festerandolini
XS650 Member
I have a 1980 xs650 special. This wonderful machine came to my attention a few years ago (probably 2013-2015) as it entered the stable of a local casting/sculpture legend. He was looking for some mid-life rejuvenation in the form of re-living his youth smashing through the south island twisties of of the Nouveau Hebridean sister to our nation- that land of the long white cloud 
Aotearoa- or it's English name New Zealand. We often have too long a conversation about motorcycle, machine, metal and more. I am always holding him up from doing more important and probably paid work. So one day after asking him about a falcon he had sitting idle (a 1978 XC 4 door- brown of course, with an auto and the 250 cross flow), he mentioned he would consider selling his XS. He had talen it apart with illusions of spare time, and it awaited his expenditure of time and capital, hidden away in the back shed.
The XS650 Spec. waited for a human soul for a number of years, spread out over pallet and tub, shelf and floor. It was to be betrothed to a son or daughter, but as they are all overseas travelling, working full time on their music career, or studying to be professional something... The XS continuing to sit idle. An offer was made to one of the offspring, but as finances and adventures on the European continent (more probably, just Germany- and specifically the art district in Berlin) held up the interests, time and valuable currency of said motorcycle enthusiast, the youngling passed on the offer for the bike to be traded and money was sent to Germany.
I had to screw things around financial wise. The Chequer Ex-Checker in Chief, none the wiser to my Machiavellian plot, of obtaining yet more rust and junk for the crusty Dragons Hoard.
Cash ported in pocket, off i sped- trailer hitched and ropes stowed. Ready to pick up the long awaited project of many delusional imaginings. Less of the bike appeared to be picked up than i remembered made up a complete motorcycle, from my instincts and from my colander like sconce. Yet, i know that most of what i saw needed a thorough careening, etching, scrubbing and decontamination. Vermin having used the ancient steed in it's dishevelment as some kind of super-gantry to nest and nutrition.
Once my spinal disks had herniated some more, and the Special was loaded up into the trailer and tied off, i departed in a most excited manner. Not quite believing my score, given the recent quote by Geoff's XS for a project machine. I carefully drove to the secret hideaway (my workshop- which is a rented space, suburbs away from the dwelling, where dark arts and secret rituals of alchemy and intoxication are performed) to discharge the freight in a manner that may or may not completely be hobbling. A sack trolley was found and the task of washing the muck off commenced with truck wash and a few scrubbing brushes, rags and a hose.
As fast as i could all of the nest, waste and excetretia of critters was removed revealing a layer of chain lube, engine oil and neglect. More cleaning liberated most of the build up from the last of the 20th century, revealing factory frame coating, patina, use and abuse. Everything, on the frame or near it, the ground and the atmosphere was generously applied the magic forcefield of WD-40. What was unnecessary was wiped off with the remainder of the dry rags and then squared away int the hall of failu... Er, i mean shed.
It has taken months of looking, cleaning, sorting and dry assembling to figure what is needed to get it back on the road again, and as it turns out 'complete' may mean 89%.
Aotearoa- or it's English name New Zealand. We often have too long a conversation about motorcycle, machine, metal and more. I am always holding him up from doing more important and probably paid work. So one day after asking him about a falcon he had sitting idle (a 1978 XC 4 door- brown of course, with an auto and the 250 cross flow), he mentioned he would consider selling his XS. He had talen it apart with illusions of spare time, and it awaited his expenditure of time and capital, hidden away in the back shed.The XS650 Spec. waited for a human soul for a number of years, spread out over pallet and tub, shelf and floor. It was to be betrothed to a son or daughter, but as they are all overseas travelling, working full time on their music career, or studying to be professional something... The XS continuing to sit idle. An offer was made to one of the offspring, but as finances and adventures on the European continent (more probably, just Germany- and specifically the art district in Berlin) held up the interests, time and valuable currency of said motorcycle enthusiast, the youngling passed on the offer for the bike to be traded and money was sent to Germany.
I had to screw things around financial wise. The Chequer Ex-Checker in Chief, none the wiser to my Machiavellian plot, of obtaining yet more rust and junk for the crusty Dragons Hoard.
Cash ported in pocket, off i sped- trailer hitched and ropes stowed. Ready to pick up the long awaited project of many delusional imaginings. Less of the bike appeared to be picked up than i remembered made up a complete motorcycle, from my instincts and from my colander like sconce. Yet, i know that most of what i saw needed a thorough careening, etching, scrubbing and decontamination. Vermin having used the ancient steed in it's dishevelment as some kind of super-gantry to nest and nutrition.
Once my spinal disks had herniated some more, and the Special was loaded up into the trailer and tied off, i departed in a most excited manner. Not quite believing my score, given the recent quote by Geoff's XS for a project machine. I carefully drove to the secret hideaway (my workshop- which is a rented space, suburbs away from the dwelling, where dark arts and secret rituals of alchemy and intoxication are performed) to discharge the freight in a manner that may or may not completely be hobbling. A sack trolley was found and the task of washing the muck off commenced with truck wash and a few scrubbing brushes, rags and a hose.
As fast as i could all of the nest, waste and excetretia of critters was removed revealing a layer of chain lube, engine oil and neglect. More cleaning liberated most of the build up from the last of the 20th century, revealing factory frame coating, patina, use and abuse. Everything, on the frame or near it, the ground and the atmosphere was generously applied the magic forcefield of WD-40. What was unnecessary was wiped off with the remainder of the dry rags and then squared away int the hall of failu... Er, i mean shed.
It has taken months of looking, cleaning, sorting and dry assembling to figure what is needed to get it back on the road again, and as it turns out 'complete' may mean 89%.
