The ‘Minisink Valley tri-state region’ is affluent and attractive, far enough from the metropolis to make a daily commute onerous but close enough for a weekend retreat. The house in the woods is peaceful and relaxing and the company good. I dallied another day.
Time to address the oil leaks. The rear crankshaft seal is inaccessible without stripping everything and once more removing the gearbox, I elect to let it lie and settle for making a better job of the ‘nappy’ attached below the drain vent with duct tape. Not an elegant solution but sufficient for the miles that remain. The other escape route is addressable, I have a replacement gasket for the rocker box and a idea for improvement.
Adam has kindly dug out some fine abrasive emery paper and having meticulously cleaned away the remnants of the leaking gasket I set about improving the fit. In engineering straight lines and flat surfaces are the foundations of fit, an easy datum requiring no complex definition. Placing the emery paper on the flattest available surface, in this case a garage window pane, and gently rubbing the ‘flat’ face of the cover against it abrades away any high areas and matches it to the, theoretically flat face on the top of the cylinder head. That’s the theory, in addition the sequence of tightening the retaining bolts is intended to pull the cover into contact evenly.
In the afternoon we headed out for some light shopping, at one mall I glanced up to the hills to see an old black bear out for a stroll. Once again apologies for the portrait video, phones should taser you for this crime.
Our next stop was to pick up a cleaned buck’s skull, a trophy even longer lasting than the larder full of venison treats that we’d been enjoying. The taxidermist’s shop stuffed with evidence to the one sided conflict with wildlife that doesn’t bear arms.
A growler of beer was on the shopping list and we diligently sampled as many craft ales as prudent to ensure the correct selection, a pleasurable chore in enjoyable environs. We repaired to the woods to find wild turkeys blocking this hunter’s drive, so soon after the turkey season has ended, almost as if they knew.
Rusty, Adam’s partner, returned from the city and we enjoyed the stillness of the woods and the exquisite flavours of Adam’s cooking before retiring replete at a nearly respectable hour.
Le Mans man 