I think our Ural was made by the Weyland-Yutani Corporation.
Separated at birth?
(Crossposted from Marc’s Soviet Steeds post over here.)
New Air Intake Hoses
As I mentioned in my last post, we replaced Smutyanka’s air intake hoses today. This was our third, and finally successful, try. Our first attempt was with aircraft hose, which was too big (2in, when our diameter is 1.75in). Then, we bought rubber hosing (rated to the proper temperature) that was the right diameter, but it was too stiff and ended up crimping instead of curving. Marc was feeling somewhat at the end of his rope as to what to do about these hoses, when he suddenly had a breakthrough idea last night while I was out buying groceries: combine the two! Let me explain:
New Toys!
Smutyanka has gotten quite a few new toys recently! Some are more necessary than others. In order of installation:
Duck Boards
Urals come with a rubber mat that fits in the floor of the sidecar. It provides some nice traction, but water gets underneath and if you don’t air it out regularly, you can get some pretty severe rust underneath. During WWII, the traction problem was solved by putting slats of wood, called “duck boards”, into the floor. We ordered this stained oak set from Heindl Engineering and they are quite beautiful and work perfectly.
Hopefully they will help with keeping the sidecar dry. I prefer them to the rubber mat already because they also make a nice ridge to brace your feet against. On righthand turns it really helps the driver if the monkey (sidecar passenger) leans strongly to the right, and it’s much easier to do this if you have something to push against with your feet. These do the trick nicely.
Kill Switch
Some of you may remember that our engine kill switch cover fell off a few weeks ago. Well, for $2.50, Holopaw Paul sent us a new one. We couldn’t find a screw quite short enough, so we had to punch through the other side of the plastic. It’s fine for now, but some time soon we will get a metal file and file down the end of the screw that sticks out.
For a tiny piece of cast plastic, it was quite a surprising pain to attach, as you can probably figure out from the photos.
Trunk Lock
One of the great things about having a sidecar is the instant storage it provides. Behind the seat is a trunk of sorts, in which we keep our toolkit, voltmeter, wire cutters, test lamp, spare battery, WD-40, oil funnel, tarp, spare tonneau (sidecar) cover, paperwork, tie-down ropes, and helmets. With all that in there, you really want to be able to lock it, and thankfully there are a few after-market solutions folks have come up with, from ghetto to sophisticated. We chose the sophisticated route and bought a lock system from Delaware Dave.
Installing it was a pain in the ass (and involved drilling a 1in hole in the side of the sidecar), but the lock works quite well. It’s a bit counter-intuitive because you turn the key the opposite direction from what you’re used to, but it’s sturdy and it looks professional. Installing it has made us both wonder why Ural doesn’t just include them straight from the factory. I’ll post some photos of the inside of the trunk tomorrow, but by the time we were finished it was too dark.
Tarp
Smutyanka’s engine isn’t the most watertight thing in the world, and folks on the forums really recommend keeping Urals out of the rain. Water can quite easily get into the carbs, air filter, transmission, etc, just by nature of the way these engines are assembled (which is to say, by hand and not very precisely), so it’s good to keep them under some sort of protection. A few weekends ago we went to a reenactment and it was supposed to storm that weekend, but I couldn’t find a tarp that wasn’t massive. So, I improvised: I bought a $1.50 poncho at Target and punched some holes in the plastic around the edges, ran some rope through it, and managed to completely cover the engine and important bits:
MacGyver would’ve been proud. Marc said it reminded him of stuff he saw when he was living in Africa, but it did the job, and now we have a real tarp:
Eventually we will buy a Ural-specific cover (they’re about $80), but for now, the tarp will do.
Air Intake Hoses
I have mentioned our need for new air intake hoses several times on this blog. Our old ones were ill-fitting and full of dry rot, and if you don’t have a tight seal around your carburetors, the engine will run too lean and you risk getting dirt and debris in your engine. Plus, the location of the air hoses on Urals is not the best, and they are very close to where your foot sits on the shifters, making it easy to knock out of place if it’s not secure:
Since this post is long enough already and the frankenstein-style tactics we had to use to create new air hoses and install them were quite complex, you will have to wait until the next post to get more details on that. I’ll try to get that posted later tonight or tomorrow morning.
It’s been a busy few days for Smutyanka!
A lot has gone on for Smutyanka in the last couple days! When I last wrote, we were hoping that our battery drain problems were being caused by the fact that we hadn’t been disconnecting the battery after driving. Well, we had another Ural Tourist owner from Soviet Steeds come by and help us take a look at her, and we discovered that our regulator is dead! Now, we don’t know if the alternator is also dead, but we can’t figure that out until we replace the regulator. We’re really hoping it’s just the regulator because that’s a $12 part, whereas a new 14amp alternator would run us around $250.
When Ken (the other Ural owner) came over, we also realized that one of our spark plugs was fouled (he gave us one of his spares), and that there was approximately a QUART of water in the transmission (which came squirting out of a hole when we started her). We drained the transmission fluid (which looked like a latte – see photo) and the water (which literally gushed out) and replaced the transmission fluid (Ural motors actually use motor oil in the transmission. Weird.). Once we realized that the battery was not being charged by the alternator, we disconnected the headlight at Ken’s recommendation, as it’s the biggest draw of power other than the engine. So long as we keep checking the battery level, we can drive her as she is (sans regulator and thus sans recharging) until the battery dies, which is about 100 miles on a Ural. We’re keeping our spare battery in the sidecar trunk just in case. 
Water/transmission fluid draining from the engine.
Looks like a latte, doesn’t it?
The flanges (black seal on the left of the carburetor) have dry rot and will need replacing soon, or the engine will run too lean.
So, we have now ordered a new regulator, a new horn (the old one has rusted solid), some new air intake hoses (the ones we purchased were the wrong size), a new kill switch (since the old one fell off), some spare spark plugs, and some new flanges for the carburetors (the old ones have dry rot). Amusingly enough, the Ural community is so tight-knit that the primary spare parts dealer (Holopaw Paul of Holopaw Corvette) works primarily on the honor system! You tell him what you need, he sends it, and if it works, then you pay him. If it doesn’t, you send it back, and he’ll send you something else that might work. It’s kind of hilarious, but also awesome, as that way you don’t waste money on something that doesn’t work for your bike! This sort of community-based attitude that Ural owners seem to collectively have is one of the things that really drew me to Urals. Then again, I shouldn’t be surprised by the collectivism considering that it’s a community based around communist motorcycles!
We took Smutyanka out for her first real road driving yesterday. Even though the regulator is kaput, we can still drive her based on the charge the battery already has, so we drove her around the neighborhood. Though I have driven standard/manual vehicles all my life, Marc has relatively little experience with them, and our neighborhood is very hilly, so it was something of a trial by fire for him. We drove over to his parents’ house, and we drove to the local family-owned grocery store to pick up some beer. We also both just sort of drove randomly around the neighborhood for practice. I really need to work on my arm strength – you really have to muscle that bike around, and I have a hard time with sharp turns. Unlike a regular motorcycle, you can’t lean a sidecar bike, so you have to steer it, and unlike a car, you have to work against the fact that the sidecar wheel doesn’t turn with the front wheel (imagine turning your car if only your left front wheel turned and the other three were all in a fixed, straight position – not easy). I did very well with shifting and clutch-work though, so that was good, and I only ran over one curb with the sidecar (it’s difficult to tell quite where the edge of the sidecar is, if you’re not used to it). Marc did pretty well with his driving – he still has trouble knowing what gear to be in, and he has trouble kicking the shifters hard enough, but in general he did quite well for someone with very little clutch experience. I think that our abilities could be summed up as that he’s better at steering the bike, and I’m better at driving it.
We did stall out the bike once, though, when we were trying to drive off from a stoplight that was on a hill. We both jumped off the bike and pushed it over to the side of the road quickly, which I’m sure was quite an amusing sight for the folks behind us in the lane. It was very reminiscent of a “Chinese fire drill”. Unfortunately, because she doesn’t have an electronic ignition, when we stall out we have to push her to the side, because it takes at least 5 seconds to get her properly back into neutral and then started with the kick starter. But, at least it’s amusing to watch.
I took a short video while we were driving through the neighborhood. You can see what the view is like from the sidecar, and I also took a couple seconds of video of the scary, exposed shaft drive, for those of you who are mechanically inclined. It’s very weird to sit in the sidecar, because you’re pretty low to the road, and you’re far enough away from the driver that you can’t hear a word either of you says. Marc and I had to work out a hand signal system for me to let him know what gear he should be in, because shouting does nothing. Anyway, here you go:
Good News!
So, it has now been confirmed that we don’t have one of the “Russian Grenades” for an alternator! Unless something drastic happens, that alternator should last us quite awhile, apparently. This is good, because apparently they’re a bitch and a half to replace.
The other bit of good news is more like…potential good news. As I wrote earlier today, something has been mysteriously draining our battery. Thanks to a very helpful BMW & Ural mechanic on Soviet Steeds (who, indeed, has told us to call him in the future – for free – if there are any problems, since he has the same model and year we do), we may have found the problem without ever having to touch a wire: there’s a hidden kill switch underneath the seat that you’re supposed to turn off each time you turn off the engine for more than an hour or two. The mechanic we bought the bike from didn’t know about it, and so neither did we, and it has been on this entire time! The general consensus seems to be that this is our problem, rather than a parasitic short on one of the wires. I really hope that’s the case, because then it’s just user error rather than a mechanical problem. Thankfully, it’s a pretty simple thing to check for, apparently, so we’ll be installing a newly-charged battery tomorrow (our spare) and we’ll go from there.
I hope that when we install the new (charged) battery and do the recommended tests, that the problem is indeed the switch, because if we wait much longer in the year to start riding, most of our riding is going to look like this:
Good News and Bad News
The Bad:
It’s always something with a Ural, and Smutyanka is no different.
We had her up and running for two weeks, and we thought that the source of our problems was a dead battery. As it turns out, we were half-correct. We did indeed have a dead battery, but what we didn’t realize is that we also have an electrical short somewhere in the bike that is leeching power from the battery even when the ignition is off.
Yesterday we had some friends over, and we were going to take them out for a spin around the parking lot, but she wouldn’t turn over. Not even a hopeful “put put”. We tried to bump start her twice, once in 1st gear, once in 2nd. No dice. We checked the battery with our voltmeter and…it’s dead. 4 volts. Considering that this was a brand new, dry cell battery, the only explanation for this is that something in the electronics is causing a parasitic drain on the battery.
The electronics on a Ural are relatively primative, but they’re also a rats nest. The folks on the forum seem pretty sure we should be able to find the source and fix it ourselves, but it’s going to be annoying as it’s going to be a lot of trial and error. At least by the time we’re done we’ll know a lot more about Smutyanka’s electrical system!
The Good:
For a certain period in Ural history, many of the bikes were fitted with a 35amp alternator with a terrible reputation for dismantling themselves while in use. The Ural community has nicknamed these alternators the “Russian Grenade”, because when they go, they tend to drop pieces into the engine, thus also destroying the engine. While some of these alternators end up being fine, most do fall apart, and so owners with those alternators tend to try and replace them with something better. For the mechanically inclined among you, here’s an example of the inside of the “Russian Grenade” alternators, post-explosion: Example 1 (Part 2), Example 2
Smutyanka is unfortunately from the period that had these installed, and we were concerned about this. She has very low milage, so we figured that we had awhile before we would have to start thinking about replacing the alternator with something less likely to destroy the engine.
However, as a side effect of posting about our battery problems, it seems that folks think that we are one of the lucky ones that have a bike without a Russian Grenade alternator! The general consensus seems to be that we have the 14amp alternator that is lower power but is much more stable and reliable. I need to take a more detailed shot for the folks in the forum so they can be sure, but from looking at this shot, they seem to think we’ve dodged that bullet:
Thankfully Marc has two days off in a row this week, so hopefully we can get some work done on her in that time. She also needs new air intake hoses (which we have), and we will probably do some general maintenance on her while we have her in pieces anyway. My helmet should be arriving this week and I hope that maybe by next week we will have her up and running again.
Ural Delay Factor Cards
One of the things about owning a vintage-looking sidecar bike like a Ural is that, well, a lot of people stop to ask you about it. Ural owners often refer to this as the “Ural Delay Factor”, or UDF for short. I’ve experienced this even in the parking lot, and when we went to put air in the tires yesterday, we got the attention of a guy who even took our picture, and the gas station attendant was so amused that he gave us free air! I’ve sometimes heard of folks getting free meals at diners, etc, from appreciative staff or other patrons, and while I was skeptical before, I can definitely see it now.
Back to the UDF: As a way to shorten UDF moments when you really don’t have time to chat, many folks have mentioned making some kind of pamphlet or card to hand to interested people. This sounded like a great idea to me, and I always enjoy doing layout stuff, so I whipped some up the other day. I plan on doing some other versions later, but for now, these will work. I’ll be going to Kinkos today to print them out. Click on the image to see the full size version.
She’s Road-Worthy!
We put mirrors on Smutyanka this afternoon, and she is now officially road-worthy according to the state of Virginia. We got some that are stable but easily removable, so that when we take her to reenactments, we can remove them easily, along with the modern license plate, luggage rack, etc. I’ll be ordering my helmet tonight, and hopefully it will be here early next week. Then, I can hopefully take the Basic Rider Course next weekend and be ready to ride. Until then, I’m restricted to being Marc’s monkey (sidecar passengers are referred to as “Monkeys”), but that’s not so bad. It’s a little surreal to be that close to the ground, though.
We did finally get some photos (albeit with my iPhone) of us on the bike, though. Here’s one each of me on the bike and Marc on the bike. It’s a good thing there’s a sidecar, because there’s no way in hell my feet would touch the ground on this thing. Marc, on the other hand, is fine. Damn tall people. Anyway, here you go:
Discovery Channel Ural Clip
Apparently there was a tidbit on the Discovery Channel awhile back about Urals. The narrator is great and wonderfully cheeky, and he is dead on about the bikes. ”It’ll go sideways, backwards, almost upside down, just about anywhere apart from where you want it to go. But, you’re never really going to fall off it, and you’re going so slow it doesn’t matter! Genius.” So, so, so true, as I am quickly learning.
Watch it here:
The first casualty of the parking lot…
In true Russian fashion, now that we have gotten Smutyanka running, she has started dropping parts.
I was driving around the parking lot this afternoon, practicing my right-hand turns (which are difficult on a sidecar, because 70% of the weight of the bike is on the left, where the centrifugal force is on a RH turn) and practicing driving in reverse (it’s so much fun). Our parking lot has one small speed bump, but in general, it’s not exactly filled with pot holes or other hazards. Besides, this is a bike that is generally meant for abuse, so those things are not generally too concerning with a Ural.
Apparently, it is with this Ural. When I pulled into our parking spot and went to use the kill switch to turn the bike off, I noticed that…the switch was no longer there. Well, I should clarify. The switch is, but the cover is not. All that is left is a little piece of metal sticking up about 1cm out of the handlebar. The normal/brights switch for the headlights is also now missing, and a precursory search through the parking lot turned up nothing. Looks like Marc and I get to order two more parts, though these aren’t an emergency, since the kill switch is still usable and we won’t be driving the bike at night in a situation where we would need the brights.
For those curious, here’s what the right handlebar now looks like:
