[MINI] Travel in the Urals to Novosibirsk.

After quite a long time, I decided to take charge of myself and write an article about how my friend and I went to Novosibirsk in the Urals) The trip was not an easy one, but at the same time very, very interesting and exciting for us, about what happened to us what happened on the P-254 highway, what difficulties we had to face, what we saw, and where we were, all this is in this article. I would like to make a reservation right away, this article probably does not mean that I will fully return to Moto2 and continue with the same tenacity to write 3 articles a week, no, I have reasons because of which I am unlikely to I’ll come back here in full, but still, this journey is, after all, my friend and I’s story, which I would like to leave somewhere, and I think that Moto2 is the most relevant platform today. Okay, enough of the lyrical digressions, let's go.

In general, like all people, of course, I watch YouTube, I watch many bloggers, among them there are very interesting people, people who, despite everyone and everything, are not afraid, are not afraid to travel on equipment that they made themselves. Using a technique that has been around for decades, these people, with incredible energy within themselves, gave me a direction that I still follow to this day. One of these people is Alexander Shut, aka MotoSancho. I’ve always been amazed by how persistently this guy goes towards his goal, seriously, to drive 15,000 km on our Soviet boxer, from Gomel straight to Lake Baikal, these are strong comrades, and driving with a friend to Novosibirsk, we were convinced of this more than once. It was very interesting for me to watch Sasha’s journey, however, the man not only tells and shows how to make the Urals more reliable, beautiful and functional, but also shares his impressions and experience of how it all works, charges him with incredible energy and the desire to do what -not ordinary, looking at his journey, and drooling at my monitor in the cold winter, a spark jumped inside me, which ignited a fire inside. I told myself, in the summer of 2021 I will also do something similar.

No, I, as an ordinary motorcyclist, of course, did not dare to go to Baikal; my lack of experience in terms of motorcycle travel will not allow me to do this, but a round-trip distance of 700 km, which adds up to 1400 km, is what I need for the first experience.

In general, of course, it is necessary to make a reservation that it was not only YouTube that gave birth to the idea of traveling on a motorcycle with a sidecar, no, watching the video certainly instilled in me most of the desire, but even before YouTube I had my own, inner desire to go somewhere further my home district, I’ve been on two wheels since I was 9 years old, and believe me, after 12 years, I get tired of the same routes, I want to learn something new for myself.

The beginning has been made, but what next? And then I began to think about who to take with me, not to say that I was afraid to go alone, no, my friends who know my nature will say that I’m still that crazy crazy guy, and sometimes such thoughts come into my head, from which would make a normal person’s hair stand on end) I didn’t need the second number for “safety” on the road, the second number was needed, first of all, for communication on the road, and only then for help and other important factors, however, to travel 700 km , at a speed of 72 km/h, that’s another activity) And I, as a person who loves communication, probably couldn’t stand it alone)

Long thoughts began about who to take with me, and then I remembered my friend Sashka. Sashka, like me, is not an ordinary guy, despite his rather young age (17 years old). Sashka, like me, loved to think about unusual things, he was also drawn to beauty, drawn to go somewhere, to think about something, something... then to do, I knew that only he could support such an unusual idea, to travel on a Soviet boxer over such a distance, and yes, I was not even surprised that after I shared the idea with Sashka, he immediately gave the go-ahead. Also, a significant role was played by the fact that at the age of 17, Sashka had not been anywhere in particular, I wanted to show the young boy at least some part of our vast homeland, maybe not the Ural mountains, but still at least something, so that later, after a while, when he is old, he will have something to tell his grandchildren about how my friend and I drove to Novosib in the Urals) This is a story that has the right to exist in our heads. I even covered the main expenses myself, I don’t feel sorry, honestly, in life I adhere to the principle of doing good and helping people, albeit not as a help bureau, but at least somehow. I never stop believing in people, that’s how I was raised. After thinking about it and talking about all the “household” matters, we began to prepare. I won’t write here about how I prepared the motorcycle, there’s enough information there for another article, maybe someday I’ll force myself to write about that too... I hope so. I’d rather tell you about something else, about what we took with us, what we were preparing for, etc.

MotoSancho has covered this issue more than once on his channel, but still, my motorcycle is different from Sasha Shut’s motorcycle, and in general, the Ural and the Ural are different, so of course I listened to Sancho’s advice, but also added something of my own.

We took with us almost the entire garage of all kinds of keys, hammers, screwdrivers, etc., we just couldn’t imagine what could happen to us on the road, not that I wasn’t confident in my stroller, no, the road is such a thing, never you don’t know what awaits you there, ahead, and in the end, not only can something go wrong with you on the way, there are plenty of people on the road besides ourselves who may need help, so almost ALL of the trunk space is in the stroller was occupied by tools and spare parts, as it turns out later, this is superfluous. More on this below. Next, a large part was occupied by food, things and equipment. equipment, camera, chargers, batteries, headphones, etc., for these technical little things I bought a tank bag from Scoyco, an indispensable thing when traveling, it helps to unload useful space in the stroller and in the panniers, the latter, by the way, I did not install, because There is enough space, I have a SideCar, after all) I need to use it. A set of tools was thrown at Sashka’s feet, turtles were also thrown there when it got hot, as well as replacement shoes, etc., a person with experience in traveling is now reading this and laughing his head off) Now it’s funny to me too) But then, to us It seemed like we were almost going to war, and we tried to plan for everything that came to mind. Also, I would like to share one good life hack, if you don’t have money for equipment that protects you from the rain, ordinary stretch film can work for these purposes, it’s cheap and cheerful, you wrap yourself in it like a spider’s web, and move on) It’s good for us Fortunately, it never came in handy, but the fact that we had it with us gave us peace of mind.

Still, I think something needs to be said, and the first and only thing I would like to mention here is wind protection, if you don’t have it, don’t even think about driving for distances of more than 100 km, fuck yourself from the flow air from trucks, and simply from the wind. For me, this was a whole epic, because not all windmills were installed on my motorcycle, with a handlebar from the Ural Wolf. The only thing that really suited me was a tent windmill, which I bought for 3,000 rubles. new from storage, I’m wildly infuriated by how the Ural looks with it, but it served its function, so it was decided to leave it. In general, I put the entire motorcycle in complete order, hung a canister for 10 additional liters, filled the tank full, checked all the oils, which, by the way, you should definitely take with you in reserve, washed everything, hung up the luggage racks to further unload the internal space of the stroller, I equipped the motorcycle and we were ready to start. The launch was scheduled for the early morning of July 6.

On the morning of July 6, they promised beautiful weather, clear, the sun was favorable to go and rejoice, the only thing that didn’t suit me was the incredible heat of 29 degrees, for Sasha and me it’s a thrill, but for the Urals it’s not very good, to put it mildly, it’s cooling it was airy, from the oncoming air flow, all this, in a cube with a curb weight exceeding half a ton, alarmed me to grab a grip somewhere, then everyone arrived, and purely for themselves it’s unpleasant, they’ll also laugh at home, by the way, about it.

Despite Sasha and I’s rather bold idea, almost all of our friends and relatives did not support our idea. No one believed that we would finish the meal without breaking down, or that we would finish the meal at all, my best friend and my father teased me, saying that they had prepared a rope for us, we would just have to wait, and they would definitely drag us in... ha ha ha funny, o** It's easy to give a shit. Similar jokes flew at us from all the mouths of our friends and acquaintances, but this did not stop me, I always said, and I will not tire of saying, I am sure that I collected MYSELF. And as it turns out later, Sasha and I will laugh. What was going on in my friend Sashka’s head at that moment, what he was thinking about, I could only guess, at the end of our journey, he admitted, they say, “Zheka, I honestly wasn’t sure that we would even leave the aisles of our district, I’m sorry, but these thoughts really couldn’t get out of my head,” Sashka told me. And I understand him, traveling such a distance in the Urals with a stroller loaded for dumping is really an abnormal idea, but I am still grateful to my friend that he didn’t bother to go with me and didn’t refuse me. Thanks friend, I appreciate it.

The morning of July 6 came, it was 6 am, I was already on my feet inspecting the motorcycle, hanging up the last necessary things, calling Sashka, he didn’t answer, could he have fallen asleep, I was in a panic, how could it be (Sashka loves to sleep), I was ready to go to him home, my foot was already on the kick starter, and my hand turned the key to the “ON” position. As someone knocked on the garage door with their hands, I exhaled, Sashka arrived on a bike) Sharing our emotions with a friend, we began to inspect the motorcycle together, and make final preparations. After about 30 minutes everything was ready, it was 7 am, my Mom came out to see us off, we took the last photo from the beginning of the journey, and the start was given.

Already after 3 km, it began to feel like it was not easy for the motorcycle, the barely run-in engine was simply going crazy from the load, it was only 7:09 and the air temperature was already 20+, near the village of “Maloomka” a little smoke came from the breather, I became worry, Sashka looked at me from the stroller, smiled, turned his head, like, “Well, bitch, we’ll get there anyway,” this gave me even more confidence that we are really crazy guys) By the way, we also took a digital thermometer with us, which we used every minute, checking the temperature of each cylinder, here we need to make a reservation that under our conditions, the exhaust temperature is 180+, this is generally the norm, looking ahead, a spoiler, that then the temperature reached 207) This, of course, bothered me, and Looking at Sashka, I saw some kind of excitement in his eyes, and we crossed a railroad crossing and found ourselves on the P-254 highway. Sasha was delighted, and I was no less.

By the way, it should be noted that at the beginning of the journey, we stopped almost every 25 km, later I will still get used to the fact that a pace of 180+ is the norm, and our stops will be every 40-50 km, but still I felt sorry motor, and I couldn't help it. After 10 minutes of parking, we headed out. Meanwhile, the 19 wheels of the Urals carried us forward, every second bringing us closer to the goal. After already 100 km, I began to feel in my head all the charm of my new direct flows produced by KBMTS, guys, never, never drive over distances with direct flows, or you, like me, will have this bass hum for another 2 weeks after the trip in my head)

After another 100 km, I began to feel tired at the 5th point, the Ural saddle is, of course, much more comfortable than the CB400 saddle, but still the 5th point stiffens no less, only later, I thought of putting the bag back and securing it with flexible cables, thereby creating a support for my back, but nothing, plugging an earphone into my right ear to at least somehow diversify the sounds surrounding me at those moments, we drove on. After 400 km of travel, I was tired.

Honestly, I'm very tired. I’m tired of the roar of direct currents, of the sounds that accompany the Urals when moving, it’s impossible to describe it, comrades) If you have no experience of driving in the Urals, you won’t understand) Sashka couldn’t find a place for himself in the stroller, every minute he was stuck trying to find a place for him. I was in at least some kind of comfortable position, I was actually shocked that he hadn’t jumped the hell out of this stroller yet, because the Ural stroller is still a “comfortable” place, not to mention the original factory saddle, it’s truly terrifying .

Having driven most of the way, we stopped at a cafe, a little later a guy arrived in a brand new Africa, and what do you think? Did she have all the attention? Not at all) I was wildly surprised at how people reacted to my Ural, in general, after 3 years of ownership, I had already developed an immunity to these “Oohs” and “Aahs” of passers-by, but what was going on at the cafe then, and in general at all public stops on our way, it was something, a ring of grown men was created around the motorcycle, with only one question: “Are they still being produced?”, at first I said it as it is, no, it’s a restored motorcycle, I listed all the improvements, how and how much, but then I was just tired, and my answer was simple - “Yes, they are releasing.”

We drove 550 km, my face at a halt, it looked as if I was galloping on a camel to Novosibirsk, Sashka’s face looked no better, but we were overwhelmed with all the emotions, we looked at each other and repeated every time: “Man, we Let’s do it!” The distance covered gave us strength and hope that we would actually cover 700 km in a day, and as it turned out, that’s exactly what happened.

We didn’t go into Novosibirsk itself, we drove around it a little to the north and stopped at my sister’s dacha, where my relatives and girlfriend were already waiting for us, that moment, their faces, when we arrived at the gates of the dacha, I will remember them for the rest of my life) , just like I was overwhelmed with emotions, like, FUCK IT! In the Urals?! You guys are crazy!) But we did it! We were actually able to get from our Nizhnyaya Omka region to Novosibirsk in the Urals! And all this in 14 hours! My hands were shaking and my legs were giving way, the sensation at the 5th point was as if the blood flow there had completely stopped) It’s good that our friends took care of a good bathhouse, cold beer and good company, my sister’s dacha had a very cool location, it was located right on the banks of the Ob River. We immediately took a steam bath in the bathhouse, drank a liter of beer and rushed to swim, it was an indescribable thrill! I read shock in the eyes of my friend) It was the first time he had moved so far, but on what?! In the Urals with a stroller!) He was positive, so was I, we had a good chat with people and went to sleep in tents, yes, exactly in tents) The fact is that there were not so many places at the dacha, the guys took care and set up us a tent, but we had our own, in the end we set it up 2) As I fell asleep, I couldn’t believe that I had done it, I thought for a long time that it was possible to actually get there on our boxer without breaking down, without incident, I was shocked by the very myself)

Having stayed in the “capital” of Siberia, after 3 days, it was time to go home, we began to get ready for the journey, nothing special, we were no longer in the first place, the only thing that Sasha and I immediately decided was that we were going at 5 in the morning, it was cool. The path from the dacha passed by beautiful, beautiful places. We were surrounded by beautiful, tall spruce trees, as well as the morning fog and the beautiful starry sky creating a simply unique sensation! I have never felt as wonderful and cool in my life as I did at that moment.

Unfortunately, we didn’t take more than one photograph of those beautiful places, either we were sleepy, or admiration overshadowed our minds at that moment, I don’t know, but something like this...

The only thing that worried me was the wild cold, the motorcycle was just wonderful, the pace did not rise above 155 degrees, but Sasha and I were not so comfortable, we were freezing, after 40 km, traffic police officers stopped us, checked our documents, talked and wished us good journey, “I also had a Ural, right now it’s standing in the village with my grandfather, I need to get it too,” said the junior lieutenant) We caught tongues a little and talked about general things) The Ural brings us closer together After some time, they once again wished us smooth roads, having warmed up, we set off. Then, we drove 200 km without a single stop, my back began to remember the road here, and began to “cry” again, we stopped on the side of the road to rest, and meanwhile the air temperature began to rise again, the stops returned again after 40 km. Despite this, we continued our journey, after 400 km, I noticed that some kind of extraneous knock appeared, in fact it was there before, but at high speeds, at speeds above 80 km, but here it seemed like 72 km/h, and again he, I began to become wary. After some time, we stopped for a rest again, Sashka shared with me that he also heard something, looking at the left cylinder, I saw that the gasket of the left cylinder began to press. To be honest, all the tools and spare parts that we took with us allowed us to completely rebuild the engine in the forest) But we didn’t want to do this and waste 2-3 hours, and I knew what kind of knock it was, it’s a new-model piece of shit the crankshaft was knocking, or rather its left connecting rod... And then there was also pressure on the gasket on the left side, my mood dropped, but nevertheless, our faithful 3-wheeled horse continued to carry us forward, no doubt I was monitoring the situation on the left cylinder, and having reduced the speed to 60-65, I began to observe that there seemed to be no more pressure, the oil didn’t seem to be leaving, the level was normal, we moved on. At the next stop, I noticed an oil leak, but not from the engine or gearbox, I have a new gearbox, from the Dnepr MT16, the seals are 20 years old, it’s not surprising that they have already dried out from time to time, Sashka and I thought, but as it turns out later, these are not oil seals, it was the kick spring cocking cover that leaked, but the oil did not leak as much as it could, and after adding it to the transmission, we continued our journey, at a distance of 50 - 70 km from the house, at a stop near places already known to us, we did not could believe that we had almost done it, in fact, I had already accepted that we might simply not get home, but the distance was no longer 200 or 400 km from home, but only 50, this is nonsense, here and on the cable not for long... BUT! He didn’t die and didn’t let us down, this heavy, healthy 3-wheeled friend took us all the way to the gate of my garage, I couldn’t believe what I did, my hands, head, sleep and legs were shaking, this time we got there a little faster, in 13 hours. My Mom came out to meet us, she couldn’t believe her eyes) They returned, but they returned on their own, he took the wheel of the motorcycle and said: “Thank you for bringing your son home,” to be honest, I almost shed a tear) Well, really, emotions were overwhelming then, as well as wild fatigue, later I would walk like a zombie for another 3 days, but guys, it was worth it! The emotions that my friend and I experienced are indescribable. We remembered these feelings for the rest of our lives, even though my motorcycle ended up on the motor capital, it’s not entirely his fault, I was younger and didn’t want to buy a Soviet crankshaft, didn’t trust the sellers on Avito and took a brand new, supposedly “Russian” crankshaft , who turns out to be another bastard, in total he lived 2000 km.

Nevertheless, the Ural took us to Novosibirsk and brought us home, allowing us to enjoy those landscapes that you simply don’t notice when traveling by car; you drive and drive, it seems to you that it’s all the same, but on a motorcycle everything is different.

Travel friends, learn something new for yourself, and never, never be afraid of anything. Any trip is an adventure that you will remember more than once and tell your friends and family, adventures that will more than once make your winter evening a little warmer. After all, the body can grow old, the main thing is to remain young in the soul.

I would also like to say thank you to my friend Sashka for not giving a fuck and supporting my crazy idea, I appreciate it. Thank you.

Thank you all for your attention! Don't sit on a chair within 4 walls, travel comrades!

Southwest motorcycle trip

It all started with Dan’s offer to visit Asha (he has a hospitable aunt living there). Actually, there were no other ideas for the trip almost until the departure.

Before leaving, we also thought of a visit to Mount Bolshoy Iremel, as well as a path from Asha almost strictly north along mountain paths that seemed wonderful on satellite images.

It was a great success that Uncle Misha joined our group. The initial invitation was rejected by him, but due to a change of plans, he still joined us and became, in fact, a guide for the first day and a half of the journey.

We meet at the factory entrance. The weather on the day of departure was the likes of which it probably hasn’t been all summer. Warm, dry and clear.

The day before leaving turned out to be a working day for me. Too bad, it so happened that I was left without my own complete luggage system. And tomorrow we leave. I steal a bag-pants from my wife’s motorcycle and devote the evening to tuning the motorcycle.

I had to pack my things late at night and change the drive sprocket on the motorbike in the morning.

Here you can separately talk about the fact that I have always made luggage systems with “TV” frames. In this case, due to a catastrophic lack of time, I had to slam the design of simple yokes. There were doubts and fears that an untested option for securing luggage could fail at the most inopportune moment. The path ahead was not close, but I could afford to experiment on myself. And it was a success. Although I still prefer the option with frames, now I know for sure that such arcs can be enough.

The summer of 2015 in the Urals was nasty. All my travel plans were canceled: in June - by being busy (my wife and I were going to the south on motorcycles), in August - by my engine knocking. In short, we didn’t really go anywhere. And now, finally – the guys are on vacation, I’m free, the equipment is working – let’s go!

On the first day, Mikhail suggested an excellent route to Iremel. We, not knowing anything about those areas, were planning to drive almost along federal highways. Thank God this didn't happen. We drive along the asphalt to Kladovka. Next is a dirt road and a water pipeline to Nyazepetrovsk. From there to the south: Perevoz - Belyanka - Novobelokatay - Leuza - Idrisovo - Petromikhailovka - Ailino (mainly by high-speed graders). Ailino - Mezhevoy - Satka (asphalt).

After Belyanka, Misha promised some interesting man-made object as a place for a snack. Turning off the grader, we crossed a healthy concrete bridge. I was still surprised, they didn’t count the money, such a bridge towards a dead-end road. But immediately this thought was forgotten - after 300 meters some kind of cyclopean structure appeared. It was a huge reinforced concrete billet worth half a dollar. Once upon a time here, in the meander of Ufa, they dug a pit, poured God knows how many kilotons of concrete into it, and left it for posterity. Wikimapia says that all these are details of the unrealized Verkhne-Araslanovsky reservoir project.

Between Leuza and Idrisovo we came across an obelisk:

And in the grove immediately behind it there is a cemetery. Here once was the village of Obukhovka. Now there is no trace of her. Judging by the dates of life on the obelisk, most of the male population went to the front and did not return. The latest dates on the monuments are the 50s. The obelisk and graveyard are very well maintained. It is clear that some enthusiasts are closely watching them.

Lime kilns in Mezhevoy:

Quarry in Satka:

The guys found the wheel. Do they think they can dismantle it or not?

Considering that we managed to keep the pace more or less vigorous, we decide that same day to get to the foot of the Bolshoy Iremel mountain. The navigator draws the route through that ridge:

But Mikhail says that we will travel along that “road” for too long. Most likely we won't get there at all. So we set off along normal roads.

We reached the village of Tyulyuk, a couple of kilometers from it, and stood in one of the clearings where tourists in cars stop before climbing. From these clearings to the top of the mountain it is about 13-15 km.

The next morning the weather is unpredictable. The sky looks like it might clear everything up, or maybe complete hydrodynamics with turbulence will set in. We really could not have gone to the mountain that day. The fact is that Misha has been there more than once and for him it’s like going to a nearby forest park. Den is ready to accept the position of the majority, and Andrei immediately declares that he is not going to drag a motorcycle along a mountain road up God knows how long, and then walk to the mark of one and a half kilometers above sea level. It’s worth clarifying about him right away: this is his first season on a motorcycle. I rolled mostly asphalt and some simple soil. In addition, unlike us, he has an XT 660. So for him, even yesterday’s 400-odd kilometers are already all, we can consider the journey completed)). On the first day, he bravely overcame all the consequences of our impulses to take the “shortcut”.

But I went there with the intention of climbing this hill. So we go up, leaving our heavyweight to rest in a beautiful clearing on the bank of a mountain river.

The climb is quite accessible for a motorcycle, incl. on “universal” tires, type E-09 or T-63. At least until the ranger's cordon. Firstly, they don’t allow equipment further, secondly, it would be very difficult to go because of the trial sections, thirdly, well, there’s no need for it - you have to walk more)). We reached the cordon. Entrance to this reserve now costs 50 rubles. The huntsman gave the impression of a normal guy. He let me put my clothes there and said that I could leave motorcycles under his window, and that sometimes motorcycles are left here for almost a week.

Let's go. Judging by the signs, it is 7 km from the cordon to the top.

View of the back side of the mountain (at the bottom are the high Tygym swamps):

Rise, kurum, peak. Mount Big Iremel. Overall, the impressions were good. I liked the hike up the mountain. Upon arrival, I even started googling in Yandex some trekking shoes that could be carried in a motorcycle bag for such one-day mountain walks.

The height of the mountain is about 1500 meters. According to rumors, this is the most accessible mountain of this height in the Urals. There are well-trodden paths along it, and it is almost impossible to get lost. After a couple of kilometers of the hiking trail, the ascent becomes more gentle, but wetlands appear that at times are almost impossible to get around. After some time, they spat and patted directly on the water - their feet were still wet. After another couple of kilometers we reach a plateau – a flat tundra without trees. The plateau, in turn, abuts a ridge along which you can reach the top. The peak itself, by the way, is so-so, nothing special. A small rock covered with scribble and littered with ritual rags. The views from it are approximately the same as from the beginning of the climb up the kurumnik.

The mountain is very visited. Even on a weekday we came across a dozen groups, including a platoon of high school students.

The ascent from the clearings took us about 6 hours, including the transfer on motorcycles and the wait for Dan, who, on the descent to the ranger’s hut, managed to fall behind and get lost in this “forest park”.

We return, quickly prepare food and say goodbye to Mikhail. He separates from the group in order to be home by the appointed time according to the accelerated version of the route. We said our goodbyes, wished we had a good journey, and look. He presses the starter button, and the motorcycle seems to say: “I don’t know what you have planned, but I’m not going anywhere right now.” We spent more than an hour fiddling with fuses, sensors and wiring. It is not known what was there, but we stirred something necessary. The motorcycle started up and Misha drove off. We never understood what it was. According to the symptoms, it seemed as if the neutral sensor and the footrests were faulty at the same time.

We continue to imposingly get ready, drink tea and repack our bags for the second time. It’s quickly getting dark, but for us, our plans are just to get to Asha today, only 150 kilometers.

We got ready, got dressed, someone had already left. I go to start the motorcycle, and its front tire is flat. ***! Considering that it was definitely on the descent from Iremel, on one of the sharp stones, I had time to fix it three times...

Because of this, and also because of the numerous gatherings and teas with buns, we get out from Tyulyuk to M5 already in the dark, and, moreover, in the rain. And we decide, taking into account the proximity of Asha, ignorance of the surrounding area and reluctance to spend the night in the first swamp we come across, to cut along the M5 at all costs until we reach Asha. It was some kind of horror. I guess that our fellow beginner on a heavy motorcycle had many other reasons to swear out loud into his helmet during this trip, but for me the Yuryuzan-Asha route became the most terrible part of the trip. I never want to be on this track again. Even without rain. Even during the day. One episode was particularly memorable. Another truck overtakes us. He doesn’t have time to catch up with me and starts pushing Den to the side of the road. Well, never mind, it’s not the first time – Den pulls to the side of the road and continues to move along it, but the truck driver begins to slow down. Visibility is terrible, and having lost sight of Dan, he gets a fork: crush a motorcyclist or an oncoming car. In the last seconds, the truck simply stops in the oncoming lane, on the M5 highway in the midst of night traffic. And he remains standing there, stopping the entire oncoming flow at the same time.

We entered Asha at twelve o'clock at night. Aunt Dena is a golden woman. She checked us in, scary, dirty and wet, let us into a hot shower and fed us. It was too cool. There weren’t even words to express gratitude normally.

The next day we didn’t plan to travel much and left at about 15.00.

In fact, the original plan was to travel through areas north of Asha. Maps, satellite images and all descriptions of this area found online were studied. But, having processed some data about the upcoming roads, taking into account the composition and equipment of the group, as well as the stories of the locals about the rains (it had been pouring, contrary to forecasts, for two days already), a shameful decision was made to take a detour... All that remained from the previous grandiose plans was the intention to return there next year. With more time and on normal tires.

One way or another, our strategic direction is to the north. We choose to spend the night near the dam on the Pavlovsk Reservoir.

A couple of photos from the road:

While looking for a place to spend the night, we miraculously stumble upon an excellent set of furniture in the forest. This guy was not included with the headset, he was traveling with us.

Fourth day. I draw a route - like we need to be on the banks of the Votkinsk reservoir in one day. I set myself the task of reducing my time on the asphalt and at the same time not sharing the fate of Ivan Susanin. My companions, despite more or less good roads in the first days, now sense something is wrong...

Places completely unfamiliar. Before leaving, I explored the area that we ended up not going through. So – improvise, this is the key word today...

Partially successful. Everything was enough. And graders, and primers, and asphalt.

From Pavlovka we drove through some oil regions: Osipovka - Mukhametdinovo - Podlubovo.

Continue on asphalt to Askino. Cafe, conversations with good-natured Bashkirs about motorcycle travel.

While we were driving along the asphalt to the catering, we were very cold and put on all the suits that we had with us. The image Dan created was called “Jamaican Special Forces”:

From Askino by various non-paved roads: Tulguzbash - Muta-Elga - New Tatyshly.

There was even a small enduro section. Between Tulguzbash and Muta-Elga, there is an old abandoned road and an almost destroyed crossing over a stream.

There is a pipe laid under the road. A stream once flowed normally through it. Then the pipe was plugged with dry branches, soil was applied to them and now the road is being washed away. It seems that in another year or two there will be a good ravine in this place instead of a road. We placed three boards found nearby for passage. Only one lay down normally. The rest are just there to give a leg up and for moral support. Everyone remembered how they handed over the board at the racetracks.

The rest of the journey was already quite boring. We got out onto the grader, and then - Tatyshly - Kueda - Barda - Ust-Pal. Before the arrival point from the highway there is a dirt road of 6-7 km. We already thought we had arrived. But there turned out to be so much dirt that we, it seems, had never seen so much during the entire trip. Again, like a year ago, we visited Fanych, his hospitality is still at its best.

This time we caught him during some kind of construction emergency, so we limited ourselves to only one evening meeting. We talked about everything. Fanych devoted a special place in conversations to the topic of a trip to the autumn Sarany, which he and his comrades organized at the “closing of the season.” And it’s not that everything there was absolutely enchanting, but the very concept of the rally, wandering from overnight stay to overnight stay, is considered by Fanych to be an important element of Ural motorcycle endurism.

The next day we left for home.

This is Seryoga Fanych. He took us to the asphalt and showed us an interesting dirt shortcut to the route to Kungur:

We drove about 1500 km. We had a lot of impressions, but I still don’t let go of the feeling that it wasn’t enough. It seems like we could have skated like this for another week. I also personally didn’t have enough enduro. It was very scary to abandon the original plans when we found out that the roads had been washed away by rain for 2 days, and we, damn it, were “on the wrong tires.” By the way, after this trip I set it to normal. I rode it and decided that I would no longer use the motorcycle as a station wagon. Let the mud wear off faster, let you have to drive more carefully on the asphalt. The only exception will be in the case of long-distance driving on asphalt or on some, perhaps, southern graders.

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“Hike of Strength” of the Ural motorcycle club

On January 2, members of the legendary St. Petersburg motorcycle club “URAL URAL Owners Group” went from St. Petersburg to the Ural city of Irbit to buy a new Ural motorcycle and back. The trip has been planned since the beginning of 2016 and it is no coincidence that it takes place during the harshest time of the year. This is not because the motorcycle ordered in advance turned out to be ready only now, and not because the guys had no time in the summer. It’s just that the previous winter rush to Norway on the North Cape showed that only extreme low-temperature adventurous motorcycle trips can generate those unforgettable emotions that a person experiences in the struggle for survival. And only in the collective overcoming of truly life-threatening situations that haunt the group throughout the entire journey, a real strong male friendship is formed, mutual assistance is practiced and the responsibility of each for all is formed.

This run was planned without an accompanying car, so everything that might be needed along the way was placed on motorcycles and in sidecars. There is a passenger in one of the strollers - after all, the club will receive a new motorcycle in Irbit and someone needs to ride it back. And only those who have not made long winter trips in a motorcycle stroller can decide that this is the easiest travel option. At -30 degrees ambient temperature, the person sitting behind the wheel receives at least a little heat from the engine sandwiched between the legs. And the “astronaut” in the cradle fights for survival all the way without an external source of heat. And don’t say that he can warm up from the inside - this is one of the tragic mistakes.

Without accompanying vehicles in a remote winter area, we get previously unknown sensations. The lack of accompaniment limits us in everything, even in unexpected sectors. For example, it is already obvious that photo and video materials, as well as their quality, will be an order of magnitude smaller and lower than in the expedition to the North Cape. The equipment freezes and the possibilities of using it are extremely limited. Plus, even what little is available becomes extremely difficult to transfer to the group, since the equipment warms up and decondenses somewhere in the night and immediately goes back to the cold in the morning. On the first day, January 2, it was more shitty than cold. We drove the pig roads of St. Petersburg and the Leningrad region with pleasure and quickly. In Vologda they began to catch minus. We spent the night in White Crosses. The name of the village attracted me. On the morning of the second day we reached minus 20. This is a minus borderline with problems. On the way to the North Cape, at about minus twenty, we experienced minor failures. It’s the same now: on Bruise, the speedometer needle fell off without resistance, on Snow, the speedometer howls like a wounded bison, but the needle, twitching nervously, stubbornly holds on; They stuffed wooden caps into the air filters and brought the sopuns to the ground. Everything that moves and spins clearly wants to break and fall off. The electric starters on the Bruise and the Bomb failed (for factory trolls: both motorcycles were not factory assembled). In the nearest warm place we will deal with all the small fry. Today we are spending the night in the village. Gryazovets (also fell for the name). Hotel officials say it's -25 outside the window. Judging by the frozen snot, this is approximately the case. Our thermometer, until Bozeman knocked it down with its frozen booger, always showed +42, which seemed to warm us up. As soon as we lost it, hypothermia immediately began to break out in places. So far we are successfully repelling her attacks by rotating clothes. Between coffee breaks we travel 80-120 km. It turns out just right. Lunches turn out to be long: while you take off everything, trying not to cut off your nose with the frozen cutoff, then you dress properly, after eating and struggling with pretending that there is no need to go anywhere. Tomorrow we drive 363 km and spend the night in Manturovo (also fell for the name). Further 364 km and the glorious Vyatka, the city of Kirov March of the Force. Winter motorcycle expedition, January 3, 2017

So, dedicated to the 75th anniversary of the Irbit Motorcycle Race, as the organizers jokingly called it, we set off on a 6,000-kilometer journey. Motorcyclists plan to cover 300-450 kilometers a day and visit the cities of Kostroma, Kirov, Irbit, Yekaterinburg, Chelyabinsk, Samara and Lipetsk. The motorcycle rally is headed by the President of the Ural motorcycle club, Nikolai Zhavoronkov “Don”.

The 3rd day is over. It was a very strong day. The day on which the Force fully and seriously made it clear what they had gotten themselves into. We hope that in full, and not hinted at. But something tells me that this is just a hint of everything else. I really want to think that I will survive the most difficult day. Moreover, I would like to think that the rest will be at least a little simpler. These are of course just thoughts. In real life, people were on the edge and so was technology. All the time it seemed that the motorcycles worked miraculously and were pulled not by “horses”, but by another force, as if pulling careless idiots out of the trap into which they had thrown themselves. Thinking this way, is it easier to pass the challenge and easier to explain to yourself why it happened? It was a long morning. -30 with 100% humidity. Factory gears of 2013 started up without any problems. Only Carrot has an eternal problem with long warm-up due to the tuning wilderness clogged with frozen condensate. Self-made Bruise and Bomb were acting up. They took turns refusing for three hours. Finally, the long morning ended and we rushed off. The road promised to be easy. And according to the forecast, we were supposed to arrive in Maturovo at -20. But one should not create illusions. The road cannot make promises, and forecasts are guesses. It's a very strange day. We drove 360 km and during all the time we never had the opportunity to have lunch, drink coffee or simply warm up. For 330 km there was not a single gas station and we arrived with dry tanks and cans. Here we were met with minus 30 and it was overnight. The road, comparable to an enduro track for about 200 km, shook out our spines. We couldn't smoke for the last four hours because... The helmets froze to death and would not open. In fact, we weren't able to take them off even once the entire day. Passengers get it hard. They take almost all the air flow onto their chest. The state was “wrinkled” and tense. The thoughts, as it turned out, were similar. Everyone thought about possible actions in an emergency. We are united in the fact that the simplest actions, such as taking out a phone, then dialing a number, and before that thinking about which one, are on the verge of the possible and, on top of that, practically useless. The construction of the shelter and fire is generally fantastic. The fact that we were unable to have lunch and warm up at least once brought us to the brink. All we thought about was: go to the Urals, we have to go. Further... Further... The wall to which we were pressed moved behind us without lagging behind. Hypothermia attacked all the gaps that had been made and broke through them, taking away all the possibilities for solving these problems. The Urals did not disappoint. This absolutely saved us. I gained a lot of experience today. An error has been identified that will not be repeated. Tomorrow we go to the same conditions, but with new tools and strategy. But, most importantly: with a much larger volume of everyone’s personal power, filled with new real experience, gained on the edge, and therefore learned in full. Mild frostbite of the feet - Don. Frostbite on the cheek - Boatswain. Frostbite of the little finger of the hand - Grand. We continue. And let's see what happens tomorrow. Hi all. March of Strength March of Strength. Winter motorcycle expedition, January 5, 2017

Well, it’s already January 6th on the calendar, Olivier has almost been eaten, and the guests have left. Many have even begun to restore their routine, prudently preparing for everyday work. But not these guys from Power March. Winter motorcycle expedition. The very next day after the onset of 2021, a team of 4 motorcycles arrived in full force at Victory Square in St. Petersburg. We must pay tribute - the preparation of both the motorcycles and the riders themselves is at an excellent level. A specialist was responsible for the approval of motorcycles, who assessed the readiness of each of the motorcycles: Snow, Bruise, Carrot and Bomb. But the most interesting thing lies ahead - the new Ural IMZ-8.1041 GEAR-UP, which is waiting for the guys in Irbit. The motorcycle will join the journey immediately after the factory and will travel as part of a convoy to the final destination - St. Petersburg via Samara. Photos of the full group on the start day, the expedition team and each motorcycle individually. As well as a complete map of the route. PS. On our own behalf we would like to wish you an easy journey both ways, hot engines and a confident grip (even though I don’t like this expression) Long Road shop, January 6, 2017

HAWKS MC met yesterday and today they escorted the participants of the “Walk of Strength” run, organized by the URAL Owners Group club. We remind you that the guys ride motorcycles from St. Petersburg to Irbit, and back, 5900 kilometers! Despite the fatigue, the participants of the race found the strength to answer questions from journalists and the motorcyclists who came to meet them. The materials are still being processed. I would like to say a huge thank you to the YAMAHA motorcycle salon, which hosted iron horses for an overnight stay in warm boxes. For the first time since the beginning of the expedition, the motorcycles spent the night in a warm place. We'll post photos and videos a little later, here are a few that were on hand. Motorcycle club HAWKS MS, January 6, 2017

Today is the 5th day of the March of Strength, which the participants of the URAL Motorcycle Club URAL Owners Group went on. Kirov greeted travelers very warmly yesterday. The HAWKS MC Motorcycle Club sheltered, fed and warmed the guys, and their war horses also spent the night warm. And we had such a restful time that today it was even decided to take a short break and at the same time treat our animals, so the morning was spent in peaceful labors, but in the afternoon our team still returned to the track. The weather was good, sunny, -25, light snow. We drove about 200 km, today we are spending the night in Omutninsk. Every day the goal is getting closer - Irbit! And then, of course, back! =) Radio SHOK, January 6, 2017

Hi all. The beginning of the sixth day. -30 On the fourth day we entered Kirov, where many friends were patiently waiting for us. Along the way, the UAZ Patriot crew was waiting, saw us, overtook us and at one of the forks unanimously waved the international “help” sign. Of course, we stopped, believing that help was needed. The guys were in the peak of a good mood. We gave the password “for all the will of the force” and received our souvenirs) took photographs and went on our way. At the entrance to Kirov, two of our Kirov tuber brothers Yary and Hunter and their family caught the same sign. We were escorted to the warm box at Yamaha Vyatka, where our equipment was treated. There the brothers of the HAWKS MC Motorcycle Club were waiting for us, who escorted us to their exemplary clubhouse, where they arranged a stunning reception in a cozy, homely, friendly motorcycle atmosphere. On the fifth day we left at the end of daylight hours, so the mileage was about 200 km. Along the way, strange things happened to us, which we decided not to explain to ourselves, but to perceive as background force turbulence. Today we are going to Perm. The day promises to be difficult. Now there are thirty minuses. Let's wake up the horses. 380 km ahead. We won't go to Perm. We stop behind it at the bypass. After the challenge of the third day, we are almost not cold. Obviously, once in a stressful situation, the body turns on a forgotten scheme to counteract relapse. Once we got used to the equipment, it became easier to travel, but the preparations were still long. There's no hurry here. During the first ten kilometers we stop about five times to eliminate gaps in our equipment. Therefore, it turns out that the daily mileage itself is approximately equivalent in time to training camp. —————- A very pretentious name for the expedition? Yes. When we talk about Strength, we don’t even consider muscular strength. Trucker guys also catch us with the password. The decision is made not to stop every time if it is obvious that help is not required. Otherwise, we will turn into a point for issuing souvenirs and will not arrive anywhere... March of the Force. Winter motorcycle expedition, January 7, 2017

This summer, Don told me about his experiences on a trip to the North Cape, when the temperature reached -46 degrees and in the mornings the motorcycles had to be started for hours with the help of a blowtorch and some mother. Even then, he spoke about plans for an even more dangerous and extreme trip to Irbit to the factory to buy a new motorcycle. I assumed that trucks speeding past would pose the main danger on our broken roads that are not maintained in winter. But Nikolai corrected him, saying: “Yes, that’s true... But whoever rides in a stroller will be completely screwed....” He also spoke about the future fate of the new motorcycle, which they will pick up in Irbit. It turns out that he is being purchased by the club for general use and will remain in the club even if the Don who paid for him leaves the team. These are the correct relationships in the St. Petersburg “URAL URAL Owners Group”. RIC, January 7, 2017

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Original: https://vk.com/uralwanderungkraft