Ural Web Log - Page 4

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Sun, 30 Jul 06: Angie had some of her art on display at a small art show in the town of Newboro this weekend, so I decided to show my support by taking Hector up there with me for a visit. The most direct route was via a very busy highway notorious for impatient and stupid drivers, so I consulted a map of the region for an alternate back roads route. I selected some roads that more or less paralleled the highway and away we went. I knew that some of them would be gravel but, having washed the Tourist yesterday and getting it dirty again in a surprise rainstorm, I wasn't worried. Until we got onto one particular road, that is. The further we traveled down it the narrower and rougher it became. A few times I felt the handlebars violently twitch in my hands as the front end hit a hidden rut or pothole, while Hector was getting jostled around in the chair - and none too happy about it, either. I had to stop a couple times to make sure we were on the right route because it was really beginning to look like banjo country to me. Eventually the road widened again and the surface improved, allowing us to carry on without incident, arriving at the show slightly dusty but happy. After a nice visit with my sweetie and a swim in the lake and chase the ball session with Hector, we headed for home. On the way back I decided to take the same route, only slower this time to reduce the chances of smashing the bike to bits on the rocky sections of the banjo route. Everything went well until one particularly nasty section when a car coming in the other direction surprised us. The road was so narrow that I had to pull over to the right as far as I could and then stop to let them by. We exchanged smiles and waves, then after they had passed I let out the clutch and -THUD! - the rig tilted to the right and came to a sudden halt. The car disappeared around the corner, its occupants unaware of what had just happened. I dismounted and took a closer look and found that the rig was resting on the frame under the sidecar step while the wheel was totally obscured in a deep, weed filled hole. To make matters worse, there was a stinking bog less than two feet away, which meant I couldn't let Hector out without losing him in the muck. I got back on the bike and tried to rock it out of the hole in 1^st and reverse gears, but all that did was dig the drive wheel into the gravel. So I shut the bike off, put it neutral and tried to muscle it out by yanking on the front fender rail and sidecar front luggage rack. All that got me was a backache and a sweat soaked shirt for my efforts, the rig wouldn't budge. Right around that time I heard another car approaching and I turned to face them. Oh. My. God. It was a beat up old Oldsmobile chock full of extras from the Deliverance movie and suddenly I felt strangely uncomfortable. Instinct took over and I smiled and waved, making like I had just stopped for a refreshing drink of water from my water bottle. They smiled and waved in return and (thank you, Jesus) continued on. Once they were out of sight I resumed my yanking on the rig in a desperate attempt to pull it clear before they decided to return for another look at the fat, hairy biker with the right purty mouth. I finally remembered the old Millwright adage of "Work Smarter, Not Harder" and began to think more clearly about what to do. *Ding!* and a light came on over me head as I remembered the folding shovel stashed in the Ural's trunk. A few minutes later I had cleared the weeds away from the wheel and had dug an exit ramp out of the hole. A few more healthy tugs on the front end and we were in the clear! You can see the rut the pusher wheel dug in the gravel, while the arrow shows the location of the shovel buried deep in the hole in this pic. Poor Hector had been roasting away in the chair all this time so I let him out for a pee and poured some water into his travel dish while I took a few minutes to cool off before continuing home. A few km's later we crossed a small bridge that traversed a dark, stagnant, moody looking river. I swear I heard banjo music coming from the far bank, so I hopped back on the rig and tore out of there before some Cletus had the chance to show up in his clapped out pickup and tell me "Gananoque?! This river don't go to Gananoque". The rest of the trip was without incident and we arrived home sore and exhausted, with Hector collapsing in front of the air conditioner while I just barely made it to the stash of cold beer in the fridge.

Sat, 05 Aug 06: Removed the alternator this morning to determine the cause of a shrieking/rattling (don't ya just love my descriptions?!) noise coming from that area. It's been there pretty much from the start and has gradually worsened as the km's have piled on. Ken Beach had suggested rotating the alternator slightly to reduce the backlash in the gears and that helped for awhile but lately it's been getting noisier. During his visit a couple weeks ago, Ken used my mechanic's stethoscope and determined that the likely cause was a spun bearing at the front of the coupling assembly. Since that time I have been waiting for a day cool enough to work in the garage without drowning in sweat and this morning was that opportunity. Once I removed the unit I noticed the damage on the upper timing gear. Not good. The alternator gear was just as bad, but Ken's suspicions were confirmed when I spun the alternator shaft and saw the bearing move in the housing. This pic shows the pencil mark I placed on the housing and bearing seal, in this pic the pencil shows how much the bearing spun after ten rotations of the alternator shaft. Looks like I'll have to take the rig to Ken's place soon for the warranty repair. I spoke with Ural Canada and they assured me it would be covered and, while they had no objections to me continuing to ride the Ural, I was advised to monitor the noise and quit using the bike if it suddenly got worse. Works for me. So I washed the Ural after replacing the alternator and then took Hector out on a leisurely 148km jaunt today, stopping first to have a cuppa tea with my parents, then motoring about on the quietest paved routes I knew. I found a new road that I hadn't been down before and was rewarded with the sight of this fine old truck. It looked like it was still used occasionally, but I couldn't figure out what the purpose of the rope was. We carried on, enjoying the smells and warmth of the countryside. Hector's nose popped over the side of the hack at one point, furiously working overtime as he caught scent of a herd of cattle. So I u-turned and went back to where they were grazing, just for the heck of it. Hector was the picture of interest, cocking his head this way and that, nose twitching away and a soft whine coming from his throat as he sat there listening to the herd. I'm sure his Cattle Dog instincts were working overtime and had he the gift of sight, I'm sure he would have been anxious to get out there and herd them around. We left them mooing and chewing their cud in peace and went to visit a friend of mine in his bookshop before heading back home. Somewhere along the Parkway before Gananoque, the odometer rolled past the 16,000km mark.

Sun, 06 Aug 06: After a very close call with the Harley on this morning's ride - totally my fault and that's all I'm going to say about that - I decided to take the Ural for a spin to calm me down. Hector was of course too eager to accompany me and we headed off into the mid-day sun for another back road adventure. My intent was to find him a new swimming hole, so we took a few roads we hadn't been on since the spring and went looking for water. Unfortunately due to the hot, humid and rainy summer, every creek and lake we traveled past were covered with weeds and lily pads along the shoreline. We pulled into a couple of boat launches for a look, much to the delight of the aquatic crowds there, but the long weekend meant that they were all busy. As one boat was launched and its trailer pulled out, another was backing in to take its place. I was beginning to get a little worried about Hector, as the sun was shining directly onto him and he had no shade to cool off in the interior of the hack. I reached down to pet and reassure him and was dismayed to feel hot fur through my glove - my puppy needed a swim NOW. Not a moment too soon we found roadside boat launch along CTY Rd 33 at Charleston Lake, it was well hidden by the slope of the hill and we would have missed it were it not for the flash of chrome reflected from a bass boat's windshield as its owner was preparing to launch it from the trailer. I wheeled around, went up to the entrance and trundled down the steep rocky trail to the water. Once the boat owner had pulled his trailer and truck clear of the launch ramp, I let Hector out and he went straight into the cool water like a guided missile. And he would NOT come out. I threw every stick, twig, dried weed and rock I could find for him in an attempt to tire him out but it wasn't enough. He wasn't coming out until he was good and ready. So I let him swim aimlessly around, keeping a watchful eye lest he stray too far out into the deep waters. Eventually he'd had enough and finally dragged his butt back onto land. While he was busy shaking and waggling and sneezing all the water off, I noticed that I had parked next to a sign. I'm sure it wasn't referring to Urals, but you never know. We headed for home once again, with a quick stop at The Beer Store. They were out of Keith's - oh, the horror! So I'm quaffing a Foster's as I write this.

Wed, 31 Aug 06: Ok, so I kinda forgot to update my blog because I've been having so much fun lately. The bike has performed flawlessly since the surgery at Ural Canada; once the clutch wore in a bit I was able to adjust it and eliminate the "grabbing when hot" problem. The timing gears have worn in as well, and the curious whirring noise has subsided. The trip to and from Angie's Mom's place was great, the bike just hummed along and we experienced some new and great country roads along the way. Douk now has over 17,800km; I did the 17,500km service two days ago and was relieved to find no metal filings in the oil or filter and only a small amount of swarf on the magnetic drain plug. My younger brother Jeff and his family are visiting from Germany for a few weeks, so the sidecar will see active duty as I chauffeur him around and show him all my favourite haunts. Took him for a short ride yesterday and showcased the Ural's abilities by romping down a few twisty gravel roads. Jeff knows about hacks as he owns a '61 BSA A10 with a Watsonian sidecar, but this was his first experience in the chair. He did well, though, leaning this way and that and grinning like a madman as we tossed the rig around. I'll be taking him out for an extended ride this Sunday, so I should have some good pics to post afterwards.

Sat, 09 Sep 06: I went to the Old Bastards Vintage Motorcycle Rally today with fellow CURDite Cam and his '05 Patrol. Full story is on the CURD website here.

Sun, 17 Sep 06: Got off to a very slow start today. Angie and I got into the Sambuca and coffee bean shooters last night, along with generous helpings of wine (her) and whiskey (me). Had one hell of a wild time - my chick knows how to party - but both of us ended up feeling very sick this morning. I eventually managed to stumble out into the garage around 1:30pm, while Angie was still in bed recovering. I wanted to try out my new wheel truing stand and wheel balancing stand that I had made at work, using ideas gleaned from the internet. Ken Beach had sent me three new rims to replace the severely warped ones that were originally on the bike. I had already done the tire swap onto the new rims, but for my own peace of mind I wanted to make certain they were properly trued and balanced. Both stands worked fine and I learned a couple things about Russian rims in the process; they require ungodly amounts of wheel weights and they come pre-warped right from the factory. I was able to tweak the runout to within 0.020" on all three rims but there wasn't anything that could be done about the warpage at the weld seams. Had a bit of a hassle while truing the pusher rim because one of the spoke nipples stripped while I was adjusting it. So, off came the tire and inner tube and the offending nipple was replaced with one from the old rims. A half-hour later the wheel was back on the stand and was trued and balanced soon after. I was about to do the front wheel when I realised that the adapter I had made for the drum brake rims wouldn't fit, so I'll have to whip one up at work next week. I haven't taken the rig out for a run yet to check my handiwork, but will do so tomorrow after work. Looks like a good day according to the Weather Network, so I'll take the Harley as it hasn't seen much use lately.

Sat, 23 Sep 06: Well, the wheel balancing and truing session has paid off - the bike is noticeably more smoother now and I can actually cruise at 100kmh without feeling that I'm going to vibrate off the rig. I highly recommend any Ural, Dnepr and CJ owners to have this procedure done on their bikes; you would not believe the difference it makes! It's been another miserable, pissy week that saw the Ural being used as commuter bike every day except Tuesday (took the Harley that day and got caught in a massive downpour). The rains finally let up in the late afternoon today and I took the opportunity to take Hector for another ride through the country. Took mostly dirt roads and because of all the recent rain they were mostly mud trails, so we had lots of fun sliding about and around the corners. Stopped at an Alpaca farm and was treated to the sight of about 20 of them gathered around the fence, keenly watching Hector in the sidecar. They are beautiful creatures and I was able to come right up to the fence and talk to them without fear of being spit on, as would happen when dealing with Llamas. Things were going well until Hector made what one of them thought was a threatening move and it started belting out the alarm call. Which, unfortunately, sounded almost exactly like one of Hector's squeaky toys, which got him squeaking away in the sidecar, which made the Alpaca squeak even louder. I finally got them all calmed down and went to the sidecar to dig out the camera for a pic. But when I opened the trunk and reached inside, well, the alarm was sounded again and I had to get everyone mellowed out once more. By now, all the squeaking had attracted the attention of a huge - but fortunately friendly - farm dog who came running up to the fence to see what all the fuss was about. I noticed some people standing by the garage way down the driveway with what I thought might be concerned looks on their faces, so I fired up the rig and trundled down there to introduce myself. Turns out they already knew me as the "crazy guy" who rode the Ural all winter and were happy to finally meet Hector and I in person. Also turns out they had just adopted an Australian Cattle Dog, so we spent some time chatting about them and about the Ural. They were getting ready to have a family fish fry and I didn't want to intrude, so I said goodbye and motored back out to the road. We went sliding and bouncing through the muck back to HWY 2 and carried on to some more back roads that took us to Hector's favourite stretch of road, where I always stop to let him chase his special jingle ball. As we were playing, I noticed a lady walking her dog towards us, so I reeled Hector in and held him while I waited for her to pass by. Well, wasn't she the lady from up the road who owned all the land on either side of where we stood. I had met her husband earlier in the year on this same stretch when he had driven out to investigate after seeing the Ural parked off to the side of the road during a game of fetch. Her dog seemed to like Hector, so we let them both play while we talked. She was very nice and told me I could come out and let Hector roam around in their fields any time I wanted. After a few more throws, it was time to head home and we got back just as the sun began to disappear over the horizon. The bike was dirty (pic1 - pic2), more than it has been in a long time, but it sure looked good!

Thu, 12 Oct 06: Went out for a lovely Fall Colours Ride today. Got stuck, too. Details on my Rides page here.

Sun, 29 Oct 06: Hard to believe, but the Ural has been sitting unused for well over a week until this afternoon. I went and traded my Harley Super Glide in on an new '07 Harley Road Glide on 19 Oct (pics and story here) and, despite the crappy weather, I've been busy riding my new toy ever since. Today was VERY windy and cold but in spite of it I decided to take Douk out for a run and give Hector a ride, with the intent of stopping at our fave spot to play fetch the ball. However, once underway it became apparent that today wasn't the best day for that sort of thing. The wind was at a steady 35kmh from the West with frequent gusts in the 70-90kmh range and it made for a pretty hairy ride. Barely had to touch the throttle whenever the wind was at our back, but as soon as I turned and headed across or directly into it I had to do some fancy riding to keep the rig on the road. At one point the sidewind actually caused the rig to go into a three-wheel drift on a muddy stretch of road and I had to countersteer to stay out of the ditch. By the time we got to Hector's road the rain had started and it was slicing across the bow in sharp, needle-like streams. I elected to head for home. Despite wearing his Doggles and tartan riding jacket, Hector was hunkered down in the chair for pretty much the entire 64km trip anyway, so I don't think he really missed being let out for a run. By the time we got home both the bike and my riding gear were coated in a light brown smearing of wet mud - the dirtiest we've ever been!

Sun, 05 Nov 06: Went out for a romp down the backroads today, with Hector riding shotgun in the hack and looking all spiffy in his cold weather tartan riding jacket. The roads were still wet and muddy from the morning's rainfall and I had a lot of fun doing powerslides in the corners and splashing through huge puddles. Stopped at Hector's fave "fetch the ball" road where we took a moment to face East and say a small prayer for Oleg, the Ural Patrol of CURD's Vice President (Atlantic Division). It is undergoing clutch surgery at Kottwitz Werke, the Ural dealer near Halifax, NS and we prayed for his quick and safe return. Then we launched into a 20-minute fetch session. While we were playing, an ATV appeared out of the treeline at the far end of the field and motored up to where we stood. It was a good ol' boy who had mistaken the Ural for his hunting buddy's ATV and had come over to investigate, figuring it had broken down and needed his help. Once we got that sorted out, he stayed for a chat during which he told me he was busy getting his deer blind ready for the start of the hunting season tomorrow morning. A very good reminder for me not to take Hector out into the woods for the next two weeks! After he left, Hector and I continued our game. When he finally tired, I gave him a dish of water and a cookie and then we were on our way. We still had 3 hours to play before having to report to my Mom and Dad's house for supper at 4:30pm, so I chose a route that I figured would fill up that time frame. The first half was over some familiar roads and we made good time, despite all the mud. Surprised a group of ATV riders who had stopped for a smoke break at the edge of the woods; they were amazed to see an Ural suddenly appear from around a corner in full slide, bouncing over ruts and spraying mud all over the place, then disappearing just as quick with a short "hello" blast from the horn lingering in the air. The second half of the route was an experimental jaunt down some new roads, heading in the general direction of my parent's place. I ended up on one of the major secondary highways by mistake and had to do a high speed run (ie: 85kmh with the throttle pinned) into a strong headwind to the next turnoff, much to the disgust of the Sunday traffic that was screaming along well in excess of the posted 80kmh limit. After a few turns onto unfamiliar roads but still heading in the right direction, I finally came across a road that I knew well and threaded our way down to our supper date. I stopped at the top of a hill just before my parent's place to phone and let them know we would be arriving in a few minutes. I was surprised to see that we had only been riding for just under three hours and 75km in total, but the bike looked like it had been riding longer than that what with all the mud dripping down its sides. Angie met us in her car at my parent's place and we had a great supper, as is normal with my Mom's cooking. By the time we were ready to leave for home at 8pm it was pitch black and considerably cooler than when we'd arrived, so I let Hector ride back in the car with Angie. Somewhere along the way home the Ural rolled past the 21,000km mark. Tomorrow, Douk will get a full wash and wax in honour of the event.

Fri, 24 Nov 06: Damn near got killed this morning on the way to work. I was motoring down the Parkway at 95kmh when caught up to a slow moving car near the Rockport Lighthouse. I pulled out to pass and was just about even with the driver's side door when my headlight picked up THREE deer on the road directly ahead. I had no time to react; they were too close when I spotted them, but thankfully they ran off onto the shoulder just as I went by. It scared the hell out of me, but I don't think the car driver even noticed them. I tried not to let the "what ifs" get to me after that, but by the time I arrived at work I was in a pretty glum mood. This was by far my closest incident all year and it was hard not to think about what could have happened had I passed that car one second sooner. I mulled over it all morning and then said to hell with it and left work early, right after lunch. I was determined not to let a sunny +5C day go to waste despite my attitude, so I took the long way home in an attempt to brighten my outlook on life. Had a UDF session with a guy at the Long Beach gas station when I filled up; he saw the rig pull in and came over to watch and pester me with all kinds of wide-eyed, awestruck questions as I refueled. He was from Quebec and just passing through, so hopefully he will look up the Ural dealer there when he returns home. Had the second UDF with the owner of the Mallorytown grocery store when I stopped there to get wine for tonight. He happened to be outside when I emerged from the store with the booze and we spent a few minutes with the usual questions and answers. He was quite impressed that I ride all winter and more so when I told him about my loyal companion, Hector. I carried on down some more back roads and eventually hooked up with HWY2, where I stopped for a closer look at something that has caught my eye for a while now but haven't had a chance to investigate. It's a VW powered trike (pic 1, pic 2, pic 3) and it's quite the contraption. The guy is selling it for a friend and didn't know much about it, so he couldn't answer all of my questions but he did fire it up so I could listen to the motor. His friend originally wanted $5k but had recently dropped the price to $3.5K. After checking it over, I wouldn't be comfortable offering any more than $1k. This thing was in rough shape, but I must admit it had me interested. Had I the money and garage space, it would be mine. I think a trike like this would be a fun project to work on. I had an uneventful and enjoyable rest of the ride home, taking a few choice back roads and arriving at my garage in a much better frame of mind. After supper I called Ken Beach for some advice on a few matters and now it looks like I'll have a busy garage session tomorrow morning. I'll be changing the oil and going to 10W40 weight for the winter, partly because of the recent drop in temperatures and partly because I want to see if there's any metal slivers in the oil. Yep, that "chirring" noise from the alternator is back again and I need to check the timing gears and alternator bearings for damage. I'll be pulling the alternator first to check the bearings, then adjusting the backlash on the timing gears by removing the alternator from the coupling housing and wiggling the coupling itself. I was going to rotate the tires to get something with more tread on the pusher, which is fast approaching the useable wear limit, but Ken informed me he'll be sending me a new tire by bus early next week so I'll just wait for that to arrive instead. I've given up on my airbox inlet mods for now, it seems no matter what I try there's always problems with water entering the airbox and clogging the filter. I had plans for an elaborate intake system that would have seen the air filter mounted inside the nose of the sidecar; the idea was to have a series of rubber hose elbows and plastic PVC pipe leading from the sidecar back to a large plenum chamber (a section of 3" dia PVC pipe with three ports) replacing the stock airbox. I figured this would be a sure-fire way to maintain a supply of dry air as the filter would have a large, relatively undisturbed volume to draw from inside the spacious nose of the hack. However, after posting these plans on a few forums and asking for feedback and advice someone brought up the very good point about intake noise. Hector would be subjected to it whenever he would be lying down because his sensitive ears would be close to the air intake - obviously, this was not a good idea and it was shelved. I've also discovered that the rear facing intake scoop I made a few weeks ago didn't have a large enough opening and was actually choking off the engine at speeds above 85kmh due to restricted airflow. So I'm back to the stock metal "hat" setup on the airbox lid for now, which will be okay for awhile as I do not ride in rain at this time of year and won't have to worry too much about water soaking the filter. I will, however, be making another rear facing scoop soon that will be 1" high with a 7" wide inlet, which will be larger then the 2 3/4" diameter inlet hole in the airbox lid itself. This should allow for proper airflow and it will be made so that both the scoop and lid can be removed to access the filter without having to remove the entire airbox first. Okay, that's enough typing for now - I have a warm blonde and a bottle of wine waiting for me. ;-)

Sat, 02 Dec 06: Didn't ride at all last week, mostly because of the rain but also because I had been laid up at home on Tuesday and Wednesday with the stomach flu. A nasty, vicious experience that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy and that's all I gots to say 'bout that. The tire arrived on Wednesday, but it wasn't until this morning that I had a chance to install it. This time I decided to sprinkle some talcum powder inside the tire prior to installation, as this is a highly recommended step by the pros. Apparently, the talc acts as a dry lubricant and helps prevent wear caused by the inner tube chafing as the tire is flexing through corners. Angie gracefully volunteered the use of her can of talcum powder, but it wasn't until I sprinkled it into the tire that I realised it was of the perfumed variety. Whatever. At least if I have a flat it will smell nice. I finished the task in good time and with no problems, except that now I have a collection of five worn tires leaning up against the wall of the garage. Too bad they can't be re-treaded, as it's quite a waste of rubber. Squeaky Hector was loaded into the hack shortly after I'd finished checking over the bike and we motored off for another adventure in the brisk, cold December winds. There had been quite a rainstorm yesterday, somewhere in the area of 30mm fell in the region and it was accompanied by some very strong winds. I was amazed at the extent of the damage as we putted down the quiet gravel roads, there were signs of fallen trees all over the place. Saw several power line and telephone repair trucks with their baskets extended and workers busily clearing dead trees from the lines. There had been quite a bit of flooding in the low lying areas and all the creekbeds, normally dry at this time of year, were swollen and overflowing with runoff from the storm. There was one good point about flooding, though; it presented me with another new adventure on the Ural - our first water crossing. One of the seldom used country roads we ambled down had a short section that was now underwater. I knew the road well and wasn't too concerned about the depth, which I estimated to be around 8" at the deepest point, but I stopped to check it out before committing to the crossing just in case. Then I put it in first and slowly idled through, carefully watching the bow wave from the front wheel to make sure we didn't get too deep. Halfway through, though, I forgot all about that as I was laughing too hard to concentrate - Hector, hearing the water splashing all around him, was sitting up in the hack with his ears perked and his head hooked over the side, squeaking away and totally confused as to how he could be in the water but not swimming! It was really messing with his mind and my laughing at him didn't help. We made it no problem to the other side and I was so enthralled that I whipped out the camera, put the rig into reverse and backed up to the deepest point for another pic. By now Hector had calmed down a bit and was looking up at me with his ears perked and head cocked, wondering why I was giggling away like an idiot. I was having too much fun watching the bow waves and marveling at the whole experience. I took one more photo from the other side and finally carried on with our journey. 120km later we were back home; chilled but happy and with another tale to tell.

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