Something on the Side

Sure, they’re cute. Yes, they’re quaint. And yes again, they evoke an era when motoring was sport and modern commuting a tribulation of the future.

But when it comes to motorcycle sidecars, it is important to remember one thing:

“Everyone with a sidecar is a dingbat,” said Mike Harper-Smith, with not a hint of irony, standing alongside his dull-red 1953 Moto Guzzi sidecar. “There’s not one useful thing about sidecars.”

Many at Sunday’s 26th annual Griffith Park Sidecar Rally agreed with Harper-Smith. With the exception that they stay upright on icy roads better than two-wheelers, sidecars are the nightmares of motorcycle design, they said.

But then they went back to fawning over this British bike, or that 1960s Russian “rig.” There is just something about this awkward, gawky, rarest of motorcycle subspecies, they concurred.

And 300 specimens--from a tiny scooter with an ice chest for its sidecar to one that ferried about its wheelchair-bound builder--was enough to lure several thousand riders and would-be riders from throughout Southern California to the rally.

“Cops drive by and go, ‘Hey!,’ ” said organizer and Van Nuys sidecar designer Doug Bingham, flashing a thumbs-up. “Women go, ‘Ooooh!’ ”

And nearly everybody laughs out loud when they see a goggle-wearing pooch named Olivia riding in Raphael Bertolus’ sidecar.

Bertolus, like many, came to sidecars after a long love affair with motorcycles. The problem was, by the early 1980s, he owned seven two-wheelers and was getting a little bored. Then he bought his 1969 BMW with its 1971 Russian-built sidecar, and has been riding it ever since.

“Sidecars are inherently unstable because you have all this dead weight on one side of the bike,” Bertolus said, echoing the gripe that sidecar enthusiasts toss about with pride. “It takes a whole new mastery.”

Indeed, when a third wheel is attached and a dog, or human, is plopped into the sidecar--or “hack,” as it is sometimes called--a motorcycle no longer behaves like a motorcycle. Mostly, it behaves like a poorly engineered car, riders say.

Turning left means leaning to the left, and all but dragging the sidecar along for a bit. Making a right turn at high speed means leaning to the right in order to keep the hack from coming off the ground.

Unless, of course, the hack is on the other side of the bike, as is the case with some European models, which means, well, doing precisely the opposite.

“Sidecars are ridiculous,” reiterated Harper-Smith, who drove one across the Sahara 25 years ago. He filled his sidecar with spare parts and tools. His buddy filled his sidecar with cans of gas.

Evan Somers, a paraplegic, places his wheelchair inside his sidecar.

Somers and his friend, Raymond Nachtwey, who also uses a wheelchair, took a couple of Honda 750 motorcycles with automatic transmissions, built stainless-steel hacks with ramps for their chairs, and crisscrossed the country and Europe. A steering wheel in the sidecar of each motorcycle is attached to the handlebars of the riderless bike, and the two men accelerate and brake using custom levers.

“Cops love to pull us over just to say, ‘Damn, that’s a good idea!’ ” Somers said.

More importantly, though, people no longer feel so uncomfortable around him or pity his limited mobility. After all, he’s the one with the wind in his hair.

“This,” he said, patting his sidecar, “is an equalizer.”