Bike in the blood
My dad rides. His dad rode. In 2005, suddenly, I wanted to ride. I learned about bikes. I took a basic training course. I even knew how I wanted to cut my teeth (250cc Honda Rebel). I was ready to get my own rig.
I wound up buying a house instead.
Dude, check out these Russian motorcycles
Fast forward past some home improvement, to 2006, when a buddy sent me an email about these Russian sidecar motorcycles he’d heard about. I checked out the site. I was hooked on Urals.
Isn’t “Ural motorcycle” just another way to say “Russian paperweight?”
That was the question. More research followed (I’m kinda bookish) my initial feeling of addiction to Ural motorcycles. And, to be honest, that research was a little deflating. At first.
Unreliable. Clunky. Old Soviet-copy-of-a-German-1930s-BMW technology. And did I mention unreliable?
I saw this over and over again… but then also noticed the caveat. And noticed that the caveat kept cropping up over and over again too.
When Urals hit the U.S. market in the 1990s, yes, there were reliability issues. It was nothing that the wrench-endowed couldn’t handle, and even get to love, but it was a little unsettling for someone like me, who isn’t the most mechanically minded person around. But the caveat was this: every year, the concerns about unreliability lessened. Designs were tweaked; parts were improved (and in most cases, outsourced to some of the top names in the industry).
Once the 2005 model year hit, “give it a full wrenchover before firing her up” became more and more, almost bittersweetly, “it’s dang near gas-n’-go.”
Dang, that paperweight can go!
Suddenly, things were less daunting. Opinion was sounding more and more that indeed, the Ural was becoming more and more reliable out of the factory (though still, and hopefully always, with some, ahem, lovable quirks). Then 2006 came, and performance improved even more.
Then 2007 hit, and with that model Ural really turned a corner.
If I was going to get a Ural, I was going to get a 2007. Or was I?
Can I ride one… and will I like it?
A lot more knuckle-biting followed the research. Then, in July 2007, I took Vernon Wade’s Adventure Sidecar Training Course, held in Hood River, Oregon.
I was feeling pretty certain that I wanted a Ural, but not entirely convinced. After all, I still had just shy of zero riding experience. So when I signed up, I made an agreement with myself:
If I do well (pass) the class, and enjoy riding the sidecar bike, then I would get one.
I passed. I enjoyed.
I ordered my bike.
ImPatiently waiting
It’s February 4, 2008 as I write this, and my 2007 Ural Patrol should be arriving anytime in the next, oh, any day now. I’ve gotten gear and cleared space in the garage. My fiancee, Jodie, is as excited as I am, and our dog, Ella, has no idea yet how much fun she’s going to have a hack hound.
I’m getting a Ural because I need a bike — it’s in my blood. And this bike, especially, is in my blood. We’re looking forward to years of riding around the backroads (and dirt roads) of Oregon, our home. Heck, I’m even looking forward to learning how to take care of a motorcycle.
Getting a Ural sidecar motorcycle is going to be one of the best things I’ve ever done. We’ve made the right decision, and will be getting a solid bike that will require far less swearing that Urals of years gone by.
But then again, I enjoy swearing too.
