The ZiD 200 Courier motorcycle is a very interesting model, just like the SOVA is considered a type of Voskhod. The motorcycle is not very heavy, its weight is one hundred and twenty-three kilograms. The unit was manufactured in ENDURO style. In principle, this model is something similar to “ENDURO” and “SUPERMOTARD”. This motorcycle has simple road tires, which range in size from three to eighteen inches. It falls just short of a full-fledged “MOTARD” in some nuances. From the factory, the motorcycle looks like a regular model, recommended for use on roads with different surfaces in normal climates.
Motorcycle ZID 200 - Soviet enduro
The rear suspension of the Zid 200 motorcycle differs to some extent from earlier motorcycles. The suspension at the front is a simple fork. The courier's motorcycle has front disc brakes and rear drum brakes.
This motorcycle has an engine with only one cylinder, it is two-stroke, air-cooled. It is recommended to use AI ninety-two on gasoline. The volume of work is not large, about one hundred and ninety-six centimeters per cube, the engine is good - fifteen horses. Excellent engine performance was achieved by using an unusual valve, with which you can adjust the amount of mixture so that it does not fall back into the carburetor. This also reduces gasoline consumption. Also, the quality of the motor was influenced by the special resonator that was used on the motorcycle.
The courier motorcycle is especially popular and stands out for its riding position, which is very comfortable. It is impossible not to notice its excellent handling on all types of roads. But with sudden movements of the motorcycle, the passenger may feel uncomfortable, as if the motorcycle begins to “float”. This happens due to the rigid frame of the courier’s motorcycle. But if only the driver is driving, then everything will be fine and the motorcycle can reach speeds of up to one hundred and five kilometers per hour. But since the engine of the motorcycle is not new, it fails because if the number of revolutions is insufficient, there may not be enough traction. But the motorcycle model is not large, so this shortcoming can be forgiven. So, another drawback, according to user reviews, is a loud crash at high speeds.
This post has been modified and re-edited in accordance with the rules of the resource and is again returning to the list of my long-distance trips on domestic motorcycles)
“How fucked up I am,” I thought, standing in the aisle of the reserved seat car of the Syktyvkar-Moscow train at the open window on a hot June evening. “I’m going God knows where, buying a motorcycle in God knows what condition, and then driving it on my own for almost two thousand kilometers... My life is boring or something, as always, I’m trying to find problems for myself.” These thoughts, mixed with high spirits from the anticipation of the beginning adventure, overwhelmed me all the way to the city of Kursk, where I looked for a new iron horse. However, it was only new to me. The motorcycle was produced in 1999, the brainchild of the glorious Degtyarev plant, ZiD-200 Courier. Why him? I wanted an inexpensive, lightweight, simple and most repairable device. At the same time, it had to feel tolerable off-road - an important feature that was so lacking on Voskhod. Only motorcycle products from the Middle Kingdom fell under these requirements, and then only with reservations. But, having seen enough of the ordeals of one of my friends with his Irbis TTR250, and having estimated the condition in which such motorcycles end up on the secondary market, I didn’t want to approach the Chinese for a cannon shot. The Japanese, of course, did not fit into my modest budget at all. Therefore, I had to turn my attention to the domestic motorcycle industry and a potential candidate for the free space in my garage was found. Here you have “18” wheels, and a rear suspension with a progression and a monoshock absorber, and a disc brake, and this miracle weighs only 123 kg, and 70 percent of the parts from Voskhod will fit, and there are even documents, and all this for 29,000 everwood. “Kick it up!” — I thought, and that same evening I bought train tickets to Kursk with a transfer in Moscow.
This handsome man was waiting for me in Kursk.
In Kursk, we quickly found a hostel for one night and packed a hefty tourist backpack (in addition to things, I took with me pieces of hardware suitable for the Courier, which could be useful in case of breakdowns). On the appointed day, I jumped into the carriage, and now I was already on the way to Moscow, with luggage from my backpack and not very rosy thoughts. Through the Moscow metro, run, from station to station, train to Kursk and here it is, my destination, where the 200th ZiD is already waiting for me.
It just rumbled and rivers flowed along the asphalt. I chose a good time to arrive.
Hanging around in the hostel was not part of my plans, and after calling the seller, I went to look at the motorcycle. The seller turned out to be an interesting conversationalist; we spent a good couple of hours talking with him on various topics. Along the way, I studied the documents and inspected the motorcycle for standard Voskhod problems. I pulled and shook all the nodes, trying to find gaps, meticulously examined every millimeter, but all in vain, the Courier turned out to be in excellent condition. There are only 11 thousand on the odometer. Perhaps the monoshock absorber turned out to be covered with oil, which indicated that it was faulty, but I considered this not significant and we shook hands. In addition, the seller warned me that the piston and rings on the motorcycle had been replaced, and the cylinder had also been slightly honed and had not yet been fully run-in. This, of course, added difficulties - we would have to crawl for the next 200 kilometers at a snail's pace, not exceeding average speed. However, there was no stopping me. Having taken the Courier for a final ride around the garages, I headed back to the hostel. No, not on a motorcycle, but on a banal minibus. It was decided to leave the motorcycle in the seller’s garage and complete the transaction early in the morning, before the start of the working day. I was afraid to leave a ZiD without license plates overnight (the motorcycle was deregistered and had paper transit plates) in the hostel courtyard without supervision.
Early in the morning, a good three hours before the meeting, I woke up, washed my face, had breakfast and went to explore the surroundings. Unfortunately, I didn't have much free time due to work. I needed to return to Syktyvkar as quickly as possible, otherwise I would have stayed longer in Kursk and studied it more thoroughly. The incessant thunderstorms of the previous day prevented me from walking around the city. We had to catch up.
Early in the morning the city is deserted and quiet.
A monument to the era against the backdrop of ruins. Symbolic.
The spire of one of the buildings of the former Bogoroditsky Monastery. Now the Kursk Electrical Equipment Plant.
Znamensky Cathedral of the Icon of the Mother of God. Yes, yes, again there are only temples and churches in Lent. Well, it looks epic, no matter how hard you take a photo)
Kursk Museum of Local Lore. But you definitely need to come back here.
I have never seen roses growing so easily in flower beds on the street. I am a child of the North, I can do a shield.
Already in the morning it was very hot and steaming. The day, to my displeasure, promised to be stormy. However, I can’t say that I was very upset. In Syktyvkar, the beginning of summer was not at all pampering, so I felt here like at a resort.
A must-have cat for every post. Was immediately ironed.
And this red-haired gentleman, with a sly face, meowed at me from the grass, but did not let me pet him, ducking somewhere under the fence.
The appointed time has already arrived. I, with the required amount of money and completed forms of the purchase and sale agreement, went for the coveted motorcycle. The money goes into the seller’s pocket, and I become the full owner of the Courier. The jubilation does not leave me as I slowly squeeze between the cars stuck in traffic jams on the narrow streets of the city. It’s getting hotter, the engine is heating up, and suddenly I notice that without load the speed has increased significantly. This is the first bell - there is an air leak somewhere. Most likely these are the crankshaft seals. Well, it doesn’t matter, I have to get home, and then we’ll change it there. In the last meters from the hostel, the engine begins to naturally “scream” and knock. I turn it off, roll it into the hostel courtyard and let it cool. On the highway, the motorcycle should not overheat; the speed there will still be higher, despite the break-in restrictions. While the engine cools down, I load up my things, pump up the tires, check the chain tension, oil level and give everything one last look. And now, the motorcycle is ready to ride. It's a little scary to drive without license plates. I expected increased attention from traffic police officers, however, looking ahead, I will say that during the entire trip I was never stopped. I take a circle around the city, visit the local history museum and, checking the navigator, drive towards the M-2 highway. At a gas station, on the outskirts of the city, I spend an hour crawling along the slopes of the roadsides and the surrounding area in search of a plastic bottle in order to strain oil into it and prepare the fuel mixture. The lack of garbage is, of course, pleasing, but not at this moment. It’s already about 5 pm and I clearly understand that I’ll get to Tula at most within the rest of the day. Finally, the motorcycle is fueled and I hit the road.
Day 1. Kursk-Tula.
Oh, how I was waiting for this! Far away! It may not be completely complete (I’m pressed for time), but nevertheless very pleasing. It’s hot outside, the sun is shining brightly, I’m in a T-shirt and shorts, speeding along the highway at a snail’s pace of 60 km/h, periodically pulling onto the side of the road to let cars behind me pass. The Courier turned out to be noticeably more powerful and dynamic than my old Voskhod. This simply tempted me to unscrew the throttle, but it’s better to drive quietly and get a break-in than to think later about what to do with a jammed engine. As I expected, the Courier behaves decently on the highway, does not overheat and does not increase speed. Plus, I adjusted the carburetor a little so that the “tired” crankshaft seals had less impact on engine performance.
Well, why not a tourenduro?) The rear tires, due to their “baldness,” felt good on the asphalt.
There are endless fields around
I didn’t want to stop, and there wasn’t much to photograph - fields, fields, fields... Somewhere closer to Orel I saw a line of cars standing on the side of the oncoming lane and people wandering through the fields. What are they doing there? Curiosity made me slow down. Bah! Yes, they eat peas there, they’re freeloaders after all) I didn’t give in to temptation and moved on. Now the Eagle is already behind. Part of the running-in is completed, I finally let the motorcycle accelerate a little to a crazy 70 km/h. Meanwhile, the sun sets behind the horizon, it begins to get dark and cold, and I am just approaching Tula. We need to look for a place to stay for the night. I pass Shchekino and begin to turn off the highway into what, in my opinion, are suitable exits. As usual, it’s not possible to find a place hidden from prying eyes the first time. At the first exit I run into some buildings. On the second, after driving through a field, I come across a notice saying that the forest ahead is the territory of the Yasnaya Polyana Nature Reserve. It was in vain to drive through the field; I won’t set up camp in the reserve. I had to return to the highway and continue the search. The concrete remains of an overpass caught my attention. ABOUT! This is what we need - a secluded place where it is unlikely that anyone will climb at night.
The same overpass
I turned to the side of the road, easily climbed the steep slope of the embankment (I was delighted; such a trick would definitely not have worked at Voskhod), went a little deeper into the forest and set up my hiking camp. It was already quite dark and fatigue was making itself felt, so I passed out as soon as I had time to zip up my sleeping bag.
The next morning brought pain and agony. My arms and neck were completely burned under the hot sun of the middle zone. Cursing, I hastily get ready, dress more tightly to hide the affected parts of my body from the sun, and drive on. Today my plans are to get to Kovrov, where I wanted to buy some spare parts. And it’s already 450 kilometers to cut to it. A quick snack at a roadside cafe (surprisingly, it’s already open at 6 am) and I continue to clock up the kilometers on my wheels.
Day 2. Tula-Kovrov and a little further.
This part of the trip goes surprisingly smoothly. Now I’ve already crossed the Oka River, it’s a stone’s throw to Serpukhov, and I need to decide which path to take next. Go into Moscow with its traffic and my limited speed? Fuck it. I will travel as far as possible, through Voskresensk and Orekhovo-Zuevo. But I’ll get to Kovrov faster, and leave tourist goals for later. Tea, this is not the last time I’ll ride. However, my calculation did not come true. First in Likino-Dulevo, and then in Orekhovo-Zuevo and on the exit to the M7 highway, I got stuck in severe traffic jams. Pushing in the heat on a motorcycle with an air-cooled engine between machines of death is like death. I had to make full use of my “anti-traffic” ability and break it in places by passing into oncoming traffic. And finally I broke out onto the expanse of the M7 federal highway. The next break-in stage was nearing its end and I added another 10 km/h to my cruiser. The ride became more fun, but not for long. Road work on the M7 created a gigantic, almost 10-kilometer traffic jam, which we managed to get around almost everywhere on the side of the road. Here I fully appreciated the travel of the motorcycle’s rear suspension, which swallowed up large potholes with a bang, albeit at a snail’s pace. Meanwhile, with an increase in cruising speed, fuel consumption also increased. At one of the gas stations I was surprised to look into the almost empty tank and estimate that the consumption was about 5 liters per 100 km. It eats a little sourly, almost like IZH-Planet 5.
Closer to the turn to Kovrov I met a whole column of 21 Volgas. It was a motor rally of fans of this model in honor of the 60th anniversary of the production of the GAZ-21 Volga car.
The road from the M7 highway to Kovrov was easy and familiar. I entered the city, called the spare parts seller, Oleg Galkin, and while I was waiting for him, I walked around a couple of blocks on foot. I was pretty tired of sitting all day, I needed to warm up. The deal was completed quickly, Oleg showed me a good parts store and treated me to fresh strawberries. It was time to move on. I decided to rush to Kotelnich along R-98, where I had already suffered at Voskhod. At the same time, I’ll test the suspension, I thought enthusiastically then. The courier is almost an enduro, what does it matter about these irregularities. But the harsh reality quickly made itself known. At the first broken section, the motorcycle sharply buckled and swerved to the side. I laid down a lot of bricks and barely had time to slow down. The leaking monoshock absorber, which did not make itself felt at all on smooth federal highways, completely refused to contribute to the contact of the rear wheel with the road on the dead, holey asphalt. The motorcycle immediately began to sway from side to side as soon as I exceeded 60 km/h.
However, the day was already coming to an end and it was necessary to settle down for the night. As usual, after poking around at various exits from the highway, I finally found a suitable place in the forest between Rodniki and Vichuga, and settled down for the night, postponing solving problems until the morning. In the morning I estimated the distance to Kotelnich and realized that returning and making a detour through Nizhny Novgorod was too much. “Don’t care, we’ll break through” - we’ll have to suffer again on the dead P-98. Life doesn't teach me anything.
Day 3. Vichuga-Kotelnich.
I stopped in Kineshma, bought provisions, and satisfied my morning hunger (of course, I was too lazy to buy food for breakfast in Kovrov). I crossed the Volga and with great pleasure drove the section from Kineshma to the P-98 highway. Oh how I love this road. Covered with excellent asphalt, it winds through forests that come close to the roadsides. Beauty, and that's all. And there is also the Memorial Natural Museum-Reserve of A. N. Ostrovsky “Schelykovo”. I even tried to look into it, but for some reason it didn’t work.
I really wanted to share the beauty of a short section of the route and I put together such an “action camera”...
... but I didn’t take vibrations into account, so there’s no point in showing the video.
We weren’t able to take pictures at the Ostrovsky Museum, so here’s a duck.
And then the same “Kostroma highway” began, about which there are legends among the people (at least in the north). Two years ago I already traveled here and described this road. So: nothing has changed. It was impossible to accelerate above 60 due to the danger of losing control. I had to trudge along like on the first day of the trip. So the devil pulled me to climb here... Around one of the turns I saw the culprits of all this disgrace. A team of road workers was patching the road surface. Until that moment, I thought that this only happened in jokes. Two hard workers in orange vests stood in the back of a slowly crawling, no less orange Kamaz, and not very accurately threw smoking asphalt with shovels into holes on the road. The remaining four or five people beat him down with shovels (!) and trampled him with boots (!!!). Repair in the “shit and smear” style. After what I saw, I drove and thought a lot. So, through pain and suffering, I got to Sharya, after which the road became noticeably better and I was finally able to “unscrew the trigger.”
If you look closely at the road markings, you can clearly see how “flat” the road is here.
Having passed Sharya, I decided to refuel. But at the gas station, as luck would have it, the terminal did not want to connect to the network in any way, and I spent the last of my cash in Kovrov on spare parts. I looked into the tank, shined the phone on it - it’s not clear at all, the narrow neck doesn’t allow me to really see how much is left in there, and the tank is unfamiliar to me, so you can’t immediately tell by eye. I estimated how much was left by consumption, it turned out to be about three liters. I decided to drive 50 km to the next gas station, which should be enough. After 10 km, the engine first began to malfunction, and then began to knock terribly and began to stall. This knock meant only one thing - seizure. You can't confuse it with anything. Literally a month before this trip, I had already caught a catch on Voskhod on the way to Ukhta from Syktyvkar. Then I had to hang out on the side of the road for an hour and a half, shooting sandpaper at passing cars and eliminating the consequences of aluminum enveloping the cylinder liner. So-so pleasure. You can imagine how everything broke inside me when this time I heard a knock and frantically grabbed the clutch to prevent the engine from smearing the piston across the cylinder. He stopped, exhaled, and looked into the tank. That's right, empty - I misjudged the balance. This means that the seizure occurred due to the lack of fuel and lubricant dissolved in it. Despite the fact that the crankshaft was turning, for the sake of peace of mind, I still decided to climb into the cylinder and see how things were going there. To get to the cylinder, I had to scatter half the motorcycle. Yeah... on the good old Voskhod there was no such crap. While I was tinkering with the motorcycle, driving away persistent mosquitoes, a guy on a well-worn, worn-out Japanese sportsbike stopped next to me (I still couldn’t remember what model it was). We got to talking, it turned out he was also from Syktyvkar, he bought this motorcycle in Kostroma and is driving it home. He told me that friends were coming to meet him in a car with a trailer and that they might pick up my motorcycle at the same time. Since I had already poked my nose into the dark depths of the cylinder and found nothing criminal there, I politely refused, thanking my fellow countryman for the offer. I was just about to ask him to bring me some gasoline when another motorcycle truck driver on a liter cruiser stopped near us. He had a life-saving one and a half liters of fuel with him. However, how responsive the people have gathered on this route is damn nice. Last time, when I was crowing on the side of the road, not a single biker flying past even asked what happened to me. While I was putting the motorcycle back together, we chatted a little more, I warmly thanked my savior and went back to the gas station with a non-working terminal, since it was closer to it. We managed to solve the problem with payment by standing by the window and holding the terminal at arm's length so that it could somehow catch the cellular network signal. From the outside it probably looked funny - a grimy biker in a helmet was standing and pointing a terminal at the sky, saying, “Come on, catch the net already, such a brute.” Finally, I was able to continue my journey and late in the evening I entered Kotelnich, where my friend Zhenya was waiting for me. He fed the tired “truck driver” and set him up for the night. The motorcycle was left at the dacha, because it was boring to leave it in the yard of the house. Tomorrow was the last day of my journey. The adventure limit had apparently been exhausted in the previous days, so the final push to Syktyvkar went without a hitch. However, there were still a lot of interesting events ahead for both me and the motorcycle... This is how a man bought a Courier for himself.
The local cat trampled all over Zhenya’s car and my motorcycle at the same time
Here he is, the parasite, bashfully (not really) covering himself from the camera with his paw.
There are only 80 kilometers left to Syktyvkar. I'm home.
Well, that’s how he is now. I got an additional set of evil tires, it was modified and brought to mind. Now he takes me on long trips and to various hard-to-reach places.
Characteristics of ZiD 200 Courier
- The length is no more than two thousand one hundred and fifty millimeters.
- The height cannot be more than one thousand two hundred and fifty millimeters.
- The width cannot be more than eight hundred and seventy millimeters.
- The maximum load is two hundred kilograms.
- The load on the trunk is maximum ten kilograms.
- The highest speed is 105 kilometers per hour.
- Manual clutch control.
The Zid 200 Courier motorcycle is easy to use, unpretentious and easy to repair.
It differs from its predecessors in improved appearance, improved characteristics, and improved performance. This sunrise model was modernized in nineteen seventy-six. Previously, the headlights were rectangular, now they are round, which looks quite attractive. Mufflers and taillights have also been improved and refined. New light signaling elements have been used. The gearbox has become better quality, the teeth have become more durable.
The old Zid 200 Courier motorcycle was manufactured at Degtyarev’s production facility, which is a large enterprise located in Russia in the city of Kovrov. The production of these motorcycles began in nineteen fifty-seven. Voskhod motorcycle models stand out for their simple design and reliability of use. Repairs are carried out economically and easily. Previously, there was no such assessment of technology as prestige, so it was important that the motorcycle would serve for a long time and be accessible to the population. No one complained about discomfort while driving, these were minor things. A motorcycle was considered acceptable if it shook on a smooth road.
There were no improvements to the sunrise for a long time; its appearance and technical data were quite satisfactory to users, and no one even thought that it was possible to improve the model and make it more convenient, more powerful and more interesting. But not everything is good, there were some complaints, some said that the motorcycle was unstable and very noisy. But such complaints were few.
