Tonight has been the first night for testing a customer's bike on the Dyno. The guinea pig was a 1970 Honda CL175, owned by a guy named Ian, hereby referred to as Ian #2. ("Two Ians don't make an Isaac," an anonymous person said.)
The guys got the Dyno set up while Ben from Hellbillie pinstriped the KO 360, Isaac worked on the bike he's going to race this weekend, and Ty took apart and put back together a petcock, which is the thing that turns fuel on and off. (I didn't name it.)
As I write this, they're taking the guinea pig through its third run. Damn, it's loud, even from the office.
The first run on the guinea pig resulted in Ian #1, Ian #2, Jesse the Bystander, and me clustered around the monitor, reviewing the graphs. Ian #1 declared it a good baseline.
Things went awry with the second run. I noticed something sparking as Ian kicked it into high RPMs, but who was I to say it wasn't supposed to do that? Anyway, nobody could have heard me had I spoken up, is my excuse.
Isaac wandered by, noticed the sparks, and signaled Ian to cut it.
So the sparks were bad.
For the next hour, the bike has been dismantled and remantled to fix the problem. Gas got all over everything when they removed the fuel tank.
"That's gonna make for a really good fire the next time there are sparks," I commented evilly.
When they got it going again just now, Isaac said, "It sounds better than last time."
Well, that's good.
As I hung out on the work table, I noticed that one or two of the guys had beers. Where'd they get them? I searched both refrigerators, to no avail. To my delight, when I returned to my perch, I heard the lovely crack/fizz sound of a beer can opening. The beer belonged to Ben, who kindly gave me his second-to-last one--and then, as he was leaving, his last one! I can never praise Hellbillie's work enough.
