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The tales of woe recited to dealership service writers typically start with the phrases, “My buddy, he…” We’ve all achieved it—gone to a better standing rider looking for recommendation or assist, solely to find “data” no higher than our personal. I did it with gear oil, and was advised by a succession of skilled folks to make use of ATF, 20-50 motor oil, or R-40. I attempted all of them, and in every case was rewarded with pitch-line pitting on the primary pinion.
A Triumph got here into our dealership to “get operating.” The proprietor had managed to crisp his new bike’s wire harness, and his buddy had graciously provided to rewire it. The buddy had solely black wire readily available, so each wire was the identical coloration, which meant tracing out each circuit to seek out the issue. He had additionally wired every little thing as quick as attainable—no additional, as normally allowed, to make it attainable to look at circuit parts.
One other rider put trendy gear oil within the trans of his 30-year-old two-stroke, solely to seek out that the bottom oil triggered his seals to shrink. Drip, drip. He drained the new new stuff, changed it with the unexciting low-tech lube its seals had been designed for, and the dripping stopped.
A good friend returned to membership racing after getting his household launched. He was amused by the excessive wind of recommendation he obtained on what two-stroke oil to make use of. That was within the time when anybody with a storefront and an advert funds was moving into the bike oil biz: Order in base inventory, dye it a wacky coloration (how about a number of sparkles or fruity scents?), pour in an additive package deal from the same old sources, and decant into plastic bottles. Battle of the phrases! Improbable claims! Extra energy, longer life, and higher gasoline mileage! A brand new and fabulous oil per week! The good friend dismissed all of it, calling the dozen pressing, shouting manufacturers “thriller oil.” Which amongst ye shall grow to be believers?
So the good friend phoned up Ucon and ordered a 5-gallon pail of the two-stroke oil the corporate was on the time supplying to most of the above. He then purchased a number of quarts of precise Marvel Thriller Oil (bettering energy and efficiency for the reason that Nineteen Twenties) and poured them right into a jug, which he put aside (I’ll guess I might discover it, someplace in his darkish basement). After solvent-washing the well-known black bottles with crimson lettering, he refilled them with Ucon fluid and went racing. Different riders gathered round, staring as he combined 5 gallons of gasoline.
“Uh, what sort of oil is that?”
“It’s a mystery,” he stated, smiling to himself.
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