From: davet@loowit.wr.tek.com (Dave Tharp CDS)
Newsgroups: rec.motorcycles
Subject: Circle the wagons! Indians a comin'!
Date: 9 Nov 92 22:25:52 GMT
Article-I.D.: wrgate.10873
Organization: Tektronix - Colorado Data Systems, Englewood, CO


                      The Return of a Chief
                         (part 3 of 3)
                           Dave Tharp

     With the addition of a pair of 5.00 x 16 Coker Commander
tires, the chassis was now fully assembled and rolling, waiting
only for the completion of the engine work.  The bike became a
bit of an attraction at Motorcycle Parts Center.  Almost everyone
who spotted it in the service bay had to wander in an have a
look.  Word spread, and people began stopping by just to see it
and check on its progress.
     Unfortunately, there wasn't much progress.  Springtime
repair work clobbered Knucklehead Gary, and Ron at the machine
shop had managed to break his foot, which did not stop him but
slowed him down considerably.
     The crankshaft assembly was delivered during the first week
in May, and it was a beauty.  I had taken a week's vacation at
the time, and J. T. began assembling the bottom end of the
engine.  To set the correct crankshaft endplay (.015 to .030
inches), he devised the clever method of putting the cases
together with zero endplay and a .020" spacer, disassembling them
and removing the spacer, then reassembling.
     Indians are notorious oil leakers, and part of the reason is
that gaskets were not used in places where they probably should
have been.  J. T. had vowed that this Indian would not leak, so
we manufactured gaskets for the gearbox cover and for the joints
between the primary case, engine, and gearbox.  The gasket
furnished with the set for the late-model aluminum oil-pump
housing fit very poorly, so a better one was fabricated.  Top-
quality Permatex silicone gasket sealer was used throughout.
     Oil circulation was checked by connecting hoses and a funnel
to the oil pump fittings, pouring oil in the funnel, and turning
the engine over with a rachet on the primary sprocket nut.  After
quite a bit of cranking, oil began merrily slopping around in the
crankcase, and the scavenge pump dutifully picked it up and spit
it out.  This procedure was very messy, but I recommend it, just
to make sure.  It also gets some lubrication into the engine for
the initial startup.
     The second week in June, the bottom end of the engine was
ready to go into the frame.  No picture could be found of the
engine mounts, but they were labeled with part numbers, and the
parts book said "Engine Mount - Right" and "Engine Mount - Left".
I installed them, and we set the bottom end into the frame.
Unfortunately, the rear engine mount did not line up, and the
engine seemed a bit cockeyed in the frame.  It was then pointed
out to me that when parts are labeled "Left" and "Right", it
refers to the rider's viewpoint.  Well, it wasn't too hard to
straighten out.
     J. T. examined all the clutch parts, and they were fine,
except for the throw-out plate, which was cracked.  He welded it
up and installed the clutch, which is completely conventional.
We were now able to install quite a few pieces, including the
primary cover, the drive chain, the generator pulley, belt, and
cover, and a new drive chain.  It amazes me that a nice, new
Japanese drive chain will fit perfectly on a 44-year-old American
motorcycle.
     Toward the end of June, the cylinders were fitted with new
valves, springs, and guides.  J. T.'s father unearthed a very
nice antique valve-seat grinder that had the correct sizes of
mandrels and grindstones.  It's unusual to find anything around a
motorcycle shop that can handle these huge valves.
     Assembling the top end is a bit of a puzzle.  In order to
clear the frame, the pistons must first be inserted into the
cylinders.  The barrels are then held over the appropriate
opening with the pistons halfway extended from the bottom while
the wrist pins and retaining clips are installed.  And don't
forget that the "T" shaped oil slits in the pistons must go
toward the front of the engine.  While the second barrel is being
installed, the intake manifold should be loosely attached to the
intakes because it's very difficult to install otherwise.  We
managed to get the manifold in upside down and backwards the
first time, pointing the carburetor out to the right like a
Harley.
     The heads are slid in from the right side, and some of the
bolts and the top engine stay must be positioned on them
beforehand.  They won't clear the frame with the head in place.
They can just barely be torqued with the tanks removed.  The top
engine stay attaches to two center head bolts that are shorter
than the rest.  To avoid stressing the frame lugs, it should be
first attached to the engine and then shimmed up to the frame.
It's not there to hold the engine up.
     The machine was now just about ready, and a maximum effort
was made to get it going before the end of June.  On the evening
of the 24th, the carburetor, distributor, ignition wiring, and
oil lines were hooked up, and the first attempt made to start the
engine.  Perhaps we expected too much. The carburetor, a 1 1/4
inch Lenkurt, immediately leaked from the bottom of the float
bowl, and after tightening the big nut, began to leak from the
top air vent.  We fooled around with the float level for a while,
and then started jumping on the kickstarter.  After kicking
ourselves to exhaustion, we figured out that the sparkplug wires
were reversed.  If there are two ways to hook something up, rest
assured that the wrong way will be initially selected.  After
resting for about an hour, we began leaping on the lever again,
and were rewarded with a variety of bangs, pops and thumps.  As
we fiddled with the distributor, it fired once, twice, three
times.  I finally gave my mightiest kick, and the engine coughed
and backfired to life!
     Well, it wasn't great, but it ran.  We went on to discover
air leaks at the joints between the manifold and the intakes, and
to discover an electrically leaky rotor by shocking ourselves on
the distributor housing.
     By Saturday, everything was ready for a shakedown cruise
except for the charging system, as the little red indicator light
steadfastly refused to go out.  The day was spent with multimeter
in hand, tracing the circuits.  Everything checked good, so I
finally removed the end plate from the generator to look at the
new brushes.  It has three of them, two on opposite sides of the
commutator, and a movable one in between.  After delving into my
engineer's memories of rotating machines and electro-mechanics, I
finally found the problem by reading the service manual.  "The
field coil wires are attached to the movable brush and to the
terminal marked 'F' under the regulator."  Sure enough, the
output wire was attached to the movable brush, and the field was
attached to the output brush.
     I reassembled the generator and hooked everything back up
with the highest of hopes.  The engine started fairly easily, but
still no charge.  Since the battery had a full charge, I resolved
to take a test ride anyway.  I backed the bike out into the
parking lot, pushed in the clutch and jammed it into first with a
resounding "GRRRIND" sound.  I revved the engine, fooled with the
advance, slowly let out the foot clutch, and lurched into motion.
I took a few laps around the building, starting and stopping each
time just to see if it could really be done, but I kept it in
first gear with the advance set right in the middle.  After
gaining a little confidence, it was time to ride a few blocks
around the neighborhood.  I only stalled it twice, once starting
out from a stop sign, and once by pressing the wrong end of the
clutch pedal while attempting to engage first.  Not bad for a
first outing.  And only 30 minutes spent in restarting to do 10
minutes of riding!
     It was the end of the day, so I decided to ride the bike
home, leaving my ordinary machine at the shop for the rest of the
weekend.  By the time I rode the 10 minutes to my house, I felt
like a seasoned veteran, and had actually managed to shift gears
a couple of times.
     So, I charged up the battery for an hour, and prepared to
ride it around a little that evening.  I decided to ride the bike
down to my favorite watering hole, where I had first received
news of the machine, and show it off to a few fellow riders.  On
the way, I glanced down at the instrument cluster, and noted with
alarm that the little red light was extinguished.  If the
charging system wasn't working, that would indicate that the
battery was dead.  But if the battery was dead, why was the bike
still running?
     It dawned on me that somehow the generator had started
working.  At the next stop sign, the engine idled down, and the
light came on!  As I throttled up, the light went out again!
Evidently, it took a while before the brushes became seated on
the commutator, and the dynamo took up its job of converting
mechanical energy to electrical energy.
     After showing the bike off and having a quick refreshment,
it was time to return home.  I jauntily flipped on the petcocks,
clicked the switch and commenced to kick.  Half an hour and
countless kicks later, the engine burbled to life in a huge cloud
of smoke that drifted through an open door and choked the other
patrons.  It momentarily cleared up, so I simply rode off into
the sunset.
     The next morning, I decided to take it out for a spin again,
and headed for the garage.  Normal procedure is to kick the
engine through a couple of times with the choke on, before
turning on the ignition switch.  It kicked over very hard, made
an abnormal "BLOOP-BLOOP" sound, and pooped out a blob of SAE 60
on the garage floor.  The check valve in the oil pump had failed
to close, and had allowed the oil tank to drain its entire
contents into the crankcase, a condition known as "wet-sumping".
The only short-term fix is to drain the crankcase and pour the
oil back into the tank.  This I did, and started up the bike.  I
headed out for an hour's ride to put a few break-in miles on the
machine, and ran out of gasoline after about five minutes.  I
forgot to check.  After about 30 seconds, a couple on a Harley
stopped to admire the machine, and were more than happy to fetch
some fuel for me.  No sooner had they left than other riders
began stopping to check on me, and they stayed until the gas
arrived and I kicked the beast to life.  A Chief is perhaps the
greatest attention-getter of all motorcycles.
     The rest of my little ride was quite uneventful, except for
the excitement and pleasure of riding this beautiful relic.  It's
certainly not a match for anything modern, but it's perfectly
rideable, even for long distances.  And after tightening
everything down a few times, parts don't seem to fall off any more.

                   -------- The End ---------

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
| Dave Tharp                      | DoD #0751   | "You can't wear out       |
| davet@loowit.WR.TEK.COM         | MRA #151    |   an Indian Scout,        |
| '88 K75S  '48 Indian Chief      | AHRMA #751  |  Or its brother the Chief.|
| '75 R90S(#151) '68 CB450(#751)  | AMA #524737 |  They're built like rocks |
| '65 R50/2/Velorex  '57 NSU Max  |             |   to take the knocks,     |
|       1938 BMW R12              | (Compulsive | It's the Harleys that     |
| My employer has no idea.        |   Joiner)   |   give you grief."        |
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Newsgroups: rec.motorcycles