Trujillo (still), 11-6-12

So I woke up early this morning, chain smoked several cigarettes, packed my stuff, loaded the bike and tried to set off for Sullana. Only the bastard bike wouldn't start.

Same symptoms as Friday that I thought I'd solved by changing the spark plug.

I'd noticed a Yamaha logo outside a shop round the corner from the hostal so I while I waited for them to open, I used Google Translate to write a note explaining what I thought was wrong with my bike (flywheel woodruff key. I recognised the symptoms from my old RS125 back in 1985 or so).

The first Yamaha dealer directed me to a second who directed me to a third. Finally I was directed to a mechanic over the road and we set off on his WR250 to take a look at my bike.

I've never been towed before. Well, I haven't exactly been towed now but the mechanic rode behind me with his foot on my rear peg pushing the bike the couple of miles back to the workshop. Quite an interesting experience in Peruvian rush hour traffic. We even got a pull from the Police on the way but they let us go without asking me any questions.

At the workshop we did the usual strip down of the bike while the mechanic made sure it was sparking and there was fuel in it and then we hooked it up to a car battery to turn the engine over.

Finally, we stripped down the flywheel side of the engine and sure enough the woodruff key had sheared.

A replacement was sourced from the car engine shop (not just engine parts, whole engines) next door out of a Chevy V8 crankshaft and machined to fit. I hung around with the mototaxi drivers out front drinking beer and watching chicas walk past while he did the machining but watched (and even helped) for the rest of the job. I've learned my lesson concerning unsupervised mechanics.

The bearing face on the starter cog is still absolutely flat btw. I checked while the flywheel was off. Looks like a good job to me.

The bike started straight away, job's a good 'un and Sullana will wait until tomorrow. I had a run up to the ruins of Chan Chan to put a bit of charge in the battery and I'm now sitting around drinking beer and wondering what to have for tea.

Plaza des Armas

Marching band

Church facade

Marching bands in the Plaza des Armas

Pilsen Trujillo

Church facade

Statue

Tres Cruces

Watching the footy outside the TV rental shop

Pisco Sour

Chip omelette and Pisco Sour

Engine shop

Bike in the nip

Old and new woodruff keys

Square edge on the starter cog

Workshop

Test ride

Chan Chan city walls

Trujillo, 9-6-12

I've been making good time in Peru.  The dual carriageway has helped but I've been riding from the early morning until a couple of hours before dark in the evening.  I was aiming for Lima yesterday but was making good progress and enjoying myself I continued through the city (city traffic in Peru is mental btw) and on another 160km or so to Huacho.

Checked into the first hotel that would take the bike, out of my price range but I was seriously tired at that point, ate and got an early night.

I was up at the crack of dawn and set about setting the chain tension and oil level when a woman from a hotel room near mine got up and started shouting at me for making noise.  My "no habla Espanol" trick didn't work as she turned out to speak fluent English.  I moved the bike to the other side of the car park and finished the job.

The starter clutch is still playing up but so far I've always managed to get the bike started.  Another long run up to Trujillo.  Met a couple of English lads cycling from Ushuaia but no real events apart from city traffic until I started to look for somewhere to stay.

First place I tried wouldn't let me bring the bike in.  OK, no problema, move onto the next.  Except I couldn't get the bike going.  It would fire, a bit but not start.  I thought I'd probably flooded it so I pushed the bike 20m down the road to a bar where I could have a drink and keep an eye on the fully loaded bike.

After leaving it alone for a few minutes, I did get the bike started but something was horribly wrong.  It wouldn't tick over and sounded very sick.  I set off to find another hostel round the corner and the bike was definitely ill, I had to rev the bollocks off it to gather any power at all and having to hold it at around 3K RPM just to keep the engine going.  Also it was getting very hot.

I had just been thinking that apart from the starter clutch, the bike was running very well.

Fortunately the next hostal had somewhere to put the bike so I pushed it into the courtyard and unloaded my stuff.

Finding a mechanic on a Saturday evening or a Sunday isn't going to happen in Peru so trying to think logically, I removed the air filter to see if it was clogged.  Yeah, there's a bit of muck in there and it could use a wash but running without didn't make a great deal of difference.

Next I removed the spark plug to find the shittiest plug I have ever seen in my life.  A new one did the job and the bike is back to it's former self..

I'm a bit embarrassed about having left the plug for so long but I'm also quite pleased with myself for successfully diagnosing and fixing a problem.

Next step is to fit a kickstart kit, umming and ahing about fitting it myself.

Anyway, might hang round here another day and get some laundry done.  I smell.

Bacon. Huacachina 8-6-12

Finally found somewhere selling bacon (tocino).  First bacon butty since Blighty, if only they had brown sauce.  Bike fixed, fitted a new chain, off to Lima as soon as the lockup opens.

The saga of the starter clutch. Huacachina 6-6-12

So then, getting the bike out of the hotel in Nazca I noticed the bike wasn't starting as easily as before. I thought the battery was flat and didn't really pay too much attention to it. A good day's riding with Delbert but I was starting to get a lot of grinding noises when starting the bike and by the time we got to Huacachina the bike wouldn't start, the starter would turn but it just didn't engage the engine.

A bit of faffing about sorting out a hostal and finding a place to put the bike and ended up on the phone to a mechanic who was round round ten minutes later with his teenage, female and cute apprentice on pillion and proceeded to dismantle the bike.

Between us (Juan the mechanic, Delbert and myself, not forgetting the cute young apprentice who is probably a far more competant mechanic than either Delbert or myself) we worked out that the enigmatic and permanently unavailable “Gear 3” had become worn to the point of being useless. Juan claimed that this wouldn't be a problem and set off to a machine shop to fit a stainless steel sleeve over the existing bearing face. He claimed the bodge wouldn't last forever but would certainly keep me going for a while.

Come the morning, Juan turned up with the newly machined part and his cute young assistant in a strappy top and we sat around trying to fit it.

It all started well but we made little progress. The first thing we noticed that was wrong was that “Gear 3” had been fitted without bearings. That fecker in Arica had sent me on my way knowing there were no bearings fitted to my starter clutch.

Juan took a trip out on the bike and in due course some bearings were acquired. We put everything back together and no matter what we tried, the flywheel would be too tight against “Gear 3” to give any slack.

We tried all day. Juan and his little helper were back and forwards to the machine shop to shave another 0.1mm from the “Gear 3” surface, we tried wrapping aluminium around the crank to push the flywheel out a few tenths of millimetres and still there was too much friction between the flywheel and “Gear 3”.

Many hours and many trips out later I took a look at the pictures I'd taken when the starter clutch first failed, there were quite a few differences between the pictures and what I had on the bike. Turns out that fecker in Arica had fitted the sprag bearing the wrong way round, worse than that; he'd left the bearings out just so he could get the thing to work knowing full well I'd be too far up the road to give him any comeback.

We turned the sprag bearing round, put the bike back together and it started first time. If you're looking for a mechanic in Arica, I can tell you one to avoid.

Changing chain (and maybe sprockets) tomorrow, back on the road the day after. I shall be ordering a kickstart kit from a certain Mr Lambeth before I hit the road.

Pictures mostly courtesy of Delbert
.

Nazca Lines

I didn't take a flight due to the price but took a trip out this morning to the viewing tower.  Pictures below.  While climbing the tower, I realsised that this is the only touristy thing I have done this trip.

Goodbye Arica. Nazca, 2-6-12

Finally back on the road, six weeks in Arica waiting for a starter clutch and it's still giving the occasional grating sound.

I'm glad to see the back of Arica, not that there's anything wrong with the place but six weeks is a long time and there isn't really a lot to do there. The only bar near where I was staying was in the bus station, you can imagine what that was like and the only local places to eat did varieties of chicken and chips. Basically, I spent the time on an off license bender, letting everything slide and checking a Royal Mail tracking number every minute or two. Fat lot of use that was, it told me when the package had left the UK and nothing more.

There was also a marching band that practised in the school next door to the hostel in which I stayed. I had no feelings either way about marching bands before Arica but I hate them with a passion now.

After finally getting the bike back, it was difficult to leave. I'm not used to riding any more. Or blogging. First day, I took it nice an easy. About 200km up to Moquegua, met an Argentinian lad on a Honda Sahara. We found a cheap hostal, had dinner in the market (only to find out later that Lonely Planet describes it as extremely dangerous after dark. I didn't feel at all threatened anywhere) and tried in vain to find a cold beer. Only one shop had beer and they didn't have any in the fridge.

Somewhere around 330km the next day up to Camara. Stayed in a small beach resort hotel for a very reasonable price just before town, I was the only guest but they were happy to open the restaurant for me. By “open”, of course I mean they were happy to cook for me.

An early start and then 430km to Nazca. The first 100km took me about 4 hours. There were roadworks all over that part of the panam, Eventually, I came across a long line of stationary trucks. Being on a bike, I nipped round the side up to the front to see what was going on. As I understand it, they'd closed off the road to resurface an entire section. Some of the truck drivers had been waiting for some time and were getting quite agitated. Eventually, a couple of the trucks blocked off the other side of the road to prevent the dump trucks carrying hardcore to the roadworks from getting through and things got quite heated. The police arrived and there was much shouting but eventually they opened the road and let us through. I was first of course, being on a bike.

Fantastic bit of road, when it's open. Ocean waves and a steep drop on one side, desert and dunes on the other. Every now and then some twisty bits dropping into a green valley.

430km took me around 9 hours. I'm knackered. Need to eat, drink and sleep. More blogging in the very near future with a bit of luck.

Bugger. Starter clutch.

This is not a blog post.  This is a collection of pictures of broken parts.