I have an irrational desire for a new motorcycle. I don’t suppose, under ordinary circumstances, that wanting a new scoot would be classified as irrational. I mean, this sort of thing happens to motorcycle people all the time. The sophisticated esthetics and mechanical elegance of the latest offering from Kawasaki, or BMW, or Honda seduce us and it would be crazy not to want that new motorcycle.
In my case I’m not sure. I find that I’m obsessed by what someone has called “the coelacanth of motorcycles,” the greatest motorcycle of 1942, a Russian copy of BMW military motorcycle that by today’s standards has the mechanical elegance of a tractor: The Ural.
It’s really too slow for a run down the interstate but it’s a perfectly adequate ‘blue highways’ bike. A reverse gear and a driven sidecar wheel makes it the master of every dirt road and logging trail. It’s really quirky to want this bike. Maybe that’s why I want it.