Categories: all aviation Building a Biplane bicycle gadgets misc motorcycle theater
Tue, 09 Jan 2007
Paying off a karmic debt (at least partially)
Way back in 1997, after I graduated from college with a bunch of friends, my friend C and I got an apartment in lower Queen Anne together. It just made sense, neither of us had much money, and we were long used to having (and being) roommates from college. We even both got jobs at the same company, F5 Labs.
I only lasted 4 months at F5 before being laid off, and he lasted about a year, hating every minute of it. But that's not the point of this story.
 Note: not this actual car; one like it |
The seller lived in a shi-shi part of town, and told us he was a lawyer. The car looked pretty good, with no obvious defects. It was definitely from 1970, the engine compartment was a study in simplicity. It had a trip permit rather than a conventional license, and the seller explained that he hadn't had a chance to get the license renewed, so he'd just gotten a trip permit.
We took the car out for a test drive. It was a blast. The exhaust note was incredible, it pulled hard, and it cornered very crisply (well, crisply for a 1970 MG, anyway). Very nice, and we were both thrilled with it. I had a vague twinge in the back of my head that I should tell C to get it inspected, just in case. I'd recently started on the habit of getting any used vehicle I bought inspected at a dealership or mechanic before buying it. It was a little bit more trouble, but seemed like a good insurance policy. In any case, I either forgot or elected not to pass on this bit of advice to C.
He bought the car, and brought it home. He'd tool around contentedly, the exhaust rumbling, and the wind in his hair. It was a really neat car.
Of course (you knew this was coming), when he took it in to get the license tabs renewed, he was told he needed an emissions check. He took it to the nearest inspection station, and got the bad news: it didn't pass. He had several choices: he could repair it up to some dollar limit (perhaps it was $400), or he could replace all the missing emissions equipment (mostly an air pump, as I recall). Either option ended up costing about the same, but it was money he couldn't afford to spend.
The last word I heard on that car was that, disgusted with it, he sold it to some car broker on Aurora for $300, a tenth of what he paid for it. I felt horrible, because, of course, it had occurred to me to say he should get an inspection done, but I'd never actually uttered the words. Who knows if an inspection would have found the problems it had, but a trained mechanic would certainly have a better chance of finding the issue than we would. In any case, I felt like it was at least partially my fault.
Our lease came up, and we parted ways in 1998, moving on to find different living situations. I quickly lost direct contact with C, although we kept in touch online for a while longer via IRC. In 2003, C got married, and that was pretty much the last I heard from him. Presumably the married life was engaging enough that it occupied all his time.
Over the next 4 years, I invited him to the various parties I threw, but never heard back. I was sad to see him dissappear out of my life, but we'd been good friends since 1993 or so, and so I wasn't too surprised to see us take different paths after a decade.
Fast forward to last week. I saw him pop up on IRC again, and mention, among other things, that he was getting divorced, and getting into vinyl records, and motorcycles. Ah-hah! thought I. A chance to renew my acquaintance!. I didn't really know how to pursue it, but by chance he responded to another email I'd sent to a large group, and we started talking bikes.
He mentioned that he was going to look at a temporary, "tide me over" bike (he's on the list to get a new Honda 919) last night, and I asked if I could come along. I love doing this kind of thing, plus I felt like I owed it to him after the MG debacle.
He sent me the link to the listing (that link will be dead in a week, sorry in advance), which includes the following gem:
* Has a rebuilt title because it was backed into and fell over - not stolen or wrecked. Minimal cosmetic damage. No engine damage. Rides extremely well.
I sent C a bunch of links on salvage titles, and how he should be very wary. (For what it's worth, a salvage title means that a vehicle has suffered damage bad enough that it would cost more to repair than the vehicle is worth. On motorcycles with fairings, this can happen very easily, and without impacting the bike's safety or handling, since the fairing plastics are stunningly expensive. On a motorcycle like the SV650, which has no fairings, you'd have to do bad things to it to achieve "salvage" status.)
The appointed hour arrived, and I headed over to the meeting spot, a supermarket parking lot north of the University district. I spotted C leaning against a railing wearing a riding jacket, with his helmet sitting nearby. I looped around and found a good parking spot, and we got to chatting. It was almost as if there had been no pause in our friendship, which was very nice. Since the divorce seemed like a potentially sensitive subject, we just didn't talk about it, which seemed to practically erase the missing years.
The seller's picture of the bike, from the Craigslist listing; obviously pre-tipover |
After a bit of a chat, C climbed aboard and rode off. I chatted with the seller, and ended up giving him advice on how to look at used bikes. This SV was his first bike, and he was more than happy to get pointers on how to evaluate the purchase of his next bike. I drew his attention to the obvious things I could think of.
C returned, and proclaimed that it was nice, but felt completely different from what he's used to -- he's currently riding a 20 year old Honda Rebel 250, which looks like a really tiny Harley. It's the other end of the motorcycle spectrum from the SV650. In any case, he was enthusiastic about it. The seller asked me if I wanted to go for a ride, and I agreed that I did.
Immediately, I noticed that the handlebar was bent, with my left hand lower than my right. I mentioned it, and both C and the seller agreed after looking at it. Neither had been aware of it, but it was obvious as soon as I sat down. That was the first real danger sign.
I rode off, and down Roosevelt. I took a number of turns at a very moderate speed, but the handlebars pressed hard into my hands, wanting strongly to fall into the turn. That's not normal, and it's definitely not good. Danger sense quivering!
The engine felt fine, actually quite good. I do love the SV650 engine, they came up with a real winner there. The clutch was a bit strange, but only from the standpoint that I wasn't used to it. No indications of trouble. The brakes were fine, in fact everything else about it seemed great. That front-end problem weighed heavily on my mind, though.
When I got back and stood back from the bike, I thought I could see a slight bend in the front forks, as if someone had rammed the bike hard into a wall or something. Neither C nor the seller could see it, and I started to wonder if I was imagining it. The seller assured us that the bike had never been in a front-end collision. I told C that I would be very wary of the bike.
Despite my warnings, he gave the seller a generous (and non-refundable) deposit to hold the bike until he could take it to be inspected. It felt strange to me, but I'm not C, and he's not me, so I kept my mouth shut. He and the seller stood talking for a bit longer, and as I was letting my eye rove over the bike, I suddenly saw it. "It was in a front-end collision," I said. I pointed at the front wheel, and they both crowded around. The front wheel had an obvious flat-spot where it had smacked whatever bent the forks. C confirmed that it was on the other side as well.
The seller packed up and left, having given a receipt to C for the deposit. C and I chatted some more until his taxi came to take him to his next appointment.
I went home with misgivings. C seemed really excited by the bike, despite my words of warning. However I felt like I'd already delivered the gloomy news, and he had to deal with it however he wanted to. Repeating that gloom wouldn't earn me any points, and wouldn't help him at all.
And so, I was very relieved when I opened my email program this morning to see a message from him, which basically said, "Now that I'm over the 'gotta have it' fever, I think I agree. Do you think I should walk away from this deal?" This was followed by several other messages full of other potential bikes from Craigslist. Phew! (I did reply with a "Yes, walk away" message, just in case the decision wasn't firmly made in his mind.)
The moral of the story? I guess that it's never too late to make up for past mistakes.
Posted at 12:18 permanent link category: /misc
Categories: all aviation Building a Biplane bicycle gadgets misc motorcycle theater