Day 26 Cruz liner

Lisa, a jewellery maker (jeweller has been been annexed by people selling watches) from Phoenix was in Carmel clearing out art from her parents place. They had, I presumed, gone to another place or were otherwise beyond caring. We enjoyed polite conversation over a pre and post breakfast cigarette. I learned that she had five children and considerably less gold than before her kids friends were around the house. Surprisingly given this offence she was anti gun and had even refused to carry on for her work in the probation service.

I left with good intentions, as always a little late from blogging heading to Santa Cruz and beyond to see what the day would bring. It brought me trouble.

Google maps was insistent that I should suffer a trip through endless featureless fields of vegetables punctuated only by old school busses painted white that bussed in the workers from goodness knows where. It wasn’t all like this, the climb out of Carmel took me past palaces with fine steeds in paddocks and a up twisting forest road where I met a stag (not Triumph) standing boldly in the middle of the blacktop. I would have stopped to steal a snap but there was a car not far behind and the moment passed.

My own steed let me down, gently, first not slowing when I closed the throttle and then running lumpy, shaking and snorting. I stopped for gas in Castroville and investigated. The left hand throttle cable had been chafing on its displaced 90 degree bend that was intended to lead it gently into the top of the carburettor and prevent this devastation. It wasn’t pretty. I stripped it out next to the port-a-loos that passed as a washroom for the partly refurbished gas station. Still intact but only clinging to functionality by a few strands, the remainder forming a rat’s nest of chaos as they snagged the cable path. Upon the advice of the pump jockeys I walked a couple of blocks and then a couple more to check out the inventory of the available auto part stores, alas to no avail. I do now have a $30 hood release cable if anyone is interested.

Desperate further inspection revealed that I could remove the broken strands from the carb slide end but their divorced partners were still hanging around interfering with the inside of the outer cable. I considered taming them with solder but the HiFi repair shop was closed. Then a miracle, no weeping statue but when physically exploring the options the cable jammed solid, pulling it back with pliers dragged a previously unseen cable sleeve into the picture. It was hooked by the strands and it moved, albeit with some resistance, in and out of the cable outer. Now all I needed was to remove a brass bezel too small for the sleeve to pass through, the friendly gas station owner came up trumps with a Dremel mini-tool and sliced through it. I had an almost working cable again, I fitted it and crudely re-balanced the carbs (they have to open in sync or the engine fights itself). There was a motorcycle parts store 7 miles in the wrong direction so I checked it out, all that they could offed was a generic cable repair kit that might do at a pinch. I checked the internet, things are further complicated by the Guzzi not having its standard twist grip or carburettor tops, MG Cycle were helpful as usual and my ‘go-to friend’ Roland at the Spare Parts Company suggested that I try a classic Ducati place, Bevel Heaven, in Concord CA. Steve, the owner was very helpful on the phone and suggested a solution excluding the 90 degree bend that caused the problem.

By this time the time window for next day delivery had closed so I threw the dice and booked a room in Santa Cruz. Riding with minimal throttle movements and manually re-balancing the carbs as I went I made the 40 or so miles. Borrowing a tape measure from the motel manager I took both cables off and measured them, 39″ shroud length. By coincidence the Ducati spares place is near to some ‘second hand’ friends of a friend from home, Tom and Patti. I emailed them to see whether I could have a package delivered to them and headed out to find a dive bar, I did, three in fact.

On the way I spotted this seal bothering a mother and her kids.