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Walked into the shed one morning and spotted what looked like an oil leak at the front of the EV’s sump. No oil drip on the floor though. I cleaned it up with degreaser and kept using the bike and, sure enough, it kept sweating out – not enough to leave a drip.

I was concerned that it might be leaking out of the timing cover – a bigger job to fix. I consulted one of the bods in the MGCoV and we came to the joint conclusion that, with luck, it was the sump gasket.

Ran the big girl up on the ramp and and dropped the oil – she was due for her 55,000km oil change fortuitously – and removed the sump.

The gasket, which I’d reused from previous oil filter changes, was of a thin, plastic-type material. The new one, from Mario at Thunderbikes in Perth, was thicker and more fibrous.

Note the hose clamp around the new oil filter, which is nosed up against the pressure valve to ensure that the filter can’t loosen and spin off. That’s the theory anyway, and I’ve always done it.

I ran a thin smear of grease around the sump and the top of the gasket – it allows the sump to move around slightly as I insert the sump screws, and to seal the sump when tightened up. Filled her up with Penrite 15W50 Diesel.

I also changed the gearbox and rear drive oils as well, since the Cali hasn’t had a lot of use over the past two years due to Covid restrictions. (My Ford manual sez that less than 10,000kms per year is consider hard use for the engine oil.)

So she’s back on the road and time will tell if the problem is resolved – or if it is (gulp) the timing chest gasket.

A lovely spring morning for a run down to Whitfield. I had search to do in the cemetery for findagrave.com, just the excuse to to kick the Cali EV into action. It’s about a 90 minute cruise down there, along the King Valley, past all the vineyards. Everywhere was green from the recent good rain. Edi Cutting, where we hold the Spaghetti Rally, was full of campers and caravans due to the school holidays. The King River was running strongly.

I parked at the cemetery and strode along the rows of headstones but couldn’t find my man. There were a lot of unmarked graves and no cemetery key to locate gravesites.

The cemetery dates from the goldrushes in the mid-1800s and as goldfields cemeteries go, this one was grassed and attractive.

Headed back home, intending to stop at INeeta Cafe in Moyhu, which makes excellent coffee and cakes. Alas it was closed. The state government had declared the day before the AFL Grand Final a public holiday but few small businesses can afford the staff penalty rates so many of them don’t open – Catch 22!

Home for afternoon tea. Go Demons!

I had a request to photograph a headstone at Yabba Cemetery. Well, firstly I had to find it because I’d never heard of the place. The cemetery is located on the eastern bank of the Mitta Mitta River, just south of Tallangatta in north-eastern Victoria. It’s a locality, not a town.

Firing up the Breva 1100, I went up across Tunnel Gap Road, onto the Kiewa Highway to Tangambalanga. The Hume Dam was full and backing up into the feeder creeks and rivers.

The Mitta Mitta River flats were green and lush, but the north-facing slopes were already losing their colour as the grass was curing. An hour-and-a-half found me at the gate to the lane crossing pasture to the cemetery.

The day was warming up by now and there was a lot of heat and humidity coming off the pasture. A short walk took me to the cemetery. Someone was looking after the site because it had been recently mowed. A picturesque place to be buried, I thought, overlooking the river, flats and adjacent hills.

After a couple of slices of Jane’s date and walnut cake and a drink of water, I hit the frog and toad. Came back via the “cow pat highway” (Gundowering Road) and over the Tawonga Gap into Bright. Was held up by numerous road works, especially at Coral Bank.

Five hours from whoa to go.

The Breva is now up to 80,000km so I decided that it was time for a service. And since we are in partial lockdown due to Covid, I had plenty of time. The alternator belt was last replaced seven years ago, so now was the time to learn how to do it. I read everything I could on the Guzzi forums and ordered the belt from Mario at Thunderbikes in Perth.

First job, remove the fuel tank.

Then I put her on the bench and jacked her up so I didn’t have to scramble around on the floor.

Moved the oil cooler out of the way, and removed the alternator cover. A bit cramped getting the top screws out, but took my time.

Before I moved anything, I tested the belt tension with my fingers so I had an idea of where I was heading. I moved the coil out of the way to access the lock nut and screw. This tightens up against the alternator to tension the belt. There’re two bolts holding the alternator in position. One undid easily but the other refused to loosen. The nut at the rear was turning with the bolt. Eventually I inserted a spanner from above the left-hand cylinder onto the nut – there was just enough room and I had to get a workshop light to see what I was doing. This held the nut, and the bolt let go with a loud “crack”. (I would have liked to put some grease or CRC 5.56 on the bolt but access wasn’t possible.)

The alternator didn’t move enough to simply lift the belt off. I rotated the lower pulley crank shaft nut and wedged a screwdriver between the belt and the pulley, and she slipped right off. The belt was in good condition – I have seen photos of them being quite worn and shredding. For info, it was a Gates 4PK725, available everywhere. I replaced it with a Moto Guzzi belt, so we’ll see how it goes. The Gates was slightly smaller in diameter than the Guzzi belt and seemed more substantial.

The new belt slipped on with a turn of the crank shaft nut. Tightened up the belt by turning the tensioner screw and lock nut. I assessed the belt tension as I went – should be able to turn the belt 90 degrees the gurus reckon, and that’s how the original belt was when I tested it. Then tightened up the two alternator bolts, replaced the coil, belt cover and oil cooler – job done.

It took me two hours and I wasn’t hurrying.

It’s handy to have a variety of tools. I was continually changing from Allen keys to inhex ratchets, and so on. This el cheapo Kinchrome ratchet which I found in a “Sale” box was worth its weight in gold. Removal of the cover screw (up at 2 o’clock) would have been tedious without it.

My new 1976 Moto Guzzi 850 T3.

Currently going through the process of putting it on Club plates (cheaper rego for bikes over 25 years old).

The totalitarian Stalinist Victorian government lifted some of the Covid restrictions so it was time to go for a longer run, without the fear that the Stasi would intercept me.

I’m a member of findagrave.com where people put in requests for photos of their relatives’ graves.  I help out for north-east Victoria, an old gold rush area.  I had a request for a photo at the Granya Cemetery, up on the Murray River, the state border with New South Wales.

 

An hour’s run on the Breva 1100 took me up to the Bethanga Bridge, which crosses Lake Hume near the dam wall.  This leads onto the Murray River Road which, I see, is now called the Great River Road (presumably a tourist marketing promotion to leverage off the Great Alpine Road and the Great Ocean Road) and follows the Murray River into the Snowy Mountains.

The beauty is that there is bugger all traffic on this road compared with the other two.  I went from Bellbridge to Granya without seeing another vehicle.  It’s pleasantly curvy and with a good surface.  The Granya Cemetery was easy to locate and so was the headstone.  I took some photos to upload to findagrave.com.

I came back via the Granya Gap Road, which has claimed a few motorcyclists over the years.  The road was dry, except in a few corners where the sun don’t shine, and in very good condition.  Then into Tallangatta for fuel.  I could have come back via my preferred route, the Cow Pat Highway (Gundowring Road), so called because of the dairy farms along the route, but I’ve done it a few times recently so went via Tangambalanga and Yackandandah and Carrolls Road.  A big black snake was absorbing some heat – a bit late in the season I thought – it was 14C.

Back home, I cleaned the Breva, washing the bugs off with a water spray and micro cloth, then a light spray and wipe with Plexus.  This is a plastic cleaner and polish developed for the aviation industry.   It can be used on plastic, paint, powder coating, etc, and beats having to wax or polish.  It’s not cheap but a can lasts for several years.

The big Guzzi is now 14 years old and looks good as new.

Life gets in the way.  We took a month off to drive to Perth and back, towing an Avan across the Nullabor, to visit our daughter.  Covered about 9000 kms all up, visiting rellies and so on  Missed the Spaghetti Rally!

Then the bushfires surrounded us, so we were stuck at home in smoke for weeks on end.  Couldn’t leave in case the emergency services blocked off the roads while we out and wouldn’t let us back in.  Then heavy rain (“It won’t rain until May” said the BoM) and flash flooding.  And it’s pouring as I write this.

So we only got in a few local rides for a coffee and to keep the engines oiled up.

Now we’re locked up due to the Corona Virus!  Apparently, riding my Guzzi is a bigger threat than joining the walking and jogging throngs out exercising, so I’m not supposed to go for a fang.  Going out for a slab of beer from a supermarket filled with shoppers is OK but not riding my Guzzi on my own.

But we’re allowed out for specific reasons such as getting food.

We’re having kidneys on toast for Sunday brekky, the Chief announced.  And none of that wussy devilled lambs kidney.  Get me an ox kidney!  And a loaf of Milawa Cornbread for crispy toast!

Sadly, ox kidneys are not sold in town but require a trip to another location (sob).  Hmmm, should I take the tin-top or the bike?  Easy peasy.  But which Guzzi?  I tend to alternate between bikes so it was the Cali EV’s turn.  Off I sped to Myrtleford Foodworks, which seems to be one of the few supermarkets that sells ox kidneys.  I took the direct route, the Cali running like a dream in the sunshine.

Packed the merchandise and considered the run home.  Such a nice day, it’d be a shame to waste it.  I headed north to Mudgegonga for the turn onto the curvy Carrolls Road.

Carrolls Road wriggles along quite pleasantly, especially today without traffic.  A lovely valley with Mt Buffalo often in view.  I didn’t have any 4WD up my arse, or running wide on the bends coming towards me.  Dodged a large black snake – I often encounter snakes on this road.  The recent rain had washed gravel and sand into some of the bends.  Carrolls Road ends on the popular motorcycle fanging route, the Happy Valley Road, which links the Great Alpine Road in the Ovens Valley and the Kiewa Valley.  Motorcycles coming between Corryong and Mansfield often take the Happy Valley.

A bit more twisting and I came into Ovens ( home of the Happy Valley Hotel , a popular motorcyclist pit-stop).

From here I headed home, with a break at Eurobin for a leak at the Murray to the Mountains Rail Trail dunny.

I’m a volunteer with www.findagrave.com, helping family researchers with photos of their ancestors’ graves and headstones.  I had a request to find a grave at Barnawartha Cemetery, so I kicked the Cali EV in the starter and headed off in sunshine via Beechworth.

Beechworth is up on a plateau; as I climbed the temperature dropped and the sky became gloomy and depressing.  But as I descended down the other side, the sky cleared into sunshine.  Don’t know how people live there!

I turned off onto the road to Barnawartha which was a pleasant meandering run down the valley and across the Hume Freeway into the old town.  The cemetery is big in area but the graves are in localised areas of religious denominations; they apparently expected the town to get much bigger.

The chap I was looking for was named “Baumgarten” who had immigrated from Germany and died in 1877.  Alas, although I found some descendants, his grave – as were many – was unmarked and had returned to the landscape.  Others were marked but without names.  One of his relatives was gaoled for receiving stolen horses from the Kelly brothers who lived in nearby Greta.

I slabbed it down the Hume Freeway for a smooth run to Wangaratta then home.