A final drive takes a dump
Mark Fisher
Had a bad day last
Saturday. I had just installed my new vintage white-faced
Russian speedo and decided to head about 15 miles out of
town for a swap meet. I was on the freeway for about two
minutes when I heard that SPWEEE sound a speedo makes
when it winds up and is about to implode. Sure enough the
needle was pegged at 120 and the spring broke before I
could slow down enough to pull over. I pulled off the
freeway and disconnected the cable and decided to press
on. We made it to the swap meet just fine, but while
there I noticed I had forgotten to re-install the rear
diff filler plug when I checked it that morning. I had
set the plug on the sidecar frame and driven off, so now
it's happily living in the bushes somewhere between
Minneapolis and Delano. The fluid level was still okay so
I plugged the hole and we loaded up and headed back into
town. About halfway back the diff started pounding like
someone was hitting it from the inside with a rawhide
mallet. It only happened when I accelerated and we were
in the middle of nowhere so I had to limp it back into
town until we got close enough to find a rib joint with
beer. After a
relaxing drink and some great ribs I put the bike on the
center stand and noticed that the two halves of the drive
housing were moving in opposite directions. All those
original locknuts and washers I had torqued last year
were now anywhere from 1 to 1½ turns loose. I tightened
everything up and we limped back home. The noise
decreased in volume but I knew I had broken a tooth or
had some other semi-catastrophic failure.
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