A Royal Dilemma: Replace It or Rebuild It?

By Stephen Fishman, ISRA #1948

It Happens....
I've been riding motorcycles since I was 14 years old. Now, almost 40 years later, I can count on one hand the number of mishaps. During nearly four decades of riding, there was only an occasional near miss until, a year ago, I bounced off a curb and dumped the bike on an unmarked 90-degree curve. The good news was that I was only doing 25 mph at the time and walked away from the incident; the bad news was that my scoot was nearly totaled.

"Jake" Before the Accident

Decisions, Decisions
Do I sell the carcass for what I can get? Do I make minimal repairs, sell the bike at a fire sale price and buy something else? Do I rebuild it into something special?

I bought the black 1996 Yamaha Royal Star second-hand in 1998 with about 8,000 miles on the odometer and, during the next two years, added another 30,000 miles. "Jake" is my primary commute vehicle, and we had seen thousands of miles of back roads together. While wrangling with the insurance company for several weeks, I vacillated about which route to take. Finally, I decided to rebuild, for one simple reason--the Royal Star was the best ride I had ever owned.

To Wrench or Not to Wrench
My local Yamaha dealer has a cracker-jack service department, so I had them do some initial work just to make the bike road-worthy. I wanted to ride the bike home instead of paying another towing fee, even if it meant the dealer made some repairs thatI could have easily done myself. It was a matter of expediency to have them replace the handlebars, risers, and clutch master cylinder, but the rest could wait till I got it home.

I do as much maintenance as possible within a few self-imposed limitations. Whether or not to tackle a repair is a simple decision. I check the shop manual to determine the complexity of the repair and discover if special tools are needed. I will dive in to just about anything, excluding the inside of the engine and transmission.

Over the years, I have assembled a fair assortment of tools along with a hydraulic floor jack, so I can accomplish most tasks with relative ease. That said, it is my expectation when going into any bike project that it will take me approximately 1-1/2 times longer to make the repair than it would the dealer, and I figure I'm ahead of the game if I finish a project anywhere inside of this time frame.

Parts Is Parts
The plan was simple: Ride the bike as is and accumulate replacement parts in preparation for the long Labor Day weekend in September. Because the wreck happened in January and it was now February, I had seven months to locate the parts and contract with a painter.

The project began with an inventory. I carry extra insurance coverage for chrome and leather accessories, and becausee most of the accessories were damaged, there was a sizable settlement.

All accessories were stripped off with OEM fittings in one pile, Yamaha accessories in another, and aftermarket parts in a third. Jake carried a lot of chrome goodies at the time of the "incident," but many of them, such as the front fender rail, would not be replaced.

The parts that were in good shape but would not be used in the rebuild were offered for sale on the motorcycle club forums and Ebay. I'm not much of a packrat, so I focused on getting the parts out of my garage and into someone else's. I planned to keep or replace a lot of stuff, but, ultimately, I managed to sell almost all of the parts from all three piles.

When we went off the road, we landed in deep, soft turf, so there was almost no road rash. I straightened the saddlebag guards and interior frames of the hard leather bags. The rear fender was damaged, but the sub-frame was straightened and aligned perfectly with a replacement fender.

At the same time that I was selling off the stuff I didn't want, I was buying stuff I did. I bought second-hand parts and accessories when possible and splurged for new parts when necessary. Buying and selling activities became a part of my daily routine--checking Ebay and the forums, looking through the mail for money orders, scrounging boxes, packaging shipments, and going to the post office. I finally ran out of parts to sell and, with only a few things needed to finish the project, I went into a sort of withdrawal.

New Clothes
I looked for a painter while the buying and selling was in high gear. I inquired at local paint and body shops, but never got a warm fuzzy about any of them. The local shops seemed to be unjustifiably expensive, so I turned my search to out-of-town sources. I finally settled on Andrew Preston, the painting expert at Bushtec Trailers in Jacksboro, Tennessee.

A few years earlier, Yamaha had contracted with Andrew to custom paint 85 Royal Stars in an ivory pearl color for the one-time offering of the "Palomino" model. I figured if he was good enough for Yamaha, he was good enough for me.

Jacksboro is a long way from Houston, but between email and snail mail, we finally agreed on a cream pearl color with gold leaf and tan striping. I wanted something elegant and simple. To enhance the retro look of the Royal Star, Andrew painted the chrome buckets on the headlight and passing lamps along with the fork covers and radiator side covers. While most riders chrome the forks, I wanted more paint.

Chrome Is Good, Too
Because I like to ride every day, I didn't want to take down the bike for a couple of weeks while parts were shipped out on a chrome exchange program. I bought new and used parts, knowing I would later get a refund when the original was returned to the vendor. I disassembled and polished the switch housings myself, and both master cylinders were exchanged for polished versions. Nothing was chromed. I like the contrast of different finishes, such as chrome against brushed aluminum, and so forth.

That's not to say chrome goodies were sparse--quite the contrary! The list of plated accessories is long and includes items such as covers for the front rotors and calipers, backing plates for the passenger pegs, and replacements for virtually all exposed bolts.

Exhausting Work
The exhaust pipes needed some attention, too. The Royal is a V-4, and there are four exhaust pipes. The lower pipe on each side was damaged, but the uppers were not. I really didn't want to buy a whole set of four when I only needed two replacements. I called Tom in the customer service and tech support department of Baron's Custom Accessories to see if he could help.

The pipes on the bike were from Baron's and had been installed along with a jet kit a year prior. Early in 2001, Yamaha announced the discontinuance of the Royal Star and, like other aftermarket suppliers, Baron's began reducing their inventory of accessories for this fine bike. Tom said that they were no longer making pipes for the Royal Star, but he might be able to scrounge a set of lowers at an attractive price. Sure enough, he came through.

Pull Up a Seat
The bike was fitted with a Corbin Dual Tour saddle when I bought it, but I've never cared for the looks of a single two-up seat. I sold the seat, backrest pad, and driver backrest as a set and replaced them with OEM seating from a 1998 Royal Star Tour Deluxe. I added a driver backrest from Utopia that matched the design of the Yamaha seating.

I feel that studded leather accessories take away attention from chrome bits here and there, so the seats and saddlebags are unadorned.

Most of the time, I ride solo with a fender rack in place of a passenger seat, but a two-up configuration takes less than fifteen minutes to complete.

The Work Weekend
No doubt you've heard the expression, "Measure twice and cut once." Well, that's how I felt in early September. I reviewed the shop manual several more times,and got an early start on Saturday morning. By the end of the day, everything had been removed except the engine, transmission, and wheels. Each part that came off dispelled a bit more of the mystery surrounding how the bike was put together. Anything is easy when you know how, and by the time Jake was down to the frame and power train, I had a much better understanding of the bike's underpinnings.

"Jake" Naked

The wiring harness running through the rear fender was as simple to understand as the sub-frame supporting the fender itself. The mounts and components of the tank were logical and straightforward to transfer from the damaged fuel tank to the new one. My greatest fear was disassembling the forks--the steering system!--but even the forks and clamps seemed logical as one component after another came off.

It was early evening before everything had been removed that needed to be, and I quit for the day with a feeling of confidence that comes from knowing you can to do the job right. I just knew everything would turn out well.

The reassembly process went smoothly but took longer than the disassembly because every part was cleaned and polished before it was bolted on. So it was midday on Monday before the reconstruction was finished.

"Jake" Becomes "Jackie"

Going Down the Road
I still may not be willing to adjust the valves, but now I'm ready to dig deeper than I would have ever thought into my scoot's inner workings. Learning to balance the carburetors is the next thing on my list.

I sit a bit closer to the tank these days because of the new saddle, and I'm more aware of little sounds than I was before. The paintwork gets admiring looks from other riders, which is at least part of the reason for doing it. The bike doesn't feel different since the rebuild, and it doesn't handle any differently; but that's sort of the point, isn't it? To me it means I've put Jake back together correctly, and I learned a lot about how to make future repairs and modifications.

There's something else, too: the self-satisfaction that comes from doing a tough job well, and the knowledge that you can do it again. The regard my fellow riders have for me has edged up a bit, too, and my smile is a bit wider knowing I'm more personally responsible for how well we travel together.

One thing did change: The cream pearl paint and gold striping convinced me that "Jake" had morphed into "Jackie."