This wasn't the first time the Vespy has left me stranded and it certainly won't be the last. That's why I've decided to make this a running series on the blog. So, without further ado, I present to you part I of what the New York Time's has labeled "The best written series of the modern era." Not my words, theirs.
It all started last weekend when I went to make an afternoon thrift shop run. I was about fifteen minutes from home sweet home when I approached what was undoubtably one of the biggest hills in the city. Of course, being the living reincarnation of Evel Knievel, I absolutely gunned it. I'll tell you what folks, theres nothing more exhilarating than moving at skin-blistering speeds on two-wheeled hotrod. The wind was my air-conditioning, the road was my iPod and the drivers behind me were stepping on their breaks. Anyways, once I had topped out at 35 mph I decided to slow her down and kick it back into third. Big mistake.
The sound engine quickly transitioned from that of a (baby) lion's roar to the quite hum of bumble bee. I quickly shifted from third to second, then again from second to first which succeed in nothing other than further slowing me down. By this time, I had managed to steer the scooter into a nearby lot and kill the engine. Luckily, I had my phone on me so I was able to call my mechanic to see if he had any ideas. Sure enough Big Buddy came though in the clutch - right away he suggested cleaning out the idle jet. On top of that, he told me that all I needed was five minutes, a flathead screwdriver and some compressed air. I had all the time in the world, but I usually don't just walk around with screwdrivers and keyboard cleaner at the ready. So begins the trek back home.
I did a quick google maps search just to show you how far out I had gone. Five miles isn't a huge distance, but it was starting to rain and I was in shorts and Birkenstocks so I might as well have been walking to Pluto. I ended up getting ahold of a Lyft, but I wasn't too ecstatic about paying $12.42 for a fifteen minute joyride. To avoid going into the hole $24.84 I decided to run back with the flathead and compressed air in hand. Of course, it wasn't until three miles in that I realized I had forgot my keys in the toolbox back home. Nine miles and ninety minutes later I made back to my scooter and was finally able to work on the issue.
Here's a picture of what's going on under the seat. It's kind of hard to see, but I tried to circle the screw that had thwarted my weekend cruise.
The jet is made of brass, so you really have to be careful not to be too hard on it with the flathead. I managed to get get it unscrewed and, sure enough, there was a ton of gunk all in and over the tiny little jet. I wish I would have gotten a picture of it - maybe next time it gets all bogged up I'll have the wherewithal to snap a shot. Either way, here's what the jet looks like now that it's been cleaned out.
While it wasn't necessarily and engine rebuild, I'm pretty stoked that I was able to fix the scoot using my own two hands. I know this blog didn't really talk a whole lot on dentistry, but I should mention that it's this cool feeling I get when I fix something is a huge reason why I fell in love with the dental field. Of course, I've still got a ways to before I can fixing up people's smiles. In the meantime though, I'm sure my Vespa will keep me busy.
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