Author: Lan, don’t growl
December 24, 2015 11:23
Tags: time capsule moto motorcycle jupiter
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Car “time capsules” always have, albeit small, some mileage, because at a minimum, the car had to get from the auto shop to the garage - and this is already several tens of kilometers. Another thing is motorcycles: due to their more compact size, in the Soviet years (and even now) they were transported and sold in the original packaging, which was a wooden box.
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See all photos in the gallery
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It was in such a factory box that this Izh Jupiter-3 was found: completely new and never driven on public roads. The motorcycle rolled off the assembly line of the Izhevsk Motor Plant back in 1976.
The motorcycle sat in this barn for 38 years.
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The stroller was stored upside down: so as not to take up much space
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At one time, the state allocated this device to one forester in the Cherkasy region - to tour forestry areas. However, for these purposes he already had an older Izh Jupiter-2 in good condition, so the man decided to save the new equipment for better times and locked it in a dry barn for many years. They didn’t even register him with the traffic police!
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The motorcycle remained in this barn until 2014, when the owner’s grandson finally decided to get Soviet equipment out of the rubble, which had already become a rarity in 38 years. And especially in this condition!
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The mileage on the speedometer is 3 kilometers, and it is recorded in the accompanying documentation that came with the motorcycle. He also drove these kilometers around the factory testing ground: a test run to identify defects and assembly defects.
Seat - double with a comfortable handle for the passenger
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The lighting technology of Jupiter-3 leaves much to be desired. The front headlight illuminates the road very poorly, and the low power of the generator does not allow installing other, stronger ones. The voltage in the electrical system is 6 Volts. During the production period, more than 100 thousand Izh Jupiter-3 motorcycles were produced annually in the USSR. By the way, the model was awarded the state quality mark. The original battery has been preserved, but it is unlikely to be charged
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Back in the summer, we took several photographs of the motorcycle next to the already well-known Toyota Mark II, which at one time was bricked up behind a wall. I already wrote about it: you can read it here.
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Hello dear readers!!! Something terrible happened, I became the owner of the Legendary Soviet Motorcycle IZH JUPITER 3!!! The bike ended up in my possession somehow suddenly and by accident. Good people gave it to me because I didn’t need it, but for some reason I didn’t refuse. Why I needed it and what to do with it, I didn’t really know, but curiosity took over and then one day, in late autumn, this wonderful unit materialized in my garage. The first thing I encountered was that he didn’t want to get into anything. I went to look for the cause and found out that there was no spark. Without hesitation, I went online and looked at a contactless ignition circuit based on a switch and a Hall sensor from VAZoprom. I rummaged around in my bins, found a couple of switches and a sensor, and bought a two-terminal ignition coil from a GAZelle. I found a suitable material, made a platform for the sensor and the “butterfly” modulator. There were doubts about the performance of this system on a 6-volt circuit, but there were encouraging reviews online and I made this whole speed thing work with the motorcycle. He started starting it - he resisted, filled the spark plugs, puffed into the carb and plug, but was in no hurry to start. Without hesitation, I stuck the AZ-1 emergency ignition stray parallel to the Hall sensor; it had been lying in the trunk of a car unnecessarily for many years. I replaced the original K65 carb, battered by life, with a practically new K68 lying on the far shelf of the garage. I changed the spark plugs, injected gasoline under the spark plugs, turned on the AZ and it came to life) It smoked terribly, didn’t hold idle and rattled with everything possible. I tried to drive... Well, it somehow went like hell, but it was somehow sluggish and very smoky... Well, that means I have to dig, I thought and decided to try to revive this carcass with little blood. As a result, over the winter, it was slowly done: The kick-starter shaft, the right crankshaft oil seal, the motor chain were replaced, the clutch was adjusted, the wiring was brought into perfect working order, the seat cover was updated, a couple of burnt out light bulbs, the enrichment lever and cable, pistons, fingers , rings, which I selected for the existing cylinders, since the fate and purpose of owning this device was not at all clear (by the way, only Voshodov pistons of the required size were found) The paintwork of the stroller hood and glove compartments was restored, and I had to strip everything down to the metal and struggle with pockets of corrosion. Also, the paint on the body of the stroller and motorcycle itself was refreshed, but without zealous fanaticism. The stroller was equipped with a new cover and glass (made in China). The shock absorbers, rear suspension and side trailer were rebuilt and filled with oil. The lighting equipment and the stroller brake drive have been restored. The engine didn’t slow down, although there was some play in the lower connecting rod head and in theory it was asking for it, but I decided to leave it until better times. The ignition in the hall behaved tolerably when the engine was warmed up, but it had to be started on a cold one in winter conditions with the help of the Emergency Ignition, otherwise you could get a callus on your right foot due to the constant repeated kicking)) Well, the steering wheel now has a switch button from the hall, at AZ. Winter driving around the garages in a stroller brightened up the winter somewhat and I even liked this thing, but I didn’t go out on the road, because the documents were not renewed for me and the mot was listed as its previous owner (Mot, by the way, was in the same family all his life and changed its owner only once, when it was re-registered in 2000 to the son-in-law of the first owner)
Time passed, spring came, the mapet began to get in the way in the garage and I decided to drive it to the dacha, which was 157 km away. With the re-registration, by the way, there was some hitch, because our glorious tax service, for some reason, suddenly decided to levy tax at the maximum rate. For some reason, in the Vehicle Registration Certificate and in the PTS there was a line: Engine power - “Information Ots.” For all previous years of ownership, the motorcycle was taxed at the rate of the corresponding engine power declared by the manufacturer of 25 hp. and lack of information in the PTS and in the certificate. no one was embarrassed about registration. But in view of innovations in tax legislation, for the ownership period of 2021, tax officials imposed a tax of almost 7,000 rubles on the owner of the motorcycle. The documents were given to the previous owner to eliminate the misunderstanding and the re-registration saga dragged on. The tax office has stubbornly stubbornly continued to stand its ground. How this will all end is still not clear. But somehow I had to move it to its permanent base. I asked them to bring me the documents for the weekend and make a DCT in my name without registering me in the PTS (just in case some valiant traffic police officer might want to stop me and check my documents) And then one Friday, at the end of April, at 3:30 p.m. Having loaded all sorts of belongings and tools onto the motorcycle, throwing a canister with 5 liters of gasoline in reserve into the stroller just in case, putting on my gear, I set out. It was warm, the sun was shining, people were rushing out of the city for dachas and picnics on the eve of the May Day holidays. I roll out of the garages, drive sluggishly, smoke a lot)) In order not to interfere with other road users, I try to drive like everyone else... Announcing the surroundings with the wild roar of the muffler, the strained jerking of the gear lever and unscrewing the trigger all the way, I join the traffic. My mother, how can this be, oo-oo-oooo, yes, what about you, where are you going, damn it, it turns out I don’t even have any brakes!!!! Oh, how do they drive it?!?! Why is he so slow? What is this fog in the mirror? Holy crap, am I making such a fuss?!?! Oh, how can you twist your leg so that you can stick the gear in without getting up?? Why is the steering wheel shaking so much when I was adjusting the stroller?!?! Damn, there are traffic jams right now, it will overheat!!! Ahhhh, right turn, where the hell are you trying to get under me, I won’t fit in!!!! Ufff, well, finally, I pulled onto a straight line without traffic lights or intersections, it’s like I’m on my way!!! Why is that traffic police car looming in my mirror? If we turned on the light, we wouldn’t have found it…. The traffic cops looked with interest at the crazy and insolent motorcyclist on a sidecar from the last century, rolling at 50 km/h. and detaining everyone and everything, grinning and raising his thumb up as a sign of approval, they turned onto one of the secondary roads. Ufff, it seems to have gone by...
Logically reasoning that it’s better to move slowly and systematically in the traffic than to stand at traffic lights every 300 meters for one and a half to two minutes, I turn towards the ring road. I drove out, cranked up the throttle, and it was finally straight and almost without holes. I accelerate to 70 km/h, it’s unusual after a single-pot low-end 4-stroke to listen to a straining 2-cylinder two-stroke. Who said Jupiters don't vibrate???? There is something awkward in the mirrors, some jumping shapes. I drive up to the plug, damn it, but everything is standing still, they drive periodically in 1st gear for about 30 meters and then stand still... So, in my opinion, I need a shoulder. Shaking, not smooth? To hell with it, the main thing is not to stand still, otherwise I’ll overheat, and again with idle, it’s trying to stall at Hall, I accelerate and switch to the emergency ignition, with it it seems to be stable at idle. As luck would have it, it's well into the twenties. I slowly drive around the entire line along the side of the road, turn into the secondary lane, and break out onto the M-8 towards Moscow.
That's it, then it's easier, a straight road and two lanes in each direction. I pass a traffic police post, the owner of the striped stick looks so mysteriously, but doesn’t stop me. As I drive, I switch back to Hall, it seems to be going. I accelerate to 75 km/h, then the strained roar of the engine begins, the traction stars begin. Well, okay, I’m a mopedist, why haven’t I ridden slow-moving sholets?)) I’ve driven 20 kilometers, I feel sick 60-65, it’s boring... Try it, sholet, how long will it go? I pretend to be deaf and, trying not to notice the strained roar of the engine and the blue smoke screen, I unscrew the gas handle. Oooh 85, look, almost 90 already!?!? Wow, what is this 100 km/h??? Wow, what is this, like that same 2-stroke detonation at the top?!?! After 105 km.h. the clutch began to slip and suddenly... Puff, puff, puff, puff, boo-boo-boo-boo-, whizzyyyyyh.... It’s like I’m going deaf, right? I switch to emergency ignition, it seems to work. I drop to the cruising speed of 65 km/h, drive on, and try to switch to Hall. It seems normal, but when you try to give it gas it starts to shut up again.
Well, probably the sensor “went away” due to vibrations and the ignition timing was off, don’t care, I’m driving slowly on the emergency ignition. I drove about 60 km, there was Rostov and an intersection ahead, the oncoming traffic blinked, they were probably at a traffic light. I decided to get up to examine the mapet and give it a rest. As soon as I got up, my relatives flew past in a car, they saw me and stopped. They are also going to the dacha. They asked why I was standing? I explained that everything was fine and I was just cooling down. I decided to go further not along the federal road, but along a short road, there is less traffic there, at least I won’t get in anyone’s way. I explain to my father where I’m going, just in case. I say that if I break down, I’ll call you and meet me. They are leaving. I decided to see what was wrong with Hall while I was cooling down. I unscrew the generator hatch and smell something burning. The sensor and modulator are in place, I unscrewed the spark plug, set TDC, checked the position of the modulator, hmm, everything is in place, nothing is wrong. I’m starting to suspect that the burning smell and the lack of signal from the Hall are somehow connected)) I start the car, reach the intersection, turn onto Belogostitsy and Ilyinskoye-Khovanskoye. There were no traffic cops at the intersection, well, okay, I’m on my way. I say hello to oncoming motorcyclists. I drove about 10 kilometers, attempts to switch to Hall lead to nothing. I remember that I didn’t turn on the light, I decided to turn on the headlights, and then I realized that when I turned it on, the engine began to die out... Soooo, it’s clear, the gene seems to have died... A traffic police car is coming towards me, but where the hell did you come from today? Either you see horseradish for half a year, or in herds))) We drove past. I understand that the further you go, the worse the engine pulls, it’s difficult to climb hills, I even had to switch to 3 a couple of times. I reach Khovansky, drive out onto the road towards Gary and stall. The weather is starting to gloomy, the sky is overcast, and it’s about to start dripping.
I put on a raincoat and climb into the inside of the moped) I try to start the engine - unsuccessfully. Ooppa, they've arrived. I hear by the sound that the AZ is buzzing, which means there is still a spark, why do you need it? I take the hose off the carb, oops, where is the gas? Yeah, of course, I switch to reserve, and it looks like it’s dripping... I close the tap, unscrew the sump, there’s some kind of slurry with garbage in it. I clean it, screw it back, open it - screw it)) Again I transfer it to reserve - it's leaking. Well, okay, I can go, I slobber on the hose back home, look into the tank, there is clearly at least 12-13 liters of gasoline, well, that means the intake pipe is clogged. Okay, this is a small thing, I'll clean it later. I try to start - it starts. I jump into the saddle and ride on. I passed Gary and turned towards Shchennikovo. It began to rain. I stall again, but screw it... I check the fuel supply, everything is fine, it works, which means the battery is dying. The generator indicator light is on low, it looks like it's worn out. I call my father, explain where I am and what’s wrong with me, describe to him in detail the route, how to go, and receive a “Okay” from him. I don’t care, I nod, the engine starts, I’m on my way. I drive three kilometers and stall. I sit, smoke for about five minutes, kick, get started, and drive away. So, in jerks, I reach Rozhny, turn onto the most “fun” section of the road, a forest lane. It was getting dark... It was dripping... Forest... The road is mince, knee-deep puddles, mud, fir trees close to the road and a bend on a bend. The engine starts up periodically, allows you to drive for 200-300 meters and stalls, after sitting for 10-15 minutes it starts up again and again allows you to drive for 200 meters. It got dark, the rain didn’t let up, I got stuck in the mud a couple of times, I didn’t expect the road to become so muddy, but the late flood did its job. There are no cars, people, too, Kraaasotaaaaa))) Something will not see and not hear my saviors, I thought and decided to call .. Hugs are coming, there is no answer. Well, I continue to move in jerks, here and there, where the road profile allows, I push the bike with my hands so as not to sit idle, it rolls hard. The batteries in the headlamp are low, the bots have a “swamp.” Then the call rings, I answer: “Hello, finally, where have you gone?” - “Son, I seem to have gotten lost, turned somewhere and got stuck in such clay that I can’t get out on my own, I have to look for someone who will pull me out...” - “Oh, that’s okay, okay, if I get to you, then I’ll help you dig out...” I understand that I’ll probably have to spend the night in the forest))) I nod, drive a hundred meters, stall, stop unsuccessfully right in a clay puddle, and the wheel of the stroller sank into the sand on the side of the road. I’m waiting for the battery to come to life, and at the same time I’m trying to push the bike out of the abysses, but it’s not really working. I jump on the kick, stick the first one, push as hard as I can, somehow get out. I drive about 50 meters and stall. I smoke again and continue to continue... Then a couple more approaches and I approach the descent, I’m coasting, I see a “full-legged” car coming from the forest, like a KIA Sorrento or something similar, it was dark and I didn’t really delve into it. I stopped, the car caught up with me and stopped... - “Hello! We must have pulled your father out of the quagmire now?” - " Hello! Yes, it looks like it. How far is it from him?” - “No, it’s nearby, around the bend, but he went in the opposite direction, to the village, it’s about a kilometer away, he said he’ll wait there.” - “Cool, thank you, at least they gave me hope, otherwise I was already thinking about spending the night here” - “Yes, it’s okay, don’t bother on the main road, you won’t be able to get through there, go through the forest, it’s drier there...” I thank them for the valuable information, because if If not they, then spending the night in the forest would have been really unavoidable, since they were the only ones on a four-wheel drive vehicle and the second of those that my father and I came across during this entire trip along the outskirts of the Ivanovo region. And if it weren’t for their warning, then, without light, I would absolutely have sunk into the very clay in which my dad was sitting before)) Somehow I get through to my father, the connection is glitchy, on the third attempt I managed to reach him so that he he returned to the puddle from which he was pulled out and waited for me to reach him. I jump on the kick, start up and make a jerk, I managed to get to the turn and the branch going into the forest, apparently this is just a detour of the very quagmire that good people warned me about. I went to look at the road with a flashlight. The main road is really plowed into meat by tractors; it is impossible to pass either with a low-wheel drive or a wheelchair. Yes, even with all-wheel drive, if only with good off-road ground clearance. I followed the turnoff to the left, damn it, but in the forest it diverges into several directions. I’m walking along the one that is as close to the right as possible, to the main road, I can’t see a damn thing, it’s crunching under my feet, but it seems passable. Fortunately, the detour was made through a hill and the worst part is at the end of the descent; you can get through it at full speed. I return to the sidecar, nod, jump into the saddle and make a dash to the middle of the hill, the bike stalls. I’m sitting smoking, enjoying the sound of the rain. I see some glimpses through the trees; my dad approached the quagmire. I jump on the kick and on the first one, twisting the gas to the limit, getting hit in the face by tree branches, I break out of the shit onto a more or less dense road, I see my dad…. Hurray, I got there))) I look at my dad’s Matiz and understand what kind of shit he was stuck in)) There are two embrasures from the windshield wipers on the forehead, the car is covered in solid clay up to the middle of the wheels, you can’t see the side windows, everything is done in clay, there are also lumps on the roof, in swamp salon. Then dad told how he drowned his shoes in the swamp, trying to get out of the car and picked them out of the clay with a stick, because he didn’t have enough strength with his hands, how they were sucked in))))) Grit got used to large puddles along the road, at night it’s hard to see, and It was still raining, I was thinking of rushing through without reconnaissance. So he slipped through... They tied the stroller to the Matiz and dragged themselves to the house with a tie. Damn, he's extreme, you can't see anything, the cable is short, and the stroller has practically no brakes. At least, my attempts to slow down in front of particularly large puddles were not crowned with success; the Matiz was dragging the stroller skidding, sideways and didn’t really notice the load) Somehow we got to Luchki, crossed the Nerl Bridge, and there the asphalt had already begun, although it was paved. From Luchki to the dacha it was 25 kilometers on asphalt, but the potholes, bad brakes of the IZh, rain and lack of lighting did not allow us to drive fast and therefore we drove mostly 25-30 km/h. We finally got there, but we only had to travel 143 km, along the route I was traveling)) For that, now I understand the motorcyclists of the 60s-70s who conquered the same roads, using this very equipment, and were glad that they could do it do. It’s not like you can carry a thousand and a half on the asphalt, with a cruiser under 120, with a gas station every 30 km, motels, navigators and the Internet on your phone)) In general, I liked this eccentric trip and maybe someday I’ll even take a short trip to the strollers along secondary paths.
The next morning I drove the stroller into the garage, kicked the stroller out of the way, removed the right crankcase cover, and dismantled the generator. The diagnosis was confirmed, the rotor was deformed and the generator windings melted. A week later, I brought a generator from Jog, RR and a switch from Alpha from the city, I had to rack my brains a little about how to install this generator into the crankcase of the IZH. A day of tinkering and now I have a generator with permanent magnets, ignition with an inductive sensor and independence from the battery + automatic transition to 12V, which is more common in today’s realities, and cheaper and more reliable ignition components. Only after implementing this whole thing did I finally understand how IZ Jupiter should really drive. It turns out that it can easily go 100+ and you can really feel the kick at the top. Now we need to replace the drive sprocket so as not to cause the engine to twist. Still, I decided not to give up the battery in order to eliminate the blinking of the light at low speeds, and I’ll probably leave the emergency ignition based on the VAZ switch as a backup system, just in case. I apologize for the missing photos, only the ones left were from my phone and they were taken by accident, for the sake of history at the very beginning of the grader road, while it was light. Thanks to everyone who completed this writing!!!
