I like sidecars. 

They are unwieldy, awkward, off-centre, totally unique, and loads of fun!  

For years I had harboured a half-formed and totally un-researched notion that involved a sidecar rig, a long trip and my German shepherd dog.  This idea gradually took on a life of its own, not-with-standing the minor problems of not owning a sidecar rig and never having driven one! 

Fast forward a couple of years to a lovely R100S BMW that I had acquired and ridden many miles in considerable discomfort. I had lusted after this model for some years based entirely on the looks of the bike. Sadly when I finally owned and rode one, I discovered much to my horror that my arms and wrists did not approve of the riding position at all! Then a timely add appeared on the IBMWR website listing a 1982 R100RT/sidecar rig for trade for “something interesting” about the time that I was considering what to do with the R100S. As the saying goes “the rest is history”. 

I trailered the ‘S’ to Marquette in the U.P. in absolutely miserable April weather and met with the vendor of ‘the rig’ – which he was also hauling by trailer. We poked and looked and talked and swapped bikes. Neither machine was started that day – it was just too darn miserable. 

Mid-June 2003 found the rig and I (sans dog) in Midland, Mich., to partake in the Advanced Sidecar Course as sponsored by the Evergreen Foundation. I expressed my doubts to the instructor about me taking the ‘advanced’ course. He asked me how far I had driven to get there (450miles) and replied that I definitely didn’t need the introductory course! It was time and money well spent – and good fun besides. 

Minor modifications and general tweaking of the set-up followed – and then time devoted to passenger training. This was the easy part as Cassie (dog) saw no reason to ever abandon her own chauffeur-driven, open-air vehicle. We did short trips and had a lot of fun that summer. I even became moderately proficient as a sidecar pilot. 

The following spring on the last day of May we pointed the rig west and waved goodbye to husband and house.  Five weeks and 8,000 miles is a lot of riding and only once or twice did my passenger complain. Turns out that she had a much better bladder than I, so pit stops were at my discretion and, as I stopped for a stretch break every hour, she had plenty of time to do doggy things and stretch her legs as well. This was one of the most relaxing and rewarding camping trips that I have ever undertaken and I think we were both sorry to see it end. 

With callus disregard for Cassie, I sold the rig the following spring (trip was a success, time to move on …). However, what was not anticipated by me was the utter dejection of my dog without her sidecar. Every time I picked up my helmet we re-played the pouting and panting and whining to go … she even went so far as to climb, uninvited, aboard the passenger seat of my solo bike! So I bought another chair and started the process of creating a rig from scratch. Unfortunately, the following winter we tragically lost Cassie to a sudden medical calamity. Now what? Sidecar and no passenger … not good. 

Springing ahead to 2008, now “Elfie” has discovered the joys of the open-air ride. Although still a pup at just under two, she is a reliable (mostly) and happy passenger. We still have minor issues about her preferred nose-in-the-wind riding position, but I will win that argument in time. No major trips planned at the moment, but we are having lots of fun – and that is the main thing. 

Elfie and the new rig. 

I have deluded myself into believing that my dog was partly the motivation for getting another rig. Truth be known, I am absolutely hooked! Sidecars are insidious things: completely illogical and definitely not motorcycles – and yet they are more fun that I ever thought possible. One more unanticipated reward of driving a rig is that everyone smiles and waves. No-one who drives a sidecar could possibly be perceived as a threat: children want to ride, grandmothers wave and smile, elderly men come over to chat and relate tales of sidecars and motorcycles … Putting a smile on a stranger’s face just by driving past – Now that is a rush! -- Alison Green 

I’ve been following the “Found on E-bay” blogs on this site lately, but haven’t yet been tempted. Good thing too, as my shop is now over-full of motorcycles – the latest addition to the flock having appeared out of the blue last week (almost literally). It's a long story – which started innocently over a cup of coffee with long-time friends; the usual topics of family, acquaintances, weather, travel and such lead to the question “Are you still into bikes?” I responded with positive noises. Then the conversation stopper of “Do you want a bike?” 

A bit open-ended for my liking but questioning only resulted in the details that it was a 450 (maybe) and it was blue! 

Well, OK – we’ll go and have a look… especially since the shed in question was less than 2 miles from my home. So arrangements were made to meet at 0900 the following morning at said brother-in-law’s garden shed. 

Cobwebs and mouse nest aside, there sat a very dirty but intact 1982 Honda CM450 Custom – and it had been languishing there since 1993. Unloved and untended. Did I want it? Ownership and manual were included in the deal! Apparently space in said garden shed was becoming of paramount importance (due to a new riding lawnmower in the family). The simple answer would have been NO, but like an abandoned puppy, it just couldn’t be left there to suffer. So home it came (without the mouse-nest – we have our own, thank you). 

An afternoon with a water bucket, WD-40, rags and fine steel wool and it has become a very clean looking little bike with good chrome, acceptable paint, and a seized engine. (I knew that the engine was seized before I brought it home). One week later with the help of some tranny fluid on top of the pistons, and some vigorous bumping in 5^th gear, the engine is now un-stuck. The clutch plates are also now functioning as they were designed to do. The battery was removed and sent to disposal. The oil and filter have been changed, the oil pan cleaned, the  plugs changed, and a  minor bend in signal arm straightened. It looks good and it needs a home, but I have neither the inclination nor the space to work on two projects this winter, as I already have a 1969 R60/5 BMW on the work bench. But finding a home for an almost-ready-to-start bike might be tricky.   

It will make someone a very nice ride – but it also needs a home that can deal with a 25 year old bike that will need some attention and on-going maintenance. And November in northern Ontario is not the time of year to be thinking motorcycling as snowflakes are immanent. I can’t bear to put it back out in the cold for the winter, and it is far too snug in the shop with its stable mates. (I like to be able to actually work in my shop – not just squeeze around parked machinery.) What to do? And why did I get into this in the first place? 

I once owned a 1973 Honda 350 – my first bike, and I loved it dearly for the one season that it was my ride. Since then, I have been riding BMW Airheads. I sort-of know how they work and can usually keep them running  – solid, clunky, faithful and quirky – So why introduce a Japanese twin into the mix? Truth be told, I just don’t like to see good machinery left to rot. And these are good little bikes if they are treated well and ridden within their limits. If it does indeed spend the winter with us, I will be obliged to take the project to the next stage and try to get it running. Damn! How did I get myself into this sort of corner in the first place? -- Alison Green