Ah, Garage Therapy—what was once my sanctuary of peace, tinkering, and greasy satisfaction has slowly devolved into something resembling a high-stakes endurance test. Once upon a time, I relished the solitude of maintaining and upgrading my motorcycles, savoring the process as much as the rides themselves. These days? Let’s just say I’m more focused on the “end result” and less on the joy of “wrench time.”
As I’ve aged (gracefully, of course), my vision has dimmed, my steadiness has wobbled, and my patience has worn thinner than a knobby tire on pavement. Yet, here I am, trying to rekindle the spark. It helps that my stable consists of seven bikes—four labeled as “projects” (read: non-functional) and three “ready to ride” (if you overlook the minor necessary upgrades).
The current apple of my eye is a 1997 XR600R, decked out as a dual sport. This bike has earned its spot as my all-time favorite, but like any relationship, it’s not without its baggage. It runs—barely—but needs carburetor work. Oh, and all four turn signals are broken, and the speedometer’s on strike.
Enter the Carburetor Chronicles
Free time is scarcer than a sunny weekend without responsibilities, so I turned to the age-old art of bartering. I traded a 1995 Nighthawk 750 (a.k.a. “the bike I needed gone”) for a carburetor rebuild. The results? It started and ran like a dream… while also leaking fuel like a sieve. Coordinating a fix with the rebuilder has been tricky since the XR lives at the mountain house, and I rarely get to visit my distant garage sanctuary.
Turn Signals and Wiring Nightmares
A couple of rare free weekends found me back in the garage, tackling the turn signals. Finding replacements was an adventure in itself. I stubbornly refused to go LED for reasons even I can’t explain. Most traditional options were comically oversized, but I finally scored a pair I liked from Summit Racing (Figure 1).
Then came the wiring. The XR600 has the electrical equivalent of a Jackson Pollock painting. It’s got the original harness, a Baja Designs dual-sport harness, and a rewound stator from Baja Designs, originally meant to power a 9-inch Baja headlight. Let’s just say the wiring job has… evolved over the years.
After puzzling over the connections for far too long, the right-side signals worked great. The left? Constant-on. Any other configuration either killed the engine or prevented it from starting. Delightful. I did what any self-respecting motorcyclist does: I Googled it. Thanks to a wiring diagram on the Baja Designs site, I finally got it sorted. Well, hopefully. The carburetor leak worsened to the point where the bike is now a glorified gas fountain that won’t start. So no more testing.
Speedometer: Vapor Dreams
For the speedometer, I opted for the Trail Tech Vapor (Figure 2). Installation was mostly painless. Mounting it, connecting the power, and setting up the wheel sensor were straightforward. But the temperature sensor? That was a whole other circus.
The instructions were clear: slip a copper ring under the spark plug (Figure 3). Easy, right? Except the ring was too small. After some careful filing and swearing, I got the plug through, but reinstalling it wasn’t happening thanks to clearance issues. Back to the internet. I found an alternative method: installing it inline with the oil line to measure head temperature, which I’d honestly prefer anyway (Figure 4).
The tachometer sensor was another story. The “solution” involves wrapping a wire around the spark plug wire five times (Figure 5). Yes, you read that right. It feels like something a third-grader would suggest, but since the bike isn’t running, testing it is currently off the table.
Heat Guard Hijinks
Next on the list was reinstalling the exhaust heat guard. I dug the old guard out of a box and remembered why I’d removed it—it rattled. Turns out, the bolt was broken and still stuck in the hole. That’s a project for another weekend.
The Petcock Problem
While troubleshooting all of this, the petcock on the fuel tank decided it wanted in on the leaking action. Gas was everywhere. I took the opportunity to swap the stock tank for a larger 4.0-gallon IMS tank. Its petcock was in rough shape too, but with replacement parts in hand, the swap went smoothly.
Aesthetic Aspirations
To top it all off, I’ve ordered new UFO plastics and graphics. Because if this bike can’t run right, it might as well look fantastic sitting still.
Therapy or Torture?
In the end, this round of Garage Therapy felt more like Garage Torture. My goal was relaxation and progress, but frustration took the wheel instead. Still, I’m holding out hope that once the XR600R is running again, I’ll reap the rewards of these countless hours of sweat, swearing, and online shopping.
Until then, I’ll keep telling myself that it’s all part of the process.
