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**Charlie G** · 10-30-2014, 03:29 PM

Glad to see your going to write up your trip. Where I live the humidly is so low that one needs to check your battery several times a year. I didn't catch what the "Assassins of Bruges" referred to on your last trip, until I came across the movie on Netflix. Is that a spare clutch cable laying next to the operating clutch cable? Look forward to more posts.

cg

**Rob S.** · 10-30-2014, 05:05 PM

Originally posted by Charlie G View Post

Is that a spare clutch cable laying next to the operating clutch cable?

Good eye!

Double clutching - I thought that was only done on old trucks.

**londonboards** · 10-30-2014, 07:49 PM

I ran the spare clutch cable through the bike as I wanted to carry a spare and have it ready to go. I am on old timer. We always did it in the old days because those cables had a nasty habit of letting you down far from home. But I guess it's just an old hang up of mine. It was a trick my Dad taught me. Kinda like doing it for him.

Greetings

**Charlie G** · 10-30-2014, 08:39 PM

Originally posted by londonboards View Post

I ran the spare clutch cable through the bike as I wanted to carry a spare and have it ready to go. I am on old timer. We always did it in the old days because those cables had a nasty habit of letting you down far from home. But I guess it's just an old hang up of mine. It was a trick my Dad taught me. Kinda like doing it for him.

Greetings

At our rally last September AZR had his clutch cable brake( among other things, and he mentioned that someone suggested doing just what you have done. I think before i go on another long trip, I'm going to get a throttle and clutch cable and rig it up. Even nicer that you learned it from your dad. I'm also going to be carrying a tire pump and some tyre plugs.

**londonboards** · 10-31-2014, 01:39 PM

2. Rectifying An Electrical Problem in Italy - 2

The next day we set off for the Black Forest and enjoyed a great day of biking as we headed for Landeck in Austria. We chose the westerly route that took us along the side of Lake Constance and through Friedrichshafen. And as was befitting the home of the Zeppelin, a massive airship flew across the lake just as I arrived.

It was a Sunday and the German bikers were out in great numbers. Pack after pack of 20 or 30 bikes would pass us in the other direction and in some cases, the more enthusiastic riders would overtake us going in our direction. All of them, without fail, giving us the bikers V sign or the extended leg. One particular German gave us an amazing display of one handed cornering, his other hand extended downward towards the white lines in the middle of the road with his two fingers out, literally grazing the road surface, looking like a speed skater going round an icy bend. We talked about it endlessly afterwards. It was a beautiful (if not foolish) sight. It was almost as if extending this bikers sign of acknowledgement was of far greater importance than personal safety. Quite honestly, there are times when I do not feel it is safe to even look at other riders, let alone take my left hand off the bars and salute them. It reminded me of the time a French man drove off the road and nearly had a bad accident as he gesticulated at our Volvo, with its daylight running lights, which he obviously thought should not be on. For these Germans, it seemed, the whole point of riding a bike was the opportunity to salute your fellow riders.

This is a Google Image - but you get the picture - our hero was on a super sports bike.

At this stage there was no obvious sign that my battery was boiling itself dry beneath my seat. On reflection, and once I had identified it, the smell of vapourised battery acid was beginning to follow me around. And when I finally took the battery out two days later, my olfactory senses instinctively knew that this odour, in lower concentrations, was what had been wafting around the bike for a while. Any font of knowledge on these GS Suzukis will tell you that the charging system is the Achilles heel of these bullet proof roller bearing crankshaft behemoths. This was one of the reasons I had checked over the electrical wiring, introduced 3 more earthing circuits and replaced a rectifier / regulator just a few months ago. I had been prompted to do so because it hadn’t been charging well and I had found a burned out wire in the loom. That was it. The problem was sorted.

The Hotel Enzian bike shelters:

Our night in the biker’s hotel in Landeck (The Hotel Enzian) was memorable. We met up with our two friends who had flown over from California and rented BMWs in Munich. There were now 6 of us. There were perhaps 40 or 50 bikes in the hotel’s purposefully designed bike shelters and a marquee, which was hosting a small BMW bike show with the offer of test rides. I was amazed at dinner time to see the room full of beautifully turned out couples who looked like they were on their honeymoon. Not a biker looking person in sight. Perhaps they were all down at the local greasy spoon. I realised the next day, when they all came down for breakfast that this was what German bikers look like in the evening. Us Brits by comparison were dutifully scruffy. The hotel was also astonishing from the point of view that the whole enterprise was operated by one lone Fraulien. She signed us in at reception, ran over to the bar and poured us all a beer, ran back to reception, answered the phone, came back to fill up the beers and ran into the kitchen. Presumably she was preparing the evening meal as well. Although she did have a helper to serve up the 40 covers in the dining room later on. She even had time to smile and stop for a photo.

Here's one of the gang with the said lady:

The next morning we assembled for what was to be the beginning of “SatNav Wars”. This is a new game where you all programme the same destination into your fancy SatNav and then all end up wanting to go off in different directions. In order to prevent this, you stop at every junction along the route and pour over impossible to see, sunned out, digital displays and argue about which direction to finally take. In the old days we just used to ride until we needed to stop for a pee or something to eat. Now it seems we were at the mercy of alien possessed satellites, who’s only function in life was to sap the will to live out of groups of touring bikers.

(Next part: Part 3)

**londonboards** · 11-02-2014, 03:23 PM

3. Rectifying an Electrical Problem in Italy - 3

There were 4 BMWs of recent vintage in the group, a Triumph Rocket III (you know the huge cruiser thing that looks like a tractor engine has been shoehorned into it) and of course a 32 year old Suzuki with an air cooled engine. I have never sampled the delights of ABS, 3 way engine mapping, Hill Start Control or even Fuel Injection for that matter, on a motorbike . As for Electronic Suspension Adjustment and Dynamic Traction Control. I just use my right hand. But here I was amongst the best of today’s technology, managing to keep up speed wise and even go around some corners at the same speed and leaning at almost the same angle, despite having only half of the width of the Triumphs massive rear boot. We joked that we would need a Scania Truck workshop to replace that huge monster of a tyre and probably a few bob in the bank as well. But at the end of the day it was my “chicken strip” that was the smallest.

Our third day was to be over the Italian Alps and onto Riva Del Garda, the city at the top of the lovely Lake Garda. In the process of getting there (apart from the dozens of SatNav Wars stops we needed to have), we climbed up and over 3 passes, The Stelvio Pass being the ultimate hairpin lunacy. It has to be done but in fairness it is not the best fun I have had on a bike. Doing 48 blind hairpins on the way up, being hassled by 100s of cyclists, who pelt downhill towards you at colossal speeds (and given the paucity of rubber on the road and lack of any discernible brakes that these bicycles have, you are left wondering which of them is going to plough into you and send you over the 2,000 metre edge). My baby made it with considerable clunking, as most corners were first gear numbers and the shaft drive gear train was complaining. On top of that the engine and oil were heating up with the enormous amount of work required to move a 550 pound (250 kg) lump of motorbike up 12% gradient sections at walking pace. At that speed there is virtually no air cooling happening and with altitudes of up to 2,758 metres, the engine loses about 20% of its power so you have to work it harder. Perhaps Fuel Injection does have its benefits!

Coming down the other side of these high altitude passes with snow on their summits, we entered the hot humid air of Northern Italy. It was like entering a sauna. Any stop we made (for more SatNav wars, to fuel up or to eat) necessitated the immediate need to strip down to T shirts for fear of actually melting.

We arrived in Riva Del Garda which was very much like arriving in the South of France. A holiday atmosphere prevailed and tour busses and hotels were the predominant scenery. We hadn’t booked any accommodation for this leg of the journey so we started a new version of the SatNav game; iPhone “Near Me” Hotel look ups. Who was going to be the first person to find a hotel near us, with an English speaking receptionist (many Italians speak no English at all, not even understanding “Do you have 3 double rooms”) and what was the price. We quickly found the Hotel Giuliana not far from the petrol station where we were all stripped down to our Ts and made our way over to it.

(Next part: Part 4)

**londonboards** · 11-04-2014, 03:22 PM

4. Rectifying an Electrical Problem in Italy

It was the next morning when it finally hit home. Because I didn’t have designer luggage which was detachable from steel framed holders, I needed more time than the others to baggage up the bike with my bungees and soft bags. Getting to my bike first, I rolled it out of the parking spot I was sharing with a BMW and hit the start button.

The dreadful sinking feeling hits you hard in the gut. I knew immediately that I was completely stuffed. I knew the battery had lost its charge and I was about to become the first casualty of the trip. And more specifically, I knew the most likely reason; the stator or rectifier had failed, possibly both of them. There was no road side fix for this type of catastrophic failure. I was doomed.

There was the slightest chance I could bump the bike and ride on hoping I had mis-diagnosed the whole thing and the charging system would miraculously fix itself. I had bumped this beast before when I had a dead battery. With help from the crew, a quick bump got me going. I loaded up my bags and with a deep apprehension and 1,000 questions racing through my mind, we headed off along Lake Garda. I was not going to leave the pack if there was any chance I could keep going. I didn’t want to hold anyone up either. So I took the decision to ride with them as long as I could keep going.

(Next part: Part 5)

**Joe Garfield** · 11-04-2014, 03:36 PM

Beautiful photography!

**posplayr** · 11-04-2014, 03:38 PM

Was fortunate enough to explore Lake Garda back in about 2000. Beautiful and amazing area. We were on a 1 month long holiday in Germany but were getting rained out in Bavaria. Took a quick jaunt down and even got to do some Windsurfing from one of the more popular WS Hotels there just hanging off the cliff.

Middle of the alps but lizards running around and about 200 ft AGL.

**cowboyup3371** · 11-04-2014, 11:55 PM

I love the pictures

**londonboards** · 11-09-2014, 02:24 PM

5. Rectifying an Electrical Problem in Italy - 5

The SatNavs, despite hours of deliberations, had not agreed on a route for the day. We rode somewhat aimlessly for several hours through the thick traffic of the Lake Garda tourist towns. At one point all six of us were overtaken by a shapely young girl with very bare legs on a twist and go scooter. This caused howls of laughter as one of our US brethren had claimed never to have been overtaken by anyone on 2 wheels in his whole biking career. These little moments are what make trips like this memorable.

What was no laughing matter was how I was going to make it home. There were endless deliberations and possible scenarios spinning around in my head. Divine intervention seemed like the only way I was ever going to get this bike back to its home and we were still heading away from England.

We stopped again after several hours in a small town about 20 miles south of Modena in Italy. We rolled into the town square with thoughts of lunch and a review of the satnavs. When you know that your battery and charging system are completely goosed and that you are likely going to need a bump start to get going again, you always look for higher ground. I therefore parked away from the others and pointed the bike in the direction of the gentle downhill slope of the town centre.

As soon as I killed the engine I hit the start button again. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not even a glimmer. This was it. The bike had expired. I told the rest of the group to go to lunch and I would stay with my bike and call the European roadside rescue service I had signed up with before leaving and that they should now leave me here and I’d find my own way home. I didn’t want to impair their progress especially for our US friends who had invested heavily in this trip.

I called my breakdown company in the UK and started the procedure for getting help. Their first suggestion was that they would send a local mechanic to see if the bike could be fixed by the side of the road. I tried to convince them that there was no chance that it could be fixed and that we should start the process of getting me and the bike home. But the system was set up that the local mechanic needed to visit first and then if he could not fix it, it would be taken to the nearest garage. If they couldn’t fix it, then it would be shipped home. I would get a couple of days in a hotel and a flight home. There was one provision the operator needed to check. Apparently the bike would only be repatriated if the value of the bike was more than the cost of repatriation. I quickly estimated the value of my bike for insurance purposes at �500 and the cost of repatriation at over �1,000 considering the distance we were away from home. This wasn’t going to work. “Don’t you understand, this bike is worth millions to me?” I replied. “ It might only have a book value of �500 but I specifically took out Classic Bike European cover to get me and my bike home if it broke down”. This was going to be interesting.

There were several in our group who were quite technically minded and were curious as to the cause of my problems. None of them ever having owned a GS Suzuki before, were aware of the electrical pitfalls that besiege these bikes. But before they went to lunch they stayed with me as I stripped all the luggage off the bike, laid out my tools, rolled out my mechanics prayer mat (small piece of carpet to kneel on when fixing your bike by the side of the road) removed the seat and side panels and started taking out the battery and check the wiring.

As soon as I got near to the battery, I could feel it was hot and my worst fears were confirmed; I knew that it had been overcharged by a broken regulator. What I didn’t know was the extent of the heating (boiling) and that the battery was completely devoid of water. I held up the battery to the assembled crew to show them the damage and the finality of my decision to stay here and be left behind. There simply was no cure to this problem. We were going to part company and I was resigned to this scenario.

“Hold on a moment! Just put some water back in it” quipped one of my crew. I have to admit I had never thought about doing such an elementary fix to such a terminal failure. I pondered the logic of this simple solution. I’m a mechanic by nature and I have buried my head in the sand when it comes to the fettling of the electrics on my bikes. Even though I have read endlessly in the forums about these problems and even replaced a previously dead rectifier and installed additional earth loops, I am still a rookie newbie when it comes to electricity. I’ve never understood how a battery can store this invisible power and then spit it out when you need it. But here was a member of our touring group who knew about such matters. “It’s simple. The battery won’t work without water”.

I did know that you never needed to replace the acid in a battery. Probably something my Dad had told me back in the early ‘70s when I was watching him readjust the primary chain on his Triumph 650 Tiger for the umpteenth time. It was a job he hated doing but it gave us time together and was probably instrumental in developing my love of 2 wheel mechanics. All I knew was that batteries sometimes needed topping up with water. Well here was a battery that needed completely refilling with water. The suggestion my touring companion had made to do this had credence. I was stuffed in any case so why not try it?

The next problem was finding some water. Between us we mustered up 200 cc of Evian and a bottle of Sparkling mineral water. The Evian went in first. But not without complications. The little battery water holes are not really designed to take water from a bottle. You need a very thin funnel to avoid spillage. At least half of the Evian ended up on the sandy floor of the town centre parking lot. We were still way off from filling it so we broke open the sparkling mineral water. At this point I was prepared to try anything. I had nothing to lose. The sparkling water went in.

With the water topped back up and the battery put back in its holder, I attached the positive and earth leads. At this point I had no expectations. I was resigned to the idea of finding the nearest airport, flying home and having the bike repatriated somehow. After my call to the breakdown service back home in the UK, I knew this was going to be a struggle or at least very expensive but it would be possible.

The fact that the bike fired up with the first touch of the button, turned all of my thoughts of breakdown services completely on its head. There was lots of congratulatory back slapping at this point and the lads went off to lunch whilst I put the bike back together and put all my tools away. I immediately deduced that the battery had only been gently boiled over the last 3 days and if I was able to keep it topped up with water I might at least be able to make it some of the way back home.

I called the breakdown service back and cancelled the impending roadside assistance. I would tackle the issue about repatriation at another time. The bike was now back to its old self. It would start immediately as it always had. The sparkling mineral water has worked its magic and was now even making me feel better.

I decided that I would stay with the group as they rode on and take another look at the bike when we stopped that evening. I had brought a multi meter with me and two sheets of instructions on how to test the bikes charging system. I had performed these tests before but they would now be crucial. If too many volts were getting past the regulator, the battery will overheat and eventually burn out. I would find out tonight the extent of the problem.

When we set off after lunch I was in a completely different mind set. We had got the bike going, there was a possibility that the problem was not as terminal as I had first thought and so far, I caused little or no disruption to the progress of the group. I was still in the game.

We rode on, still with no particular destination in mind but generally heading south. Around 5 o’clock we pulled into a petrol station, stripped off to cool down and took our phones and satnavs out to look for a bed for the night. We were in Castelnovo ne’ Monti, about 30 miles south of Parma and we found a hotel, rode on and booked in. It was beers all round as there was a general sense of relief that the group had managed to stay together and perhaps even enjoyed a touch of drama on the way. I was more than relieved to be in a place of sanctuary and refreshment which would give me time and space to consider my next move.

The first thing you do when you reach the end of the day - beer and phones:

(Next part: Part 6)

**Charlie G** · 11-09-2014, 10:37 PM

This is what I'm currently using to fill the battery cells with. In the past I used a straw, dipped in water with my finger over the end to hold the liquid from leaking out. I seem to need to check every 3-4k miles on both bikes. It's really low humidity here. Nice write up.

cg

**londonboards** · 11-13-2014, 03:39 PM

6. Rectifying an Electrical Problem in Italy - 6

I decided to strip the bike back down and get the multi meter to give me the numbers on the electrics. I again gave up on the idea of joining the group for a meal, opting instead to work on my injured stead. Beer and peanuts were sufficient fuel for me at this point. It wasn’t long before it started to get dark but the hotel proprietor took pity on me and brought out a portable strip lamp to help illuminate my bike. I had my own torch but it’s impossible to work on a bike with one hand holding a torch.

The charging system quick test called for 13.5 to 14.0 volts to be going into the battery when the engine was at 2,500 rpm. My readings were between 14.75 and 15.0 volts. To my uninitiated mind, a few volts here or there didn’t seem too bad. I consulted my forums and even called a mate in Kenya who contacted another mate in the US to determine my next move. At this point, as it had got dark and the engine was running so I could take my voltage readings, I saw that the main headlight wasn’t working on its dipped beam. It was all coming together now. The excess voltage had blown the bulb exacerbating the overcharging problem. My mate in Kenya had suggested putting an extra headlight bulb into the charging circuit to act as a resistor. This would reduce the volts going into the battery. I twigged that with a headlamp replacement and this possible extra circuit, I could probably reduce the charging voltage enough to save the battery and get me home.

As luck would have it, directly opposite the hotel was an auto electrics shop and garage. And given that Italian shops stay open late, it was still open. I went across the road to get a new headlamp bulb and to see if they might have a car regulator rectifier that I might press gang into the bike, which was another suggestion that had been made. I showed them the broken bulb, which they easily understood needed replacing, then I started asking about a “regolatore raddrizzatore”. This is where things started to get complicated. I was able to point across the road to the bike. The store manager picked up an oily address book and flicked through it with a look of triumph. “Suzuki” was all I could understand and I wrote down the address of what was clearly a some kind of motorbike parts shop: Speedmania.it. I quickly looked them up on the iPhone and saw that they had regulator/rectifiers.

Things were looking up. I went back to the bike, popped in the new bulb and put it all back together. Then called up the lads and tracked down where they were having dinner, rushed round and manage to get a plate of pasta with mushroom sauce. My mood had lifted. The charging issue was perhaps not as serious as I had first thought, I had reduced the voltage by putting in a new headlamp bulb and I had found a shop less than 25 miles away that might just have a replacement regulator I could use.

I slept well that night and woke early. I had agreed at this point to leave the group and head back north to my spare parts shop in Reggio Emilia. The others wanted to come but I didn’t want the burden of their biking day being ruined by my bike’s failure. They headed south. It was raining, foggy and the roads were appalling. Roadworks nearly the whole way. The bike was covered in grey mud. Using Google Maps on the iPhone, I found my way to the parts shop. As I rode into Reggio Emilia the clouds dispersed and the sun came out. I knew that was a good sign.

Initially I was quite distressed to see not a single motorbike anywhere in sight. It was a regular shop front in a modern shopping mall with outside parking. Where were all the bikes? The shop windows were full of generic parts, accessories and clothing. There was no mention of the word Suzuki.

I went inside and simply said “regolatore raddrizzatore” and pointed to my bike outside. All three of the employees started to either go through catalogues or start on-line searches. I could see that they would be able to identify the part quite easily and I was waiting for the news that it would take 2 weeks to be ordered and delivered. For the 5 minutes or so that I stood behind that counter waiting for the answer, I was in a state of suspended animation. My mind was racing and every part of me was proverbally crossed. One of the lads went into a back room and immediately came out again carrying a small white box. It was the right size. He put it on the counter, opened it up and with a big smile on his face, took it out of the box and handed it to me. Have you ever wanted to kiss a complete stranger?

(Next part: Part 7)

**GSXR7ED** · 11-13-2014, 07:07 PM

^^Hahahaha!!!!!

Friggen' love it. Kiss a complete stranger, huh?

I hope it all works out for you. Your writing is fabulous, btw. I'm reading every line with my interpretation of an accent.

Ed

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Rectifying An Electrical Problem in Italy - 1

Rectifying An Electrical Problem in Italy - 1

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