Piston Accelerator (2)

To illustrate how high these forces may sometimes be, let's use as an example the Yamaha TD-2, using 11,000 rpm for N. The formula tells us that at that speed, maximum piston acceleration will be (with the answer rounded off by my slide rule; I'm too lazy to do it all with paper and pencil) no less than 135,000 ft/sec2. Now if you will recall for a moment that the acceleration of gravity is only 32 ft/sec2, it will be clear that the load on the Yamaha's pistons - and thus on its rings - is very high indeed. But is the loading high enough to make the Yamaha's rings flutter? Obviously, it is not, as the engine remains not only reliable but crisp in comparatively long races. The limit, for the TD-2 engine, is slightly higher than 135,000 ft/sec2 - but not much higher, as you will see in the following table listing ring thicknesses and the accelerations at which they begin to flutter.

For rings having a
0.125 -inch thickness, 40,000 ft/sec2
0.094 -inch thickness, 53,000 ft/sec2
0.063 -inch thickness, 80,000 ft/sec2
0.047 -inch thickness,106,000 ft/sec2
0.039 -inch thickness,138,000 ft/sec2

The Yamaha, with rings having a thickness of 1mm, or 0.039-inch, and a maximum piston acceleration of 135,000 ft/sec2 at 11,000 rpm, would seem to be operating very near the limit - as indeed it is. But it probably is not quite as near the limit as the numbers suggest, for a racing ring (with its exaggerated thickness/width cross-sectional aspect) is somewhat less subject to flutter than a ring made for application in a touring engine. Still, the numbers given are fairly close for rings with normal-range proportions, and if you have an engine with rings for which Butter is predicted at 80,000 ft/sec2 and intend using crankshaft speeds that would raise maximum piston acceleration to something more like 100,000 ft/sec2, then I strongly urge you to fit new pistons with thinner rings. You may interpolate between the figures given to find the safe acceleration levels for ring thicknesses not listed.There are piston rings that resist very strongly piston acceleration's efforts toward making them flutter. The best known of these is the Dykes-pattern ring, which has an L-shaped cross-section and fits into a similarly-shaped groove in the piston. The Dykes ring is made flutter-resistant by the fact that its horizontal leg fits quite closely in its groove, as compared to clearances around the vertical leg, and therefore even if acceleration lifts the ring it cannot lift high enough to close off the pressure behind the ring's vertical leg. In consequence, the ring's sealing abilities are maintained at accelerations that would be the undoing of rings in the conventional rectangular-section pattern. However, the Dykes ring's ability to maintain a seal does not free it of all the unpleasantness attending too-high piston acceleration: while it may seal under those

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conditions, it is still being rattled about vigorously and if the rattling continues long enough, the Dykes ring, and the groove trying to restrain it, both become badly battered. At that point, its ability to seal vanishes and mechanical failure of the ring, piston, or both, follows very closely. Bultaco has long used Dykes-pattern rings, as have certain others, but most manufacturers prefer rings that do not require such careful and intricate machining. There are other flutter-resistant rings, and many excellent reasons for using rings of conventional configuration, but these details are discussed elsewhere in this book and in greater depth than would be appropriate here.
After establishing all these mechanical limits, with regard to piston speed and acceleration, and after deciding how much power you are likely to get from a particular engine, you should subject the engine to a complete survey. This would include the measuring of port heights and widths, combustion chamber and crankcase volumes, and charting piston travel against crank rotation. This last effort may at first seem rather pointless, but as your work progresses you will find that the chart, which will show almost but not quite a sine curve, provides an instant readout between degrees at the crankshaft and the position of the piston from top center that is most useful. It will tell you, for example, how much to raise the top edge of an exhaust port to make a given change in timing, and how much to trim from the piston skirt (in a piston-port engine) to get the intake period you want-or think you want. The chart also will provide you with all the mean port-open points, and it will provide an exceedingly useful relationship between ignition timing expressed in degrees and in piston travel from top center. You may devise your own methods for deriving all this information according to your preference and resources; I have explained my own techniques elsewhere in this text, in the appropriate chapters.
An item that must be included in any discussion of the two-stroke cycle engine's basics is general gas dynamics. You can get information on the subject at your local library, but the applicable particulars are likely to be widely scattered there, so I will cover the subject in brief here. The manner in which what follows applies at specific points throughout the engine and its related plumbing will be covered later, but you should know a few of the fundamentals now and thus save me from becoming unnecessarily repetitious later.
One thing you must know, for example, is that the air moving through the engine, a mixture of gases, has many of the properties of a fluid. It even has the ability to “wet” a surface, and has viscosity, which means that air will cling to all surfaces within an engine in a layer that moves hardly at all no matter what the midstream velocity may be. This boundary layer's depth is influenced by gas temperature, and by the temperature of the surface on which it forms, as well as by the shape of the surface. Please understand that the layer is not solid; it is “shearing” with general flow throughout its depth – which may be as much as 0.100-inch - with movement increasing as to distance from the surface on which it is formed. And as close as 0.020-inch from the surface, flow may still be in the order of 80-percent of that in midstream, which means that the restriction formed by the boundary layer is not very great. Nonetheless, it is there, and it accounts for such things as round ports having less resistance to flow than square ports, area for area, and for the ability of a single port to match the flow of a pair of ports of somewhat larger area. It also accounts for the fact that flow resistance increases in direct proportion with the length of a port, and much of the resistance resulting from the shape of a particular port is due to that shape's creating a thick boundary layer, which becomes literally a plug inside the port.
Generally speaking, boundary layers will be held to minimum depth on surfaces that “rise” (relative to the direction of flow) and gain in thickness on any surface that falls away. Thus, an intake trumpet, for example, should be tapered in slightly from the inlet end to the carburetor-by perhaps 2-3 degrees - in the interest of holding boundary layer thickness to a minimum. In that configuration, it will have appreciably less resistance to flow than a straight, parallel-wall tube. Similarly, transfer ports should diminish in cross-sectional area from their entrance in the crankcase toward their outlet in the cylinder.
These gases also have inertia: once set in motion they tend to remain in motion; when at rest they resist all efforts to get them moving. In practice, this means that there always is a lag between the intake port's opening and the movement of air in the intake tract. Fortunately, this lag can be amply compensated toward the end of the intake period, when the pressure inside the crankcase has risen to a level that should push part of the charge back out the port-but cannot because of the effect of inertia on the incoming gases. Inertia also has its effect on the flow of gases through the transfer ports and out the exhaust system, but I will deal with that while treating those subjects separately.
These inertia effects are useful, but difficult to manage as something apart from other processes occurring as the engine runs. For example, intake tract length usually is established more with an eye toward resonances than inertia, and its diameter set by the flow rate required by the carburetor to meter properly - balanced against the resistance that attends high gas velocities. Therefore, virtually the only thing we can do about inertia effects is to attempt to find the intake timing that will make maximum use of those provided by an intake system proportioned mostly to suit other requirements.
Resonances are another matter. Sound waves will travel through any elastic medium, such as air, and in their passage they pull together or force apart molecules, just as the similar energy waves traveling through the ocean pull the water into peaks and troughs on its surface. And, as in the ocean, the waves move steadily onward away from their source but the transmitting medium does not. Take, for example, the activity surrounding a single condensation, or positive-pressure wave, as it moves through the air. In its center, molecules have been pulled together, condensed, but as it travels it releases those molecules and compresses others as it reaches them. In the same manner, a rarefaction, or negative-pressure wave, pushes molecules apart. Both waves behave in a curious, but useful way when confined in a tube and the effects of inertia are mixed with them. For one thing, they will be reflected back when reaching the end of the tube - whether that end is open or closed. But at the tube's open end, the wave changes in sign: a condensation is inverted and becomes a rarefaction, and vice versa; at the closed end, the wave will be reflected, but retains its sign.
How is all that useful? For example, in the intake system the opening of the intake port exposes the crankcase end of the tract to a partial vacuum, and that in turn sends a rarefaction shooting off toward the opposite, atmospheric, end of the tract. It travels out to the intake bell, inverts in sign to become a condensation, and instantly moves back toward the crankcase - to arrive there as a clump of compressed molecules, which surge into the crankcase to be trapped, if the piston then closes the intake port, as part of the scavenging charge. That effect, over-layed with inertia in the inrushing gases, makes all the difference in getting the job of charging done in two-stroke engines – which provide only an absurdly short time for such chores.