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Story: By Brian Halton When I rode down to meet Ski Jablonski and check out his Ural dealership in San Jose I was pleasantly surprised to find how good looking the place was and more importantly how good looking the Ural sidecars were. I had only been there a short time when a man and woman entered the showroom and I immediately did what I have done countless times when visiting a dealership and what appears to be a serious buyer appears---I walked away. Business is business... But not that far away as to not be able to overhear what was taking place. The man was Russian or Russian/American and his companion, a blond woman of similar age, also seemed to have a bit of an accent. Selling a Russian made motorcycle and sidecar to a Russian/American has to be a piece of cake I thought. A little bit of the 'old country' to keep them not feeling too guilty about being here in the land of milk and honey, raking in the big ruples. I listened to Ski explain some of the Ural features while I watched on the television screen in the showroom, a film showing a couple of crusty looking dudes flying down the road in some far off, God forsaken terrain which could very easily have been Russia and they threw that rig sideways again and again through the sloppy mud puddles and greasy, muddy jeep road. And of course the guy in the monkey's chair has got a burp gun mounted on the thing...heh...heh. Sometimes life is just too ridiculous for words.... But as I listened to their tale I got some specific insights into exactly why they were seriously considering purchasing a Ural three-wheeler, besides Russian patriotism that is. It seems for some time he had been wanting a motorcycle badly. Not for sport riding it turns out, but for commuting. He commutes each day around 25 miles I believe I heard and he was envious of the bike riders who passed him each morning and evening in the diamond lanes. She would have none of it he explained nodding at his wife. There was a mention of a ten-year-old son as well. Little Uri. She thought motorcycles were dangerous and just KNEW that if he got one he would be one of those riders who rode between the lanes on their motorcycles. That really scares her, she admitted. Plus they had a child as well. And so they appeared to be considering a compromise. She walked around the red Ural with a smile. It obviously would NOT be able to wedge between a couple of Ford Explorers and it was obvious, even to a woman with little technical knowledge that this machine was not designed for high speed. In fact it appears to have come out of the past. Their shared Russian past... Now they had been there about thirty-five minutes by then (the ideal amount of time in my limited knowledge of selling) when they totally committed. She whipped out her credit card and bought the rig for her hubby as easily and as happily as if she had just picked up a new Donna Karan handbag. He looked like a child on Christmas morning and ducked outside for a quick smoke, non-filtered of course. Probably would have had a shot of vodka as well if one was offered. Ski rolled the machine out of the showroom, finished the paper work and then offered his new customer a demo ride. Now this is where sidecar purchasing gets interesting. A sidecar is a somewhat complex machine to master, it would seem. Although it is stable-looking and low to the ground like it should be, one of the first things the pilot must understand is that making a right hand turn is entirely different than making a left hand turn. Luckily the two returned from their ride to the local parking lot intact and the man informed that he had indeed operated a sidecar in the past as a young lad in Russia and much of what he learned then was coming back. So off they went, the missus in the car, the hubby in the brand new red Ural three-wheeler. Ready for this? Out the door price was less than ten grand. And you know what else? The rig qualifies as a motorcycle and therefore can be ridden in the diamond lane. The man now has his commute machine and can stop by the grocery store and load up on grub on his way home. The storage in the car is significant. Looking more closely at the other machines in Ski's showroom I tried to ask intelligent questions. Does anyone ever detach the sidecar and run the bike solo? No, I was told, or only very rarely. In fact, the one model that Ural makes that detaches reasonably easy is slated to be discontinued. One of the many reasons is that the tires square off in a hurry. Ever ride a motorcycle with squared off tires? Quite thrilling in a terrifying sort of way. Is there a reverse I asked. Yes there most certainly is a reverse. How is it on the freeway? Well, frankly I was told, it really isn't meant for the freeway. And I was told this over and over again as I met with happy Ural owners. Sure our recent customer will do just fine on his twenty-five mile commute each day back and forth from Sunnyvale to San Jose. Traffic on highway 101 rarely hits 60 mph on the best of commute days. But to take a ride on a sidecar, thing only get pleasurable when you choose a rural route on a winding two lane road, and if you must commute or haul things, you can easily learn the alternate routes to Costco rather than hitting the turnpike again and again. No, the Ural is old tech and should be regarded as such. It is like buying a 1956 Chevrolet convertible or a shall I compare it---a big, heavy Harley Davidson bagger? It stops, it turns, it turns heads, just don't wick it up if you want to have fun. You want to do the potato, potato, potato. And so armed with this new found information I said adieu to Mr and Mrs. Jablonski and went out in search of actual Ural owners, camera in hand. That would be Mike Bacon of Berkeley.A life long enthusiast and member of the East Bay Rats, Mike explained as we prepared to ride up to "The Wall". "I recently bought a 2005 Ural 750 with sidecar. Mainly because my dog Mate was getting too big to ride on the tank, as she likes to do on my street bike. She likes to stand up on the tank in the corners so she can lean into them, which is great fun for her but at times, terrifying for me. After shaking loose the "awesome power" mentality and 135mph cruise reality the modern sport bike world has imposed on my consciousness, I began to enjoy the Ural as more of its charms became revealed. It brought me back to the days when you could ride up into the Berkeley hills, see a steep bank and climb it. Most of the bikes you found climbing in those days were BSA 500 singles, Triumph 650s and stripped-down Harleys. Street tires were the norm. We knew nothing of bikes with 24 inches of travel or however far the shocks roam And tires with treads like cat paws. If you are a totally anal person who plays with high-tech toys; then a Ural is definitely NOT for you, as it is like driving an old Jimmy Six cylinder whose tappets (that's right I said tappets) have just been adjusted....using a butter knife. It clatters along with a slow and steady rhythm that to my ears, is true and wonderful music. With the Ural there is also the "seeping issue". In the machine's written guarantee it states that the "seeping " of oil is not covered under the terms of the guarantee, as it is an integral function of the inherent nature of the bike. And it is. Of course milling machines in Russia are most likely some guy with a big file sitting at a bench trying to file the metal surfaces as flat as he can while finishing off the better part of a bottle of vodka. So the bikes do seep, all of them. But it does keep things lubricated all over. Best solution is to buy a five-dollar drip pan for your driveway and remember to be polite at your buddies place and park on the lawn or what passes for one and let the warm oil drip there. That's what friends are for. The handling of the Ural and sidecar is, well you remember me mentioning the GMC truck? It's kind of like driving one. A combination of body and soul. The soul you need to remember as you approach a corner too fast and begin to wonder if there is indeed a God. The body, you need to swing out left or right on the rig to correct your line. Overall when you are on a Ural, you are extremely close to what motorcycling is all about. It recalls the days when motorcycles were the vehicles of choice, as cars were too expensive to own. There is also the feeling of being close to Nature as you soar with the birds, flying above you down a country road. You and the machine chug along good naturedly, not annoying the rural folks who live on country roads. Feeling just how good 45 mph can feel instead of 90. And to be able to look down through a face shield splattered with bugs at a companion in the chair below you who is smiling back. In my case my dog Mate." Mike and I took off for the Berkeley hills and "The Wall" around five thirty. Mike and his Mate on the Ural and me on my little Honda 250 NX. Following behind the twosome I could distinctly watch the entirely different approach necessary to negotiate a right hand turn as opposed to a left hand turn. Gas on, body English, you want to power through that one, now for this one we want to simply let the machine arc through the turn of its own accord. Fascinating and all the time I can see Mate's head turning this way and that, excitedly taking in the summer evening's scenery. After shooting some photos I cautiously agreed to ride in the chair and with Mate sitting on my lap, off we went for a once around the hills. Mike promised that he would not lift the chair as I had seen him do earlier with only Mate with him. One of the first things I noticed was how comfortable the chair was and how it fit my medium frame and weight perfectly. I began to relax. The next thing I noticed was that the chair was pretty well suspended and the bumpiness of the road around Tilden Park was soaked up pretty well by the shocks. Like the rest of the machine they are decidedly low-tech, but they were doing the job nonetheless. Next thing I know I am remembering my boyhood and riding in my Aunt's Mamie's Packard convertible out by the lake. My eyes and face are caught in the wind. I can smell Eucalyptus. I hear the birds. I hear the tires. I hear mechanical sounds from the frame. I look down to my left at the machine and can actually see a piece of the steel transmission spinning. Mate looks over her shoulder at me. Happy as a clam. It doesn't get much more real than this I think to myself and I am almost sad to find our twenty minute loop coming to a close and I am once again here and now and 1956 is gone. My Aunt Mamie's Packard convertible disappears from view and in its place a white Audi sedan whisks by silently with some necktied Joe Joe at the wheel, a cell phone in his ear. I'm back and I'm clearly not real happy about that. I say good-bye to Mike Bacon, after finding that like all sixty year-olds who still are riding their motorcycles we have much in common. Specifications Model number Dimensions (L x W x H) Seat height Road clearance Dry weight Recommended max speed Engine Bore & Stroke Compression ratio Displacement Rated HP @ 5600 RPM Carburetion Clutch Rated Torque @ 4000 RPM Alternator (14 Volt) Starting Gearbox Fuel Tank Capacity Front Brakes Rear Brakes Ignition Front suspension Rear suspension Wheels Color IMZ-8.1037 2580 x 1700 x 1100 mm / 101.6 x 66.9 x 43.3 inches 785 mm / 30.9 inches 125 mm / 4.9 inches 335 kg / 739 lbs 105 km/h / 65 mph OHV Air-cooled, four-stroke, flat twin cylinder 78 & 78 mm 8.6:1 745 cc 40 Twin KEIHIN L 22 AA Carburetors Dry double disc 52 Nm / 38 ft-lbs 35 Amps / 300 Watts Electric and Kick-start 4 forward, 1 reverse, shaft drive 91 Octane Unleaded 19 liters / 5.0 US gallons Front - BREMBO disk brake Rear and sidecar wheel - IMZ drum brake Electronic Leading link forks Hydraulic spring shock absorbers 19" chrome steel spokes and cast aluminum hubs Red or Black Price: $8595 exluding taxes, title and licensing, registration, destination charges and dealer setup. Dealer prices may vary and are subject to change. |