You're Doing It Wrong: the pain of dealing with dealers who don't like what they do

My local dealer is one of the biggest 'power sports' dealers in the province and they're only ten minutes down the road from me, but they aren't who I think of when I think about motorcycles.  When I was all Kawasaki I found dealing with them challenging at best.  Now that I'm Triumph and Honda (two brands they don't represent) I'm glad I've had an excuse to experience more positive customer service elsewhere (Inglis Cycle and KW Honda have both been positive, engaging and enjoyable to work with).

Pack 'em in tight and no one can sit on 'em...

This local dealer is the only one I've ever used for servicing, but again and again I've found them dismissive and quite arrogant, as though my paying for service was a favour they were doing me.  I've been in the showroom of all three dealers.  The best I can hope for at my local is benign neglect.  The bikes are parked close together on purpose so you can't sit on them and the sales people in there are so focused on the sale that they don't even particularly seem to like bikes, let alone want to talk about them.  Even when I see other people sitting down to sign deals everyone looks like they're sitting in a bank getting a second mortgage rather than purchasing joy.

When I first went to Inglis Cycle the year I got the Tiger the owner of the place stopped and had a chat and then encouraged me to sit on the latest model of my bike.  Even though I wasn't there to purchase one that day (the only thing that seems to matter at the local dealer), he had time to provide a positive impression on his customers.  Inglis isn't some big, fancy, new bike-mall, but the people there seem to genuinely enjoy motorbikes and take the time to treat you like a fellow enthusiast rather than a wallet with legs.  I hadn't intended on buying anything but that positivity prompted me to buy a t-shirt with the Inglis logo on it; something I couldn't imagine doing from my local.  Since then I've bought thousands of dollars of parts and gear from them.

It ain't fancy but they love their Hondas
and encourage you to sit on 'em.

When I went over to KW Honda the first time I didn't own a Honda and just popped in to see what they were about.  The senior salesman on the floor was amiable and chatty and encouraged me to throw a leg over a beautiful new VFR800.  We then had a good chat about the CBX 1970s six-cylinder they had on display.  I made a point of going back there for parts when I finally became a Honda owner and there too the parts guy was chatty, curious about what I was doing and came out to see the old Fireblade.

Last time I was at my local looking for Kawasaki parts, I put my Roof Helmet on the counter and the woman who was new there displayed curiosity about it, so I showed her how it works.  She was enthusiastic about both the style and functionality of my strange, French lid and it left her wondering out loud why they didn't carry such a thing.  The old guy next to her said they were no good and wouldn't sell - in front of the guy who owned it.  That kind of caustic culture must be what takes the shine off everyone there so quickly.

Being a bygones kinda guy I contacted them by email the other day as they have a nice looking C14 Concours and I'm casting about for just such a thing.  We're in the middle of the winter of COVID and it's -20s with six foot of snow outside, so I don't imagine they're very busy, but getting the salesman to have a conversation over email was like pulling teeth... again to the point of rudeness.  I understand that dealers have to mark things up to pay for the premises and I wasn't expecting to pay what private sellers are, so I (foolishly) assumed that starting with offers at over 90% of the value of the bike would prompt a haggle, but emailing this guy was like playing a joyless game of 'no' tennis against a brick wall.

When I asked if there was a possibility of a trade he said he'd consider it, so I made an offer and got a no.  Then a I made a better offer and got a no.  Perhaps I've been watching too much Henry Cole doing Shed And Buried, or perhaps this is a cultural thing (Canadians don't barter), but I'd think a customer offering close to the value of the bike as advertised would be worthy of a conversation and a counter bid rather than series of terse 'noes'.

I was going to reply to the last email and ask why this business would want to turn such an enjoyable thing as the possibility of getting a new motorcycle into such a dreary experience, but I think I'll just cut my losses and finally learn my lesson, bygones be damned.  This latest experience, in line with all my previous ones, will have me looking elsewhere for parts, service and bikes... which is a shame.  I'd love to support a local business and talk them up positively (I do this whenever I can), but these guys can sit in their mega-edifice in misery.  I'll take my enthusiasm for my hobby/sport and my purchasing power elsewhere.

Some awesome local motorcycling businesses in Southern Ontario (from first hand experience):

Mostly Ironheads (my real local motorcycle service provider): in Elora, Ontario - if you want passion and customer service (along with quick turnaround times on work done), this is where you go

Inglis Cycle in London, Ontario

Kitchener Waterloo Honda in Waterloo, Ontario

NCK Cycle Salvage in Woodstock, Ontario

Perth County Moto in Stratford, Ontario

Revco - located in Ontario but found online

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Mechanics

After another fraught week remote working in a pandemic working twice as hard to do half as much, I was at it again all Saturday morning before finally springing free for the afternoon, but I had a lot to do and I was already off-kilter from a two hour meeting.  I walked into my happy place (the garage) after once again spending too much time trying to work with people badly through screens (one of the joys of a pandemic is WAY too much screen-time) and went about reassembling the Tiger, which was causing anxiety by occasionally not holding an idle and stalling.  

The Tiger rebuild began poorly.  I couldn't find one of the two retaining bolts for the spark plug top I'd taken off the week before.  In the days between taking it apart and waiting for Amazon to get its finger out and deliver new spark plugs, the bike must have been jostled in my too-small garage and the bolts rolled off the head where I'd evidently left them.  I know better than that.  If I remove fasteners I usually put them in a container in groups or loosely reattach them to where they came from so they'll be there when I come back.

While that was going on I got Lloyd's message from Mostly Ironheads saying that I could bring the Fireblade in for a safety, so I cleaned up and got it over there for that.  He has some fantastic projects going on, I've got to see if he'll let me do another round of photos - that shop is half working garage, half motorcycle museum.  (He did let me do another round, they're here).

Back in the garage I was now frazzled with things going on in multiple places and the Tiger rebuild frozen by a lost bolt.  I found a replacement, but doing things half-assed means doing them for way longer than you need to.  It makes me feel like I'm my own make-work project.  I was angry at myself and swearing as I put it back together.  I took it out for a ride in the clearing afternoon weather (it had been threatening rain all morning), but the intermittent stall still happened, even after all the pain in the ass parts ordering waiting during a social distancing slow down.

I put the Tiger up on its stand and figured I'd take a run at it again the next day.  Then Lloyd called saying the 'Blade was all good except tires - so now I have to try and find some tires, in a pandemic (I did, Revco is fantastic).  I brought the Honda home got into a ridiculously complicated plan for suspending it so I could remove both wheels at once.  The end product looked more like a roof mounting for a sex swing when I finally gave up on it and locked up the garage for the night.

***

The next day I spent the morning brain storming ideas for a work project and then finally got to the garage mid-afternoon.  My mind-set was completely different this time.  Instead of being weighed down by worries from a meeting, I was buoyant from just having thought my way out of them.  In a good mood and with the importance of keeping my shit organized clearly at front of mind, I went about fabricating chocks for the front wheel of the Honda and attached them to Jeff's motorcycle stand.

They worked a treat and before I knew it the CBR was suspended and the wheels were off.  The brakes were pretty grotty, so taking it all apart, even if the pads and rotors do all meet MoT safety standards, wasn't a bad thing.  The music was playing, it was a cool, sunny afternoon and I was getting shit done.

As I disassembled the Fireblade, I was Sharpy marking parts, taking photos and batching fasteners together so I can find everything when I reassemble.  I've been mechanicking for too long not to do this, but a callous disregard for shop etiquette gave me the result I knew I deserved the day before, but not this time.  The jigs we create make the jobs we do possible, and vice versa.

What had taken me twice as long to do badly the day before, took me a fraction of the time to do better the next day.  Instead of spiralling into anger and frustration, I was in the zone.  Problems still occurred, of course.  This is mechanics where I'm dealing with immutable reality, I have to bend because reality won't, but rather than succumb to those problems I was agile and adaptive.  I can hear the sound of one hand clapping when I'm in the zone like that.  It feels effortless and completely engaging.

The Honda was sorted so quickly I turned to the Tiger and began the astonishingly fussy job of taking the fuel tank off (again).  What was tedious the day before became a matter of minutes the next day.  With the tank and air-box off (again), I looked over the idle control valve under the air-box and discovered one of the tubes going into the back of it was loose.  I cleaned up all the connecting and ensured they were tight and put some gasket compound on the rubber gasket to help it seal where it was squashed.

The whole thing went back together again equally quickly and the bike started and ran, so I shut it all down and cleaned up (some more good shop etiquette I'd been ignoring).

I'd gotten two days of work done in one, but it didn't feel like it.  Disappearing into the garage is one of my favourite things to do, but doing it when you're frazzled and fraught can mean you're bringing a lot of negative energy in with you.  That negativity can make you ignore best practices you'd otherwise follow and might result in simple jobs becoming much more frustrating than they need to be.

Just like when you're riding, you need to find your inner zen when wrenching.  Not only will it make you a better mechanic, but it'll also make the work itself a joy.


Followup:  

A couple of days later I was working through week six of the Science of Well Being course I've been taking and it went over the state of flow and how it induces a sense of happiness.  There is a lot of research into flow states, especially in terms of peak performance in sports, but any complex task, from painting to mechanics, will offer that moment when you're balancing your skills with your situation in a way that's so engaging you forget yourself.  That's actually what you're doing in a state of flow, you're so immersed in what you're doing that you don't have any mental acuity left to self realize.

Sony's mission statement:  what a place to work that would be!

If that doesn't clear it up for you, maybe the TEDtalk by the guy who invented the concept of flow will:

Motorcycle Destinations: Mostly Ironheads In Elora, ON.

There was a time when every motorcyclist was also an amateur mechanic.  Getting your hands dirty was the only way to keep early motorcycles running.  We're over a century into the evolution of the motorized bike now and, as in all places, digitization has taken over.  Modern mechanics are now called technicians and have to be as adept at communicating with the computers on a modern motorcycle as the old school types were at diagnosing a mechanical fault with their senses.  Both are complicated, but in quite different ways.  There are obvious advantages to modern bikes in terms of efficiency, ease of use and dependability, but motorcycling is inherently a compromise in convenience, and many of the iconoclasts who escape the clutches of automotive transport to ride in the wind question the replacement of human skill with automated assistance.

Back in the day the motorcyclist themselves performed many of the tasks that a modern day technician does, so what was left to the old school mechanic?  What you'd typically find in a pre-war motorcycle repair shop looked more akin to a machinist's bench than the antiseptic, electronically focused diagnostics bay of a modern day garage.  That ability to manufacturer your own parts and diagnose problems without computer support, using only your senses and your hands might seem simplistic and archaic, but it was nothing of the sort.  There is a secret art to working with pre-electronic, analogue motorcycles that trips up many modern technicians who, while adept in leveraging digital tools to diagnose digital machines and replace parts, struggle to diagnose and repair mechanical faults.

***

If you're into restoring older machinery, this vanishing skill set is hard to come by, but I'm fortunate to live near one of these rare, independent, locally owned shops.  Lloyd Gadd is the owner and operator of Mostly Ironheads in Elora, Ontario.  With decades of experience in mechanics, he approaches motorcycle repair old school.  His shop is part machinists, part mechanics and part historical ode to The Motor Company.  Lloyd focuses on older Harley Davidsons, but as the name of the shop implies, it's not an exclusive focus.  Lloyd is also a qualified mechanic who can do everything from MoT safeties to changing a tire.

I was in there most recently getting last winter's Fireblade project safetied, and in the process Lloyd's prompt service got me looking at a better way to do motorcycle tires that will save me a significant amount of money.  While I was over there I also did a round of photography to give you a sense of what goes on in this old school shop.

Multiple engine rebuilds of air cooled Harley twins were ongoing in this small but dense workspace.

Unlike like most modern shops that simply refuse to work on long term mechanical or machinist driven repairs in favour of high turnover/quick to repair parts replacement, Mostly Ironheads will actually machine parts and rebuild a motor from the ground up.

It's a whole other level of mechanical commitment when you are prepared to turn your own parts out.

Lloyd has a number of customer projects on the go, and also makes a point of collecting older and vintage parts.  If you're fan of Harley Davidson you should make a point of riding up to Elora and checking out what's on hand - in many cases you'll see parts that are so rare that you may never have seen them before, even if you're into classic hogs.

Lloyd told me the story of a 1950s Harley racing motor he'd come across.  Only one of the two heads is accurate, but he's on the lookout for a replacement - though seven decades old serviceable racing parts don't survive well, as you can imagine.  When he has this rare piece of motorcycling history back together it'll be one of the few remaining complete Panhead racing motors in existence.  You might think that's a one off, but not in this shop.  Even if you're not into HD, this place is an ode to moto-mechanical history and worth a stop.  Air cooled bikes have an aeronautical aesthetic to them that modern bikes often miss.

The machining needed to sort this head out is impressive.  It had worn down below spec so is now being built back up and reground to specifications.  When you can machine your own parts, you're as much an engineer as you are a mechanic.

 Being a restorer, Lloyd is always on the lookout for parts, and the shop is an ongoing work in progress, with parts coming in and getting sorted and stored until needed.  Previous customers, online and estate sales and various other connections like the Harley Owners Group mean Mostly Ironheads are able to draw in older parts, often found in boxes of 'stuff' that get dropped off.

Lloyd mentioned a customer who dropped off a box of stuff while clearing out space at home.  In the process of going through it they discovered an unopened complete carburetor assembly still in the original factory packaging from the mid-sixties!  There is a joy in bringing a piece of history like this back to life, and the joy is alive and well at Mostly Ironheads.  If you're in Southern Ontario, it's an easy ride up north of Guelph to the shop.

This is that racing motor - one of the heads is incorrect, but the rest is intact and very rare!

 These are the cam lobes for that racing head compared to a typical one.  Not only is the racing cam lobe lighter with hollowed shaft, but it's also heavier duty in terms of strength.  Here and here are good primers on cam profiles if you're curious.  Whereas the right side regular cam is designed for long term use and efficiency, the more radical racing came on the left is designed to stay open longer, rev high and produce more power, though it wouldn't idle well, get good mileage or run smoothly.  But when you're aiming for all out speed, you'll put up with that just so you can wind it up and go.  You're unlikely to see mechanical history like this anywhere else in Ontario.

In addition to the restoration work going on, you'll also find an eclectic mix of older, finished air cooled Harleys ranging from customized choppers to more standard rides.  If you're into older, air cooled machinery, this will really float your boat.

Lloyd's area of interest extends from post war bikes all the way up to the last of the air cooled, carburettor fed bikes.  If you're into graphic design, you'll see everything from post war art deco to sixties and seventies disco and eighties futurism in the logos and bike designs.

There are some core elements to Harleys (like v-twin engines), that evolve slowly, but design wise they're much more in tune with their times than you might have assumed.

Rubber Maths

I've looked into the savage world of motorcycle tires before.  Way back in 2016 I got fixated on customizing the rims and putting new rubber on the Kawasaki Concours, and got introduced to the expensive nature of buying half as many tires that wear out way faster.  That first time left me with a $500 bill for getting 2 Michelin Commander sport touring tires installed and left me wary of the expense.

More frustratingly, I ended up using the Counteract balance beads anyway because the caveman weights used on a traditional balance machine still left the wheels with a wobble, so that $500 bill ended up being even higher, though it did make me feel way better about using those beads - they work better than weights and a technician half paying attention to the balancing machine.

In 2017 the Tiger's tires were getting tired, so I was once again at Two Wheel trying to get in for service (they suggested a one month wait was likely that time - local car tire places really need to look into this market).  At that time they were pricing Michelin Anakees at about $420 for both, with another $100 for installation which was only the tires because if I wanted service within a week instead of a month I had to remove the tires and bring them in myself.  With taxes and incidental costs that crept in on the bill, those two tires ended up costing me almost seven hundred bucks, and I had to take the damned rims off and put them on myself!

Fast forward to 2020 and supply chains are in tatters (not that they were that good a couple of years ago).  After trying to contact Two Wheel and getting no response to multiple attempts, I started looking elsewhere.  No local tire companies do motorcycles - you're missing a market there everyone.  Motorcycle tires wear out quickly, get replaced often and cost more!  The only motorcycle focused company that could be bothered to raise a response was Revco, who were responsive and delivered the tires quickly and efficiently, even beating expectations I'd have had pre-pandemic.  If you need motorcycle tires in Canada, Revco can and do deliver!

Where am I at with costs this time around during a pandemic?  Counteract Balance Beads were just under thirty bucks, the two tires were $126 & $155, so the whole bill came out to $310.  I'm at $360 including taxes and delivery.  Lloyd at my local independent motorcycle shop, Mostly Ironheads, installed them for $100, so now I'm at $460 for this round of motorcycle rubber.  That's 35% cheaper than my last pre-pandemic tire buying experience.

Just out of curiosity I looked up the same Michelin Anakee tires I put on the Tiger three years ago that ended up costing me $500 just for the rubber.  They're starting to square off and have a fair number of kilometres on them, so an over-winter tire change is likely this year.  On Revco three years later they're $382 delivered with taxes, or 24% less expensive.  Even Lloyd's newly updated shop costs for installation at Mostly Ironheads are less than dealer costs in 2017, and are done in a day with the same amount of fuss (I still have to remove the wheels).  I'd be at $482 ready to roll when it cost me $700 three years before.

I know where I'm going and how I'm getting tires fitted from now on - and I'm even supporting my small, locally owned shop in the process.  The only thing preferable would be my own tire installation machine, but I can barely fit in the garage as it is, so that'd only come after a house move.  With the deficit in service around here, maybe I should just be doing motorcycle tires out of my garage anyway.

Bike History, Ancient Rubber & COVID-proof Supply Chains

Ontario gets you to buy a vehicle history when you transfer ownership.  The main reason is to make sure you're not buying something with an existing debt on it, but I like it for the history lesson; you get a good sense of a bike's life from that list of dates and owners.  I'm the third owner of the Tiger.  The first one owned it for most of its life.  The guy I bought it from owned it for a short time (I think it was his first bike) before passing it along to me.

The Fireblade's history also tells a tale.  In July of 1996 it was sold to a guy in West Hill, Ontario (part of Scarborough in the east end of Toronto).  He sold it to McBride Cycle in Toronto (Percy's name is still down as the owner on bikes they brought in then) less than a year later in May of 1997.   McBride Cycle moved it on to a guy in Mississauga two months later in July of 1997.   The previous owner to me bought it in April of 1998 and owned it up until his divorce when he gave it to his ex as part of their separation.  It then sat with her through the divorce until her new boyfriend dropped it off for me last September, 2019.  Timeline wise, the owners of this bike have lasted:

• 10 months
• 2 months (dealer)
• 10 months
• and 21 years, though it looks like it was unused for most of the last decade of those.

I'm the 5th owner of the bike, and if I hold on to it for more than ten months I'll be the second longest owner it has had.  This 23 year old Japanese super model only has twenty-five thousand kilometres on her and sat unused for long enough that the petcock that metres fuel out of the tank failed and flooded the engine, then it sat broken in a garage.


This Honda is a 'supersport' bike with 'hypersport' tires, meaning they're soft, grippy and don't last long.  I once heard a story of a guy who used to drive his supersport bike to twisty roads in his van, ride it hard for a couple of days, and then open up his van and change to new tires using the tire mounting equipment he kept mounted in there.  Heavy handed riders can burn through a set of these types of tires after a single track day.

Lloyd at Mostly Ironheads measured the depth and determined that the 'Blade needed new tires to meet safety requirements.  I've got the 'Blade raised up in the garage at the moment and had a good look at the tires today, and found these:

But the numbers didn't make sense to me because I've never had a bike with tires made before 2000.  Tires after the year 2000 have a four digit code printed on them showing the date of manufacture, so you know if they're getting stale (rubber goes off over time).  If you see a 3507 stamped on your tire after the DOT designation it means they were manufactured on the 35th week of 2007.  But the 'Blade's tires show a 038 on the rear and a 395 on the front.

Pre-2000 tires only had a 3 digit code on them.  The first two are the week and the last one is the year, but you get to guess the decade, which is why they updated it in 2000.  If I'm reading the Fireblade's tires right, the rear was made in the 3rd week of 1998 and the front was made in the 39th week of 1995.  The tire model is a Bridgestone Battlax BT56F, and they were kicking around in the 90s.  It appears the "Blade's tires are well over 20 years old.

Sorting out tires during a pandemic should have been a real headache, but it was another COVID19 supply line success story.  I fired out requests to Two Wheel Motorsports, my local dealer, but they couldn't be bothered to respond.  I also tried to reach out to all the local tire stores and not one had the tech to do motorcycle tires.  I tried other local bike shops, but once again, radio silence.  It's like some people just don't want to make money during this situation.  Perhaps getting handouts from the government is all they need.

The only reply I got was from John at REVCO.CA, an online tire company out near Ottawa.  He was straight up with me, saying that they can usually turn around an order in a matter of hours, but it might take up to a week right now.  What convinced me to spend nearly four hundred bucks with him was his responsiveness and openness, so I ordered the tires.  REVCO outdid themselves, delivering the tires within 48 hours.  Fortunately Lloyd at Mostly Ironheads can install tires, but not balance newer rims (he focuses on heavy metal from the 20th Century with spoked rims, not racing alloy rims).  It wasn't a worry though because Revco also had Counteract balancing beads, which I'm a bid fan of.  I removed the old fashioned balancing weights, installed the beads on the new tires that Lloyd installed on Saturday morning, and the 'Blade feels like it's walking on air, wearing her first new pair of shoes in over two decades.

Fireblade Petcock

I think I've finally gotten the fuel system on the scuppered Fireblade sorted.  The last problem (and probably what caused all the other carb and engine issues) was a leaking petcock.  I tried to take apart the existing one, but I should have listened to the Chilton manual and just replaced it in the first place.  The new one (40 bucks on Amazon) seems a quality thing.

The petcock in the tank was pretty mucky, and was leaking even when turned off.  If it was pouring gas into the carbs all the time, even when parked for long periods, it must have filled up the carb bowls and spilled over into the intake manifold and eventually found its way into the engine oil, which would explain the seven litres of what looked like muddy water that came out of the oil drain plug.

The new petcock looks like a more finished thing than what was on it.  Based on the questionable mechanics on the rest of the bike, I'm guessing this was just something that fit rather than the right spec part.  The one on the top is the new one and the bottom one was what was on the bike.  It seems odd that Honda wouldn't actually tell you what the petcock is doing by writing the position on the thing.  

The old one also was also lacking the fuel filter, and the new one with the filter on it wouldn't fit throught a tube stuck up in the tank hole.  I removed the old o-ring and managed to free up the tube with some WD40 and slide it out.  Like everything else I've found in the fuel system, it was a pretty mucky thing.  With those weird bits now out and the tank cleaned, that's the whole fuel system sorted, so hopefully it'll run like it should when I finally get the tank back on.

The goal now is to wait for a break in the weather (we've been in the double digital negative temperatures with a fair bit of snow), and see if I can put the tank back on and fire it all up.  It's supposed to be 6°C and raining on Monday, so that'll clear it up and maybe give me a chance to test the tank/petcock on the bike.

As it is, the new petcock is leak free on the tank (I just held it up and tipped it over a basin, but no fuel leaked), so that's a result!  The problems with this non-runner when I got it had me focusing on the fuel system to the exclusion of all else.  I'm hoping that after a carb rebuild and the various other fuel system nick nacks I've sorted, that's all that's needed, but you never know.

With any luck I'll actually get to ride the thing up and down the driveway later this week and find out what else it might need.  If it's sorted, I can focus on winter maintenance on the Tiger and do the LED turn signals I've got for both bikes next.  Come spring time I'll ride it over to my local motorbike shop, Mostly Ironheads, and have them do a safety on it and then get it sorted for the road.