The Project Bike

Paul and I left for Bellefonte and a late breakfast on one of the balmy days last week.  No better way to burn a half day's vacation time from work. A BMW K1200 GT is an unlikely pairing with a Vespa -- I've witnessed demonstrations of the power advantage of the BMW as it fled from the scooter at a pace I could never hope to match.

During breakfast I was reminded of project bikes when an old neighbor and her daughter stopped by our table.  Her son, Cooper, has a project going in their basement with his Honda motorcycle completely dismantled and awaiting reassembly.  Cooper, if you read this, pay no attention to your sister's predictions that it will never run again.  She just doesn't understand the spiritual power of the mechanical journey you've undertaken.

That brings me to my own thoughts of a project bike.  A couple weeks ago I received an email from Paul instructing me to clear out the garage and gather some cash -- he found the perfect project bike for us -- a 1989 URAL.

After breakfast we paid a visit to the the machine in question.  As I neared I could feel my wallet try to leap from my pocket.  The smell of sulfur floated in the air as a cloud passed over the sun.  There, under a roof next to a garage sat the URAL.  Sat might be too strong.  There it existed might be better.

The registration tag on the license plate indicated 2005 as the last legal time it was on the road.  The earth was slowly absorbing the URAL and a sense of sadness permeated the air.  The odometer showed less than 2000 miles and was explained by the owner as resulting from problems with the bike when it was new and the dealer setting it up improperly.  Those actions led to the repeated fouling of sparkplugs at the 60 mile mark and he eventually grew tired of replacing them and of the URAL in general that he parked it and walked away.  That's 2000 miles in 16 years.  Sweet.

Mechanical projects called to me despite the general hatred I have for machines.  The puzzle, the challenge,  some hard to describe experience sings out and I feel vulnerable to bad decision making.  Experience has proved over and over that they are black holes for cash, money, and spirit.  And they likely will never be completed.  In my head plays a film of my construction of a dune buggy on a custom chassis utilizing an engine from a 1963 Corvair Spyder.  With thousands of dollars invested when I left for college by mother sold it to someone for $300 while I was away -- less than the price of the headers I put on the engine.

And there's the 1949 Willys Jeep pickup truck that my father and I completely dismantled and sandblasted with loving care.  The engine to a speed shop to be rebuilt, time and sweat and cash invested only to turn it over, unfinished, to the buyer when he sold his farm.

Staring at the black URAL I could see myself cleaning out the garage, organizing my tools for an assault, preparing for a mechanical siege worthy of at least two write-ups at GarageJournal.com. I could feel my head being pulled closer and closer to the engine by URAL forces, vision dimming, reason evaporating, Paul dancing a jig, the seller dangling the $1200 price tag in my face...

And then a flame flickered inside me, a soft voice slowly rose in my mind speaking clearly, "Ride, son, ride.  Don't clean, don't dismantle, fix or modify.  Abandon the search for parts, the need to weld or paint or modify.  Ride, and ride again.  Waste not a minute of your life on such a project..."

And so it has passed.  The URAL awaits another rider.

Becoming a URAL Adventurer

The 2012 URAL Patrol is a perfect drug for my addictive desire to explore.  With hand over my heart, I believe this thing will go anywhere I want to go and not lead to my untimely demise in the process. This conclusion was derived after 200 kilometers of experimentation on the road and some hours of mental gymnastics with my backside firmly ensconced in a big easy chair.

For those reading this review who have never ridden a motorcycle with a sidecar but plan to try one out in the future I offer these words of advice -- give it some time.  It's not what you expect and it's not a motorcycle.

The first day of riding consisted mostly of getting a feel for the machine on the road -- gaining asense of how wide it is so I didn't run the rig into a post or have it drop off the side of the road into a drainage hole.  With ample open roads around I had a lot of good practice routes.

One of the first things I noticed is that I would spans ditches along the side of the road or navigate uneven surfaces without trouble.  The motorcycle and sidecar wheel are far enough apart that I could negotiate obstacles or run through them without fear of falling or getting stuck.

 Last Sunday morning I left early to determine how well the URAL would perform on the endless miles of gravel roads in the Pennsylvania forests and what kind of gaps existed between the motorcycle and my riding skills.  This picture was made after about 10 miles of gravel.  Two things surfaced -- first, I felt a bit anxious when the URAL drifted left on uneven stretches of road or when the traction differences between loose gravel and hard packed gravel would cause the machine to move one direction or the other.

A motorcycle without a sidecar feels fluid and moves along a line in a relatively smooth and easy manner compared to the URAL.  The sidecar rig tends to move back and forth, at least it feels as if it is moving back and forth on the road controlled by unknown forces for unknown reasons.  Because of this I kept my speed to 25 to 40 mph depending on specific road conditions.

After 20 miles of gravel roads I had to stop for mental reasons.  I needed some time to process what was going on with the machine.  I wanted to understand the forces at work and allow myself the chance to drop into a more intuitive riding experience.

Physically the machine was extremely comfortable.  After six hours on the road I found no issues at all with the seat or riding position.  

Through the power of photography I was able to diminish the size of the URAL.  Through a few minutes of relaxation and a couple of chugs of water I did the same things mentally.

Looking the machine over you can't help but notice the relative simplicity of construction compared to almost any other modern motorcycle.  The speedometer provided indicated speed, odometer, trip odometer and a couple indicator lights --nothing fancy at all.  Add to that a four speed transmission, electric start, front disc brake and a reverse gear and you've pretty much summed up the available technology as far as I was concerned.

And there is a kick starter too.  Didn't try it but would be nice to know there was some chance of moving on should the battery or starter die.  And there is a nice URAL tool kit in the trunk along with a spare tire.  And the carburated motorcycle was of simple enough design that it appeared entirely possible that a rider could learn to do some real roadside service.  No computers or sophisticated technology necessary to keep this machine running.

The URAL had no trouble running up and down the mountain roads and with each mile my comfort level grew that I would not suddenly burst over the edge of the road and on into oblivion.  I could see myself riding up here in the snow.  This URAL is a 2WD version which means the wheel on the sidecar has power when you want it -- just engage a level and you're in business.  A fine winter time feature.

Amidst the riding and familiarization process I kept noticing how much I like this vintage look.  Along with the vintage look though comes some vintage processes.

Not wanting the URAL to roll down the road and over the cliff if the thing popped out of gear.  I learned later that the rig has a parking brake but I opted for the tried and true rock behind the wheel solution.

I'm clever that way.

Looking at the mufflers in the picture I want to say the URAL makes a wonderful sound.  Not too loud but definitely a barrel chested rumble that inspires some confidence that the engine can deliver what you need in terms of torque.

Forest roads around here are often no more than glorified jeep trails kept open to allow fire control vehicles into areas in an emergency.  They're not very wide and steeped than they look.  I descended this one with care trying to decide where to put the motorcycle wheel to provide the most stable line possible.  Any sudden veer or swerve could have me riding in places I wouldn't want to ride.

After 30 miles of gravel I felt pretty comfortable with the changing surface, the response of the URAL, and my growing abilities in regard to throttle, steering, braking and shifting inputs.  Riding a URAL is like a dance and you need to know all the moves.  You can get away with some sloppy things on a motorcycle but on this rig it really helps to expand your skills.

I was able to spend more time looking at the landscape and exploring with the camera as the URAL and I came to terms.

So many beautiful places to ride.  A stop for a picture, a slurp or two of water, and a bite of a ham and cheese sandwich, all stored nicely in the sidecar.

The only pain related to this ride came while making this picture.  Picking my way up through the rocks I keep twisting my ankle in the loose rocks that lined this dry run.  It's a picture I will only make in the cold weather.  On warmer days I would have to spend too much time looking for rattlesnakes.

By the time I hit pavement I felt like an enthusiastic amateur URAL Patrol pilot.  The rig feels amazingly stable after nearly forty miles of gravel roads.  For anyone acquiring one of these I highly recommend some gravel riding to hone your skills.

Since the URAL doesn't have a fuel gauge and I didn't take the time to figure out how much fuel it carries I pointed the bike to the closest fuel stop.  I thought it appropriate that the place had a certain central Siberian feel to it.

While here a had the first of a few people approach me to ask questions about the URAL.  "How old is it?" and "That's a beautiful motorcycle." were the most common comments.  Spend anytime with one of these and you'll meet a lot of people.

The 749cc, 40 horsepower engine is plenty of power to push the URAL along secondary roads but if you think you're going to love touring along on the freeway things again.  This bike was designed before freeways were common.  The engine and transmission setup will have you straining to cruise at 60mph.  It's bred for winding twisting backroads in all weathers and conditions.  It's for adventure, not for traveling at 80mph all day long on the superslab.

I had to stop at my friend Dan's house.  I'm no longer allow to pass through his county without paying a visit.  The rig looked nice in his driveway looking off towards his barn.  He says it's 700 yards away and the green grass strip serves as a driving range for he and his son.  He thought the URAL had a lot in common with his Kuboda tractor.  Must be the color scheme.

There's something neat about being able to bomb down the road and just pull over and not worry much about the condition of the berm.  The URAL is like a tractor in the regard.  Just do it. And if you sink in somewhere or get stuck -- engage that extra drive wheel.

The URAL is so stylish in its un-stylishness.  And those shocks make it seem even more tank like.

One of my last side trips into a Siberian landscape, or at least as close as I could get on this day.  The rig is all about transportation, getting from here to there, and not allowing much to stand in your way.

Later in the evening I decided to take the URAL to the grocery store -- a chance to ride through town and a chance to test further its utilitarian capabilities.  I rode back and forth through State College through streets and alleys finding people pointing and waving.

Fun.  It has some pure fun possibilities.

Discovered a couple things at the grocery store.  First, the URAL had no trouble hauling $300 worth of groceries.  The sidecar is huge and there is a locking trunk at the back.  Didn't even need to strap anything onto the rack over the spare tire.  I could have easily carried another $150 worth of food.

Or a couple pigs or a goat.

And by the time I left it was dark.  The URAL has a nice big profile and is pretty well lit up.  Certainly more visible than my Vespa.  It was sad to take the keys out of it when I got home.

 

It was raining when I took the URAL back to Kissell Motorsports.  I tried a few times to get the rig to slide or spin on the wet pavement but it just kept tracking along without a care.  As the weather grows worse and we find some snow on the ground I'll have to talk to Craig Kissell about some further experimentation.

I can see why a lot of riders swear by these rigs.  They're a collection of traits and character that is unique in the motorcycle world.  I found myself thinking about the URAL all week.  Wondering where I could go and little concerned with the weather.  Or at least not as concerned as I am on the Vespa.

It's definitely not for everyone and in my case an acquired taste.  And something you have to try out.  Kissell Motorsports is going to keep this one as a demo bike.  Pay them a visit and try it out.  You never know if you might be cut out to be a URAL Adventurer...

Surrender to the URAL

Craig Kissell sent me an email this week:  "I have a new URAL ready for you to try."  His messages are always short and to the point. When I arrived at Kissell Motorsports this morning the URAL was glowing in the sunshine as Craig checked me out on the machine making sure I knew where the reverse lever was, the lever to engage 2WD (it has the option to have power to the sidecar wheel), chokes -- basically all the things a modern Vespa rider doesn't have to worry about.

I've been thinking about the URAL all week wondering how a brand new one would compare to the short ride I made on one last spring in Colorado courtesy of Redleg's Ride author Dom Chang.  And it certainly had to be superior to the MP3 sidecar rig I rode last year.

The weather got cold this week and snow was in the air, all of which fueled plenty of adventurous fantasy of grinding through the elements in the URAL as the central Pennsylvania landscape transformed in my mind to central Siberia with me and the machine against the world.  As I put the license plate on the rig I try not to drool on the fender.

The URAL engenders a strange form of riding excitement.

Task and chore and all things adult  would force riding to a meandering trip home, just enough miles to adapt to the big difference between a scooter or motorcycle and a tug with a sidecar.  Even with a brand new Brembo disc brake up front and two drum brakes on the back I didn't expect much in the way of stopping power.

I'm here to report that this URAL pleasantly surprised me in the braking department.  While demonstrating nothing like the stopping power of a modern motorcycle it does stop when you ask it to.  Just give yourself more distance to make it happen.

Under blue skies and warming air I wandered about testing the brakes and other important control characteristics of the rig before venturing off on a longer ride tomorrow morning.  The URAL had me by this point, I'm lying in the road to make this picture, dreaming of conquering wind and rain, snow and ice, adversity and misfortune astride a URAL.

I can't figure it out yet but this odd rig triggers some instinctual drive to persevere and stubbornly resist failure.  Weird.  Must be me.

The URAL is kind of dazzling with its orange paint job.  I received more looks and waves today than any machine I have ever ridden.  One little girl in the back of a minivan seemed to lose her mind as she frantically tried to get everyone else to crane their necks to see the sight, seemingly something to her as miraculous as seeing Santa Claus.

On my way into Boalsburg I extended my hand to acknowledge an approaching, fully loaded, BMW R1200 GS only to see the return signal not the casual wave many riders engage but a full gusto laden thumbs up.


The URAL attracts attention.

Parked along Main Street in Boalsburg the URAL looks oddly at home in front of Duffy's Tavern.  More commonly one would see a string of Harley's here but at this time of year it's more likely my Vespa.  Or a URAL.

The URAL is sitting in the driveway while I type this note.  Junior is nosing around, angling to some tennis ball action but I'm thinking I need to go for another little ride as the sun goes down.

I need to surrender to the URAL.