Yesterday, I got up bright & early, mission statement in head "Get the ST flat twin going for the crank up tonight".
I needed to make up a petrol pipe, modify the base of the EIC magneto to fit the crankcase, find a suitable drive dog with the correct early (small) size taper, find a drive disk & assemble it all, timing the engine by guess and by God as TDC is found by watching a soap bubble formed over the plug 'ole - I kid you not, it works well..
Easy.
Well, actually, it was, it all went like clockwork with no hitches, glitches or problems. Bit boring really apart from the fact that the main jet had apparently been concreted over at some time, but once I had it sussed, that too was readily fixed.
Brrrm! I was quite taken aback when it fired up so readily & I think the ignition timing must be so close to spot on as to require no twiddling. Carburetion and governance was sorted out whilst filling the garage with a miasma of dense smoke from my nice oily bores (no oil control rings on its cast iron pistons, obviously like that from new.) There is a bit of an oil leak, but it's from the sight glass, so easily fixed.
It was only four o'clock, so it got a good polish & I had a leisurely tea. It was raining off & on all day, but as time came to set off for the crank up, down it came - stair rods were not in it. Still, I thought, just because it's raining here, doesn't mean it's not a nice evening at The Court Hotel. It rained all the way there (15 miles or so) and I arrived to find it in full swing, the British sense of strength in adversity was well to the fore. It was chucking it down & soggy-backed greybeards splashed around in the puddles tending their equally damp charges. Hunched figures squatted in vans & in one instance, a body reclined under a seven tonner in dry discomfort.
I found the two people I needed to talk to about an idea I had for a crank up, showed my New Toy to a couple of interested parties, got back in the car & went home.
Bearing in mind that this has been the hottest, driest July since the last Woolly Mammoth looked speculatively at the retreating ice, I thought this was singularly irritating. Bloody rain ............
Still, the Stuart Turner goes now - my cup is always half full.
Regards,
Kim Siddorn
Diplomacy done, plates spun, fires fought, maidens eaten - well, three out of four ain't bad