Cheap Chinese Scooter: Rise, Lazarus

Having only ever operated fuel injected cars, I've never even touched a carburetor in my life. Given this, I was in rather a large need of education. Thank heaven for the Internet, or I would have had to go to a library or find a mechanic as he unnecessarily dumbs everything down with a condescending tone. With the Incredible Edible Internet, people who share a common interest, but are scattered across the globe, can finally communicate and share ideas, furthering their pursuit of knowledge. If you've always wanted to recreate Star Wars, Episode 5 on roller skates, you can find the other thirty people who also want to do that.

So of course there are a gaggle of videos, diagrams, and tutorials regarding the assembly, installation, and maintenance of the carburetor on a cheap Chinese scooter from a manufacturer I've never heard of.

A quick trip to the local generic auto-parts chain put me in possession of a can of carburetor cleaner. And some WD-40 (never know, right?). And some bottles of fuel treatment (liquid repair-kit for my car's old injectors). A pair of needle-nose pliers (I broke the ones I had the other day), some wire strippers (never had any before), and you can honestly never have enough screwdrivers. Guess it's a good thing I got out of there when I did. I might have ended up with the wild idea to put a turbo onto this little scoot.

All the guides I saw approaching the carb said, "Open the seat and remove these three screws. Then remove the storage compartment to reveal the engine."

But the compartment is locked. And I don't have the key. Another approach must be found.

From the rear wheel well, I can spy the carburetor, but only just. The gray side trim panels are secured by three screws and a bolt. These were easily taken off to reveal more of the workings, including the tumbler for the seat lock (but another day for that, as it turned out). From the left side, the carb was pretty well blocked by the air intake assembly, but the view from the right was more telling.

The tube from the air filter to the carburetor had come off somwhere. If that had happened when it was previously in service, it would certainly explain the poor carb performance. Regardless, with this nugget I wondered if I would have to remove the carb at all.

Given the partial disassembly, I pulled the whole air filter assembly off the frame. Turns out that using a hose clamp to secure hard plastic to metal (or other hard plastic, for that matter) doesn't work too well. Really more of an application suited to rubber hoses. But some twisting and yanking had me an exposed carburetor.

So now for spraying. Straightforward, really. Instructions on the can. Why can't more things be this simple? Or rather, why don't more people read the instructions on the can?

Liberal applications of spray later, I sat torn with how long to wait. I checked my phone a few times, made a sandwich, paid a bill (highway robbery!), re-read the instructions on the can, and counted my screwdrivers.

Then I got impatient and tried kickstarting. After a few kicks, I was rewarded with the glorious pop-pop-pop of a single cylinder trying to fire! This was more than encouraging. Several more kicks saw no further progress, so I guessed that the cleaner hadn't finished its work. The can did say "highly flamable," so maybe it could help with combustion?

I blasted the carb a few more times, then tried to turn the engine again. I was thinking that the vacuum pressure of the intake stroke could help force the cleaner through the itty-bitty holes for the jets in the carb. Hey, worst-case scenario, it doesn't work and I take the carb apart, right?

But that wasn't necessary. A few more pumps, and the engine coughed into life. I knew what I had to do next.

Yup. I rode it around the parking lot with all that stuff still disassembled. Not the best idea, but worth it.

There's not much gas in the tank, so I'll have to be careful with use until I can get past the locking gas cap. I probably won't detail how to get through that.