Val in Real Life LLC

Tag: rally

Expanding Adventures with a Sidecar
I’ve been toying with the notion of getting a sidecar rig for some time. Quite honestly, those thoughts first surfaced when I was facing the possibility of losing my leg or its ability to handle a two-wheeled machine. As that threat faded, so did the urgency to explore sidecar rig options. The seed was planted though and little musings about it still wafted through my thoughts here and there about the possibilities it might add to my adventuring life.
Those thoughts took greater form as I realized that, regardless of my physical issues, having a sidecar rig in the adventure fleet opens up a treasure trove of possibilities. Most of those involve being able to take non-riding friends out riding. It also means the 80-pound adventure dog can join us on motorcycle trips. Now we don’t have to choose between riding trips without him and non-riding trips with him.
In the end though, sidecars are just fun! They don’t ride like motorcycles or drive like cars—they are their own special category. Even people who dislike motorcycles seem to love sidecars. For some reason, when you slap a tub on the side suddenly it’s the coolest thing ever. There’s simply something about them. You can’t help but smile and wave as they pass. And you can’t help but grin from ear to ear when you’re on one.
Having a sidecar rig opens up new ways to have big adventures.
The adventure dog loves his new ride!
How did the rubber meet the road?
The sidecar seed rattling around in my head wasn’t terribly noisy. It had really settled into an occasional “that would be cool” idea. That all changed in the course of about a day. In that time, notions of the sidecar went from “maybe someday” to being the proud new owner of a rig. Sometimes life simply comes together and I’m not one to second guess or be shy about seizing a unique opportunity.
The opportunity in question fell in my lap while attending my first BMW MOA rally back in July. I had ridden Evie, my BMW F700GS, the 600-plus miles to Salt Lake City for the event. It was a tortuous ride with several days of over 100-degree summer heat. That was followed by several more days pounding the pavement at the Utah State Fair Park in the same oppressive weather. But even with the mental haze of feeling like my brain was being roasted, I couldn’t miss her, my soon-to-be-new-to-me sidecar outfit. Betty. That’s what I call her now. It’s short for Big Betty Blue.
There she sat, impervious to the summer temperatures that were getting the best of me, looking supremely regal with her dark blue paint and red windscreen sash. She showed the wear of a seasoned adventurer but the nuances of a much-loved companion. She oozed character, something I now know she inherited from her owner, Pat. And on her windscreen sat a for sale sign. The seed in my head took root and shot out of the ground to a full-grown redwood in a matter of seconds. My life-partner-in-crime and I looked at each other. No words were necessary to communicate that we were both thinking the same thing.
We called the number on the sign and left a message. Within the hour I was on a test ride with Pat. We inspected the machine, trying to maintain some level of objectivity. The more Pat told us about it, the more we knew we couldn’t pass up this opportunity. He had kept meticulous notes. The build was clearly top-notch. We had no doubt that Pat had taken impeccable care of the rig or of how much he loved it. His changing health was forcing his decision to sell her, though.
Pat is a delightful character. As we listened to his colorful stories about the outfit—where it has been, the reasons behind some of the quirkier details of it, and the process he went through in converting her—we knew we needed to keep the adventures alive. Pat wanted the buyer to be someone who would use it well but also take care of it; someone who wouldn’t run it into the ground but also not leave it languishing in the garage. It became evident quickly that this was not only about the sidecar rig itself. It was about carrying on a legacy. I convinced him I was the person he was looking for. I told him about the blog and how the rig’s adventures would not only continue, but have new life as I shared stories with my readers.
Negotiations were brief and by the next afternoon, we were showing our friends at the rally our new acquisition. Then the inevitable question arose: “How are you going to get it home?” It was certainly a legitimate question to pose to someone who was over 600 miles from home with only a motorcycle for transportation. Fortunately Pat is a fabulous person and agreed to meet us partway between his home in Oregon and our place in Nevada a couple of weeks later. With the help of our toy hauler travel trailer, we carted sweet Betty home, delirious with visions of future adventures. That is, the adventures we would have once we learned how to drive her.
In the sea of wheels at the BMW MOA rally, she stole my heart.
Bringing Betty home.
Getting to know Betty
My two-wheeled motorcycles, Nina (the MotoGuzzi V7 Stone II) and Evie (the BMW F700GS), are both modern machines. They both run like a dream with very little maintenance or fussing about.
Betty is a different story. She’s a 1991 BMW R100RT with a Ural sidecar and over 60,000 miles under her belt. That means I now have to pay attention to things like petcocks and a manual choke. She needs a fair amount of TLC. With the sidecar addition and other changes Pat made to the engine and fuel system, she’s unlike anything else I’m familiar with. So there’s a substantial mechanical learning curve.
Piloting a sidecar rig is also unlike anything else I’m familiar with. The drag of the tub creates asymetric steering dynamics. A left turn is different from a right turn. Some say it’s better if you don’t know how to ride a motorcycle before learning to drive a hack. While you do come in with some preconceived ideas about how it works, they are quickly out the window once you get started. I think knowing how to ride a two-wheeler is an asset, even if you do have to recalibrate a bit on a sidecar combination.
Checking out our new ride at Crossroads BMW Rally in Salt Lake City.
Looking ahead
We’re making good progress learning how to pilot her, care for her, and having the adventure dog learn to sit in the tub calmly. We still have some things to dial in, though. Motorcycle travel will be different with the dog—there are a lot more considerations to be factored in. It’s also an older, more finicky machine so we’ll have to be prepared to deal with that.
And sadly, the truth is that my leg still presents a future limitation. Knowing I’m building proficiency with driving a sidecar rig now gives me great comfort that it will keep my riding and adventuring life going even if I do eventually lose the ability to ride a motorcycle in the future.
Stay tuned! New adventures lie ahead! Have a look through the gallery below for more details about my beautiful Betty.
Checking out our new ride at Crossroads BMW Rally in Salt Lake City.
Pat made a special blanket for his wife to use in the tub. It has a small pocket at the end so you can hold it down with your feet.
Pat used an old belt to redesign the lashings on the sash.
Betty’s custom front suspension. She’s optimized for sidecaring.
Pat added a regulator for the auxilliary fuel tank, which holds another seven gallons of gas.
Little touches like a Mexican five-peso coin on one carburetor and a Canadian toonie on the other give Betty so much character.
The special hand-crafted luggage rack that Pat warned us to avoid ever taking apart because we probably won’t be able to put it back together.
Pat’s wife commented that with all the money he spent on the rig he could buy a Cadillac. So he added a commemorative hood ornament.
The meticulous notes that Pat kept on Betty’s conversion and maintenance.
Sidecar adventure dog!
Trips to the farmer’s market just got a whole lot more fun!
Riding in the tub in the twisties is a pure adrenaline rush.
Having a sidecar rig opens new ways to have big adventures.
Betty’s first adventure… geocaching in Nevada.
The pooch gets his first sit in the tub.
Pat is a delightful character. I promised him I’d keep the adventures alive.
Bringing Betty home.
The hand over.
In the sea of wheels at the BMW MOA rally, she stole my heart.
My newest geocaching adventure-mobile is a sidecar rig.
December 12, 2017
Joining Progressive for Bikes, Blues, and BBQ
A couple of weeks ago, I partnered with Progressive Insurance to ride to my first major motorcycle rally. Since my motorcycling interests skew towards adventure travel, most of my experience has been with events of the overlanding variety. I knew Bikes, Blues, and BBQ in Fayetteville, Arkansas would be a completely different beast than my typical haunts of Overland Expo and Horizons Unlimited.
So why go to event where I’d be a fish-out-of-water? For exactly that reason. To step out of my own comfort zone, experience a different side of the motorcycling community, and to partner with a company that supports women riders.
Bikes, Blues, and BBQ takes over Fayetteville for the weekend as 400,000+ attendees roll in for the rally.
At the Rally…
As an outlier to this part of the motorcycling community, I was in a unique position to simply people-watch and experience the rally as a newbie. Ultimately, a rally like this is an opportunity for like-minded people to come together to share in a common passion. Even if our motivations and approaches to the sport differ, we’re all riders and that’s a very large common ground.
Fabulous blues set the tone for the rally.
Bikes, Blues, and BBQ is the 3rd largest motorcycle rally in the nation. The events within the rally were plentiful and included things like group rides, music, a barbeque contest, vendors, a lawn mower pull, a motorcycle parade, a vintage car show, bikini and karaoke contests, and a Battle of the Bikes custom motorcycle contest. All of this takes place across four different venues, with the hub being historic Dickson Street in downtown Fayetteville, Arkansas.
Much of the time I simply soaked in the atmosphere of the rally and chatted with some very interesting characters. That was certainly the highlight for me. The music is a crucial aspect to this particular rally and was absolutely top-notch, setting a lively tone for the entire event. Although I won’t deny there was also lots of eating happening on my part since the food offerings were quite tempting. And I love to eat.
One of the events I spent some time in was the Battle of the Bikes. It was truly eye-opening. The level of craft involved in these motorcycles is astounding. I live in a motorcycling world in which form comes a distant second to function. In adventure travel, your motorcycle is first-and-foremost a tool. To spend time amongst machines that are painstakingly constructed purely for the value of the spectacle is a new world to me. It’s not my world as a motorcyclist but I certainly appreciate and respect the level of craftsmanship of these bikes. Even for the attendees simply there to enjoy the rally, riding and exhibition are quite often equal parts of the motivation for their motorcycling.
Dickson Street in full motorcycling glory.
Having said all that, there were some parts that were not terribly enjoyable. The barbeque contest at the fairgrounds turned out to be a frustration. It was disorganized and difficult to navigate for many of us. I found out I was not alone in my dissatisfaction as I overheard conversations and spoke with others. One of the organizers reminded an attendee that the event was for charity but, even so, I don’t think that’s an adequate explanation for a mismanaged event. If it’s a hassle and frustration, attendees will not be inclined to return, good cause or not.
Another aspect I struggled with was the noise. This is largely a Harley-Davidson crowd, a subset of the motorcycling community that embraces “loud pipes.” Photographing on the street amongst all of the bikes at one point became physically painful and I had to retreat to find another way to bring images and the story out of this rally.
In the end, it was healthy for me to step out of my realm of the motorcycling community and be a part of this one. I’m an ATGATT chick (All The Gear, All The Time) and I was the anomaly. It was valuable to set aside my personal feelings and experiences to understand another part of motorcycling. I don’t embrace it but it’s all personal choice in the end. And in spite of our different philosophies, these are nice people who welcomed me as the oddity.
Dickson Street in downtown Fayetteville.
One of the lovely touches of Fayetteville, painted utilities and storm drains add vibrance and charm to the city.
Fayetteville, Arkansas plays host to the throngs attending Bikes, Blues, and BBQ each year and does it with style.
Lots of beautiful motorcycles are to be found at Bikes, Blues, and BBQ. Remember your earplugs, though.
One of the many custom machines in the Battle of the Bikes.
I didn’t actually get my chops on much barbeque at the rally but what I did have was all kinds of yummy.
Progressive…
Bikes, Blues, and BBQ is known as the “Rally with a Purpose,” providing support to many charities over its 15-year span. As the title sponsor of the event, Progressive’s role was quite large, as you can imagine. From free parking to a benefit breakfast featuring “Flo” waffles and beyond, it was a treat to watch and be a part of their efforts to develop relationships with the motorcycling community in a very personal way.
The Progressive booth at the rally was “Flo’s Chop Shop” offering manicures, boot shining, and beard trims. It was a unique and charming way to engage with rally attendees. The staff kept the atmosphere fun and light even when rally-goers were hot and tired, including myself. Watching the action at the booth proved to be one of my favorite parts of the rally.
Yours truly checking out Flo’s Chop Shop at Bikes, Blues, and BBQ.
Progressive Pat running the show at Flo’s Chop Shop.
Attendees were treated to boot shines at Flo’s Chop Shop, a welcome break for this rally police officer’s feet.
Lorraine was one of the volunteers at the Progressive Parking Lot. She kept a delightful smile and attitude in spite of a long, hot day tending the lot.
My Nina spent most of the time at the rally resting on her laurels at Progressive’s free parking venue.
Downtown Fayetteville was transformed into a motorcycling mecca.
Mad love to Progressive for their support and the chance to expand my view of the motorcycling world. Here’s a little video of my time at the rally and my journey there. You can also visit my Bikes, Blues, and BBQ Flickr album for more shots of the event.

Disclosure: I partnered with Progressive for Bikes, Blues & BBQ.