Post by traktourer on Nov 11, 2014 17:41:57 GMT 10
Following recent test riding in sand, the chance came to put what I’d learnt into practice, with a trip to the Nullarbor coast on my 2014 Ural Tourist.
The plan was for a crew of five to spend a week travelling together on two Suzuki DRZ 400’s, one Ural and a Nissan Patrol Tray back, with the aim of following the old telegraph line from Madura Roadhouse on the Eyre Highway to Israelite Bay. Well, plans are made to be broken!
The first challenge was getting all the starters to Madura Roadhouse, which is where the real adventure was expected to begin.
Dennis, Adrian, Ronnie and Antoinet all live near Albany WA, which is about 1100 km from Madura via our planned route. I’m 130 km closer, near Bremer Bay.
On day one, Friday, 24th October 2014, the wheels started rolling. Adrian and I met up at Boxwood Hill Roadhouse for morning coffee, then we headed for Ravensthorpe, via as many dirt and gravel roads as possible. Adrian’s DRZ was lightly loaded with a Giant Loop type saddlebag, with the rest of his gear coming tomorrow in Ronnie and Antoinet’s Nissan. My Ural on the other hand was heavily loaded with food for eight days, 30 litres of water and 40 litres of spare fuel. I saw this trip as an opportunity to explore the Ural’s capabilities with the safety net of some reliable travelling companions, and a four wheel drive support vehicle, should things go pear-shaped.
West River was flowing at the Old Ongerup Road crossing, but only 150mm deep, so that wasn’t a problem.
We were halted however at the Phillips River crossing on Cocanarup Road, which was 700mm deep.
This meant a back-track of 5km, and crossing on the highway bridge.
We re-fueled at Ravensthorpe, said hello to some of my former work colleagues at the Department of Parks and Wildlife, and headed north-east through the Ravensthorpe Range to a little-used historical trail, the Hewby–May Track. This narrow, overgrown four wheel drive route links Ravensthorpe with Peak Charles, and gave us a means of heading towards Esperance via mainly dirt roads. Our camp site for the night was Coujinup Creek, 6km east of the vermin proof fence. Just prior to getting there I managed to drench myself at a shallow water crossing by hitting it too fast in second gear. (my reluctance to risk getting bogged so late in the day was understandable, and although the sudden shock of cold water on a hot motor caused the Ural to stall, no harm was done, except to my pride)
Adrian and I set up camp in a nice patch of eucalypt woodland, and wondered whether Dennis would manage to catch up with us there, as he was delayed in leaving Albany that morning. Just on last light we were pleased to hear Dennis’s trusty DRZ approaching. He had ridden the 340km almost non-stop, and was happy to join us.
Dennis was heavily loaded, as he was using the trip as a shake-down run for his un-supported Canning Stock Route ride next year.
I had spent seven hours on the road, (including stops) for 284km, with 182km of dirt.
Day two dawned fine, and the three of us got under way at 7.30 am.
The Hewby-May Track was rough and tight, with one wet creek crossing and a steep, off-cambered climb out of the Oldfield River valley. I negotiated the creek crossing OK in first gear with momentum, but was a bit worried about the later river climb, because the track was off-cambered to the left side. Naturally, the Ural wanted to go in that direction, but I was pleasantly surprised by the EFI motor, which had the grunt to idle up the slope while I made constant gentle steering adjustments to the right. After covering 25km in the first hour, we reached Cascade Road, and turned south-east towards Esperance.
From there the run to Esperance was uneventful, and we hit town in time to make some last minute purchases before the shops closed at lunchtime. The weather had warmed up and I found I couldn’t get an adequate flow from my Dry Rider jacket water bladder so purchased a new bite valve.
Unfortunately, Adrian received some bad news from his family at this point, which caused him to break off the trip, and start heading the 500 km back home. Before he left, he was able to meet some of my Esperance friends, who I had invited to accompany us for the rest of the day, and to camp with us that night. These were Paull on a Kawasaki KLR 650, Jacob on the KLR 650 I recently sold him, and Jacob’s father Peter, on a 2009 Ural “Red October”.
We headed east from Esperance along the Fisheries Road, stopping briefly when Dennis’s small fire extinguisher fell off his bike and discharged. This provided some conversation when we topped up with fuel at Condingup, prior to turning north on Parmango Road. When looking at a map, Parmango Road appears to be a short cut from Esperance to Balladonia Roadhouse on the Eyre Highway, but I knew from previous experience that although it’s a shorter route than Esperance – Norseman –Balladonia, it certainly doesn’t save any time. The first part is sealed, then here is a section sheeted with fine limestone material, but once you get north of the farming country, the road appears unmaintained. It’s wide, but has been sheeted in places with course limestone material, which is rough as guts.
The further north you go, the rougher the road gets, with corrugations, patches of water and bog holes across the full width in places.
We made Deralinya Homestead at 4.30pm, and were all glad to get out of the saddle. Shortly after, Ronnie and Antoinet arrived in their GU Nissan Tray Back, having left Albany that morning. After setting up camp we all gathered in the homestead’s restored main room, where the open fireplace was lit, tea was cooked,
and Peter’s birthday was toasted.
I had spent nine hours on the road for 392km,with 227km dirt.
Day three saw the party split up, with Dennis, Ronnie, Antoinet and I heading north towards the Eyre Highway, while Paul, Jacob and Peter went east to Balbinya Homestead, before returning to Esperance.
About 12 km north of Deralinya, the Parmango Road intersects Balladonia Road. This also coincides with a change of Shire Councils, from Esperance to Dundas (Norseman), and a further deterioration in the road standard and conditions. From there on the road is narrow, boggy, corrugated and pot-holed.
We didn’t need to refuel at Balladonia, so cut east,
and popped out on Eyre Highway opposite the abandoned Balladonia Telegraph Station. From here, it was an easy run along the highway, past Caiguna and Cocklebiddy, then on Madura, where we arrived at 3.30pm. The biggest challenge, apart from the boredom of the 90 mile straight (146.6km), was the wind buffeting caused by trucks going in the other direction.
Actually, the 90 mile straight wasn’t too bad, as the country changes quite a bit, and there’s generally something to look at when you’re ambling along at 95 kph.
We booked into the caravan park behind the roadhouse, where the hot shower was very welcome, but sleep was difficult with traffic on the highway, and the diesel generator plugging away all night. Ear plugs were the go!
We had spent eight hours on the road for 415km,with only 94km dirt.
It had taken three days to get to the kick off point for the highlight of the trip – following the Inter Colonial Telegraph Line of 1877 west along the coast for the next three or four days.
I started by letting the Ural tyres down to half their normal pressure, as an experiment to soften the ride for the first 80km, which I knew would be a firm track.
We headed off at 8am, following the base of the Hampton Tableland escarpment. This is a great ride, with several homestead ruins to look over,
and other remnants of the early pastoral days.
However it didn’t take long for me to wonder what was going on with the Ural, when the bike refused to respond to the steering on two particular left hand corners, and ploughed straight ahead. I realised that this understeer had been there all morning since deflating the tyres, but it was really bad when the corners had a surface of fine, talcum powder like sand, with no grip. In this situation the front wheel skated over the top, and the weight of the outfit took over. 12 psi in the sidecar wheel, 15 psi in the front and 17 psi in the back wheel was not enough in these conditions. When we stopped for morning tea, I re-inflated to 25 psi, 30 and 35, and immediately regained steering control and stability.
After 87 km, we reached the track which goes to the old Eyre Telegraph Station, now utilised as a bird observatory.
This was the test I’d been waiting for, as the track consists of 10 km of sandy ruts, which pass regularly from valley to ridge. I deflated the tyres by eye until they appeared to be ballooning enough, then checked the pressures, which turned out to be 8 psi all around. The front and sidecar tyres didn’t look to be that low, but the rear wheel certainly did. I wasn’t concerned about it however, as the rear wheel has a “Tubliss” bladder installed, especially for this sort of work. (The Tubliss system clamps the tyre to the rim and provides rim protection so that very low tyre pressures can be safely used).
I took the lead to see how the rig would handle the first ridge, using second gear. The answer was – OK, so I carried on. One ridge down, eleven to go!
I had a bit of a moment on the side-slope of a limestone blow out at one point, where momentum proved to be the wrong technique, and a slow, careful approach was required, but otherwise things went well. The trick was to have the bike in the right hand rut and the sidecar wheel on the crown. A lot of counter steering to the right was required, to offset the pull of the sidecar to the left, but I made it up all the hills in second gear, except for one, where the Ural ran out of puff, and a quick change to first was required.
We arrived at Eyre Bird Observatory for a late lunch, and were welcomed by the Birdlife Australia Caretakers, who were just completing their three month residential stint, and inducting new volunteers.
They mentioned that a few motorcycle riders had managed to reach the observatory during their time there, but just as many had found it too difficult.
Over a cup of coffee, Dennis, Ronnie, Antoinet and I discussed our options from here,
and agreed that it wouldn’t be sensible to try taking the Ural along the beach route to Twilight Cove. Although the Ural had done very well to get this far, it had been hard work. The decision was to retrace our route through the sand hills, camp at the top of the escarpment, and review our plans overnight.
I started back, while the others went down to the beach to have a look at a wrecked fishing boat. Going through the hills seemed easier the second time, perhaps because I’d got the feel for it, and things went well for 7km.
Then the front tyre went flat with no warning! I managed to keep the rig going until there was room for vehicles to go around me, then sat in the shade pondering the options.
The rest of the crew caught up a few minutes later, and reported that the fishing boat was no longer on the beach.
We considered installing the Ural spare wheel to get me to the camp site, but this would have only been a temporary measure, as I knew the wheel would fit, but it wasn’t compatible with the front brake calliper. If we put the spare on, then the original front wheel would have to be repaired and re-fitted tonight anyway so I could have brakes tomorrow. So Ronnie and Dennis pulled the front wheel off and replaced the tube, there and then, in the sand, while I produced a groundsheet, tools, pump, etc. Thanks guys.
The reason for the flat tyre was that the valve stem had pulled out of the tube due to the low tyre pressure and lack of a rim lock. That being the case, I didn’t want to run low pressure through the last 3km of sand, and risk the same thing happening again, so put 15psi in, and attempted to ride on. But there was no way the bike would manage the ruts with that much pressure in the front tyre, and I repeatedly got bogged, so swallowed my pride and was towed the last 3km to firm ground.
We camped that night at 5 pm, with fantastic views from the top of the escarpment, after what had been a huge day. 110 km of dirt had been travelled in nine hours.
Day five began with a decision to head towards Twilight Cove by following an old track along the top of the escarpment. This track sees very little use, is narrow, overhung with branches and has a lot of exposed limestone. After half an hour I had only managed to go 4 km, because it was extremely rough going on the Ural. My back was sore from the constant pounding, and I knew from previous trips that there was a lot more of this type of country ahead. Dennis was travelling well on the DRZ, and Ronnie and Antoinet were pushing through happily in the Patrol, but I’d had enough. So we said our farewells, and I went back to the previous night’s camp site, while the rest of the crew carried on towards Twilight Cove and beyond. My intention was to head home over the next few days, so I began by cutting up to the Highway, and heading west.
The rest of the day was spent cruising across the Nullarbor at 100kph, past Cocklebiddy, Caiguna, Balladonia and Fraser Range, before camping in the bush, well off the Eyre Highway, to avoid the truck noise.
During a nine hour day, I covered 414 km, of which only 27km was in the dirt.
Next morning I got under way at 7.30 am, refuelled at Norseman an hour later, and continued west on the Hyden–Norseman Road.
By the time I stopped at Disappointment Rock for morning tea the temperature was climbing, and when I pulled in to “The Breakaway” for lunch, it was 43.5 degrees. I didn’t hang around for long, and when leaving, the Ural motor cut out suddenly as I was changing from first to second gear. I rolled the bike into the shade, faced it into the wind, and after a couple of goes it re-started. I suspect this was a momentary glitch with the EFI system, as it didn’t do it again.
I turned south on the Forrestania Road, followed that through to Varley, then headed south west through agricultural country to Newdegate, where a self contained unit at the Caravan Park provided a hot shower and the first good night’s sleep of the trip.
This made it 455 km for a nine hour day, with 316 km of dirt.
Next morning, the sidecar tyre was flat, so I pumped it up and monitored the pressure loss as I packed my gear. It seemed like a slow leak, so I headed for home via Jerramungup, stopping once to check the tyre and again to top up the pressure.
I arrived home at 11.30 am, having done 205 km, of which 66 km was in the dirt. Later, I found that the reason for the sidecar tyre leak was due to the valve stem pulling away from the tube. Dennis, Ronnie and Antoinet completed the Telegraph Line trip to Israelite Bay without any drama, so we all ended up having a memorable time.
What did I learn about the 2014 EFI Ural?
- The fuel economy was very good, ranging from 14.6 to 15.5 km per litre.
- The trip meter registers 10% less than the true distance travelled (I accounted for that in the figures in this report).
- Lack of rim locks means valve stem problems if you run low tyre pressures.
- Using a Tubliss system eliminates problems with running low tyre pressures.
- A fully loaded Ural can handle sandy twin track if the tyre pressures are around 8 psi.
- If tyre pressures are at half their normal value, a fully loaded Ural understeers badly on left hand dirt corners.
- With normal tyre pressures, a Ural handles well on reasonably smooth dirt, gravel and sealed roads.
- A fully loaded Ural has limited suspension travel in corrugations, pot holes and rocks, giving a harsh ride in those situations.
- It’s worth experimenting with the shock absorber spring pre-load settings to improve ride quality in rough conditions.
- The steering damper is fine in the middle settings for most riding conditions, but on rough, fast gravel roads, the stiffest setting was noticeably better.
- A Ural is capable of carrying a heavy load, but as with any sort of motorcycle adventure touring it’s better to keep your gear to a minimum.
Cheers, Geoff.
The plan was for a crew of five to spend a week travelling together on two Suzuki DRZ 400’s, one Ural and a Nissan Patrol Tray back, with the aim of following the old telegraph line from Madura Roadhouse on the Eyre Highway to Israelite Bay. Well, plans are made to be broken!
The first challenge was getting all the starters to Madura Roadhouse, which is where the real adventure was expected to begin.
Dennis, Adrian, Ronnie and Antoinet all live near Albany WA, which is about 1100 km from Madura via our planned route. I’m 130 km closer, near Bremer Bay.
On day one, Friday, 24th October 2014, the wheels started rolling. Adrian and I met up at Boxwood Hill Roadhouse for morning coffee, then we headed for Ravensthorpe, via as many dirt and gravel roads as possible. Adrian’s DRZ was lightly loaded with a Giant Loop type saddlebag, with the rest of his gear coming tomorrow in Ronnie and Antoinet’s Nissan. My Ural on the other hand was heavily loaded with food for eight days, 30 litres of water and 40 litres of spare fuel. I saw this trip as an opportunity to explore the Ural’s capabilities with the safety net of some reliable travelling companions, and a four wheel drive support vehicle, should things go pear-shaped.
West River was flowing at the Old Ongerup Road crossing, but only 150mm deep, so that wasn’t a problem.
We were halted however at the Phillips River crossing on Cocanarup Road, which was 700mm deep.
This meant a back-track of 5km, and crossing on the highway bridge.
We re-fueled at Ravensthorpe, said hello to some of my former work colleagues at the Department of Parks and Wildlife, and headed north-east through the Ravensthorpe Range to a little-used historical trail, the Hewby–May Track. This narrow, overgrown four wheel drive route links Ravensthorpe with Peak Charles, and gave us a means of heading towards Esperance via mainly dirt roads. Our camp site for the night was Coujinup Creek, 6km east of the vermin proof fence. Just prior to getting there I managed to drench myself at a shallow water crossing by hitting it too fast in second gear. (my reluctance to risk getting bogged so late in the day was understandable, and although the sudden shock of cold water on a hot motor caused the Ural to stall, no harm was done, except to my pride)
Adrian and I set up camp in a nice patch of eucalypt woodland, and wondered whether Dennis would manage to catch up with us there, as he was delayed in leaving Albany that morning. Just on last light we were pleased to hear Dennis’s trusty DRZ approaching. He had ridden the 340km almost non-stop, and was happy to join us.
Dennis was heavily loaded, as he was using the trip as a shake-down run for his un-supported Canning Stock Route ride next year.
I had spent seven hours on the road, (including stops) for 284km, with 182km of dirt.
Day two dawned fine, and the three of us got under way at 7.30 am.
The Hewby-May Track was rough and tight, with one wet creek crossing and a steep, off-cambered climb out of the Oldfield River valley. I negotiated the creek crossing OK in first gear with momentum, but was a bit worried about the later river climb, because the track was off-cambered to the left side. Naturally, the Ural wanted to go in that direction, but I was pleasantly surprised by the EFI motor, which had the grunt to idle up the slope while I made constant gentle steering adjustments to the right. After covering 25km in the first hour, we reached Cascade Road, and turned south-east towards Esperance.
From there the run to Esperance was uneventful, and we hit town in time to make some last minute purchases before the shops closed at lunchtime. The weather had warmed up and I found I couldn’t get an adequate flow from my Dry Rider jacket water bladder so purchased a new bite valve.
Unfortunately, Adrian received some bad news from his family at this point, which caused him to break off the trip, and start heading the 500 km back home. Before he left, he was able to meet some of my Esperance friends, who I had invited to accompany us for the rest of the day, and to camp with us that night. These were Paull on a Kawasaki KLR 650, Jacob on the KLR 650 I recently sold him, and Jacob’s father Peter, on a 2009 Ural “Red October”.
We headed east from Esperance along the Fisheries Road, stopping briefly when Dennis’s small fire extinguisher fell off his bike and discharged. This provided some conversation when we topped up with fuel at Condingup, prior to turning north on Parmango Road. When looking at a map, Parmango Road appears to be a short cut from Esperance to Balladonia Roadhouse on the Eyre Highway, but I knew from previous experience that although it’s a shorter route than Esperance – Norseman –Balladonia, it certainly doesn’t save any time. The first part is sealed, then here is a section sheeted with fine limestone material, but once you get north of the farming country, the road appears unmaintained. It’s wide, but has been sheeted in places with course limestone material, which is rough as guts.
The further north you go, the rougher the road gets, with corrugations, patches of water and bog holes across the full width in places.
We made Deralinya Homestead at 4.30pm, and were all glad to get out of the saddle. Shortly after, Ronnie and Antoinet arrived in their GU Nissan Tray Back, having left Albany that morning. After setting up camp we all gathered in the homestead’s restored main room, where the open fireplace was lit, tea was cooked,
and Peter’s birthday was toasted.
I had spent nine hours on the road for 392km,with 227km dirt.
Day three saw the party split up, with Dennis, Ronnie, Antoinet and I heading north towards the Eyre Highway, while Paul, Jacob and Peter went east to Balbinya Homestead, before returning to Esperance.
About 12 km north of Deralinya, the Parmango Road intersects Balladonia Road. This also coincides with a change of Shire Councils, from Esperance to Dundas (Norseman), and a further deterioration in the road standard and conditions. From there on the road is narrow, boggy, corrugated and pot-holed.
We didn’t need to refuel at Balladonia, so cut east,
and popped out on Eyre Highway opposite the abandoned Balladonia Telegraph Station. From here, it was an easy run along the highway, past Caiguna and Cocklebiddy, then on Madura, where we arrived at 3.30pm. The biggest challenge, apart from the boredom of the 90 mile straight (146.6km), was the wind buffeting caused by trucks going in the other direction.
Actually, the 90 mile straight wasn’t too bad, as the country changes quite a bit, and there’s generally something to look at when you’re ambling along at 95 kph.
We booked into the caravan park behind the roadhouse, where the hot shower was very welcome, but sleep was difficult with traffic on the highway, and the diesel generator plugging away all night. Ear plugs were the go!
We had spent eight hours on the road for 415km,with only 94km dirt.
It had taken three days to get to the kick off point for the highlight of the trip – following the Inter Colonial Telegraph Line of 1877 west along the coast for the next three or four days.
I started by letting the Ural tyres down to half their normal pressure, as an experiment to soften the ride for the first 80km, which I knew would be a firm track.
We headed off at 8am, following the base of the Hampton Tableland escarpment. This is a great ride, with several homestead ruins to look over,
and other remnants of the early pastoral days.
However it didn’t take long for me to wonder what was going on with the Ural, when the bike refused to respond to the steering on two particular left hand corners, and ploughed straight ahead. I realised that this understeer had been there all morning since deflating the tyres, but it was really bad when the corners had a surface of fine, talcum powder like sand, with no grip. In this situation the front wheel skated over the top, and the weight of the outfit took over. 12 psi in the sidecar wheel, 15 psi in the front and 17 psi in the back wheel was not enough in these conditions. When we stopped for morning tea, I re-inflated to 25 psi, 30 and 35, and immediately regained steering control and stability.
After 87 km, we reached the track which goes to the old Eyre Telegraph Station, now utilised as a bird observatory.
This was the test I’d been waiting for, as the track consists of 10 km of sandy ruts, which pass regularly from valley to ridge. I deflated the tyres by eye until they appeared to be ballooning enough, then checked the pressures, which turned out to be 8 psi all around. The front and sidecar tyres didn’t look to be that low, but the rear wheel certainly did. I wasn’t concerned about it however, as the rear wheel has a “Tubliss” bladder installed, especially for this sort of work. (The Tubliss system clamps the tyre to the rim and provides rim protection so that very low tyre pressures can be safely used).
I took the lead to see how the rig would handle the first ridge, using second gear. The answer was – OK, so I carried on. One ridge down, eleven to go!
I had a bit of a moment on the side-slope of a limestone blow out at one point, where momentum proved to be the wrong technique, and a slow, careful approach was required, but otherwise things went well. The trick was to have the bike in the right hand rut and the sidecar wheel on the crown. A lot of counter steering to the right was required, to offset the pull of the sidecar to the left, but I made it up all the hills in second gear, except for one, where the Ural ran out of puff, and a quick change to first was required.
We arrived at Eyre Bird Observatory for a late lunch, and were welcomed by the Birdlife Australia Caretakers, who were just completing their three month residential stint, and inducting new volunteers.
They mentioned that a few motorcycle riders had managed to reach the observatory during their time there, but just as many had found it too difficult.
Over a cup of coffee, Dennis, Ronnie, Antoinet and I discussed our options from here,
and agreed that it wouldn’t be sensible to try taking the Ural along the beach route to Twilight Cove. Although the Ural had done very well to get this far, it had been hard work. The decision was to retrace our route through the sand hills, camp at the top of the escarpment, and review our plans overnight.
I started back, while the others went down to the beach to have a look at a wrecked fishing boat. Going through the hills seemed easier the second time, perhaps because I’d got the feel for it, and things went well for 7km.
Then the front tyre went flat with no warning! I managed to keep the rig going until there was room for vehicles to go around me, then sat in the shade pondering the options.
The rest of the crew caught up a few minutes later, and reported that the fishing boat was no longer on the beach.
We considered installing the Ural spare wheel to get me to the camp site, but this would have only been a temporary measure, as I knew the wheel would fit, but it wasn’t compatible with the front brake calliper. If we put the spare on, then the original front wheel would have to be repaired and re-fitted tonight anyway so I could have brakes tomorrow. So Ronnie and Dennis pulled the front wheel off and replaced the tube, there and then, in the sand, while I produced a groundsheet, tools, pump, etc. Thanks guys.
The reason for the flat tyre was that the valve stem had pulled out of the tube due to the low tyre pressure and lack of a rim lock. That being the case, I didn’t want to run low pressure through the last 3km of sand, and risk the same thing happening again, so put 15psi in, and attempted to ride on. But there was no way the bike would manage the ruts with that much pressure in the front tyre, and I repeatedly got bogged, so swallowed my pride and was towed the last 3km to firm ground.
We camped that night at 5 pm, with fantastic views from the top of the escarpment, after what had been a huge day. 110 km of dirt had been travelled in nine hours.
Day five began with a decision to head towards Twilight Cove by following an old track along the top of the escarpment. This track sees very little use, is narrow, overhung with branches and has a lot of exposed limestone. After half an hour I had only managed to go 4 km, because it was extremely rough going on the Ural. My back was sore from the constant pounding, and I knew from previous trips that there was a lot more of this type of country ahead. Dennis was travelling well on the DRZ, and Ronnie and Antoinet were pushing through happily in the Patrol, but I’d had enough. So we said our farewells, and I went back to the previous night’s camp site, while the rest of the crew carried on towards Twilight Cove and beyond. My intention was to head home over the next few days, so I began by cutting up to the Highway, and heading west.
The rest of the day was spent cruising across the Nullarbor at 100kph, past Cocklebiddy, Caiguna, Balladonia and Fraser Range, before camping in the bush, well off the Eyre Highway, to avoid the truck noise.
During a nine hour day, I covered 414 km, of which only 27km was in the dirt.
Next morning I got under way at 7.30 am, refuelled at Norseman an hour later, and continued west on the Hyden–Norseman Road.
By the time I stopped at Disappointment Rock for morning tea the temperature was climbing, and when I pulled in to “The Breakaway” for lunch, it was 43.5 degrees. I didn’t hang around for long, and when leaving, the Ural motor cut out suddenly as I was changing from first to second gear. I rolled the bike into the shade, faced it into the wind, and after a couple of goes it re-started. I suspect this was a momentary glitch with the EFI system, as it didn’t do it again.
I turned south on the Forrestania Road, followed that through to Varley, then headed south west through agricultural country to Newdegate, where a self contained unit at the Caravan Park provided a hot shower and the first good night’s sleep of the trip.
This made it 455 km for a nine hour day, with 316 km of dirt.
Next morning, the sidecar tyre was flat, so I pumped it up and monitored the pressure loss as I packed my gear. It seemed like a slow leak, so I headed for home via Jerramungup, stopping once to check the tyre and again to top up the pressure.
I arrived home at 11.30 am, having done 205 km, of which 66 km was in the dirt. Later, I found that the reason for the sidecar tyre leak was due to the valve stem pulling away from the tube. Dennis, Ronnie and Antoinet completed the Telegraph Line trip to Israelite Bay without any drama, so we all ended up having a memorable time.
What did I learn about the 2014 EFI Ural?
- The fuel economy was very good, ranging from 14.6 to 15.5 km per litre.
- The trip meter registers 10% less than the true distance travelled (I accounted for that in the figures in this report).
- Lack of rim locks means valve stem problems if you run low tyre pressures.
- Using a Tubliss system eliminates problems with running low tyre pressures.
- A fully loaded Ural can handle sandy twin track if the tyre pressures are around 8 psi.
- If tyre pressures are at half their normal value, a fully loaded Ural understeers badly on left hand dirt corners.
- With normal tyre pressures, a Ural handles well on reasonably smooth dirt, gravel and sealed roads.
- A fully loaded Ural has limited suspension travel in corrugations, pot holes and rocks, giving a harsh ride in those situations.
- It’s worth experimenting with the shock absorber spring pre-load settings to improve ride quality in rough conditions.
- The steering damper is fine in the middle settings for most riding conditions, but on rough, fast gravel roads, the stiffest setting was noticeably better.
- A Ural is capable of carrying a heavy load, but as with any sort of motorcycle adventure touring it’s better to keep your gear to a minimum.
Cheers, Geoff.
