Adventures with Perry

Where have you been riding? Tell us all about your trip. Prove it with pictures! If ya didn't take pictures, it didn't happen...
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DammitDan
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Adventures with Perry

Post by DammitDan » Wed May 31, 2017 1:07 pm

I have this crazy idea to travel the country with my dog ala John Steinbeck and explore how the United States has changed (or stayed the same) since Travels with Charley in Search of America was written in 1960. I have the right dog, I found the right vehicle... now I just have to follow the right roads and find the right words to describe our experience together.

I'll post only my blog updates here, so if you want to see more check out @SidecarHound on Facebook and like to follow along! 8)
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Last edited by DammitDan on Wed May 31, 2017 6:45 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Dammit, Dan!
Clarksville, TN

Current Bikes
2016 Ural Gear Up
2006 Kawaski ZG1000 Concours "The Racing Mule"

Former Bikes
1980 Yamaha XS850 triple
1976 Honda GL1000 Goldwing
1981 Yamaha XS650 twin cafe bike
1983 Honda CB650 four aka The Redheaded Stepchild

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Re: Adventures with Perry

Post by Penrod » Wed May 31, 2017 1:22 pm

Read "Dogging Steinbeck" By Bill Steigerwald, published 2013. Excellent book. Researching collections of Steinbeck's letters and the original manuscript of Travels With Charley, he makes the same journey and shows that many of the scenes in the book are demonstrably fiction. Even one of Steinbeck's sons has said "he was a novelist, he sat in the truck and wrote." Read it. Still worth the trip.
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DammitDan
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Re: Adventures with Perry

Post by DammitDan » Wed May 31, 2017 1:36 pm

I read a little bit of the website for Dogging Steinbeck, and while many of the specific scenes may well have been fictionalized, he still completed the trip and much of the story seems "based on reality" and seems like a fairly accurate portrayal of American culture at the time. I'm still going to pick up the book to include its critical points in my writing, though. I plan to create something more akin to Jupiter's Travels using Steinbeck's route as a guide.
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Dammit, Dan!
Clarksville, TN

Current Bikes
2016 Ural Gear Up
2006 Kawaski ZG1000 Concours "The Racing Mule"

Former Bikes
1980 Yamaha XS850 triple
1976 Honda GL1000 Goldwing
1981 Yamaha XS650 twin cafe bike
1983 Honda CB650 four aka The Redheaded Stepchild

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DammitDan
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Re: Adventures with Perry

Post by DammitDan » Wed May 31, 2017 1:44 pm

May 15, 2017

Here's some of the backstory...

I adopted a four-year-old Black and Tan coonhound on Christmas of 2016, and ever since I have been working hard with him to get him ready for what I plan to do this summer. Perry was actually one of my primary motivations to buy a Ural... I have taken a couple of solo motorcycle trips across the United States in the past on a my 2006 Kawasaki Concours, and I have come to two conclusions:

1. Long solo trips can get pretty lonely.
2. You see a lot more of the world on gravel and dirt.

The second conclusion became especially problematic for me, since the Connie isn't exactly built for taking on jeep trails. That didn't stop me though, and I certainly suffered the consequences - both glorious and painful...
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With my 2016 Ural Gear Up (and an awesome dog) I finally have a bike that can both stave away loneliness AND take me to the places that a Concours should probably never go.

Since the beginning of May I have been working with Perry in the sidecar, and so far he has taken to it like a duck to water. I'm guessing the hound in him gives him a work drive, and he listens to me (sort of) most of the time (usually) - I have been working with him off-leash and his recall is good but nowhere near perfect.
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So far we've put about 500km on the clock, both daytime and nightime, sunshine and rain. We've been on slow backroads and busy highways and his behavior has been consistent. I even took him off road at Turkey Bay in Land Between the Lakes, KY.
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I think the off-roading scared him; he was reluctant to get back into the car after he hopped out on the trail. On the way home he scared me by hopping out after I came to a stop at a busy intersection; I should never have trusted him to stay in the car.

My harness went through a number of development stages, but I eventually settled on a 2-dog leash bolted to clips around behind the seat. I also attached a plastic s-biner between the ring and Perry's harness clip that will hopefully break away if there's a big enough impact. The harness proved its worth and necessity on the very next ride - after slamming on the brakes to avoid a vehicle that turned in front of me, Perry found himself nearly slung out of the front the car. Had he not had his harness leashed to the hack he could very well have been injured or killed by simple hard braking.

Our progress continues, and an overnight sidecar camping trip is the next phase in Perry's conditioning. Memorial Day weekend seems like the perfect opportunity to test out the rig, gear and pup all in one!
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Last edited by DammitDan on Wed May 31, 2017 2:11 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Dammit, Dan!
Clarksville, TN

Current Bikes
2016 Ural Gear Up
2006 Kawaski ZG1000 Concours "The Racing Mule"

Former Bikes
1980 Yamaha XS850 triple
1976 Honda GL1000 Goldwing
1981 Yamaha XS650 twin cafe bike
1983 Honda CB650 four aka The Redheaded Stepchild

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Re: Adventures with Perry

Post by Mr Wazzock » Wed May 31, 2017 2:02 pm

Wow! :bow:
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Re: Adventures with Perry

Post by co_g30 » Wed May 31, 2017 3:10 pm

no hits on SidecarHound or @SidecarHound on FB?
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Re: Adventures with Perry

Post by DammitDan » Wed May 31, 2017 6:38 pm

The page is "Adventures with Perry"... if you search for that phrase it should pop up.

Edit: better yet, here's a link :oops: https://www.facebook.com/SidecarHound
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Dammit, Dan!
Clarksville, TN

Current Bikes
2016 Ural Gear Up
2006 Kawaski ZG1000 Concours "The Racing Mule"

Former Bikes
1980 Yamaha XS850 triple
1976 Honda GL1000 Goldwing
1981 Yamaha XS650 twin cafe bike
1983 Honda CB650 four aka The Redheaded Stepchild

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Re: Adventures with Perry

Post by co_g30 » Wed May 31, 2017 6:48 pm

the newer link worked, thanks.
CO_G30
2014 Ural Patrol "Scarlett"
1999 Ural Patrol "Fiona" with '84 R80 engine.
1987 BMW R80 "Brigitta"
2006 Yamaha TW200 "Yagi"
http://redlegsrides.blogspot.com
https://www.facebook.com/redlegsrides

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Re: Adventures with Perry

Post by sagerat » Wed May 31, 2017 7:00 pm

Happy trails! I enjoyed "Travels" when I read it decades ago, even more than "Jupiter" which is sacrilege, I know.

Baxter woofs his best to Perry.
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Re: Adventures with Perry

Post by Ltrypsin » Wed May 31, 2017 7:13 pm

Nothing more fun then traveling with your pup.
I also ended up taking the seat out. Both back and bottom and put a bed in. Made his day.
I taken mine on the back roads as well. I ended up with a different harness. Only because of short stops and jerks.
I used this harness . Worked much better .
http://www.ruffwear.com/Products/dog_harnesses
Oliver out grew his and it may fit your pup. If your interested just PM me an address and I'll mail it to you. It's just taking up space going to waste in my garage.
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Re: Adventures with Perry

Post by shanecostarica » Tue Oct 10, 2017 11:20 am

I do some work with a company that produces Dog Harnesses http://store.ezydog.com/categories/dog-harnesses/. They're especially well-known for their products that keep your pooch happy and safe in the car, it might be worth checking it out to see if they have something that could address your needs:

Dog Car Harness - http://store.ezydog.com/dog-car-harness/
Dog Seat Belt - http://store.ezydog.com/click-adjustable-car-restraint/

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Re: Adventures with Perry

Post by RedOCtober » Tue Oct 10, 2017 2:05 pm

Cool dog, but for some reason I was expecting a Platypus.
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DammitDan
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Adventures with Perry

Post by DammitDan » Sun Feb 18, 2018 2:57 pm

Day 1

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My first stop for the trip was to visit my barber Donny. I always wait until the last minute to get my hair cut prior to a big trip... I've found that keeping short hair for as long as possible ultimately leads to more comfort in unpleasantly warm climates. As a bonus, my helmet and fabric boonie hat fit better when I have short hair.

After a quick trim I was off on a round of visiting family before I took the plunge into the unknown. My family has always been a foundation in my life - seeing as how I was about to embark on a motorcycle journey crisscrossing the United States, it seemed appropriate for me to visit them all again before riding into the sunset. My father and his fiancé Vanna live just on the other side of Clarksville, so I steered the rig across the river and headed south down TN-48. I arrived just in time to interrupt a morning conference call my dad was participating in, but he took the time to come outside with Vanna for a round of hugs and to see us off.

Our next stopover sent us down TN-96 to visit my sister (and Perry’s mama) Jessica in Murfreesboro. I adopted Perry back in December of 2016 after bonding with him while I lived there for a time, and I like to take the opportunity to let him run around the house he grew up in. Both of Jessica’s boys were away at camp for the week and her husband Jake had just gone to work, so I didn't get to see as much of the family as I had planned... but I did get to play with their recently acquired lab/shepherd puppy Olivia (Livvy), and Perry got to take a break in the air conditioning while Jess and I chatted in the kitchen. After a cold glass of water, Perry and I were loaded back onto the rig and Jessica snapped a great picture of us just before we backed out of the driveway and headed on.

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From there Perry and I continued east up TN-96 towards Gainesboro to spend the night at my sister Elizabeth's house. We pulled into their drive at just past 4... Perry and I had made pretty good time all things considered. Liz wasn't home from grocery shopping yet, so Perry and I hung out with her husband Cory in his air conditioned motorcycle man cave (in the barn, of course). When Liz arrived Cory and I unpacked the groceries and I got to continue relaxing in the air conditioning and chatting with Liz while she cooked a delicious homemade ratatouille.

Liz and Cory’s 7-year-old son was currently in Pennsylvania visiting his grandmother so I sadly wouldn't get a chance to visit with him, and my step-niece Millie would be coming home late after her second shift job summer job. I wouldn't get to see her until the morning, but at least I would get to visit one of the kids before heading out!

Liz and Cory and I had a good time watching Hulu and relaxing in their living room, and long after the sun went down we called it a night. I settled down into my nephew’s slightly-too-short bed upstairs (it's for a seven year old, what should I expect?) but I certainly couldn't complain; I wouldn't be sleeping in too many actual beds for the next three months, so I relished the opportunity to stretch out (mostly) under the covers.

In the morning Liz prepared a big breakfast with eggs and muffins and fakon (fake bacon)... she was worried about my upcoming protein intake. I understood her concern - I'm not the greatest campsite cook, as most of my "cooking" is limited to either boiling water to rehydrate freeze-dried camp food or boiling water to make noodles n' sauce. Neither of these offer much of what is required for a balanced diet and my loving sister doesn't want me to end up withered from a protein deficiency; I enjoyed the breakfast she prepared with gusto and thanks.

Perry and I remounted the sidecar around 10:30am, and after farewells to Liz, Cory and Millie we headed down the road to our final overnight bed stop for a while to come - 130 miles of travel before arriving in Knoxville to visit for the evening with my grandfather. From there I'll head North toward Abingdon VA, where the adventure really begins.


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Last edited by DammitDan on Sun Feb 18, 2018 3:30 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Dammit, Dan!
Clarksville, TN

Current Bikes
2016 Ural Gear Up
2006 Kawaski ZG1000 Concours "The Racing Mule"

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1980 Yamaha XS850 triple
1976 Honda GL1000 Goldwing
1981 Yamaha XS650 twin cafe bike
1983 Honda CB650 four aka The Redheaded Stepchild

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Adventures with Perry

Post by DammitDan » Sun Feb 18, 2018 3:11 pm

Day 2

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The GPS directed us off the main highway fairly soon after leaving Liz and Cory's house. We made our way east following Flynn's creek and soon enough I spotted a pair of jeep tracks leading down to a shady spot beside the water. I parked the Ural and Perry hopped out for a wade and a drink. The air was significantly less muggy next to the shaded creek, and Perry wasn't keen on leaving so soon... but with some gentle persuasion he recognized our urgency to stay on schedule and loaded up reluctantly. We had another 200 miles to go on hilly backroads and highways as we climbed to our first camp at the eastern foot of the Appalachians.

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In the meantime, I split my time between piloting the Ural, scratching Perry behind the ears and obsessively glancing down at the bike's final drive in the rear wheel every 90 seconds. Cory had spotted a potentially disastrous oil leak around the final drive hub while I was getting the bike packed up earlier in the morning, and after checking the final drive's oil level - a little low - I wanted to keep a close eye on things.

By midday the heat and humidity had forced us into the shade again; Perry was drooling and panting hard in the hot sun and I wasn't faring much better, so I pulled off the highway at the next spot that offered shade and a little seclusion for Perry to roam. I parked on the side of a one-lane road and set Perry free. After a long drink he found a cool spot next to a drainage pipe and plunked down in the overgrowth. I took several long swigs of cold water from the bubba jug, checked over the luggage to make sure everything was still secure and checked the final drive level again just in case... things still looked good.

As I got up from checking the final drive, I noticed an older man walking up the road toward us with two bottles of water in one hand and a pie tin in the other. He introduced himself as George Tripp and said he had noticed us from his house up the hill thought Perry and I might like some cold water on an especially hot day. I accepted and thanked him wholeheartedly; the generosity of strangers across all of my travels has never ceased to amaze me. George and I chatted for a bit - it turns out his granddaughter is also an aspiring writer - and he offered a piece of valuable advice: Be friendly and kind to the strangers you meet, but don't trust anybody. Words to live by on the road.

The hills leading into Oak Ridge proved a real test of the Ural with a full load, but it performed above my expectations. I stopped again in the grass alongside a quiet stretch of residential road to let Perry stretch his legs and get a drink of water, and while I was there I had two visitors - a white work truck pulled up soon after I stopped and Brad got out to make sure everything was okay. We talked for a few minutes about the bike and the upcoming trip, and I found out that his blood runs deep in the southern Appalachians; his great-great-great-great-great grandfather was the founder of a town about 60 miles south called Tellico Plains (the eastern terminus of the Cherohala Skyway, one of my favorite scenic roads in the South), and he grew up surrounded by the history of his family - including his g*5 grandfather’s flintlock musket. I can appreciate that kind of tight-knit heritage as it’s not something you see very often these days, especially since many families have spread out geographically as easy and affordable travel became a part of our culture. After taking a few minutes and to chat and snapping a photo of Perry and me, Brad headed on home from work.

Not long after Brad pulled away a golf cart pulled out of the driveway of the tidy home I was parked in front of; it turned toward us and came rolling up the hill towards our spot on the side of the quiet road. The cart pulled a u-turn and came alongside the rig, and the driver admired the Ural as he introduced himself as Chris. He just wanted to come out and make sure everything was okay since he had seen the work truck stop and stay for a while… he also offered me a cold drink or some food if I would like. I was struck again by the generosity of the rural southern communities I had stopped through, and I thanked him but I was planning on having some dinner in just a little while. I especially appreciated the fact that Chris came out to check on things because of the reason why he was driving the golf cart - he had recently had surgery on his leg, and it was propped immobile with a brace. That means he made the probably painful and laborious effort to come all the way out to us simply to ask if I needed anything (and also maybe to also look at my super cool motorcycle and my awesome dog, but I like to think it's mostly the former). He also took a photo of us parked along the road in front of his house.

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After saying farewell to Chris, I gave my grandfather a call to let him know I would be there in less than an hour, and Perry and I headed on to his house in Knoxville in the late afternoon. John Steinbeck and his dog Charley came up past the Smokey Mountains on the eastern side of the Appalachians, so the fact that Knoxville was smack in the path of where I was headed was good fortune. I wanted to take the opportunity to see Granddaddy before heading off towards Virginia; he turned 90 just a few weeks ago and is still feeling great. Perry passed out on the living room floor while he and I talked about the trip and his new treatment… we spent an hour catching up and remembering together. The time came when I needed to be headed on to the campsite if I was going to make it before dark; then Granddaddy offered to let me stay there for the night, and to seal the deal he would take me out for a good steak dinner. It was an offer that I couldn't refuse.

Perry was left to sleep on the floor while we drove to eat at the Texas Roadhouse just a few miles from the house. We took the car - he said that one sidecar ride in a lifetime was enough for him - and we both ordered the thick cut 8oz. New York strip and talked about my plans for maintenance and parts, and even some potential plans for future trips. Perry was happy to see us when we got home, and I took him outside for one last potty break before bed. We would be waking up early the next morning; to make up for the lost miles between Knoxville and the campsite my aim was to leave by 8am. Granddaddy promised to share his self-designed oatmeal preparation techniques before so left in the morning, and with that to look forward to I snuggled my last bed for a while to come.


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Dammit, Dan!
Clarksville, TN

Current Bikes
2016 Ural Gear Up
2006 Kawaski ZG1000 Concours "The Racing Mule"

Former Bikes
1980 Yamaha XS850 triple
1976 Honda GL1000 Goldwing
1981 Yamaha XS650 twin cafe bike
1983 Honda CB650 four aka The Redheaded Stepchild

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DammitDan
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Adventures with Perry

Post by DammitDan » Sun Feb 18, 2018 3:17 pm

Day 3

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Perry and I were up by 7 the next morning, and after a quick shower - my last one for the next week - I headed upstairs to join my grandfather for breakfast. He presented me with his ideal morning meal… a combination of cinnamon raisin oatmeal, sugar (preferably molasses), and water, with applesauce spread on top and a ring of orange juice poured around the edge of the bowl - all cooked in the microwave for three minutes. Upon seeing the concoction I had my doubts, but I didn't want to disappoint Granddaddy so I started in on my meal. It had an odd mixing sweet and bitter, and the texture was somehow simultaneously soupy and gelatinous. I asked why he liked it and found it's because he finds it easy to eat… I hadn't considered that a 90-year-old’s palate isn't likely to coincide with a 34-year-old’s tastes. I spooned down two-thirds of the bowl before I pushed it away, and Granddaddy and I headed back downstairs to pack up the bike. With my thanks and a farewell hug from Granddaddy, Perry and I were on the road again by 8:30am.

We headed down US-441 towards Sevierville with the morning sun rising above the Smokey Mountains. The air had turned muggy and hot by late morning, and as we skirted the western foot of the southern Appalachians I spotted a sign for the “David Crockett Birthplace State Park”. I took the opportunity for us to take a break from the sun and we checked out the re-creation of the homestead where Davy Crockett was raised. The tiny mud-daubed cabin was nestled beside the lazy Nolichucky river, and Perry took the opportunity for a quick wade in the cool water. Then he wandered till he found a nice spot on the shaded hill leading to the homestead, flopped in the green undergrowth and quickly fell asleep. I took the time to catch up on my notes, but we couldn't stay for long at the park; it was approaching 1pm and we still had nearly 130 miles to go.

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Perry reluctantly loaded back up following his rude awakening and we headed on through Johnson City and Bristol toward the Virginia state line. As we approached Abingdon I noticed a curious shift in the houses I passed - they seemed older and more established, almost more stately in appearance. Abingdon was a beautiful town with a still-thriving Main Street, and Perry stood in the car and entertained the pedestrians as we passed. John Steinbeck passed through Abingdon on the final week of his trip, exhausted and wanting to be home again; while Abingdon may have been the emotional end-point for Steinbeck and Charley, it was MY jumping-off point. Abingdon had long been marked as our first intersection with the original Travels with Charley roadmap, so finally passing through the city filled me with anticipation of what was to come. Our experience had been wonderful so far, and I hoped the trend would continue.

We turned east down US-58 just past Abingdon and headed into the mountains to find our first campsite for the trip. While planning our route I used a website, freecampsites.net, to find many of the places we would be squatting at across the United States. I've used the website to camp at dozens of places in past trips, and it has only seldom led me wrong. The road got progressively curvier as we climbed toward the turn-off point, and with four miles remaining, Scenic (my navigation app) directed us off the highway and onto a rocky gravel road.

There were a number of trucks parked with horse trailers attached in the grassy meadow to the right, and to my left read a large intimidating sign with white lettering: "Forest Service Protection Road - Road Not Suitable For Passenger Vehicles." I didn't know whether the sign meant that the road ahead was too rough for ordinary highway vehicles, or if it meant that ONLY forest service vehicles were allowed because it was a protected forest road. After quick consideration - and the assumption that it was unlikely that I would run into any forest service vehicles in the next four miles - I assumed that the sign meant the former and Perry and I continued on.

The rocky pea gravel soon transitioned to deep rock gravel that made the rig slide and sway as it churned through. Then the gravel disappeared and I found myself driving on a single-lane jeep trail littered with rocks the size of footballs. I glanced down at the GPS - still 3.5 miles to go. I flipped up my face shield and sun shade, reached down to engage the 2-wheel-drive lever and stood up on the pegs to see what the fully-loaded Ural could do.

I picked my way across the trail as it curved and climbed up the mountain, trying my best to dodge the biggest rocks with the front tire while also keeping eye on what was in front of the sidecar tire three feet to my right. My Ural “Gear-Up” has a good amount of ground clearance - between 7-10" - so I tried to keep the worst of the trip-ending rocks centered under the rig. It took all of my focus to maintain a balance of engine speed, precise steering and watching the road ahead to plan my path.

After a half-mile of driving (at 15-20mph) I was momentarily distracted by the first switchback coming up; the rig strayed a bit too far to the left and I heard - and felt - a loud "CLANG! POP POP POP POP POP..." I looked down in alarm and saw I had clipped a rock that knocked the left muffler from the exhaust header pipe. I pulled the rig to a stop and killed the engine, uttered a few unpleasantries and got down to look at the damage. Things weren't bad; the tip of a rock had caught on the flange of the exhaust clamp and pushed the whole muffler back to dangle from its frame mount. It wouldn't be a difficult fix - I was tired from driving in the southern heat and humidity all day, but with the right tools it wouldn't take more than ten minutes to repair.

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As I got back to my feet I heard an engine approaching up past the switchback, and my heart sank as a forest service truck pulled around the bend and came to a stop. I prepared myself to be in trouble for incorrectly interpreting the sign, and waved as I began walking toward the truck. A forest service ranger in his late 20s got out and said excitedly as he waved back, "Is that a Ural?!"

"Yeah, I managed to knock off the muffler on a rock back there..." He said the road was pretty bad ahead, but that it wasn't any worse than what we had already come through. We talked about the rig for a bit; he said he never would have thought to see one coming up that road. It was only after he had wished us well and continued on down the mountain that I knew for certain I hadn't broken any rules, and after giving the bike a few more minutes to cool down I got to work fixing the broken muffler.

The Ural's tool roll is impressive as-is... some semi-sarcastically say it is the best feature on the bike. I have added a number of tools that I would be needing for the trip - oil filter wrench, vise grips, zip-ties - and some others to ease the effort of repairs - tire mounting tools, ratcheting box-end wrenches, heavy work gloves (for handing hot engine parts), a big hammer (for smashing things in a tantrum)... as an additional bonus, the extra weight of all the tools I added doubles as ballast to keep the sidecar wheel firmly planted on the ground.

Soon enough I had the muffler repaired, and with Perry back in his cockpit we continued up the mountain. Less than half a mile later, another distraction and "CLANG! POP POP POP POP POP..." I simultaneously groaned and laughed at my incompetence in driving the Ural up rocky roads. Upon unfurling my tool roll I found the tool I had used to bend the tang on the top of the muffler back into place was missing... I had left my vise grips back at the first switchback. I cursed myself and resorted to working with my pliers, burning my wrist on the hot header more than once. A couple groups of horseback riders passed by as I worked, and both Perry and the rig were showered with compliments. I got the muffler remounted and we continued on our way - albeit much more cautiously from then on.

Less than a quarter-mile from the campsite I knocked the left muffler off AGAIN. It was just too much. Holding the scalding muffler with the tip of my boot to keep it from digging into the ground, I pushed my now obnoxiously loud Ural the final quarter mile up the road to The Scales. We pulled through a swinging gate into a meadow completely enclosed by ancient wood fencing. In one corner of the meadow stood a very nice (recently constructed) outhouse with 12' iron vent pipes and a covered concrete porch, with a path leading to a few horse posts outside the fence. There also stood a number of squat shrubby trees nearby, none of which were close enough together to hang a hammock between them. After some quick improvisation in the fading sunlight I hung my hammock in the most unique way yet - one end strapped to a shrub tree growing against the fence, the other tied to one of the iron vent stacks attached to the rear of the outhouse.

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Perry and I, both exhausted from the day's 185 mile drive and repeated repairs, settled in as dusk fell and we were soon both fast asleep, him splayed in his folding kennel and me resting in my very first outhouse hammock.


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Last edited by DammitDan on Wed Feb 21, 2018 8:13 pm, edited 4 times in total.
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Dammit, Dan!
Clarksville, TN

Current Bikes
2016 Ural Gear Up
2006 Kawaski ZG1000 Concours "The Racing Mule"

Former Bikes
1980 Yamaha XS850 triple
1976 Honda GL1000 Goldwing
1981 Yamaha XS650 twin cafe bike
1983 Honda CB650 four aka The Redheaded Stepchild

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