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In part two, Jeff had gotten the CB250 fired up again after an extensive engine rebuild and reassembly. There were a few odds and ends still left to tie up, though. The original grip still had to get wrestled off the old handlebars. During reassembly, I’d spent 20 minutes and cubic yards of compressed air trying to get the stubborn little bugger off of there without success. It took Jeff about as long again, but finally the vintage hand grips matched again.
The final pieces of the puzzle for the CB250 was a new rear sprocket, chain and rear tire. The bike was now as new as Jeff cared to make it — fresh in all the ways that matter. I wasn’t able to be there when it took its maiden voyage, but Jeff told me later that he was very pleased with how far the little bike had come. Just as he’d hoped, it turned out to be the perfect little street attack bike and with a couple tweaks to the points, it was ready for commute duty.
This CB250 has come a long way — all the way from Canada, actually. When Wayne rode this little white and gold growler down from the great white north, his trip hadn’t gone as planned. He didn’t get the girl. He didn’t even get to keep his bike. That’s rough. Wherever he is now though, I hope that Wayne is still a romantic. I hope his mishap on this cheery little machine didn’t put him off love or motorcycles permanently. But even if Wayne never found his new life in the Twin Cities, at least his motorcycle did. Keep your eyes open in St. Paul. You just might see Jeff bombing around on it, which looks something like this:
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