Ned's Sled

Ned’s sled

UP FRONT

David Edwards

I BLAME THIS ON PETER EGAN-ALTHOUGH an 1RS refund check and a chance parking-lot encounter had a lot to do with it, too.

Every Saturday morning up the coast in Huntington Beach a loosely knit col-, lection of hot-rodders called the “Donut Derelicts” meets at a small strip mall to swap lies and ogle the hardware. A circuit of the parking lot reveals at least a hundred cars, everything from showwinning customs to jalopies that might have been dragged off the dry lake beds that very morning. Every once in a while, the boys from Motor City even drop by with a concept car or two for a little informal focus-grouping. In by 7 out by 9, it’s the best free car show going.

On this particular Saturday a.m., I’ve arrived on Cobra Engineering’s “LoStar” custom, a chopped Yamaha Road Star (see “American Flyers,” this issue) that gets a big thumbs-up from the assembled Derelicts. One of the more interested viewers is Bruce Enderle, an old friend who builds a pretty mean custom motorcycle himself-you may remember his Banshee-powered YSR50, winner of the Street Specials class at the 1997 Anaheim Cycle World Show. During the course of our conversation, Bruce lets it be known that he’s thinning down his collection of bikes.

“Really,” says I almost involuntarily, “what are you getting rid of?”

“Probably my Yamaha sidecar rig. It takes up a lot of garage space and I don’t ride it much.”

Uh-oh. Just the week previous, we’d put to bed the June issue containing Peter’s story about touring Baja, Mexico, by Harley sidecar. His description of three-wheeling was still fresh in my memory: “It’s a cross between a carnival ride and a low-flying biplane, but with a perspective on space and speed you never get from either. It’s addictive.” This was like tag-team game fishing. Egan sets the hook, Enderle reels me in.

My new “combo” (a little hacker lingo) is a 1983 Yamaha Venture avec California Sidecar, the Friendship I model to be exact. Nudging a half-ton, it’s a lot of machinery for less than the price of a new Buell Blast. The hack itself is a jaunty little unit-think drop-nose bathtub with fender flare and you’d be close. Girlfriend Peggy is mildly amused by the purchase, though she much prefers the speed and lean angles of a solo. Ned, our year-old English cocker spaniel (smallest of the sporting “gundogs’-imagine a downsized springer spaniel, but more streamlined and, at the risk of inciting hate mail, more intelligent-looking) is absolutely over the moon. Likes nothing better than hopping in the car, hanging his forepaws over the gunnels and biting at the wind, long ears twirling in the slipstream, jowls puffed out like little canine canards.

As one lady at obedience class (Ned’s, not mine) said, “Ya know, most people are satisfied buying their dogs a frisbee or a chew toy.”

Actually, I’m having as much fun as Ned, despite the CW staff’s good-natured, “You can tell you’re an old fart when...” ribbing. Operating a sidecar safely-neither “riding” nor “driving” seems quite the right verb-brings with it the need to master a whole different set of skills, always an entertaining challenge. But the Friendship is fairly benign as outfits go, no doubt helped by an addon steering damper apparently stolen from the Jolly Green Giant’s screen door.

Not all is sweetness and joy on the handling front, of course. In particular, off-camber downhill decreasing-radius right turns with no one in the sidecar (Ned’s 30 pounds don’t help much) are cause for night sweats. But once you get over the fear of being pile-driven into the asphalt, it’s possible to hike the car into the air and “fly” it for long distances, impressing passengers and bystanders to no end. Though Ned, I must say, seems rather cavalier about the

whole exercise, apparently unaware of the considerable pilot skill involved...

I’m also enjoying immensely the host Venture, the XVZ12 version without audio equipment or onboard air compressor for suspension adjustment. Introduced in ’83, the Venture was a milestone motorcycle, the first designedfrom-the-ground-up luxury-tourer. Honda’s Gold Wing, you may remember, started life as a stripper, a fact exploited by one Craig Vetter who made himself a millionaire with all manner of touring accessories (including his “Terraplane” sidecar) for the Wing. Honda was quick to offer its own line of fairings, saddlebags, etc., but these were very much tacked-on and not designed-in.

There was no such thing as a naked Venture, and that integrated approach (adopted in 1984 by the “Mk.II” Gold Wing) paved the way for the supertourers we have today. Also helping was the Yamaha’s V-Four powerhouse of a motor, later to gain fame pumpedup even more and installed in the VMax musclebike. At 12.5 seconds, the Venture was a full click of the stopwatch quicker through the quarter-mile than the Wing, and top-gear roll-ons were a laugher, the Yamaha taking just 5.3 seconds to get from 60 to 80 mph, while the (admittedly taller geared) Honda lumbered along with a 10.1second performance. Not that I’d know now, but the Venture was also at home in the swervery. “Vibration-free engine performance and comfortable, spacious accommodations make the Venture equal to the best touring bikes,” wrote Cycle magazine in ’83. “Its strong, broad powerband and its delightfully agile handling make it better.”

It’s a good-looking motorcycle, too, even 17 years later, with a rakish fairing and nicely sculpted luggage. In fact, it’s not hard to imagine the current luxo-tourer of choice, BMW’s K1200LT, gleaning a little inspiration from the Venture. Also makes you wonder how good the Venture would be today if Yamaha hadn’t frozen development in the mid-’80s and discontinued the model altogether in 1993.

Anyway, I’m having a good time dropping in on the wacky world of sidecars. Think I’ll keep the Venture for a year or two, then move it on to someone else curious about life with a third wheel.

With Ned’s permission, of course.