Well, Oschi… I am 52, and I am just starting to understand.
Glad you like the story.
Among a myriad of things that had happened the last few weeks that got me distracted from the project, Chico, one of our dogs, had an ugly cut on one leg so I had to take it to the veterinarian. He got anasthesia and was sutured. It took the whole morning, though, and then it was late for lunch and for working on the Merkabah.
Profiting of the the last hours of the pale winter sunlight of the same day I opted for giving a little attention to the WR450. It refused to start the last time I tried to crank the engine and also realized that the battery was not in its best condition after three months of inactivity.
Anyway, I put on the service overall I always keep at home and removed the dirty cover of the bike. This time I was prone to split the engine apart if necessary to make it run, but after a lots of kicks the engine started and remained stable at idle. Hmm…
It was pretty suspicious so I took her out for a ride around the block to perform a short test and, naturally, we ended up on the top of the hills. Ahh… impossible to resist the temptation. Yes… I know, I know.
And soon, another week had passed.
I had some time left last Friday and went to the shop to install the famous brake cylinder.
Put the cylinder on the bench and filled it with brake fluid, as done before, and did my best to install it without loosing too much fluid when connecting the piping.
Despite my efforts there was a non negligible amount of fluid that ended up on the floor of the cabin, carefuly covered with a plastic sheet, of course. I don’t like brake fluid too much.
After tightening hoses and pipes I installed the old seat on its base, once again, to bleed the brake circuit.
Eduardo helped me, though he was so confident that it was just a matter of changing the pump that he waited for me to complete the preparations for the purging of the brakes watching some nice videos on Youtube.
Soon as I had finished to adjust the length of some connecting hoses and cleaned around I topped off the reservoir with new brake fluid. Expectations were high.
Eduardo depressed the pedal a few times while I loosened and tightened the bleeder screw of the slave servo valve. I was also confident that, after all the attemps to fill the system, the whole brake circuit should have only a little amount of air and lots of clean brake fluid.
After only a few strokes there were no more bubbles coming out from the valve and Eduardo felt the pedal become stiff. It was nice to hear the clocking sound of the valve when it started to work.
I let the fluid go until I was sure there was no more air in the circuit and asked Eduardo to crank the mighty V8. Naturally, even after a couple of months without running, the engine started at the light touch of the button and a fantastic cloud of exhaust smoke surrounded us.
Pretty slowly the air pressure built up and, when the release valve spitched at 115 psi, I released the maxi brakes and engaged the transmission. The wheels, all of them as I connected all the lockers, started to spin at the same time. When they got enough momentum I pressed the pedal of the clutch and then firmly stroke the brake pedal. There was a neat shake and the wheels were firmly blocked at once. Great. Eduardo just said: I told you.
It was necessary to make some adjustments, of course, but, finally, the brakes were working. The Merkabah was autonomous. It was a brief good moment and then I had to go to work, pretty happy, though.
The next days there were a lot of issues related to work and family that prevented to work on the truck. I made a list of things to do, and I felt overwhelmed by the amount of items still to complete, not including the making of the Box itself. I shrugged and said to myself: Patience… one step at a time, as always.
At some moment I got a couple of hours and made a furtive scapade to the workshop. I cleared the frame from all the stuff that had cumulated on it the last months, secured the air tanks and removed all the stuff that was not necessary to be there. Then, I cleaned and installed the steering column and the steering wheel.
I leaned against the side of the front right wheel and realized it was flat, completely flat. There was a conflict between the inflation valve and the brake drum and the last pushed against it and made the air scape unnoticeably during the last weeks. Hmm…
The inflation valve is the giant type, and the ad hoc connectors were still not ready so I simply changed the tire and put the spare one that was pretty happy to leave its dusty corner. One of the mechanics helped with the manoeuver and it was sooo easy.
The truck was still on the jack stands so I swept as good as I could the floor under the frame and went under it myself to get the Merkabah on her feet. I reached to remove only the front ones and got a call from work. I sighed and left the truck and the shop, knowing that at last three more days would pass until I could get there again.
Strangely, I felt less anxious than expected, knowing that probably the next time I went there I would take the truck out for a short, illegal, run out of the shop.
On another front, we gathered at the site with the guys. The start of the building of the new house in the country was inminent, after many months of delays, changing of plans and whatsoever. There was a lot of things to do about and there would be much more in the near future. Wish me luck.