious about pulling a battery but on some bikes they can be hard
to get to, and my bike has an alarm system that must be disabled before
disconnecting the battery. Once I'd glanced through the info I headed
out to the garage and dug down to the battery and removed it. On my
bike you must remove a side cover in order to get at the main fuse
which must be pulled with the security FOB in close proximity. In order
to remove the side cover you must first remove a saddle bag but thats
easy enough to do. Then, I had to remove the seat which is held on by
one single bolt at the back but that bold is a bit hard at get to as
its under the tour pac. Once all thats out of the way, two screws hold
a cover in place and a few electronic gizmos need to be gently set out
of the way and theres the battery, down in a snug fitting cradle.
Harley does something quite nice there, they have a nylon strap running
under the battery so you can get the battery out. You pull up on the
strap and up comes the battery, a very heavy batter at that. So,
battery is out, its Sunday afternoon and I need a new one. I knew I
could easily take a run into the city the next morning and get a
battery but it couldn't hurt to check with the several places here in
town that were open, You just never know. Canadian tire actually stocks
that particular battery but our local store was out of stock. They gave
me a price and the part number and informed me that the CTC in North
Van had one in stock. I could always go there on Monday morning. Next
place on my list to try tends to carry a surprising array of stuff as
it services both the public and the resource industries. I walked in
and told the guy at the counter what I was after and he asked me how
many I'd like. Even though the old battery was a 'Harley' battery, that
battery is in common use in all sorts of other types of machines. The
pice they gave was $7 more that the same battery at CTC so no big deal,
it would cost a lot more than that to drive into the city to get one
and probably a LOT more than that if I went to a Harley dealer. I took
the new battery home, installed it into the bike and all is well. Funny
how much faster and easier an engine starts when its battery is healthy.
By the way, the '3rd party' none-Harley battery available through the
retail outlets is the exact same battery I'd have gotten through a
Harley dealer, same part number, same manufacturer, just without the HD
logo sticker meaning its a lot less costly than from an HD dealer.
*
Oh, not that most of you would care, but I lost my
hearing again. It had never fully returned all the way back to 'normal'
and I'd figured I'd give it some time. However, time didn't help, it
started going down hill and then one morning this week I woke to a nice
quiet world. So, back in to see an MD and this time the prescription is
for a different kind of med and some other stuff to help unplug the
inner ear plumbing. When all you can hear is nothing but annoying
confusing noise it gets very frustrating. Within a day of being on the
new meds I could actually hear again and the constant pressure in both
ears started to abate. Cool. Mind you, there is a down side to the
return of my hearing, I can't pretend to not hear 'The Wife' when she
says something to me. Oh well.
doug
****
****
THE ONTARION REPORT
Hello everyone!
I was going to opt out of this week’s column due to the fact that we’ve
had a difficult week having had my sister Lynda pass away last Sunday
afternoon. However upon sitting at the computer to write this week’s
Ontarion I realized that today’s column is being written on Lynda’s
72nd birthday, June 4th. I figured I’d at least say a few words of
tribute to my one and only sister. She was the eldest of the three of
us kids and I was the youngest with my brother being in the middle.
Being the eldest and four years my senior she of course took to caring
for her new baby brother immediately after I appeared in my mother’s
arms at what was then KW Hospital. As it turned out, she and I became
very close to each other during our formative years and on through our
teenage years as well. She was a bit of a rebel during her teens and I
of course being the youngest got blamed for all the other shenanigans
that took place in our North Ward home. My brother being the middle
child and a choir boy non the less, could do no wrong in the eyes of
our parents and the facts could be staring my parents straight in the
face as to who (the middle child) caused the ruckus or problem when
their backs were turned and they’d look right through him to
immediately blame either Lynda or me! “But mum, it wasn’t me it was
Brent who started it” one of us or both of us would state but who got
the whack across the head? Lynda or me! I guess their reasoning was
that angelic little Brent would never have started such a naughty
situation so it had to be one of us “rebels”! Oh well, we managed to
get through our home life by sticking up for each other and supporting
one another and I loved Lynda for her loyalty to me. She in turn got
support from me as much as my word carried any weight with my folks.
Don’t get me wrong now, our parents loved all of us but it just seemed
that Lynda and I were the troublemakers and the “middle Angel” simply
as I said, could do no wrong! Thus, Lynda and I had a close
relationship for many years of our lives.
I’ll relate one short story about our relationship
to bring this to a close and then I’ll say no more! In our teens, Lynda
of course was the first to get her “Driver’s License” and she figured
it would bring her loads of independence. Well, it seemed like in most
families the parents were reluctant to let the inexperienced teenagers
borrow the car for an evening out with their friends or any other
reason. The first few times she asked dad for the car he was
cooperative and with a few rules to accompany her for the evening he
allowed her to take his cherished 1959 Buick LeSabre out on her own. Of
course that generosity didn’t last all that long. With one tiny
disagreement that seemed to crop up, the next time she asked to borrow
the car, the answer was a flat no! When she asked “Why not?” she was
told, “I said NO and NO means NO!” It hardly seemed fair that he didn’t
or wouldn’t giver her a reason so when she pressed him for a reason he
inevitably tossed up her previous indiscretion of coming home a half
hour late the last time she had the car! I guess an apology for
bringing the car home a tad late that night didn’t carry enough weight
to wipe the slate clean. She went for months without being allowed to
borrow the family car. During that next year I had saved up some money
of my own by working at the neighbourhood “Supertest Station” and had
managed to pass my “Chauffeur’s license”. The driving lessons were a
birthday gift from my parents for my 16th birthday.
By then, Lynda was now almost 20 and had had to practically beg to have
had the family car a mere few times for her own use. I went to her
after getting my license and promised her that when I was allowed to
buy my own car, I’d let her share it with me whenever she needed it!
She was very happy and grateful for the offer. It wasn’t long and I
asked a customer who had dealt at the Supertest Station if he would be
interested in selling me his 1951 Morris Minor 1000 and to my surprise
he said “Bring your dad to look at the car and we’ll see!” So that
night I went home and told my dad about the car. He said do you have
enough money for the car and insurance? I showed him my bankbook with
over $500.00 in it that I had been saving since I was 11 and he was
indeed impressed. It had taken me over 5 years to save up but it was
all there! The next week we went to look at the car and talk to the
owner. He said if I wanted the little car that he would sell it to me
for $100.00! My dad ok’d the deal and by the next evening I was the
proud owner of a ’51 Morris. About one week later, I had taken Lynda
and the rest of the family for rides in my prized automobile. She
came to me one day and asked if she might borrow the car that evening
to go out with a girlfriend and I said “No problem Lynda and I don’t
care what time you bring it home, just be careful!” She hugged me
and was almost in tears that I hadn’t made some fatherly excuse as to
why she couldn’t use the car, such as “It’s low on gas!” or “The brakes
aren’t very good!” or WHATEVER!
That evening she borrowed my car and went out feeling happy and
unrestricted! The following day, I asked Lynda “How was the car last
night?” She looked skyward and replied, “It was HEAVENLY, thank you so
much!”.
In my thoughts this past few days after reflecting back on my big
sister’s life, I thought of her comment when asked how the car was and
it came to me that I hope there’s a beautiful 1951 Morris Minor 1000
waiting in Heaven’s parking lot for Lynda when she arrives!
God bless you Lynda and drive Safe!
Love you! … Greg
*
That’s it for this week folks!
Thanks for tuning in and I’ll look forward to talking to all of you again next week in The Ontarion Report!
Bye for now … Greg
Something To Think About>
What do cars run on in Heaven? Could it be LOVE?
****
Have a good one..
the doug
The Fine Print!
The articles in these issues are the sole property of the persons writing them and should be respected as such.
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