The advice I was given is counter to this, that working in gradually larger circles around home until the bugs are gone is a good thing to do.

I got the shovel out for a ride Saturday. Leaked oil and gas.  The oil leak turned out to be a poor job tightening a braided oil line I installed to replace the tubing on the rear cylinder oiler. It may have been finger tight. The hilarious thing is that I had pretty much decided that finding the leak was going to be some mysterious process of working until I found the leak, which seemed pretty unlikely. I really didn’t want to remove the primary setup again as it seems to be otherwise good.  And the oil seemed to be everywhere, on both sides. I think it wound up on the left side only when parked, as it was coming from the right side. The fuel leak is a float valve issue, which also affected the intake and flooded it pretty bad at idle.

Rather than try to fix it right away, I let it bleed oil onto my driveway while I took the training wheels off my four year old’s bike and watched him quickly get into being a free rider of confidence and power.

I’ve been reading Pirsig’s Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, which I haven’t looked at in years. Pirsig spends some time in the book differentiating between classic and romantic thinking. Classic seeks to reach understanding by cataloging and defining parts and relationships in a system. Romantic thinking is largely “inspirational, imaginative, creative, intuitive.” What I’ve learned to understand as right- versus left-brain thinking.

I realized that the position I was seeing the oil leak from was the romantic. Shifting over to a place where the leak was identifiable made the process much different, and quickly solved.  Next, on to the carburetor.