My old–and, now that I look at it, fairly brief–website about the restoration of my BSA has been updated, though all that has been changed is the layout. Still, it’s an improvement as the old one was difficult to navigate and used an annoying frameset.

After a few years of being stored in damp sheds due to our moving around, I’m afraid my BSA will probably never be this nice again, unless I re-restore it. This photo was taken shortly after I finished the restoration.

The Vintage Motorcycle Enthusiasts had their almost annual Whidbey Island ride today, and I took the BSA. It was very enjoyable, with beautiful weather and a great selection of people and bikes. The BSA performed well but I am increasingly frustrated over how hard this bike is to start when it’s hot. It makes it not much fun at all to ride, knowing that if you stop for a break or lunch there is a chance you’ll be kicking forever trying to get it going again. I’m going to try and tackle the carb first, and see if that helps. The mag was expensively and professionally rebuilt, but hard starting hot is notoriously a symptom of a bad magneto.

This is what a carport should look like. Reggie, Fireball, and Fergie. Old Yeller sits outside, knowing that come winter he will take the place of the two fair-weather machines. Or something like that, anyway. Bike is running OK, though the blasted carb is really a piece of junk. Time to try a different one, me thinks.

I brought the BSA out of slumber to get ready for annual Vashon Island shin-dig, hosted by the local Vintage Motorcycle club. (Note: The photo is from a show the bike was in a few years ago, now!)

It started right up, considering the inactivity it has had–it still only has 650 miles since it was restored. Smoked like hell for a bit, wet sumping to blame, I think. I have a list of things to do, starting with having my friend Robin take a look at the carb to my replacing the kill switch and the absolutely dreaded task of pulling apart the front end to fix the forks, which leak like there is no tomorrow.

This is my one completed ground-up restoration, of which I’m both proud and a bit embarrassed–perhaps like you’d feel if a loved one made a nude painting of you.

It turned out beautifully, but a lot of my work needs some retrofitting. For example, I’m not riding it much at the moment because the front forks leak like a sieve. I need to pull the front end apart and put plumber’s tape on all the threaded bits of the hydraulic tubes…didn’t know when I assembled it and I’m dreading the job.

Of course, the other reason I’m not riding it is that the repro carb on it is terrible. Caught the bike on fire, no less, once.