By Stix Douglas
We all should learn from our mistakes. I think I do most of the time, I believe that it makes us better, more successful in life. But in this case, I don’t believe it could be written off as just a mistake. I’m not leaving this story to just anyone but to those that know me.
It's been more than a decade since then, but I remember it like it was yesterday. It was just before daylight on a cool and damp Halloween day, the end of October. I had decided to ride to work like so many other mornings before. There was a dampness in the air that morning.
The subdivisions gravel road up to the highway had deep ruts that heavy rains had washed out. It made everyone wanting to escape the washboard and it's ruts by having to drive onto a mud packed shoulder that led up to the state highway. The mornings dew had greased the bare ground and I drove over it.
Within a few memorable seconds was all it took. The bikes rear wheel spun out from under me. Ending in a 180* degree spill the result left the bike on its side with both wheels completely off the ground. The motorcycle laying headfirst into the ditch.
It was exhausting, by the time I got the bike upright. Everything seemed okay. I hadn’t been going very fast. There was mud smeared and a few rock scratches on the chrome saddle bag rails, but I would have to have the damage looked at later. I went on and headed on to work. Not giving it a second thought. It would need an estimate to have what was damaged fixed.
Later that same day, when getting ready to leave from work, the rear drive belt snapped. I hadn't even left the parking lot. It meant that I would have to call the dealership and have them come pick the bike up and find another way home.
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| Shortly after I bought the O1 in May 2002 |
It would be a while before I would know anything about the estimate or the damages. The dealership was closed for the next two days. before I would find out anything.
When I did finally call to check I was in for one hell of a surprise. Having had several of those kinds of mishaps in both dealing with insurance and accidents in general, I thought it would just be minimal. The dealerships’ service manager told me to brace myself; the damages came to over $11,400.00. I was stunned in disbelief.
How is that possible? I still owed more than that on the motorcycle so it would not be totaled but why so much?
Somehow way back in one of my countless travels I had bent the bike’s frame. I had what I would call " stump jumped " a curb or either came off of or hit one perhaps while pulling into gas station or other street edging. A small U-shaped section of the frame under the transmission between the two frame’s tubes had been damaged. Instead of the usual inch of distance between the transmission and it, there was now only approximately a 1/2 inch. Not really that large an amount of damage, but still damage.
What the Dealership estimate included in how they were going to fix it was they wanted to replace the entire frame, pulling off the engine and good parts and replacing those damaged onto the new Frame.
No wonder the amount was so high. I was outraged I didn't want that done. But I done some research and got an education. What I found out was something rather interesting. Others who may be in this same catch 22 that I was, would need to know.
If your insurance writes out the check to pay the Dealership estimate alone, they the dealership are by law to fix it exactly like they estimated it. However, if the insurance company has it written out to you first and cosigned by them then you can dictate how you want it fixed instead.
One of the mechanics I had spoken with explained and suggested he could fix the bent frame by pulling the transmission out, heating and beating the cross member of the frame back into place. Then spot paint it if necessary. It would be a minimum amount of labor for the maximum results and could save me thousands. Compared to replacing the entire frame and having all my parts changed over like it was on the estimate.
You can only imagine there was a lot on my mind. When you can't think clearly in my case I reached out and I began listening to those co-workers at my work that did NOT ride. This might have been my biggest blunder.
What they had said, and their suggestion was, “Why mess with your damaged bike? You said it yourself that you’ve gotten a lot of miles on it already. Why not trade it in now and get yourself one of those new 100th Anniversary models? You might hate yourself later if you don’t at least find out.”
Stepping out of my safe zone I decided to check out the possibilities. It would be a few days later the dealership was having a sell-a-thon. It had your party atmosphere, displays of the new Anniversary bikes, the newest colors and accessories. Live band playing, food and carnival like atmosphere. Balloons and etc, you get the picture.
The minutes turn to hours as I waited. What had started to out as festive in the early morning had now turned itself into an afternoon party. He finally returned with the answer that I would instantly misunderstand and then be confused by. “Your bike, that insurance check, and $9,000.00 dollars.”
That sounded like a WIN WIN. Hell, I think I still owed more than that left on the bike that I thought I would be getting out from underneath it, with the new Anniversary.
“Let’s get the paperwork started and get a credit check on you to get that out of the way.” After all it’s not every day you buy a new Harley Davidson. The salesmen said like a carpet bagger or lounge lizard, real slick like.
“What about my accessories?” I asked. I already had added a lot onto the bike previously. I was assured not only that I could transfer them onto the new bike but that they would even do it for me. Hearing this it reminded me of what my dad once said. When you hear something that’s too good to be true…..it usually is. I should have caught it then but by this time I was tiring.
I originally had ridden over in my truck since my O1 Harley was there. Still awaiting word and or the check from the Insurance company. They would need it before they would start ordering parts for it. I left to return home to get my helmet and riding gear and had to get a ride back to bring "Ann" the Anniversary home.
By the time I returned it was a couple hours later much of the festival was over with and so was the band and much of the crowd.
Next came all the signing of the paperwork.” If there’s anything you don’t understand we’ll explain it.” I had seen on one of the chalk boards that there was 0 interest on a new Anniversary as part of the deal to sweeten a purchase.
So, they proceeded to show me what would be my payment would be. But now it didn't make sense. Reality was taking hold.
What happened to the zero percent financing? I asked Oh that's if you pay off the entire bike within six months. Why is the balance so high? Cause you still owe on the other bike.
“What don’t you want the bike then?” they asked. Startled by their comments I kept signing in the confusion. Having already told my ride to go on home more than half an hour earlier didn’t help my judgment.
I went through putting on my riding gear while waiting for the bike to be brought around. Realizing by this time it was now after closing time for the dealership and although everyone was cheering me on, I knew I was keeping them there longer than they wanted. Without allowing the bike to fully warm up I took off into the dark and the cold.
As I began riding it for its very first time (its maiden voyage) I had taken the shortest route which was a very curvy two-lane asphalt back road home. It hadn't dawned on me yet, that this would also be the time that the bike would be speaking to me.
As I leaned into a curve along the way the bike slid on either wet pavement and or some loose sand on the blacktop. I regained the balance coming off the throttle. It had slid scaring me into paying even closer attention as to what I was doing.
It gave me the response and what I heard was: “I’ve heard about you…scratch Me and I’ll $&#@% you up. I dare you to scratch me!” As if to prove it.
That un-easiness was still with me after I got home. When I finally got undressed for bed my mind couldn’t seem to shut off with the thoughts of the day's events. There would be changes that would be taking place because of it.
It dawned on me that the length of the payments much higher and longer now than what I previously had would carry on long years after I would retire. That just wasn't right. That would not be happening.
As I tried to shut down my mind slowly drifted into a deep coma like sleep, I finally gave into my exhaustion. As I slept, I dreamt of rides I had had in the past. My O1 Harley had never failed me, not once. Even on holiday's regardless of the weather it was ready and able to escort me to any of the four corners of the US without complaint or any worry of trouble and never broke down. Not like other bikes I had prior to it.
In the mist of the dream, it turned into a nightmare. Suddenly without warning, I began to hear the sounds of whimpering. The sound became louder like that of crying. It was occurring to me this was what my O1 bike as it was yearning to say. WHAT ABOUT ME? What did I ever do to deserve this?” It got so loud and defining like when Thunder cracks and the Lighting strike hits a few feet from you. It had awoken the inner me. I couldn't sleep after that.
The bike I was trading off was more than just a machine. It had not only proven itself every time I had rode it more than I could count. But also had tamed pavement and gotten me through some severe storms where even some cars and trucks had pulled off the highway. It had traveled beyond the simple and quaint little poker run mentality’s and had bathed itself in the road grime of those storms right along with me.
What was I doing? Was I giving up on the only thing I ever had that hadn’t disappointed me? All for the fancy glitter and chrome shine of a “newer” and perhaps less satisfying bike? And at what cost?
As the darkness turned into sunrise. My blood shot eyes slowly got adjusted to the sun sparkling off the chrome and the metallic silver anniversary paint. I opened the service door. The glare off it would have hurt anyone’s eyes. Oh, it looked good. There was no denying that. I said it under my breath, "No matter what, you're going back Bitch"
Pulling into the dealerships service area I hadn’t realized then that I had just partaken in the most expensive 35-mile ride of my life. Fact was I hadn’t even enjoyed a single mile of it. There was no real way to explain myself but to accept what I had done and get on with correcting it.
As I took off my license plate, the guy at the dealership said: "You got issues" I just nodded and said I'd be back. I knew the crew in charge wouldn't be happy and would not be in for another day or two.
It's hard to say what anyone else might have done in my situation. Your expectations become higher when you’re reaching for the brass ring. Something’s got to happen….and it usually does.
I wasn't happy and I knew I wouldn't be with the longer length and increase in payments alone. Worrying that I would be devaluing the Anniversary with as much as I rode. I would have to be more careful where I parked it and had to protect its paint that would require even more care.
All I knew was, I wanted my 'O1 Eagle, fixed and I wanted it back, period. What was it going to cost me?
Nearly an hour and a half later as I waited in the lounge the verdict had come in. Without batting an eye “Here’s a thousand.” I remember saying. “There’s more in labor repair cost in my insurance estimate that I won’t be using.” I immediately proceeded to dictate what work I wanted done changing over adding and updating the necessary parts. Making and transforming my O1 Eagle into the finest long distance touring machine, with comforts most others could not even imagine.
I don’t miss “Ann” there are plenty like her out there. More than enough as I recall. Many would disagree with me, I’m sure. But it doesn’t matter. I’ve been there, done that. And I am still doing it. Kind of makes you think who is and who isn’t a has been.
We all make choices and changes aren’t necessarily for the better. I am much happier now. Sure, it was a costly lesson. But in reality, when I think about it, it wasn’t just the right choice, but that for $3,500.00 it was a bargain to keep what I had.
I am constantly asked how or why I got so many miles on my O1 Harley and many times, I tell them, " Its Cheaper to Keep Her" The other thing is I am proud to be a bit of a rebellious biker. I have also proclaimed, and I have said:
I have been the only person in the world to have paid, NOT to own a 100th Anniversary Harley Davidson. How I wish I could get this to Willie G.
For those of you that ride may you keep yours up on 2 wheels.
