Greg Field

The mechanical oil-pressure gauge I installed a year or so ago on my Ballabio in an effort to try to figure out if the oil pressure on the V11 was truly dropping when the oil light began to flicker under hard acceleration rattled itself to death a month ago. Most of the fault was mine. The bracket I made for it allowed it to jiggle too much with the vibration of the engine. I missed having oil-pressure readings to reassure me, so I decided to replace that gauge and add a voltmeter, too. This round, I went with an electric pressure gauge and a matching voltmeter. I the VDO gauges and mounting cups egauges.com. For mounting them, I made a pair of simple but sturdy brackets out of aluminum strap that attach to the top and turn-signal mounting points for the headlight holders of the V11 Sport This shows the oil gauge mounted up. Here's the sender unit. It has 12x1.5 thread, so an adapter was not necessary. It also has a contact that operates the oil-pressure light on the dash. Here's a pic with both in place. They're aligned better than the distorted photo suggests and are easy to read, even at night. I also got an oil-temp gauge but won't put it on until the next round, when I put on a LeMans fairing painted in Coppa Italia colors. I'm waiting for winter to tackle that. I found a sensor for the temp gauge that fits perfectly the hole in the sump just to the right of the drain plug, so the installation won't require drilling any holes in the sump.

Not so odd. Not all that's in Guzziology began there . . .

A quartet of us'll be passing through this weekend from Seattle and back again from Hyder, AK. I'd appreciate any suggestions on routes worth doing, speed traps, construction, and so on. Thanks!

Sixteen pages! Nice work, fellas!

As an officer of the club, I am prohibited from publicizing the date. That said, I will be making my next visit to the island on 9 September of this year . . .

Three years ago, I bought a 1910 duplex and started fixing it up. The garage was just as old but in even worse shape because dirt was graded down from alley level against the sill plates, which had rotted out. As a result, it listed hard to port and had been listing for some time because the automatic garage door was put in during the time it was already heeled over. Plus, it was covered in horrible beige vinyl sideing over some really good (but neglected) tongue-and-groove cedar siding. The first step was to put in retaining walls to allow me to get the soil away from the sills. I did that this spring in my spare time. In late June, I started the rest of the gay-raj makeover. FIrst, I stripped off the siding. Then, some friends helped me jack it up straight, using rams we made from 4x4s and bottle jacks. This photo shows the list. Once it was up straight, I sunk a million screws through the siding and into the studs to reinforce it and insualted the walls and sheath them inside with plywood for extra stiffness. Then, I caulked the million nail holes left after siding removal, re-framed the big door so it was square with the newly upright garage, primed it, and painted it. Jennifer got to choose the base color, which was her favorite: purple. I insisted on selecting the door colors, and did something I have always wanted to do: a tricolore door. The rest of the colors I chose to meld the purple with the tricolore. Here's a less-than-stellar pic of the results. Yes, it's a little swishy and gaudy, but so is my Coppa Italia liveried Ballabio. I does not bore me, however, and fits perfectly in this neighborhood, which is full of both Guzzis and colorful folks.

We had a good crowd this month, both at my house for coffee beforehand and at the Krain Corner in Enumclaw for the Guzzi club breakfast. The guy in the background is my neighbor, Mark, checking things out. Here's about half the bikes that were there. Here's some more. And then even more came just before we took off. Among them were my neighbors Pete and Esther from down the street, who rode up on their Stone and Nevada. My neighborhood in Seattle, called Georgetown, is becoming a hotbed of Guzzi activity. Within one block from my house, there are four Guzzi owners and a total of 9 Guzzis (5 of them mine). The other owner lives around the block. I see his EV all the time but have yet to meet him. All told, I think 12 bikes took off from my house headed for breakfast. We left around 8:00 and rode the usual route. The turnout at the Krain was even larger than normal, with maybe 40 bikes in the lot. Here's a picture of a few of them. That's Steakdaddy's nice Aluminium at the head of the line. Afterward, a bunch of us decided to take a ride. My brother (from Cali) is in town, and he wanted to ride out around Mt. Rainier. Pedro picked a nice route during breakfast, and eight of us decided to go. From Enumclaw, we headed out on SR 410 towards Chinook Pass. From thee, we planned to take SR 123 over another pass down to US 12 and then through the Rimrock country before heading home. While gassing up in Enumclaw, a person at the station told us SR 123 was closed due to a slide. We decided to head that way anyway and see if we could get around the slide on motorcycles. Between Enumclaw and the pass, SR 410 is medium twisty but filled with cars, so we took it really easy. We stopped at the pass for a bathroom break. While there we met a very friendly (really) county sheriff in a silver pickup that was stealthily marked "Sheriff" on the side but offered no other clues that it was a police vehicle. He told us that SR 123 was completely washed away and that there was no way even a dirt bike would get through. We decided to keep going on SR 410 to its junction with US 12 and then head west to the Rimrock. I mentally filed it away that when he pulled out, that's the direction he headed, too. After the pass, 410 gets less trafficky and twistier as it swoops down a river valley and out of the wet side of the state into the dry side. While bombing through this, I spotted the sheriff's pickup driving slowly about a mile ahead. I eased up on him gently and followed for a ways behind him precisely at the 50mph speed limit. That was no fun at all on such a road. After a few minutes of that, I thought, "He seemed like a reasonable guy. If I pass him repectfully and pull away at just a few mph over the speed limit 'til I'm out of sight, I bet he'll let me get away with it." So, at a place where it was legal and safe, I did just that. He didn't stop me, so the rest of the group did the same. Within a few minutes, he was out of sight behind us, and we wicked it up and had some fun. We stopped at Whistlin' Jack's for gas. That big guy standing there is my neighbor from across the street, named Mark. He just bought a super-cherry 1981 or '82 Suzuki GS 1100 and came along for the day. He's about 6'10" and is built like a linebacker. He makes that big GS look like a toy when he sits on it. Another shot from Whistlin' Jack's. That's Steakdaddy on the left, and my brother Scot next to left. In the foreground is my friend Jimmy's Spot 1100. He's a mad scientist tinkerer type, and it would take hours to point out all the subtle little customizing he's done to that bike. After that the road straightened out a bit and the lush forests gave way to the dramatic, sere terrain of Washington's dry east side. Here's a shot taken as we waited at the turnoff to US 12 for all the stragglers to catch up. That's my brother on his KLR 650 (he also has a hot-rod Sportster and an R90S BMW). He had ridden that KLR to Wisconsin before riding it out to Seattle for a visit. The Cascade mountains that we had just crossed scrape the clouds clean of precipitation, leaving eastern Washington virtually a desert for much of the year. From here, we turned west on US 12, which at that point is a two-lane road that bombs along the Tieton River. The terrain is pretty open, allowing great sightlines around the curves. Eventually, 12 carries us higher and higher, back into the trees and lushness of the Rimrock area. It's a great road, and I was having a ball. It's beautiful, too. We stopped at this overlook, which offered a great view of Mt. Rainier. Here's Mark on his GS1100. Did I mention that he makes it look small? And here's mad scientist Jimmy. He was feeling colorful that day. Here's some of the rest of our crew. And there's my ride that day: Billy Bob, my V11 I bought as a totaled wreck and resurrected. I have always loved the way it looked but was going to trade it on a Griso because I did not like the way the rear end felt "squirmy" all the time. Now I love it. What changed? I changed from a Pilot Power rear tire to a Metzeler. It feels like a whole new motorcycle now. The next stop was for gas in Packwood. We pulled out of Packwood onto one of my favorite roads: Skate Creek Road. This one's super-tight and the trees grow right onto the shoulder. There are no sightlines whatsoever, and the road surface is beat to hell. To ride it fast, you have to be mentally frosty and hyper alert. I love the challenge of it. This is where Mario dances. Sadly, it's only 22 miles long. It's our practice on these rides that everyone rides their own pace, and whoever is out front stops at every turn until all have caught up. Here's Billy Bob going tink, tink, tink as it cools while we wait for the next rider to show up. About 5 minutes later, Mark showed up. He rides that Suzuki pretty well. And he makes it look small. Then most of the rest of the herd arrived. While we waited for the last stragglers, I took a pic of this funny sticker on Pedro's Quota: After that, we headed west on 706 and north on Oville Rd. E and on home for a beer at the 9lb. Hammer, a nice little bar about 3 blocks from home. It was a great day. I got to ride 250 miles of twisties with my brother, let him meet some great friends, introduce some newbies to the great local Guzzi crew, and see some beautiful country. Who lives better'n me?

Mine's configured like the Doc's, except I stuck with a paper filter in a heavily modified airbox (because I ride dirt roads and do not trust gauze filters to strain out much more than butterflies and June bugs). And mine's Ballabio, so it doesn't need any risers.

Pete: The spring finally rotated on its own to where I can read it. It's last digits are 110, so I think that mens an 11.0 spring. It's really handling well, now that I got rid of the Pliot Power rear. Use a rear tire with a stiff carcass, such as a Metzeler of Dunlop. Switching to a Metzeler made an astonishing difference on my bike.

If the Z6s and Pirellis are the same, why would anyone buy the Z6s? After all, the Pirellis are quite a bit cheaper. Do the Pirellis have the same steel belting as the Metzelers? 7

That fairing is meant to be mounted to a bike with V11 Sport-type instrument holder and headlight mounts. It mounts at a slightly different angle than the Ballabio fairing and the mounting holes are in slightly different locations. Drilling will likely be required. Also, the leading edge of the fairing will not likely be parallel with the chrome ring on the headlight. You should consider getting V11 Sport headlight mounts and instrument holder and mounting it all to swing with the bars. I like that look better, and I also got less helmet buffeting.

My experience with Jeeps tracks with Mr. Forrests's: Urethane used in bushings is significantly stiffer than rubber and actually makes ride feel harsher because of this extra stiffness. Perhaps there is a softer urethane? If so, it might be a good material for the cush rubbers. Certainly, no harm in looking at other materials.

Only in extreem circumstances. Bad wheel bearings or continual cycles of rusting and scraping off of rust are what most often takes out the wheel splines.

Yes. Battery Street. It's completely drama-free on this Metzeler. ZK: THere's a huge difference in how the skinnier tires handle on teel bridge grating. The Me 33s are the worst, in my experience. Me 880s are the best.

I won't dispute that. That said, though, my bike came with Pilot Powers. I've put two new rears on it. Its rear end felt wiggly when I got it and has until I put on the Metzeler. I thought the wiggliness was just a character trait of the V11 or of fat-tired bikes in general (this was my first V11 and first bike with modern doughnut tires, so I had no basis for comparison). I'm left to conclude now that the wiggliness is a characteristic of the Pilot Power. A conversation with a really good RSV pilot yesterday who uses PPs and has ridden the route I ride everyday confirmed that. He said, "Yeah, my bike squirms all through that tunnel. I've just learned to ignore it."

Put in a quality 20/50 such as Redline. At Moto Intl. we have those switches for $9.00. It does pay to shop around.

I've had that M1 on for a few days, now, and like it very much for commuting. Here's why: My commute includes quite a bit of pavement that was "re-surfaced" by gringing it down to the level of the potholes using a big machine that leaves squiggly grooves all along the pavement. THe Pilot Power rear used to track along each of those squigles and make the rear of the bike feel wiggle independantly from the front. The M1s ignore those squiggles, so the rear end feels planted. I haven't tried the M1 at extreme lean angles yet, but I love it so far

There's no extra drivetrain lash after the modification. It feels like less lash adn far smother in operation. WHat'll it be like in a year? We'll see. The ones in my ELdo have been thusly modified for many years and haven't broken down at all.

For all but the Scuras and others with the single-plate clutch, the major hammering takes place on the splines of the i.d. of the flywheel and the o.d. of the clutch hub.

Impressing the neighbors is always more important than extending the life of parts.

Dave: Yes, rubber does harden over time. That said, I think these wedges start life hard and just stay that way. I've got bags of new ones on the shelf here, and they are as hard as the ones I removed from the wheel of a 1974 850-T a few months ago.

Engine braking is notoriuously hard on all the splines of a Guzzi. In my day job selling Guzzi parts and my morning job fixing Guzzis, I see so many hammered splines that I normally recommend that Guzzi riders avoid engine braking altogether. This is especially true for all the early (and some late) Guzzis that lacked a cush drive in the rear wheel. Even on those with a cush drive, I recommend against engine braking unless you are sure the cush drive is actually functional. I've seen a ton of them that are so rusty that they do nothing at all to absorb shock. A few weekends ago while swooping through the delirious roads around Mt. St. Helens I found myself compression braking out of necessity because the roads were so beaten up and frost-heavey and washed out, with patches of gravel in the washouts. After 50 or so miles, I just gave up trying to avoid compression braking and learned to enjoy it again and decided that I would allow myself its pleasures, but only on the Ballabio. And I decided that if I was going to compression brake, I'd seek to limit the damage by better making sure Billy Bob's cush drive was as good as it could be. The V11 Sport's cush drive is almost identical to the cush drives on the other Guzzis. It works OK when it is properly lubed but quickly siezes up from rust if neglected. And its action can be vastly improved with a little modification of its parts. The cush drive consists of a main dive-spline plate with six vanes on its backside, 12 rubber wedges to absorb the shock, and a retaining ring fastened to the wheel by six buttonhead screws. The first step was to take it apart. I used my usual technique for buttonheads (which stip easily): 1) heat on the head of the screw for one minute with a MAPP gas torch; 2) insert the appropriate sized allen socket into the screw and give it a wallop with a hammer to shock it loose; and 3) turn out the screw with a ratchet wrench. Two of the screws were loose already. Two others cam right out. The final two took 45 minutes of heating and pounding and cursing. I finally had to drive them out by chiseling a shoulder into the buttonhead and driving them around with a punch. Both fought every turn of the way. It wasn't loctite; it was corrosion between the threads. This on a 2004-model bike that has been in service just 26 months. The photo above is actually after re-assembly but shows the brutalized buttonheads. The photo above shows the vanes on the back of the cush-drive plate. Each vane rests between two rubber wedges in the wheel hub, providing cush under the go and slow regimes. As on most Guzzi cush drives I've ever disassembled, this one was all rusty and on the verge of siezing up. In the i.d. of the center hole is a spiral groove that's supposed to hold grease to keep it all lubed. Instead, it was packed with rust and was fretting away at the mating flange on the wheel. Again, after just over 2 years in service. The picture shows it after I'd cleaned off the rust. Also, the rubber pucks themselves had all the give of chome-moly steel. There is a way to soften them up, though, so they do a better job absorbing shocks: Drill holes in them, as shown in the photo below. You can drill them with normal twist bits, but the better way to do it is with an improvised hollow drill, which cuts a core sample from the puck. I improvised one by using the hollow punches that came with an el cheapo gasket-punch set I got from Harbor Freight years ago. These cut a neat hole and have a slot in the side, which makes them sef-cleaning, as shown below. I like to make my drives even cushier by leaving out half the puck pairs. Some might be concerned that this puts too much strain on the three vanes that slip between the three remaining pairs of pucks. Certainly, it does put extra strain on them, but I think they are tough enough to handle it, and I haven't seen nor heard of any any failures in cush drives so modified. What it does give you is a cush drive that works so well the bike feels smoother. And it causes more of the shock loads to be taken by the rubber of the pucks, rather than the steel of your splines. So, then you just grease everything well. I use Redline synth grease on the steel parts, and dielectric silicone grease on the rubber. Then, put antisize liberally on all the retainer buttonhead screws so they do not sieze again, fit each screw with a new schnorr washer, fasten it all together, install it on the bike, and go for a ride. There's a change you can really feel. Rubbery and smooth. And you'll sleep better knowing your bike's splines are protected well.

There is an updated cable that appears to last. Mine's currently lasted over 6,000 miles. I can look up the part number when I get to the shop tomorrow.

All the Buell turn signals I've seen look the same as the Guzzi ones but mount via an integral hollow stud through which the wiring is routed. The Guzzi and Aprilia versions lack this stud and are affixed to the bike via a screw inserted through the weak plastic tab at the aft end of the stalk's mouning pad. As a result, the Aprilia signals are a direct bolt-on to a Guzzi. Buell signals often require that the bike's signal mounts be drilled for passage of the mounting stud.

The thread is striaght; the tap tapers, unless it's a bottoming tap.