My only regret is
I didn't take the rail and slice it into pieces and see exactly what was going on inside. I didn't have to worry about the reputation of the shop or its employee either. When you live somewhere for a decade or five you know the reputations of people. Ergo, I didn't have to check on what they were doing or do the "were those parts really necessary, let me see 'em" thing.
My next door neighbor--only 2 mi. away--makes his living in high performance motorcycles, waterski things, and has a dyno for bikes and cars. He has been listening to me do this job, knowing I want to do it myself. Therefore he offered to help, but I declined. A week or so ago I told him that I was about to take all the injectors, get 'em all done, cleaned and spray tested. He then told me that I was not to drive the Ex. home. He told me to go to this shop, tell 'em C. R. sent me and stop messing around. CR told me that I was overthinking it. CR said, "This problem is as plain as the nose on your face. Do not spend this money. You go here, ask 'em to help, and leave. I did. They did it.
In the future, I must find out what about the rail was such that a frugal country mechanic would not want to fix it 'cuz it is cheaper to replace? And why didn't I see it? Or better yet, did I crunch the thing while lifting? Or, since I never really ran the EX, was it always bad? Inquiring mind, when I had one, would want to know.
