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Discussion Starter #1
Hey All,

I am currently in the black hills and good friend of mine on his Multi 1000 is having some major clutch slipping issues. Just happened on the last 50 miles of todays ride.

We are riding to Cheyenne tomorrow (at least that is the plan). Does anyone know any ducati shop in South west SD or Wyoming that we would be able to source a clutch? Closeted dealer is in Fort Collins Colorado. Cant find anything else online.

Any help would be wonderful!

Thanks in advance!
 

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Bummer, don't know the area, but try to bleed the clutch, replacing nearly all the fluid. Don't need any parts for that.
agreed. clutch packs don't evaporate in a few hours' riding time under normal street riding conditions. look for fluid leaks at the slave cylinder, disguised as chain oil gunk. how many miles on the bike/clutch pack?
 

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Look for oil contamination on the clutch plates, any shop (car or harley) can remove and inspect/clean plates. The dealer may not have parts but if stuck put out a call to any members in the area as most dry clutch packs should work even used. Having a slipping dry clutch is NOT normal unless something else is wrong to cause it (most squids do not do burn outs with a dry clutch ducati). A oem dry clutch pack should last 30,000-50,000 miles

Any motorcycle shop should be able to get a Barnett in a few days mid week and the change is easy by road side standards but first find out why it is slipping. New clutch with oil leak is no good as is a improperly set up hydraulic system.
 

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Discussion Starter #6
Hey All!

Thanks for your quick replies, they did help and we tried to get a little creative trying to make it work. The best we could do was ride her till the next big town that had a Uhaul. The closest shop that had an OEM dry clutch was in Boulder CO. They only had one left and trying to overnight a clutch would take two days time.

His bike made it out of the black hills and into New Castle WY. This is where decisions had to be made. Either wait the 12-18 hour window for a tow truck (also cost $1000) or leave the bike in the town and come back the next day with a Uhaul from Cheyenne. There was no car/truck/uhauls available to rent in New Castle but about 160 miles away there was a 32 foot box van available.

Well after some thinking we both looked at my Harley and back at the Multi and figured.. "Hey lets try towing it!" He rode bitch and we went to the local hardware store... bought some tow straps and headed back to the bikes. Fashioned up a bridle (it was a strong elastic tow band) and then looped the tow strap through his frame and then onto the bridle on my bike. It was not the safest thing to do but we had few options.

Worked all the way to Cheyenne! Just a little over 160 miles. We chugged along the highway, I was throttle he was brakes (have to keep tension on the tow rope). We could not have done it without our Senas... The following day we were able to get a tow truck and take the bike down to Boulder to pop in a new clutch. Shes running like new. He will now be caring an extra clutch with him on longer trips.

Those curious, we passed several state troopers and police and they did not seem to care. Made plenty of people laugh, and tons took pics.

It was truly a huge trust exercise for me and my buddy... just glad we made it to Cheyenne.

See pics below:
 

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In 1985 my dad and I rode from Yuma Az to Gardena Ca. to see a national race at Ascot Park. Race ended around 11:30pm, we went out to the parking lot where our bikes were, my bike fired up but the headlight was a bit dim. While riding down the freeway to find a hotel, my headlight became more and more dim. The headlight finally went out (at 80mph) and within seconds the engine died. My dad was a little ahead of me, but to my dismay it didn't seem as though he noticed I was pulling off the freeway, coasting with a dead engine, taking the first offramp I could make it to.

I was able to coast into a gas station in the ~Watts~ area. Somehow, my dad had exited the freeway and located me at that gas station. I was on a fairly new 1984 Harley Sportster XLX61, and he was on his battleship tug boat Harley FLH "dresser".

I fiddled around with the bike, and determined that the generator (yes, generator, not alternator) had failed and that I had been riding on the battery only, probably long before we ever even made it to Ascot that afternoon. The battery had finally died while on the freeway that night.

There were three guys at that gas station, all Mexican, and drinking beer, and speaking Spanish while glaring at us and laughing. It was an unsettling experience to say the least ... them looking at us like a dog looking at a raw steak. I think they were having a royal blast making the two "gringos" nervously squirm (I knew that's what they were doing, I wanted to laugh myself, but thought twice about that). My guess is only one of them was actually working, the other two were his buddies. I spent about a half hour fiddle dicking with the bike, finally giving in to the fact that there was no fixing it at the time, in that place. My dad approached the three fellas and offered to pay for a tow rope, he figured since it was a gas station they probably had some sort of rope. One of them stood up and said he'd get one right away. A few minutes later he returned with a garden hose, one end of it freshly cut off cleanly, the other end still had the threaded fitting on it. The fella took $5.00 for the garden hose that he'd very obviously just went and cut off of someone's water outlet on their house just around the corner from the gas station. I was wearing a gun concealed beneath my leather jacket (a blue N frame Smith double action revolver chambered in .45 Long Colt), and I kept that option in mind in the event things turned to shit. Fortunately things did not turn to shit. My dad at one point quietly asking me if I still had "that tool in my jacket" ... I nodded in the affirmative.

We tied one end of the garden hose to dad's bike, and I just wrapped my end around one wrist and clamped the end between my hand and the handlegrip. Off we went ... on to the freeway ... me holding the hose while manipulating my brakes, dad was the tow vehicle. About twenty five miles down the freeway (figuring by then we'd gone far enough to take us out of the high crime region) we spotted a Motel 6 and exited the freeway. We got a room on the bottom floor, parked the bikes right in front of our hotel room door, and bedded down for the rest of the night.

Next morning (which was Sunday) dad called the owner of the Harley shop at his home in Yuma where I bought the Sportster, and he confirmed my suspicions about the generator. We then checked out of the hotel, and he towed my bike with the hose again to a nearby service station (old speak for "gas station" back when the employees wore uniforms and called you "sir") where they allowed us to put a heavy duty quick charger on my battery. Meanwhile, I removed the tail light and brake light bulb, and the headlight bulb so neither would draw any current from the battery while riding. About two hours of "hot charge" on the battery, and $10.00 thrown at the service station, my bike fired right up and we headed back to Yuma ... about 180 miles east.

Up and over the Jacumba pass (a 9k foot climb) and all the way back to Yuma my bike ran perfectly without a single hiccup or miss. It even started right up the next morning (Monday) when I rode it to the Harley dealer to have the generator replaced, fortunately still under full warranty.



That garden hose made for the best damned tow rope ... it stretched and flexed wonderfully during the towing adventure. Dad and I told that story over and over for years to come, about breaking down in the "bad part of town" and paying a guy for a tow rope that he stole from someone's house, saying "here you go" as he handed the garden hose to my dad and took $5 bucks for his troubles.

I've often wondered what the resident of whatever house that hose came from thought when it was noticeably missing. This little 6 inch long stump sticking out from the water spigot.

:wink2:
 
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