2012.08.13 - What a blow-out!

Don't try this at home friends.  I'm a trained professional. . .

I managed to get every last bit of rubber off the pusher tire that came with my Ural Gear Up.  Of course, I was only about two miles from home this afternoon when the death knell sounded.  Pop!  Wheeze!  And it was down for the count.

OK I thought, I've got a spare.  That's one of the good things about a Ural.  Things aren't too bad.  I remembered that getting the bike on the center stand is not fun.  That's why I used to carry a small bottle jack in the trunk.  Of course, when I sold my old 2003 Patrol a couple of years back, the bottle jack went along with it.  Today it was the center stand and nothing but the center stand.  I thought I was slick when I positioned the bike facing up an incline.  It was still a grunt to roll it back on the center stand, but it was up.

I haven't changed a Ural tire in at least 4 years, so I had my first fit before I remembered that the special oil filter wrench is also the special rear axle nut wrench on the two wheel drive Ural bikes.  It was a struggle to get the cotter pin out too of course.  Then I rediscovered that the center stand is not high enough to be able to roll the tire out from under the fender.  (Note to IMWA, the Ural Oracle, three words: Hinged rear fender.  Come on, BMW did it in the 1930's. . .)  So, unbelievably, the Gear Up's shovel saved me for a second time in the space of two weeks.  I got to work chopping the hard dirt and rocks away from under the rear tire.  If you ever wondered why they call these hills the "Rocky Mountains", I can tell you why.  It took almost 15 minutes of chopping before I was able to squeeze the tire out.  And Bob's your uncle!  I thought. . .

All dug out, nowhere yet to go.  How do you like the fuzzy cell phone camera effects?

Just a couple of minutes more digging allowed me to get the spare tire into the same space that the flat one had been.  Guess all that air in there makes it a bit bigger.  Wheel on.  Axle on.  Axle nut tightened.  No cotter pin, but its only two miles or so to home.  I put all the tools away, put my riding gear back on and kick the bike to life.  She won't move too far with the pusher wheel off the ground, so I cleverly slipped her into two wheel drive.  Unfortunately, the sidecar wheel just didn't have enough grip to get the bike moving back up the incline.  She just spun a little to the left and the sidecar wheel started to dig a hole.

Ah, fun and games.  I spent the next few minutes trying to dig the center stand out in the hopes of popping it up.  I even contemplated leaving the motor running, the bike in gear--in two wheel drive--and pulling on the front fender's grab bar.  I figured that might possibly end nastily.  I reconsidered.  Brute force was obviously the answer, so a few more minutes of bouncing, and pulling, and grunting, basically left me breathless and no closer to home.  Then salvation arrived in the guise of a local bicyclist who happened by and offered to help.  With him pushing and me pulling we got it off the center stand and I was them able to power out of the little trench I had dug.

After a thanks from me, the cyclist went on his way and I pulled out onto the tarmac for those last few miles home.  Holy Cow!  I couldn't believe how the bike was handling.  It became an entirely different beast with the change of the tire.  The bike seemed to have a mind of its own!  It didn't want to steer left, and was scary going right.  I never experienced this on my old Patrol the many times I changed its tires.  I even thought for a second that maybe my spare wheel didn't have any bearings in it and it was wobbling around.  A quick look down showed a cleanly rotating tire.  I checked the tire pressure and adjusted it to 40psi right after I mounted it on the bike.  The old flat pusher was a Duro, the spare tire a Uralshina.  Different cross sections, but I didn't think it would make such a big difference.

I don't know what's going on there.  For this evening, I've had enough bike wrestling.  I'll look at it tomorrow.  I guess my forlorn BMW F650 will get a ride tomorrow.  It's been lonely since I brought the Ural home two weeks ago.

Oh, if only those last few inches of rear fender were somehow removable. . .