Coughing with bad headache

As title says, This isnt a cautionary tale so much as a war story for the sake of it and to add to the wealth of knowledge on these bikes a story of… a curious thing that happened. XD That’s to say this isn’t a thing many will ever encounter, nor something one should ever worry about, but something that might make you say “hmm… neat” 😂
That being said this is a story of how I killed the unkillable, or I guess at least gave a KLR a heart transplant after complete cardiac arrest. The interesting journey of what happened, but I do not truly know how. So maybe some more seasoned KLR surgeons can offer additional insight into the how. I had considered breaking this up into the story and just the mechanical aspects for those not interested in the story, but the motivation here is the story and so that’s the read, enjoy 😀
About 8 months ago I bought a ‘09 KLR as my first bike. I’m an over the road truck driver and have always dreamed of putting a motorcycle on my rig, and decided at a fork in my life that it was time. It had 28k miles on it, amazing shape, very few mods, all ones that I considered valuable as I would have done them myself. Crash bars, metal skid plate, panniers with very nice Givi cases, Sargent seat, etc. The curious bit was a big bore up to 683. I did not ask what mileage it had been bored at or if it was done for maintenance reasons or just performance. In retrospect I would have asked these questions but that’s out of curiosity not because I believe to any degree the seller was misleading me. I do not believe they had any idea the events that followed would conspire and I accept them as just bad luck. What did follow is in the first 3 weeks I put nearly 900 miles on it and had only encountered a single issue which was the clutch slipping too easily under heavy acceleration. As one does with a KLR I had already ordered and done a slew of other personalization so I added new clutch plates and heavier springs to the list. Job went smoothly, the old clutch plates were worn but not to any degree that alone would warrant the slipping so the weak springs were the culprit as my research had strongly suggested. But new “performance” clutch plates sounded fun so I installed them as well 😀
This is where things get interesting. As some may know, on the right side of the engine there is an oil screen, a fine metal mesh that acts as a filter to catch larger particles. Definitely something to clean if you’re ever in there, as it’ll tend to have any gasket material and other manufacturing run off in it that over time could choke oil flow. In mine I found the expected gasket gunk, suggesting it had not been cleaned since birth but frighteningly I also found 2 mysterious metal pieces that appeared to be the greater part of a metal ring. Reference the 1st photo. They had been chewed up slightly suggesting they made their way through the engine less than smoothly but not catastrophically obviously as the motor ran fine with no signs of any problems. I spent the better part of the day digging through any and every resource I could find for an answer on what this ring could be and the further I dug the more and more confident I grew in my initial suspicions that it was a piston circlip… but this just didn’t make sense, how did it get there? How was it not more destroyed? How was the engine still running with zero indication of damage? The sun was setting and I had to be on the road in the morning so after weighing all the possibilities I decided to button it back up, hope for the best, and tell myself if it was fine before it’s fine now. As the alternative was tearing apart the engine which meant going back out on the road with no bike, and no idea where to even start weeks later when I returned. Of the many theories the one I convinced myself of was that this was indeed a piston circlip but not one from the current piston but from the original one. That the mechanic that had done the big bore had either snapped it when removing the original piston and it fell down in the engine to never be fished out, or maybe it had been the reason for the bore. 2 days later I get it out for the first time since the quick 5 mile test ride after putting it back together and my theory is proven wrong, violently. About 80 miles later I was enjoying the bite of the new clutch, accelerating hard through 50mph and bam instantly the rear wheel locks up. At this point I had just under 1000 miles under my belt on two wheels, no MSF completely self taught…. Holy shiet that was a bad thing nearly gone horrible. I don’t know how I had the muscle memory at that point to instinctively grab the clutch but I did fractions of a second before I went down, hard. As I coasted to a stop on what little shoulder there was my thoughts were “holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit….Ohhhhhhhhh it was a piston circlip” before I even stopped 😂😂😂 Sure enough I look back to a trail of oil behind me, dismount and out of the front of the block I see a very displeased connnecting rod peeking out. Well, there’s your problem. I took a gamble and initially I was feeling like I had lost, but after not getting taken out with the engine, I was pretty okay with the situation. I rolled the bike into a church parking lot a couple blocks down the road and helplessly called for ride after ride on Uber to no avail. I was states away from anyone I knew and too far from any civilization to find luck with any ride share or cab service. As it started to get dark the 6 mile hike back to my truck in Mx Boots was not a great outlook but I was out of options. Just as I had buttoned up what I could on the bike getting ready to start walking I noticed an older couple sit down on their porch enjoying what was, to anyone else, admittedly a very pleasant evening. I’m shy as hell and absolutely terrified of being imposing, especially when it’s a true need… but these boots were brand new, zero flex, damn near knee high… just from standing there I was on the fence of what would be worse, boots or socks. So I mustered up the will power to make my way to their front yard and explain that my motorcycle had broken down and that I had no way to get back to my truck to come back and get it, if they’d be willing to give me a ride I’d happily pay for the trouble. They happily obliged and were the nicest folks you could have met, asked me about my travels and wished me luck in getting it back together, wouldn’t even accept my money. They drop me off, I get my rig back over there and load up the bike. They waved me off from their porch and that was that. I know that bit doesn’t pertain to the mechanical endeavor but I wanted to share it as well as an appreciation of just how much generosity can change the outlook in things. I had bought this bike at a critical moment in my life, during a separation, unsure what direction I was going, and it by all means was my coping mechanism. Sitting there stranded, the adrenaline started to wear off and the dread and hopelessness started to develop… the 6 mile walk back, nothing by my thoughts torturing myself for the dumb decisions I made would have left me feeling defeated and lost. But instead I got to share a tiny bit of my story, that it was still chaos but I was… proud of myself for chasing after my dreams not letting it consume me. And it was because of that moment of pride that I had the fuel to tuck tail and accept my circumstance, that I had indeed known this was a possibility and that it was not the end of my journey, just a different path. I believe without that I would have easily accepted the loss and dropped the bike off at home to gather dust and that would have been the end of my motorcycling experience. But I was determined. So I spent every minute of free time I had researching what I needed to rebuild it, what it’d cost, how hard it’d be, and if it was even something I could do over the road. As I added things up it was indeed doable but it’d leave the bike out of commission at best for well over a month… and I had a fire under me to get back on it… so I started digging through marketplace, eBay, Craigslist, etc searching for doner bikes or full engines. Scrounging up every penny I had, I booked a load and made my way all the way to Kansas City where I had found a salvager with a 2009 with just 1300 miles on it that was willing to take $1300 for the whole engine if I’d help him pull it. My determination was unwavering. I showed up at his house as early as I could after my delivery, about noon. My semi truck left on the street where it clearly did not belong 😂 It was a two lane and the right lane was conveniently closed, so I moved some cones and it worked out perfectly but was still a funny sight. He gathered bikes from auctions and had them scattered around his yard, and so while he gathered some stuff he pointed me to two other KLRs to see if there was anything I wanted from them. Ended up pulling a full yoshimura exhaust from one that he tossed in for cheap. Before I had gotten there he had already stripped the most of the bike with the doner engine down so it took us a little under an hour to pull it. Yet another really positive experience that I’ll never forget, really nice older guy who genuinely enjoyed wrenching on the bike with me, not just trying to get it done and get paid. Offered me any small bits like the rubber tank picks that would easily get lost for no charge. And even gave me an old Milwaukee battery charger he had laying around as I had lost my charger at some point and my last battery died while we were working on it. We had it out by 2pm and I heaved the enormous hunk of steel into my chest high passenger floor board of my semi truck to be on my way. And by on my way I mean 7 miles away to a Walmart parking lot where I then unloaded my bike and started the transplant. I gathered my tools while waiting for a Milwaukee battery to charge, caught my breath, and started the operation around 3pm. I was definitely a bit of a spectacle. Not everyday you see someone doing an engine swap in a Walmart parking lot. The semi truck parked alongside definitely added a layer that invoked enough curiosity for people to inquire about what they were looking at as they passed by. I enjoyed the conversation and that sense of pride grew ever stronger as I worked through it. Early on in the process another rider had briefly stopped by and asked if I needed help, I declined understanding he was inquiring if it was an emergency not if I needed a wrenching buddy haha. Over the course of the next 4 hours he passed by another 2 times, giving a nod of approval at my progress. I was fired up. So excited to get it all done, feeling like I’d be too tired to do anything else but driven just to know it was ready to ride whenever I was. All and all it took about 5 hours to get done, a few stuck bolts there, a few how the hell does this come out there, and a good bit of how does one finagle this thing back in here by themselves(ps lay it on its side right side and just set the engine down into the frame, stand up and then align it) and it was done. I had done some mechanical work on cars and what not in the past but honestly changing the clutch on the previous motor was the most invasive thing I had done prior to this. But my confidence was in the clouds, and rightfully so, because while it took some convincing with the starter this stagnant motor awoke with not a cough or a sputter, but with an immediate healthy growl! My excitement was immeasurable and my little KLR, now much more aggressively singing through the Yoshimura exhaust, seemed just as excited as me. The sun had set, I was exhausted and against my recommendation they had already booked me a load picking up early the next morning. But I couldn’t not sing through the streets with joy, so a quick ride I told myself…. I was gone for hours, returning well past midnight. Ripping around Kansas City, sobbing with joy, with what felt like the loudest exhaust I’d ever heard 😂😂😂 A true menace, she was alive and god damnit I was too.
Exhaustion catching up with me I loaded my precious back on to the truck and realized I still had an entire engine to deal with. So I opened one of my side bins, at chest height just as the floor board was earlier in the day loading the new engine. If I didn’t look like a maniac riding around I certainly did trying to get that motor up and into the truck 😂 I was too happy to be upset or anything but it was just about all I could muster to get it up to that height after the day I had had. 2am and I’m screaming, crying, and laughing simultaneously as I blew out every single part of my body trying to get this absolute brick of an engine into the side bin. While I know at that point I was significantly more worn out I still find it very funny that my sheer will power made that new engine effortless to lift into the truck, but the old one was an inch shy of being impossible 😂 Over 7000 miles later and that new motor is still singing happily ❤️
So… the old motor… it rode around in my side bin for 7 months till last week I was at home and finally had the free time to unload it and crack it open. Motivated by the interest of pulling the new clutch plates and springs I had put in it that’d only have about 80 miles on them, and the curiosity of figuring out if the seemingly obvious cause for its demise was indeed due to the piston circlip… breaking? This is where any KLR surgeons may be able to chime in, if they made it this far xD Because I pulled the motor down to just about as many pieces as one could so I could take the bits that may be useful to have on the road with me and have the less likely to fail ones ready to go if I needed them at home, and all of the evidence seems to suggest that one of the circlips did indeed get ingested. The piston is definitely missing one of the circlips, and… the entire part that would house it lol. The broken pieces found in the oil screen visually match the remaining circlip, and I never found any parts of the circlip if those pieces in the oil screen were not it. So… I have full confidence the circlip did indeed end up in the oil screen. The fact that I found it was complete coincidence and had I not changed the clutch out it likely would have failed just as it did, meaning that circlip could have been there for… lord knows how long… which raises the questions, how did that happen? How long could it have feasibly been there? And was this just a ticking time bomb bound to happen without warning at any time or did maybe the stress of a more aggressive clutch bite upset it? And also just… how does this happen in the first place? Improper install or weak components? I know the kit they used is from Schnitz Racing and I was told 683 but I’ve never seen a 683 kit, only 685 so I would assume maybe that, regardless not cheap parts so, just a curiosity.
Final notes, the new engine with 27k less miles absolutely feels more powerful than the bored out one did, that’s seat of the pants and inexperienced rider mixed with intense emotions but I still to this day think it’s more peppy. Have not installed the new clutch on the new motor yet but I’m curious as hell as I don’t think I had enough experience to really appreciate the difference for the 80 miles I got to use it lol.
Oh and as a trinket to remember this entire experience and to show my KLR is on its second heart I polished up the blown piston and hung it on the tail ❤️
Thank you for coming to my TED talk, stay safe out there!

i don’t really expect anyone to read this. but i had to put it somewhere.
*she loved her treats. the ones right after getting her eyedrops in the morning but mostly at night. she loved to sniff around for cat food. she was always right there when dad was preparing dinner; chopping veggies was a calling for her. she loved tomatoes, potatoes, strawberries and pineapple. she was stubborn beyond belief. she always spat out spinach, and was tempted by the forbidden fruits of avocados and grapes but never tried them. i’ll miss all these things. her little snores and grunts. her constant barking at me when she wanted another meal, even if it was only 10 minutes after her last meal. she loved to go for walks and car rides. she loved judging people pass us by on our walks, especially dogs that she couldnt care less about. she was patient with our cats, even letting charlie lick her face after a messy dinner. she was their family.
she adored hikes and walks in the mountains. she loved dipping her toes in a cool mountain river. she loved being carried up steep hills and sniffing the leftover piss from dogs ahead of her. she was a shadow to me for 14 years and i’m always searching for her little clicks along the floor, with nails that probably needed to be trimmed (and would be at her next anal glad extraction) she smelled like corn chips and love. her ears had “mushrooms” growing inside them and made her stinky for a long time but we still loved her. she loved “gettin it” in her bed (or ours) after a much needed bath or after a delicious meal. she was always grumpin’ us with her upper lip tucked in. she’d run to the farthest corners of the backyard to potty and always came running up the hill as fast as she could. even in the end. even when things got hard and her breathing got bad and she had a chronic cough, she pushed herself to feel good and make the most of everyday. she knew she was loved.
she knew the oxygen chamber in the living room was there to make her feel better. she knew her pills she got every 8 hours and every 12 hours were to help her feel better. even when they became hard to give her towards the end. she had eyes like an angel. that was the first thing i noticed when i looked at her for the first time. big chestnuts in a perfectly tiny dome head. eyes of a creature i’d never imagined i would grow to love so much over the course of the weirdest years of my life. looking back to when we first met, it feels like a literal lifetime ago.
just about every aspect of my life is entirely different than it was back then. the only thing that stayed the same was that she was by my side. even those few years when she wasn’t technically my dog. we were drawn to one another and the universe gave us both the gift of being together forever. i remember thinking i should have kept her as my own so many times before it happened. and after those few chaotic and emotional years, we were finally together. just us.
until jared came along and fell in love with her. she loved him so much. felt safe in his presence and oftentimes wouldn’t even go to sleep unless he was in bed with us. she had such a routine with us. she was incredibly low maintenance and smart. never going potty in the house. never being naughty at all ( aside that time she stole my subway sandwich when i was in the other room) that’s probably the only time i was ever mad at her in my life! she wanted to sniff every tree. every rock. every lamppost, trash can and fire hydrant. she took her time with the little things and appreciated basking in the sun on a warm spring day. she loved the picnics we’d go on and the lunch dates at cheba hut and tasty harmony (always waiting for a tomato!) she was my little princess. she loved her stroller rides through various parks we took her to in fort collins.
everyone always gawked at her and could tell how loved she was (still is.) and now i search for her in everything. all the clouds in the sky look like shih tzus, which is hilarious and perfect to me. i’ve seen so many rainbows since the day she left me. more than i’ve seen in ages and i know they’re messages from my little pud, telling me she’s okay.
we went for a drive today to the canyon, she always loved going there with us. i brought her urn with us and asked her to give me a sign today. i saw a hummingbird when we were pulled over and i know that was my sign (even though skeeti hated birds) haha just kidding. we are planting a garden for her now. with lavender and columbine and strawberries. we will plant a tree for her soon. i carry her toy with me everywhere and sleep with it at night. (it rotates between the lamb chop, the crocodile and her pink bunny) they all smell like her.
i take her urn to bed with us every night. it’s wrapped in her tiny strawberry blanket i would lay on her back when it was chilly outside. especially after giving her a haircut, which she always hated until it was over. then she’d feel soooo good.
i want her to be as close to me as possible. and i have so many fears now that she’s not here, even though my biggest fear was losing her. now it’s that i’ll forget the little things, but how could i? luckily i took photos and videos of just about everything she ever did. and i’m so grateful for the memories i have of her. they’re all so wonderful aside from a few scary ones towards the end. she was so brave, my little thing. my tiny soldier. my best girl in the whole world.*
i miss my girl so much.
all these photos were taken after her heart failure/ pulmonary hypertension diagnosis. proof of how strong, happy and resilient she was during the hardest months of our lives.
today marks 10 days without her.