Sachs Madass is a unique scooter developed by a team of German designers and engineers. The literal translation of the name means "mad donkey" or "mad ass", leading to the popular nickname "Donkey".
125 cc model
The Sax Madass can be called a small motorcycle or a large moped due to its hybrid appearance. Depending on the configuration, this motorcycle can be equipped with a 125 or 50 cubic centimeter engine. However, other characteristics are almost the same.
Specifications
Madass 50 | Madass 125 | |
engine's type | single cylinder, 4 stroke | |
Working volume | 49.5 cc | 119.7 cc |
Number of valves | 2 | |
Fuel supply system | carburetor | |
Ignition | CDI | |
Oil cooling | No | |
Starter | electric starter/foot starter | |
Transmission | 1-N-2−3−4 | |
Clutch | 4 disc in oil bath | |
Front suspension | telescopic fork | |
Rear suspension | monoshock absorber | |
Traverses | aluminum, silver | |
Chain | 420 | 428 o-ring |
Fuel tank volume | 5 L | |
Steering wheel | steel, chrome | |
Muffler | aluminum | |
Brakes | disc, hydraulic | |
Wheels | alloy wheels R16 | |
Number of seats | 2 | |
Length Width Height | 1830/720/1035 mm | 1840/720/1010 mm |
Seat height | 869 mm | 835 mm |
Weight | 89.5 kg | 99.8 kg |
Maximum load capacity | 190 kg | 194.5 kg |
Maximum speed | 60 km/h | 90 km/h |
Price | 65000 ₽ | 90000 ₽ |
Alex Motors 1161 units of equipment sold. You can trust us!
Sachs Bikes
The company's history begins on April 5, 1886, when Carl Marschütz founded the Hercules-Werken bicycle factory. At the time of its founding, the company produced bicycles and consisted of eight employees. Within eight years, the number of its employees had grown to 170 people.
Since 1903, the company has also produced motorcycles with purchased engines of various cubic capacities. Since the late 30s, the company has been closely associated with the industrial concern Fichtel - Sachs.
The German company SACHS Fahrzeug und Motorentechnik GmbH (SFM GmbH) is one of the leading manufacturers of high-quality and stylish motorcycles and scooters. The modern production program includes motorbikes, electric bicycles, scooters, mopeds, road motorcycles and ATVs. Today, the production facilities of SACHS BIKES are located in Guangzhou (China), which has significantly reduced the cost of products. SACHS BIKES, as the oldest brand producing two-wheeled equipment in the world, has its own difference - all equipment produced by the company is designed for consumers of different ages.
Sachs' most famous product is the extravagant MadAss moped, which can be translated in different ways. (For example, “crazy ass” or “mad ass”).
What is Sachs MadAss?
This is a motorcycle developed by German engineers, with a unique minimalist design that combines the aggressive style of a streetfighter with the functions of a simple and classic enduro, while it is designed to carry a driver and a passenger. You can call it a small motorcycle or a large manual moped.
The innovative design of the MadAss motorcycle in high-tech style has already earned the recognition of designers and always attracts the attention of viewers. The MadAss design with a tank in a frame was borrowed from a distant relative from back in 1939, the model was called Presto Saxonette. 70 years later we get a new modern design, which, as then, causes delight.
The MadAss motorcycle is equipped with a four-stroke engine with a horizontal cylinder arrangement (analogous to the legendary Honda Cub), with an interlocked four-speed gearbox, reliable front and rear hydraulic disc brakes, two powerful lens headlights, rear suspension with a monoshock absorber, the most powerful front fork in its class and 3-wheel drive. beam alloy wheels. On the MadAss 125, with a bike weighing 100 (99.80) kg on a stock 120cc air-cooled engine, you can accelerate to 105 km/h, and on one 5.5-liter tank. You can travel up to 200 km.
Due to its size and the presence of a 50cc engine in the range, the MadAss is often mistaken for a moped, there is nothing wrong with that, but it is not entirely fair to call it that, the MadAss is a motorcycle in its purest form! With the cool MadAss design, exhaust sound and motorcycle-like ride feel, it's not hard to imagine that every ride on it will delight not only you, but also the passers-by around you.
Beginners on MadAss will get that feeling of confidence they miss on other bikes, while bikers with years of experience will live up to their expectations and have a lot of fun.
Where to buy and how much it costs
You can buy Madass 125 either in new or used condition. Russia is fully covered by the possibility of delivery by transport companies when contacting the official website. Sometimes a used scooter can be purchased on the auto ru portal. You can take out a loan for the purchase from any banking institution in Moscow and St. Petersburg. The cost of this modification averages 90 thousand rubles . Madass 50 will cost the buyer around 65 thousand .
Modification with 50 cc engine
On the territory of Ukraine, all transport companies (Novaya Poshta, In-Time and others) provide delivery. There is no official representative office, so there is no possibility of purchasing a new scooter, except for the option of transportation from the Russian Federation or Poland and other European countries. Used equipment can be found on message boards and specialized websites. Its price is about 800 dollars .
This post was not written by me, it is published by me at the request of Alexander from Kursk, his online nickname is Motoadmin, he does not have an account on BikePost. I sold him my Sachs Madass 125 motorcycle, about which he wrote this post.
A bad head gives no rest to your legs
The story of this journey began by accident, like all great accidents... I responded to the offer to come to the capital to sell a motorcycle with reluctance. The buyer did not guarantee 100% receipt of the loan, and it’s autumn. Nevertheless, having grabbed the last chance and received an advance payment, I fully equipped myself and flew to Moscow. A vyfer is a vyfer! A sports tourist after all. Stable speed, traction reserve, good wind protection. Dream! Literally having flown in one breath and two gas stations, I stopped on Rublevskoye Highway, with a friend. A motorcycle for 100 rubles found a temporary home at a BP gas station, represented by a local security guard (everyone has their own business). I, having looked through a bunch of Kamchatka photographs, fell asleep like a child, in anticipation of the morning. I woke up around 7 am and hobbled to the gas station. Vyfer obediently waited for me and, habitually snorting with his V4, began to warm up. Enjoying the morning, half-empty Moscow, I slid through the avenue, literally intuitively finding turns and junctions. Rublevka, third transport, Varshavka. We've arrived. While waiting for a buyer, I looked at the people around me. They were like Casper ghosts, passing me in a haze of cigarettes and slanting rain, completely oblivious to my gaze. Having spent about 5 hours processing the loan and transaction, I found myself the happy owner of an impressive amount of money, wandering around the streets of Moscow without any particular purpose. I didn’t want to go home by train, the overalls and helmet felt like an extra weight in my hand, and the patty of money was burning in my pocket. Yes! Truly a painful choice. But! Are we looking for easy ways? No. Meanwhile, memory was throwing up options that had previously been viewed on the Internet. ABOUT! And if you look at my old dream, SACH MADD ASS (mad stool)? Exactly. Call the owner. Brief negotiations about the state of technology, address and meeting place. And now I’m already standing at the station. Perovo metro station, looking at passers-by and waiting for someone who would be interested in a guy in motorcycle clothing with a helmet. The owner of the “macaque” (that’s how I nicknamed this creation of the German motorcycle industry in the future) quite quickly took me to the garage, where an inspection revealed the following: A heavily used, rather even worn out vehicle, with a poorly functioning carburetor, broken wings, non-working lights, without wind protection and in general - a yellow vehicle on wheels, looked at me a little with distrust and without the desire to go to Kursk under its own power. Doubts about the expediency of spending money and the desire to become the owner of such an exotic device fought in earnest within me. The decisive factor was the bargaining, during which the achieved price prevailed over reason and after 30 minutes, with hastily completed documents and a stack of tape wrapped in tape, I moved towards the house.
What was ahead of me? Three hours of daylight, unknown state of technology and an empty stomach. A good company to cover almost 600 km on a vehicle with a 125 cm3 engine with a power of 9 hp. So, I'm on the Moscow Ring Road. Today is October 12th. The weather is sunny, + 12 C. Direction of travel - City46.ru (Kursk) The Moscow bypass is not very happy with guests like me. High speeds and arrogant drivers are the secret of success. I did not fall into this risk group. As it turned out, my maximum speed was no more than 70 km/h, the handling was mediocre, and the buzzer was not so hot. Well, the dimensions of the SACH did not make it into a luxury tourer. Although, I confess. At those moments when a traffic jam formed on the Moscow Ring Road, I became the king of the road. With the ability to move to the left or right of the main stream, my libido and self-confidence literally grew with every meter I walked. Still would! 60 km/h was a fantastic advantage among standing four-wheelers. Motorcycle life of Kursk forward! And under these envious glances, I continued my mega-project with the macaque. Not without stopping, of course. The first of which took place at IKEA, where after eating hot coffee and a bun with sausage, we celebrated with a few drops of butter at the parking lot.
"Cool!" The current fork and engine are almost URAL. Estimating the mathematical intensity of oil leakage from the engine as the speed increases, I tried to understand whether there would be enough oil to reach Kursk? Or is it not enough? Driven by doubts, I turned in the direction of Domodedovo, repeating my scooter route three years ago.
What has changed? Probably almost nothing. Still the same road, almost the same me (a little worn out, of course) and the cold autumn sun, giving off the remaining warmth to the madmen on the macaques. Although, there are some changes: a motorcycle jacket, leather pants, combat boots, a helmet and winter gloves. This is, of course, a huge breakthrough with the previous data: a civilian jacket, thin summer tights, sneakers and mittens instead of gloves (collective farm and that’s all). Having leisurely reached the federal highway, the macaque and I stopped at the first gas station. The gas bill crippled my legs - as much as 62 rubles. (2 liters fit) Having estimated the distance and volume of the tank, the brain came up with a miracle figure = 2.4 l/100 km. Ha ha! Yes, I eat more buns and sweets than my new two-wheeled friend. At the same time, checking the pressure in the tires, it was discovered that there were no atmospheres inside, which were solemnly pumped up. And this was a decisive factor for the controllability process. This is the height of perfection! Handling is excellent, braking is predictable, speed has increased by 5 km/h. Now I was racing towards freedom, through gusts of whistling wind as much as 75 km/h. Man is the king of animals and matter!
Immediately my ego was challenged in the form of a donut-addled baller in a truck with a license plate of region 26. (hot guy) Slowly chewing the next kitten in a sandwich, he looked at me and longed to be torn apart in a competition of male spirit and speed. And he received my challenge! Straining the remaining potency and taking a victorious aerodynamic pose, I put my left hand forward, turning into a super-macaque and unscrewed the throttle to its maximum possible value. The race began... The macaque captain was rapidly gaining momentum, and the jet thrust from the muffler added confidence in victory. The speed increased inexorably. 65…..65…..65 km/h… seconds turned into minutes… 66……66…..67 km/h, the minutes were clearly dragging on….67……67… Enough! Stop tormenting and shaming truck drivers. A small but very proud yellow macaque, led by Adminom, lost the palm in this race. Let him go. Someday, on a mountain pass clogged with cars, the macaque will show his true colors and let those rude louts smell the exhaust. This is not our fight today. Potency must be reserved for worthwhile victories! The Moscow region, as always, in terms of markings and roads, is convenient for crazy people. We calmly drive to the right of the main stream, separated by a solid line. At least dance. This is what they used. Either swaying imposingly from side to side, then stopping right on the road. Yes. Riding in a child seat is not very comfortable for an adult man. True, our stops did not bring me absolute joy. Every time I saw drops of oil under the bike, I became more and more nervous. Nevertheless, the motor spun vigorously and hummed loudly, taking me further and further. Passing motorcyclists honked, probably realizing that on the entire Warsaw highway they would no longer meet such a miracle, looking for itself in search of another, happy life.
Leisurely. Slowly, the macaque and I reached the end of the Moscow concrete road. Second gas station. Bill for 90 rubles - 3 liters. Well, I’m on my way! The kerosene stove is burning! Since every kilometer took away precious minutes, we had to choose the shortest route. Sometimes even under the sign of a brick and a double solid line. Well, who needs me? This is for you, in sports 100 miles is not a detour. And for me, an extra turnaround is equal to wasting 10 minutes on maneuvers. The body, meanwhile, began to get used to the approaching evening cold. Whose immortal hands reached out to me from the other side of the setting sun. Yes, I felt like, degree by degree, my youth was returning to me. Senses and organs froze in cold bliss. The heart beat sluggishly, sometimes giving the command to the lungs to breathe. So let's go and go.
Probably, if I lay a route through the North Pole, then due to the constant cold, I will return from there not having matured at all. I will be all pristinely preserved, without wear and tear - a cool iceberg. It was in approximately this state that I arrived at the Mayak cafe near Tula and, sitting down at a table with pasta, began to think about a rescue plan.
Body condition: - feet are frozen - bells and carrots have turned into ice with balls from a children's construction set - the body is frozen - hands are frozen - fingers don't bend (it's good that the plate is flat, you can eat the pasta right away with your mouth) - the head is confusing thoughts, the picture sometimes turns black -white. Task: get home.
Having filled myself with warm pasta and tea, I noticed a Kursk Priora in the yard, with an empty and nice trailer in the back. Well, do I really have the audacity to come to an agreement and transgress in a warm salon? Nope. It is so simple. Which is even boring. But what about the spirit of adventure and all sorts of troubles? You can't miss this. Said - eaten. Let's move on. Priora goodbye. Having warmed up and wiped off my drool, I pulled the kick starter out of habit and, chattering, continued my rendezvous. I note that although the battery and starter button were present on the macaque, they showed no signs of life. A timid hope that this was due to a deep discharge simmered in my soul, but mentally I was preparing to replace the battery immediately upon arrival. Although without it, the macaque was nicely wound up with a crutch or a kick. However! The Tula bypass, in addition to gingerbread, was waiting for me with a new surprise. Plunging into the sinusoidal road running through small streams, my warm body, sitting so nicely on a chair in a cafe, refused to tune in to the icy cold of the autumn night, flavored with a portion of milky fog. Mountain after mountain, a small trembling that engulfed me completely, tried to overcome the fool of the road in me and return to the cafe, find the Kursk Priora there and, with tears in my eyes, tell its owner: “Uncle, take me with you. My faucet is frozen. I want to go home to my mother." Further in the text there are tears and a scarf with a picture of a kitten. In addition to these paranoid thoughts, there were also the following: “I’m going to the Kursk station, doing the sheathing, paying enormous amounts of money for transporting the moto by Russian Railways to Kursk, and I’m getting into the compartment car with a glass of good beer. And there I meet a charming neighbor in the person of my grandmother, who tells me all the way about her life, about the cats living in her dacha, about the pigeons pooping on her windowsill. About how grandpa drank vodka all his life and pinched his neighbor’s ass. About the fact that the son is in prison, and the daughter dropped out of college and left with some drunkard. Vegetable garden, shit, dogs. Granny's snoring. Help in finding Valocordin, sleeping pills and medicine against night gases. Railway romance! A life-long thrill.” After such fantasies, I felt better, the cold from the enemy became just a reptile that I had to fight, and I continued driving.
This. My. Choice.
It got dark. It got completely dark. The new feeling I got from motorcycle travel was the sense of time and distance. It has become much thinner. If earlier I couldn’t stop near an object or monument that was interesting to me (it’s impossible to stop quickly from 170 km/h, it’s easier to drive), but now I’ve literally looked at everything! Plavsk, Chern, some villages. All the fences and monuments were mine. Stop by everywhere, take a photo, sit, mark a place. Great idea for a trip. Slower only on foot.
And so, on foot and very slowly, I approached the goal. Much slower than I expected. And the news, as expected, comes exponentially and both at once: 1) Good. No oil drips! 2) Bad. No more oil dripping!
On this topic, a rhyme arose in my head: The oil stopped dripping. Maybe it’s tired? Or it ended. So I'm out of luck!
At the next stop, having found no traces of oil under the monkey, I was puzzled by measuring its level in the engine. The search led to a cafe, where, having found a napkin and a flashlight, I calmed my nervous system. Very poor quality, very little, but it is there. So let's move on. There is no point in pulling the monkey's headlights. But time dragged on. It lasted as long as an unwanted pregnancy. I understand that it should end a long time ago, but it still doesn’t. With these cheerful thoughts I reached the Eagle. And only thanks to the help of friends, I managed to get into a warm kitchen, to visit Ivanovna’s cutlet and Batkovich’s beer. A hospitable mattress and a warm blanket brought me back from the land of macaques to the blessed world of people and communications. Day one is over. Travel time is 8 hours. 400 km covered. Everything is fine.
Second day
“Morning paints the walls of the ancient Eagle with gentle light”
At 07:30 I could hardly lift my ass off the warm mattress. Having gathered my courage, I pulled on leather Cafe Racer pants, a thermal jacket, and a jacket. I threw in a couple of sandwiches (kindly prepared by the owners) and went outside. Cold water mist surrounded me on all sides.
You can wait and by 11 o'clock the sun will disperse this boredom to pieces. Or drive, constantly wiping the visor inside and out with a glove, hiding the steam from your breath somewhere in the liner and sawing, sawing, sawing. So I sawed. A couple of photos for memory, the denouement. Go.
And how beautifully a lensed xenon headlight shines in the fog! Thing! This is not Ilyich's light bulb. A snow-white stream, divided into parts by the lens, like a knife, penetrates the fog and creates a good visibility of the spot on the road. Only this advantage gradually disappeared, giving way to the sun's rays breaking through to the right, from the horizon. Only foggy hollows easily swallowed me whole, like a hedgehog. And they gave it away just as easily. It seemed to me that I was, as it were, dispersing these curtains with my very presence and looking back, I noticed the surprised glances of the swirling images that continued to form in the stream of exhaust gases. Yes. That's exactly how it was. The Coca-Cola factory floated calmly by. It was followed by a bridge, a bypass road and another, another, another. There was nowhere to rush. The day was just getting brighter and the early drivers did not pay attention to the small yellow macaque slowly moving through space. Perhaps we are all magicians in some way. It’s just that everyone creates this magic in their own way and in their own time. Today I am sleeping, but this does not mean that something wonderful is not happening somewhere and to someone. And when I find out, I will be surprised and say: “I can do the same, but I just don’t have time or don’t want to. Blah blah blah". This is probably the art of magic - “Turning dreams into reality, and Reality into fairy tales.”
Epithet.
From Orel to City46 it is only 184 km, not so much for a normal vehicle. And if you rev up the accelerator, you can be home by lunchtime. In theory. And practically the consequences of my own stupidity awaited me. This was expressed in a reluctance to refuel at the next station and an attempt to hold out until Fatezh, with his Gazprom and my discount card. Did not work out. Loss of thrust and missed flashes clearly indicated the last drops in the tank. I had to press the stop engine and roll with all the inertia. That was enough for 100 meters. As I rocked the motor from side to side, I only heard an echo in the tank. Going back is useless, going forward is impossible. I couldn’t answer the question of how long it would take to get to the saving pistol with gasoline. Rolling meant losing at least an hour. Among all the options, I chose one designed for great luck and good fortune. My assumption was based on the fact that there were a few kilometers left, and the remaining fuel in the tank should be enough to accelerate the macaque to 60 km/h and then coast. That's what I did. The stop-go system worked effectively. Two accelerations gave me part of the way. Before the third race, an unidentified village loomed on the horizon. Enough with the mannerisms, gas to the floor - let's risk all the money. Luck is a stubborn thing. And sometimes she smiles at us. Fatezh greeted me with waving Gazprom flags. Refill for 100 rubles. Now you can be naughty.
The rest of 40 km flew by literally in an instant. As always. The road home is faster, the kilometers are shorter, the chickens are fatter! Now you can open a service for economical delivery of people to Moscow and back. Memorable photo on the Arch and me at home.
There are 584 kilometers behind. Two days' journey. 300 rubles for gasoline. The memories, as always, are priceless.
There is a lot of work ahead to bring the macaque into divine form and new trips. Matroskin was right - in order to buy something unnecessary, you need to sell something unnecessary. Motoadmin. City46.ru 2013.
Will we love “octams”? We choose motorcycles up to 125 cm³
Subcategory of rights A1, which includes motorcycles with a displacement of up to 125 cm³ and a power of up to 11 kW (14.9 hp), is a resolved issue for Russia. So, we have reached the level of civilized countries, but should we be happy or sad about this? Previously, the “one hundred and twenty-five” niche was not particularly popular in our country and there was little technology. What awaits the market in 2012?
000_moto_0312_036
All motorcycles imported into Russia can be roughly divided into two categories: . However, this division is very arbitrary: even well-known models are “yellowish,” if not entirely made in China, Taiwan, or even Turkey, Indonesia and Vietnam. It is significant that famous brands usually have one or two “125” class models in their lineup. After all, this equipment is, as a rule, a training desk, which cannot be bypassed by law. And there will always be a demand for it, until the craving for motorcycling fades or the last drop of gasoline is burned. Only companies with image bikes (such as Harley, Victory or Ducati) do not condescend to unpretentious “sufferers”. But there are progress here too, an example of this is KTM (we’ll talk about it separately).
IT'S NOW CHEAPER
The “under 50” group (we are talking about thousands of rubles) is opened by two twins: Lifan LF125–5 and Patron Simpler 125, clones of the Honda CG125 model of 1976. Their appearance is archaic. A very common engine in China with a characteristic lower camshaft (OHV design) is installed in an open steel frame. This shaft has only one cam, which, through two pairs of rocker arms and a rod, controls two valves in the head. The engine turned out to be compact, lightweight, reliable, there are no problems with spare parts or repairs. And the devices themselves are extremely simple: drum brakes, primitive spring suspensions, passenger footrests are attached to a pendulum made of a thin round pipe, which does not pretend to be rigid. Fans of the style of the late 1970s, and indeed old hardware in general, will appreciate the shape of the tank, stylish markings, 18-inch spoked wheels, fenders and seat base made of natural steel. There is a lot of chrome, a strong trunk, a tachometer and an electric starter. On the training “figure”, the motorcycles are simply super: light as a bicycle, the angle of rotation allows you to pass the figures with a margin, and neutral is easily caught. Brakes on the training ground are not particularly needed, it is even valuable when they are weak, so as not to accidentally block the wheel and trip. But on the road you feel uncomfortable with these, especially in the city.
A little further from the border of primitivism is the Patron Aero 125F. It is equipped with the same “tsegesh” four-stroke “air vent”, but with glimpses of modern design. There are cast five-spoke wheels, more advanced suspensions and a sporty-looking muffler a la Akrapovich. The view is no worse than that of its Yamaha classmate (we’ll get to that later), but the price of the Aero is almost half as much.
Not far from this technology are the Minskis, of which there is a whole range on our market. Actually, the “125” cubic capacity has become the crowning glory for Belarusian cars since 1951, when they began producing a copy of the German DKW RT125. The descendant with a two-stroke engine is today called Minsk M125. The motorcycle does not have a separate lubrication system and an electric starter (there is no battery either), with a four-speed gearbox. Spoke 18-inch wheels - with drum brakes (there may be a disc at the front, but you need to look for such equipment), a durable closed-type frame is used, a sealed chain casing, suspension - with “hydraulics”. Minsk M125X with the self-explanatory name “Forester” is equipped with a durable three-sided trunk, headlight protection combined with a small trunk and an “upper” plastic wing.
But the Minsk C4 125 with a 4T engine is priced out of our group, but it is logical to consider it along with the others. After all, in fact, it eliminates all the shortcomings of simple Minsks: it has an electric starter, a front disc drive and a five-speed transmission. True, I had to sacrifice the chain casing. Although Minsk is cast on the cover of the unit, it is produced by the famous Chinese company Zongshen. This is not a clone of a Honda engine, but a Yamaha one, in which the camshaft is located in the head (ONS diagram). This classic-looking device is very good for both beginners and rural residents, many of whom still have Soviet two-stroke bikes from Minsk in service.