Motorbikes

It doesn’t sound too hard, does it, to buy a pair of coveralls that fit? Well, I am female….

Years ago, I purchased a pair of navy blue size 38 regular Dickies coveralls for use around the house and garage. They got about 10 minutes of use before they were ditched for old jeans and a ratty tshirt. Why? Remember what I said about coveralls that fit?

Admittedly, there aren’t quite as many women wearing coveralls as there are guys out there, so it’s no surprise that a decently-fitting pair is hard to come by. Add in that a fair number of the women out there who do wear coveralls aren’t built like Lauren Bacall, and you have a market that isn’t all that attractive to coveralls makers. Because it consists of about four total women.

The difference between coveralls for men and coveralls for women is easy to spot. Women’s coveralls have room for boobs and butts. They also have shorter back-waists – the distance from the collar to the waistline. Mine went into the bin-of-things-we-don’t-know-what-to-do-with because minus the boob and butt room and being too long on the top, I was spending more time adjusting them than a Major League Baseball player spends adjusting his you-know-whats.

Last summer, I was going through that bin and pulled out the coveralls. Hmm, project? Sure! I’d already re-sized and significantly altered a two-layer Nomex suit for racing cars, how hard could a pair of coveralls be? The good designers at Dickies were a lot more serious about these things staying together than peeps over at Speed Sport Racing! The coveralls took me over eight hours simply to dismantle to the point that alteration could begin. Adding to the mess was the most complex elastic waist I’ve ever seen, one that requires a special machine to properly install. I got the bulk of the fitting done over the next few weeks, but the elastic waist and its complexity beat me, and I put the project on hold for a while.

Until today.

Alterations are typically bread and butter work for a seamstress. Relatively simply even when complex, and rarely requiring more than a few pins here or there to set up seams. Occasionally, you get something over the top, and you have to resort to machine basting. At the very tip-top of annoying and difficult seams come the ones you have to hand baste – sew by hand before you sew them properly with a machine. I had set aside the annoying elastic waist when exuberant pinning did not solve the problem. Sometime in the winter, I took a stab at it with machine basting. Today, I sucked in a lot of air and got out the pin cushion and thread: I would hand baste this thing and finish it off. Four hours later, three spent out in my garden in the sunshine, and I was rewarded for my effort with a pair of very stock-looking, properly fitting coveralls.

They look completely off-the-shelf. I like that. I just wish they had been off-the-shelf to begin with!

That is all, really. Turned over 3500kms on the not a big Ford truck this week. It’s surprisingly liberating to ride. I had no idea that the biggest benefit would be being far more calm in traffic. You would think I would be nervous with all of the cages around me, but instead, I feel safer. I can get away from them. I can avoid the worst traffic. I can filter. I’m still not ready to split, but I’m sure that will come, probably with a Ninjette or something else a little smaller. This truly has been a game-changer for me, and the game is now on.

It’s one of my favorite literary lines ever, from Michael Crichton’s The Andromeda Strain. The scientist in question is pondering whether successful treatment of the symptoms displayed by his patient means that the disease causing them is actually cured.

So it goes with electronic diagnoses involving logic boards. Stray voltage at one pin results in a strange signal at another one. The voltage can have three sources, but which one is it?

For example, a artificially high (500rpm) tach reading on an F650GS that remains after shut off for several seconds. Coupled with poor running/starting. Symptoms occur only when bike is started wet after cold rain. Brought up to running temp and restarted, the problem is gone. Signal path is a single star circuit of the ECU, the #1 coil, and the tach signal feed. Diagnosis starts with check air and fuel to rule them out for the poor running aspect. Both are fine. Second step – pull plugs. As expected the #1 plug is funny looking, not bad, but a bit pink on the insulator. The primary resistance on the coil is a hair high when the coil body is wet.

Is this a symptom, or is it the disease? I’ll find out when I pull the tach apart. I hope.

All my life, I’ve been pretty good about patents and trademarks. So I’m a bit confused as to why BMW isn’t. The “Motronic” in my bike is actually a Hella product called BMS, as I just learned from the FAQs over at f650.com. This explains a great deal about why it bears so little resemblance to a modern Bosch engine management system, even as it bears resemblances to pieces of so many others.

Did I say anything about wanting to learn a new EFI control codec? No, I did not.

edit – when I wrote this post, I was under the impression that Motronic meant Motronic. Not to BMW, who call any engine control unit Motronic, regardless of whether they are violating Bosch’s trademark rights or not… See above.

I am a card-carrying K-Jetronic girl. When I first discovered K-Jet-E in my 1982 VW Rabbit Convertible, I leaned back in awe and remarked to myself that this is how I would do fuel injection if I had to: I would take apart a carburettor and distribute its parts liberally around the engine bay, making sure that each had its place and did not interfere with the others, all being individually adjustable and controllable (einstellbar und kontrollierbar, auf Deutsch). Just like K-Jet. I regard K-Jet as one of the peaks of elegant engineering design, and certainly one of the coolest systems to ever leave the halls of Robert Bosch Gmbh. It is also simple and easy to work with, provided you understand the basics of air/fuel ratios and a few other odds and ends about ICEs, of course.

I can’t say the same for Motronic, Bosch’s “modern” EFI control system. I’ve been watching a weird problem on my bike lately, and I’ve tracked it down to what looks like a bad hack job over in the Motronic design group. Not content with just supplying a modern, 2004 version of Motronic, it appears that Bosch decided to crib together the lousy parts of Motronic (signals taken from only half of the system), an interesting part of K-Jet (running the whole thing off the coil sense), and who knows what from Digifant.

The problem manifests itself as a flat 500rpm lift in the tach signal when it rains. Being Motronic, the tach signal is fed from the coil sense, but only from one of the two coils. The Rotax engine is known for some assorted issues (other than being a bullet-proof, workhorse, dinosaur of a fuel-efficient and otherwise great motor), one of which is pretty serious surging. Well…. imagine that. When your injector circuit is being driven by a feedback loop from half of the coil circuit, and voltage is building up due to phantom capacitance somewhere, yeah, the poor thing is going to surge like crazy.

So, I’ll be spending my weekend working on the bike with the only tool you need on a Motronic machine: my DVM. This is not what “working on the (insert ICE-equipped vehicle)” is supposed to mean, Mr Bosch…..