|Original article sent to Our Wisconsin magazine|
|2019 - The Quest Continues|
|Riding the Northwest Sector - June 2019|
|The Final Drive Breakdown & Repair|
|The Final Drive
Replacement - Part 1
Ride Web page and Photos
Dogs -published in June-July Our Wisconsin magazine
Rustic Roads, a dog and a Russian motorcycle
The Ural is the only motorcycle that comes from the factory (in the Ural mountains of Russia) with a sidecar attached. I’ve always had a fondness for sidecars; I like the look, the versatility & the uniqueness of them. Plus, a sidecar gives more protection from the wind & weather for the passenger and is more stable in bad weather.
The extra stability from the 3rd wheel is what makes a sidecar motorcycle rig (commonly called a “hack”) perfect for cruising the Rustic Roads – some of which are pretty “rustic”. Soft sand, deep ruts & loose gravel, so often found on the Rustic Roads, are the bane of 2 wheel motorcyclists. The Ural, with a top speed of maybe 70 mph – going down hill with a tail wind – is an ideal machine for riding the back-roads. It’s like they were made for each other. The light traffic makes them a great place to learn to ride a very different kind of machine.
After a few short trips by myself & teaching my yellow Lab, Annie, to wear her goggles and other safety gear – we set off to ride some of the roads in Winnebago and neighboring counties. Those day trips went so well, we headed out for some of the rustic Roads farther from home in Oconto, Green Lake, Adams & Marquette counties. In a couple months, we had ridden the 10 Rustic Roads required to get the Rustic Roads Motorcycle Tour Patch, so I sent in pictures and requested 2 patches. After all, Annie did ride all 10 roads, too.
Over the summer we road a total of
15 of the Rustic Roads and by fall, we had our
patches. Annie may be the first dog ever to have
gotten the patch. I don’t think Annie
enjoys the scenery as much as I do, but she loved
meeting all the people who would take her picture,
running on the beach and swimming in Lake Michigan or
sniffing out squirrels in a new woods. And she loved to
ride with her nose in the wind – something
and bikers have in common. By the end of summer, we
were riding several hundred miles and 10-12 hours in a
With the first year having gone so well and feeling more competent on this off-center motorcycle, Annie & I will set out this year to ride more of the Rustic Road system together, with the ultimate goal of riding all 120 Roads some day. A fun little quest to see the Wisconsin countryside, take some pictures of our beautiful state & see some new places.
Most every biker will
tell you, it's not about the destination, it's about
So if you see us in a gas station, or on the road – be sure and say HI. And please – watch for motorcycles while you are driving - especially on the often narrow Rustic Roads.
|Annie and I - geared up and ready
checking out the next road while she waits for me to take
the "proof" picture.
|Annie looking down Rustic Road
her patch on her harness
Once in while, I bite off more than I can chew – on purpose. It’s good to challenge yourself, I think – otherwise, how do you know what your limits are? And that is my logic behind my ongoing quest to ride all 120 WI Rustic Roads and my first long ride of 2019.
There is a loosely organized, small gathering of Ural owners near Ellsworth, WI in a few days. Ellsworth is located near the Mississippi River, along Hwy 10 in the Northwest quadrant of the WI Rustic Roads system. Typically, I think more than 3 people is a crowd and I avoid rallies and “gatherings” generally. But it’s sort of an “off-center” group of people that buy these Russian bikes and I thought it might be fun to meet some fellow Ural owners.
Getting there is a bit of a jaunt, so I decided to make a road trip of it as long as I was there. In this 3rd year of my personal Rustic Roads goal - I am going to try and ride the 33 Rustic Roads in the 19 counties that make up the NW quadrant. My 5 day plan is to ride NW from Winneconne on Wed. and try to ride the Rustic Roads that are the farthest away on Wed, Thurs & Friday morning. Friday I plan to head south and by nightfall, I plan to be in Ellsworth for Ural group gathering. Then head out Saturday to ride the Rustic Roads in the St. Croix area, along Old Man River and the Minnesota border. Sunday I plan to head toward home, maybe hit a couple roads I may have missed. In 5 days I will have criss-crossed NW Wisconsin from the UP of Michigan to the Minnesota border.
At least – that’s the plan, such as it is. When traveling by motorcycle, I never make reservations (hotel or campground), there are no planned meal breaks, gas stops, scheduled stops or itinerary of any kind. You can never know how many miles you will be able to travel when you are riding a motorcycle. Bad weather can slow you down and a breakdown can literally throw a wrench in your plan. I discovered it’s best to keep plans very loose and flexible when traveling on 2 wheels – or 3 in this this case - which is sort of the whole point of it.
Now, this might not seem like a big adventure, after all, some of the Rustic Roads are only a few miles long. But traveling on a Ural with a dog adds some unique challenges. The Ural is not a high-speed cruiser, so state, county and local roads will make up the route. Many of the county and local Wisconsin roads have no shoulder, no center line, lots lot curves and little traffic. Sometime the roads you ride in order to get TO the Rustic Road is just as scenic as the Rustic Road itself. This adds to the enjoyment, but also adds to the travel time. Of course, Annie will need stops to relieve herself, get a snack, stretch her legs & have some fun. But at least she never asks to stop at a garage sale or flea market. And, after all, it’s not about the destination, it’s about the ride.
Then there is the navigating to the
Rustic Roads themselves. Most of these roads are in
out-of-the-way locations, so just getting to each one
will require lots of back road driving & navigating.
Once in while the signs designating the Rustic Road are
missing; I’ve found them in the ditch or not at all.
Other times the sign is barely visible, hidden behind
trees & overgrowth or just poorly marked. This being
the case - I added the beginning and ending coordinates
in my GPS to help find each road. I’ll also bring along
my trusty Gazetteer, since quite often the GPS &
cell phone don’t work up north. There are lots of dead
zones on these north-woods roads. Paper maps are still
the best & most reliable back-up when your
electronics fail to function. A Gazetteer is a large
book of maps for an entire state which shows just about
every paved and gravel road in that state. They also
show boat landing, fire service roads, state and
National forest land, etc.
I would be doing this ride solo, sort of. My Lab Annie would be my monkey (sidecar slang for the passenger in the car), but no other bikes & riders joining us. My wife, Velma, and I have traveled much of the country east of the Mississippi by motorcycle. We have done some group rides, but we both prefer the freedom that comes from traveling by ourselves. No group decisions on motels, food stops or sight-seeing attractions allows you to travel at your own pace and see the things that you want to see without having to take a vote or listen to someone complain about the stop. One 12 day trip was over 4,000 miles from our home in WI down to North Carolina, up the Blue Ridge Parkway and over to Connecticut, then across Ontario and back home. We saw a lot a beautiful scenery and met some very interesting people, but there were some long days in the saddle, too. We both returned with blisters on our……...gluteus maximus. She still refers to that as “The Vacation from Hell”. Later trips to Illinois, Arkansas and Mississippi were less of an endurance ride and we allowed time to make the trip more leisurely. We stopped a little more often to see the sights and smell the roses along the way. We rode the Natchez Trace coming back from Mississippi on one trip. We liked to stop and visit museums and caves wherever we saw them. Museums are always air-conditioned and caves are a naturally cool and welcome reprieve on a hot summer day spent riding a motorcycle.
But a trip like this is a bit too much for Velma to ride with me now. In October of 2017 she had open heart surgery and has not fully recovered her strength yet. Riding for hours each day and days in a row as a passenger on a motorcycle is more physical than one might think. It was one of the reasons I bought the Ural in the first place, thinking it would be more enjoyable for her in the sidecar than on the back of our Venture. And she does like shorter rides around town in the sidecar, but longer trips are still too taxing on her physically. Camping was also part of the agenda this trip and sleeping on the ground has never been her idea of fun. So with her blessing and her warnings to “ride safe” - Annie and I set out for a few days on the road.
Whether I can ride them all or not will depend on weather, the bike running well & how many times I get lost or miss the turn. I am taking minimal camping gear and food. Of course, Annie will be along for the duration. I’m not sure what the total mileage will be or how many hours we’ll be riding each day. Fingers crossed – it should be fun. Stay tuned.
Sometimes our adventures don’t go or end like we plan. After all, it’s the unplanned, unexpected, unforeseen and even the unfortunate things that make a trip unforgettable. And those are the things that teach us about who we are, things try our patience and often force us out of our comfort zone. If everything goes exactly as expected, if all the items are checked off your “to-do list” and nothing unfortuitous happens along the journey – it’s sort of an “un-adventure”, isn’t it? It’s said we learn more from our failures than our successes, and that’s true about ourselves and our machines.
Three days into a 5 day motorcycle trip around northwest WI, the final drive on my Ural decided to break down. In those 3 days with Annie, my yellow lab and motorcycle traveling companion, we had logged 995 miles & ridden 25 of the 33 Rustic Roads in the sector. The plan had been to ride all 33 Rustic Roads on this trip – but plans change. As we were coasting down a long, smooth stretch of highway 10 – a loud BAM from the engine & drive train area followed by some metal-on-metal grinding noise was the first sign of trouble. Then the noise stopped, I still had power, engine sounded fine …….. maybe a rock popped up and hit the driveshaft, I thought. Nope. A few more miles, another BAM and it felt like something hit my leg. Still – no change in power. At this point, your brain begins to troubleshoot as you ride along, trying to decipher the noises and symptoms into potential causes. We get thru Ellsworth, WI without incident or noise and downshift into first gear at the light. I am less than 5 miles from the little rally of Ural owners now – maybe I can nurse it there. As I pull away when the light turns green – there is more horrible metallic grinding noise and I am unable to shift into 2nd gear. I coast to a wide gravel spot on the shoulder and shut off the bike. Looking for the cause – I see a bolt emerging from the final drive. The final drive is what transfers power from the engine and driveshaft to the rear wheel. And that bolt should not be poking out of the case. Something broke loose inside the final drive, ricocheted around until if made a hole in the side of the case. This is not good – this is not a repair that can be made at the roadside – it’s a trip ender.
A call to one of the other riders I had planned to meet and 4 bikes with riders flock to my location – and each confirms the damage and its severity. After some difficulty getting roadside assistance to show up – we manage to get the bike towed to the campground. I set up camp in the near dark, feed Annie and eat some jerky for dinner. Now it’s at this point you find out who your true friends are. Which one can you call at 7 p.m. , ask to drive ½ way across the state to rescue you the next day? I am thankful I have at least 1 friend that drove more than 4 hours with his truck & trailer to come pick me up and haul the bike back home. Bless you, Mike – I am in your debt.
That’s how the trip ended, but it began with great promise and for 990 miles at least – it was trouble free. The impending rain in the forecast all week failed to show, the traffic was light, the bike ran like a clock and we made good time. I did not plan a route or have determined stops – I really had no idea how long it would take to locate & ride some of the roads, or which towns might have gas or hotels. The general plan was to ride northwest, then north, then zigzag west to east across the sector going from one Rustic Road to the next closest Rustic Road. So I plotted the end points of each Rustic Road into my GPS and marked each on my Gazetteer, just in case the GPS failed, and off we went. After completing each Rustic Road, I entered the waypoint for the next one into the GPS, it plotted the route and we rode on.
Leaving at 8:00 in the morning, we found our first Rustic Road just outside of Neilsville about 2 hours later. Rustic Road #76 was a gravel road and not all that remarkable. I was passed by a group riding ATV’s and after a few minutes I came upon them again, stopped at a junction in the road looking at their map. The Rustic Road made a jog here and since there was no sign designating which turn would keep me on #76, I needed to look at a map, too. Since the ATV riders had a map out already I asked them if they knew which way was the Rustic Road. It seems they were looking for a way get back to town because one of the riders had a tire that was going flat and they needed a gas station to repair it. I carry a small air compressor in the trunk of the Ural, so I offered to put some air in his tire. Annie was anxious to get out and greet the new friends, so after a few minutes, the tire was aired up and Annie had made sure everyone got a chance to pet her. We all wished each other good luck and went our separate ways. One of the first rules of the Biker Code – never leave another rider stranded. I believe it’s good karma to help someone out whenever you can and that would certainly be proven true in a few days when it was my turn to beak down.
We made good time and after finishing 4 more Rustic Roads, we were in the town of Mercer by 4:30 pm. This was better progress than I anticipated, so we rode #100 up to the MI border, turned around and road down into Hurley. It was still only 5:30, so I decided to push on to Mellen. It’s a fair size town – I reasoned there would be a hotel room available on a Wed. night. Except there are no hotels in Mellen, I was told by a nice older couple. The next town on Hwy 77 was Crab Lake and they were sure there was a motel there – so on we rode. In Crab Lake, there was a motel, and it was booked up. No rooms at the inn – they had all been taken by a nice group of folks up from Illinois who came up to ride 4-wheelers on the WI trails. By now it’s 8:00 pm and the shadows are long and the deer are getting more numerous. The group at the motel said they thought there was another motel between Crab Lake and Hayward. And there may have been, but I came to the my next Rustic Road - #111 – first. It was getting late and I needed some place to stop, eat and rest. The sign for Rustic Road #111 also had a National Forest Campground sign pointing down the same road. I really did not look forward to setting up camp in the dark, but I was out of options. The road was a gravel forest service road, which means a top speed of 20 mph if I want to keep the fillings in my teeth, so by the time we got 5 miles down the road to the Moose Lake campground, it was after 9: pm. And dark…….it gets very dark early in the big pine woods. I found an unoccupied campsite and set up camp on Moose Lake in the light from the motorcycle headlights. Day 1 was over 13 ½ hours of riding and 450 miles – a long day by motorcyclist standards, but even longer since much of it was on gravel or secondary roads.
Annie is an
experienced sidecar dog, but had never been camping
before, so she was not used to the variety of animal
sounds & smells that bombarded her senses. While
I set up camp, she investigated every scent,
listened to every owl hoot and tree frog and wanted
to go down every animal trail her nose discovered.
When we got into the tent for the night – that’s
when the coyotes started signing and put her on high
alert. She finally laid down next to me on her pad
and we got some rest. Thursday was overcast &
cool, so after some hot coffee and jerky for
breakfast, I repacked the load. Knowing I was low on
gas and just a few miles from having to go to
reserve – I poured one of the 2 gallons of spare gas
I was carrying into the fuel tank. I double checked
to make sure we left a clean camp and back on the
gravel road just after 8:00 am the next day.
Now, I will be the first to tell you – not all these Rustic Roads are full of amazing scenery or some spectacular & unique attraction. In fact, I cannot say why one gravel, washboard Forest Service road receives the high honor and the next one doesn’t. The scenery was always nice along these roads, but like most of the scenery in WI, rarely dramatic or spectacular. Lakes, rivers and woodlands make up much of the pastoral beauty of Wisconsin, and it makes up much of the scenery on the Rustic Roads. Some of the Rustic Roads are smooth and well maintained, traveling alongside beautiful rivers & lakes or damp, cool woods where the trees arch over the roadway and sunlight dapples the black pavement. But some are in terrible shape, full of patches, potholes, ridges and cracks. Some had speed limits that can only be described as “aspirational” - because if one actually drove 45 mph on some of these roads – parts would fall off your motorcycle. On many of these “paved” roads – 25-35 mph was the best I could do and still maintain control of the motorcycle and not bounce Annie out of the sidecar. Some were so curvy with one blind corner after another, that there was never an opportunity to reach the speed limit.
Don’t get me wrong here, some of the roads were fantastic, from both a scenery and motorcycling perspective. Roads that were smooth with almost continuous curves and no traffic are a 2 wheeled motorcyclist dream and a lot of fun on a sidecar bike as well. But with the sidecar, you can’t lean into that curve until your footpads scrape pavement – you have to “power thru” a corner so you stay on your side of the road. Coming too fast around a blind left corner will put you in the oncoming traffic lane and get you dead quickly. Coming in too hot around a blind right hand turn can cause the sidecar to become airborne. This is called “flying the chair” and while an impressive skill on a flat, smooth paved surface – it can be a trip or life killer on a narrow, poorly paved road with no margin for error. Should you hit a pothole or bad bump, gravel or sand while the sidecar is in the air, you can quickly loose control & crash. At a minimum, your bike will be damaged. At a maximum, the bike can flip over into the oncoming traffic or take you, your dog and your gear down the side of the hill - ending your adventure. I did my best to NOT do that. And I can tell you from experience, navigating a steep downhill grade with a blind right hand curve at the bottom, which you discover at the last second is also covered in sand………. that, my friends, is a lesson I only have to learn once. Sliding thru thru the curve and fighting to keep the chair down and in my lane - I was wishing I’d have scrubbed off more speed before I hit the corner. Take it from me – on the Scare-the-Crap-Out-of-You scale - with 10 being a “change your underwear” event – that curve was a 9.5. Lesson learned – reduce speed early when approaching a blind right hand corner.
As with most motorcycling trips – it’s less about where you are going to end up and more about how you get there. Taking roads less traveled is the best way to enjoy the ride. A lot of the really great riding came on the small, rural roads that you have to travel just to get to the Rustic Roads. It was there you find excellent pavement with little traffic, challenging curves, picturesque farms and little towns with friendly people, smiling and waving at the old man and his dog riding a sidecar motorcycle as we pass through their town. And it is here that I truly miss not having my wife Velma riding with me. Annie is great rider who never complains about much of anything, but she cannot take that amazing shot of the sun setting on a lake or a mural painted on the side of a barn or any of the 1,000’s of other fantastic pictures of scenery, people & places Velma has taken over the years from the back of our motorcycles. While I am focused on the traffic or the next turn or navigating – Velma was free to focus on taking pictures of the landscape and other interesting subjects that we rode past. She would catch beautiful images of things I never even saw.
Now, as I zip by a lake with the sun sparkling off the slight chop on it’s surface – all I can do is think - that would have made a great picture. Velma would have remembered to take a picture of the dogs and folks at the Blacksmith Motel – I thought of it after we had left. She would have taken more pictures of the other Ural riders at our little rally or of the campsite the first night. And she could have provided more conversation than my GPS is capable of. While I grumbled at her desire to stop at a junk shop or garage sale – it added to the memories we share today. I miss her voice in my ear as I cruise down the road - “Did you see that??” and knowing I would get to see the picture later. I miss not being able to share these new experiences with her or having her tell me - “you took that corner kind of fast.”
If Velma had been along, she would have gotten more pictures of the numerous wildlife we saw while riding, too. Some of it too close for comfort, like the numerous does with their spotted fawns that crossed our path. A pair of mature bald eagles feeding on a deer in the middle of the road was quite a sight as they took to the air at my approach. Fox and grouse and wild turkeys also made appearances. And there were a couple of bunnies and squirrels that managed to keep just out of Annie’s reach as they scooted in front of the sidecar.
I came off of Rustic Road #6 running on reserve for several miles and the closest gas station was over 15 miles away still. Heading west on Highway 64 toward Bloomer, I get to the top of a hill where Highway 53 intersects Highway 64 and I can see a gas station just down the hill. After a few pops and spurts going down the hill, the engine dies & we silently coast up to the pump, the tank 100% empty. Some lunch, a little run for Annie a few phone calls and we are on our way to Ellsworth. Only 5 Rustic Roads remain and I would have completed my goal. I planned to ride them on Saturday before the rain predicted for my ride home Sunday. Ellsworth is only 30 minutes away, so off we go……...until those loud noises and we don’t go – no mo’.
Good luck is not ever having bad things happen to you & machinery breaks. I define good luck as anything less than the worst case scenario. No one ever wants to break down and it’s hard to see a mechanical failure as anything but a negative. But if the bike was going to break down, it did so just 5 miles from a safe destination, on the side of a busy road in a place where we could call for help. The final drive did NOT lock up when it failed, as they sometimes do, which would have put me into a skid. Instead, it free-wheeled and allowed me to coast to the side where Annie & I could safely wait for a tow truck. If it had died just an hour before, it would have meant abandoning the bike and all my gear and Annie & I walking maybe 5 miles to a road where we could possibly get a ride to a place where there was cell service. Or if had broken down on one of those twisty, hilly roads – I would have had great difficulty controlling the bike with no ability to shift gears and may had to put it in a ditch to prevent a worse crash. It could have happened at night. The rain in the weather forecast never came. In other words – it could have been much, MUCH worse. So between the time & place and the way it broke and the friends that came to my aid plus some nicer weather than predicted – I see the break down as having been very blessed and fortuitous. My guardian angel was hard at work and my Ural, which I call “Trece Suerte” or “Lucky 13”, lived up to her name. She will ride again and once I replace the final drive – the Rustic Roads quest will continue.
- 7/5/19, 7/9/19
There is also shaft drive utilized on many motorcycles, similar to the method used in cars. A drive shaft runs from the transmission to a final drive that is connected to the rear wheel. Inside the final drive are a couple of gears and one of those gears, called the ring or crown gear, is attached to the wheel with bolts. If one or more of the bolts fail and break or shear off - it can do 1 of 2 things.......or both. The broken bolt can ricochet off the gears until they get lodged there. This jams the gears, locks up the final drive and the rear wheel - and puts the bike into a skid. Or the bolts can ricochet off the gears into the sides of the final drive case until they break thru. That's what happened to my final drive and is much better than going into a skid.
I still need to remove the final drive and see what the actual damage is and hopefully, no other damage to the engine or transmission has occurred. I have decided to replace the final drive with a brand new one and then send the old one in to Terry Crawford to have him rebuild it if the damage inside is more than I can do. There are some bearing that may have gotten damaged and the case will need to be either repaired by a skilled welder or replaced. More on that once I get it removed and open up the final drive.
As I called around for parts availability & prices, I thought I would inquire at my local Ural dealer to see what it would cost to have them do the work. Metro Motorcycle is located in Neenah, WI, only about 20 miles from me. Back in Sept. 2016, when I was first thinking of getting a Ural, I took my Venture in for new tires and wanted to ask about the Urals. The manager was too busy to talk to me, did not want to answer my questions and seemed disinterested in my business. He was even less interested in showing me any used Urals, which were way over-priced anyway. So I ended up buying my Ural from a private party in April of 2017. When one of the members on a Facebook Ural group a commented about the poor service at Metro, I concurred and said I "customer service is not their strong suit" and I would take my bike there "only as a last resort". Well, apparently the manager/owner saw this post and was still offended 2 year later, because when I asked about having them repair or replace my final drive, he refused. He declined to do any service work OR even get any parts for me - because I had "murdered them" on Facebook. Rather than seize the opportunity to prove that Metro Motorcycle DID provide great customer service, rather than apologize for the mediocre performance I received, he confirmed my original opinion - they suck at customer service. Every other dealer I called was polite, helpful, friendly, returned my calls and answered my questions. In the end, I ordered a new final drive from St. Croix HD-Ural and will replace it myself. One thing about having a machine with old technology - you can fix a lot of it without taking it into a service shop.
Thanks to the Internet - Metro Motorcycle in Neenah, WI will never see any money from me and I will do my best to tell everyone about the treatment & service they provided.
Next - the removal and opening of the Final Drive & the replacement. Then on to more Rustic Roads.
In what can only be described as a stroke of evil genius – the Russians decide that in order to replace the puck, and the driveshaft, you need to remove the swingarm. The swingarm is basically the back ½ of the bike frame. It’s what holds the rear wheel & shocks and connects it to the front ½ of the frame. Remove shocks, remove swingarm bolts, drop swingarm back, replace the puck – that’s what the manual said. But in my world – things seldom go that easy......................or as planned.
The shocks came off quickly enough, and the left side swingarm nut was easy to get to and with a hefty push, it came loose. This is gonna be a snap………..but wait - there's more. I discovered the next piece of brilliant Cossack craftsmanship and engineering – the nut for the right side swingarm bolt was nearly inaccessible. Shining a bright light into the hidden recess, I could see the nut. And I could also see that it had been slightly rounded by previous attempts to extract it. Access to the nut was only thru a narrow space between the swingarm crossbar and the driveshaft and only up from the bottom. I had to grind a 19 mm wrench down to get it to fit in the spot. Perhaps if I had another person who could turn the ratchet while I held the wrench on the nut, it may have relinquished it’s death grip on the bolt. After more than an hour of attempting to wrestle this lone nut off the swingarm bolt, applying several dose of WD-40 and Liquid Wrench and removing every piece of anything that might possibly give me a millimeter more space, I went to Plan B. The “flame wrench” or torch is not the ideal tool to use on any thing that contains rubber, like the inside of the swingarm does, because the heat can damaged the rubber. I used it sparingly, but it was also no path to success.
Rather that risk damaging the swingarm, I had to go to my final option – cut the damn thing off. This meant it had to be removed in 3 pieces. First, cut off the head, then use a punch to drive the bolt back so I could grab the nut with a pair of needle nose Vise-Grips, then cut off the bolt behind the nut and finally, use a drift punch to drive the bolt out from the inside. It wasn’t easy, but it worked and I now need to buy a new swingarm bolt and nut before I can finish the assembly and hook up the swingarm & shocks. I think I may have the new nut spot welded in place so if I ever have to pull the swingarm again, it will be a whole lot easier.
Once the swingarm was out of the
way, the old puck came off with a bit of prying and
the new one went on with some help from a little
silicon grease and a rubber mallet. Then I looked at
my driveshaft and I could see the hole where it
connects to the transmission output shaft had been
worn into an egg shape, so it needed to be replaced,
too. The new driveshaft popped into it’s holes in the
new donut and is now much more snug than the old
assembly was. Once I get the new bolts, then I can
reassemble the swingarm and shocks so I can install
the final drive. And, as long as it’s off anyway –
I’ll put on a new rear tire and tube, which should be
in next week, before mounting the rear wheel.