Adventure in Paradise
Today I reestablished a connection to the real world. I am declaring that lockdown is simply not real. When I think of lockdown, I will forever think of a rainy downpour and zero visibility. That pretty much describes what it’s been like here this week. My handyman Brad has been hunkered down at home since the work I have for him is outdoors and it has been miserable. Brad has managed the disappointment of a slow week better than I seem to be doing. One of my big cases settled (that’s always a good thing, but its a thing that reduces the immediate workload), and I did want to see what happened next. But then again, I have two other cases now that are theoretically on the hoof, perfectly suited to my experience base. I’ve been working on linking the Coronavirus pandemic economic debacle to the financial services litigation play. A play that will likely keep experts like me very busy for a very long time. That feels productive, but it’s a long game play. In the meantime, this rainy week has ended with a clearing sky and an orange sunset over Catalina Island. That is symbolic at the end of a long week, but there’s something else.
I did a deal last week to help a friend by buying his motorcycle. It was a good deal but it was loaded with issues for me. To begin with, the motorcycle was on the other side of the country during a lockdown that, while not exactly a national lockdown, might have well have been since the state of origin and the state of delivery are both locked down. Motorcycle transport is hardly anyone’s definition of essential, as I have said, but that didn’t stop a Russian family from keeping it’s investment in a Mercedes Sprinter van producing revenue. Earlier in the week I covered the economics of transporting one motorcycle across the country. I had the cost equation on gas and tolls more or less correct, but I woefully underestimated the revenue. Today, when said Russians delivered the motorcycle in the pouring rain, right on time, they collected $800 in cash from me and I was told they had managed to fit no less than five motorcycles in the van for the trip. Actually, it was four in the van and one strapped to the ramp on the end of the van. That means that they pocketed something like a net $4,000 for their week’s efforts. I have little doubt that they will do likewise next week to head back with five different motorcycles. For what it’s worth, the Russians were completely efficient and the motorcycle arrived in perfect fettle.
I still have the dilemma of keeping the local BMW dealership on my side (always important) when they learn that I bought a bike outside their system while they are servicing (or trying to) a motorcycle that I am in process of claiming a California Lemon Law refund on. I have a strategy for that when the time comes, but for now I have a legal process to go through. I found an appropriate law firm to take on the case. They are very subtly called The Lemon Law Group. It always pays to work with specialists I find. They have a formula that seems to give them a functional business plan. They require no retainer and take no percentage of my outcome. The law says that they are to be paid by the manufacturer in the event of a settlement or a win in court. 98% of all cases they take on (they only take on cut and dried violations of the law) settle and they are not bound to take the client into the courtroom without some sort of monetary arrangement. They are careful to say quite clearly that there are three possible positive outcomes: a repurchase, a settlement (fix the bike and give some cash) or a replacement with a comparable new vehicle.
I, like most people, have a strong preference for a repurchase, not the less because I have already bought a replacement. If either of the other two come about, I will be looking to sell whatever I get back in return. But the Lemon Law people tell me the average time of a settlement is somewhere between 30-90 days under normal circumstances. Who knows what a global Coronavirus pandemic does to the motorcycle lemon law settlement business. Luckily, the timing doesn’t matter to me these days. To begin with, a dollar in a hard asset is a better investment[‘
{ than a financial asset to be sure. The $18,000 I paid for the new motorcycle could easily have been worth 20% or more less in this unhinged, free-falling market environment we find ourselves in. It is at times like these that people who draw on their savings find themselves less bothered in doing so than in boom times.
Mostly, the uncertainty of the settlement process means that I consider myself fortunate to have a replacement motorcycle to ride in the meantime. There are only so many things we can look forward to at this time that remind us of the passions of our lives. My main passion is motorcycling and getting a “new” motorcycle was just the boost I needed this week to remind me of better times to come again. I have already been hearing from all my friends that own the same model. They all (four of them) reached out today to tell me what I must do to set up the bike the right and best way. This one feels I need better auxiliary lights. That one feels I need a smaller windshield. The other one thinks I need to lose the aluminum panniers (except for long trips) and replace them with a simple soft top box. And of course, the friend who sold it to me thinks he has configured it in the perfect manner and can’t see why I would need to change a thing. Ah, the joys of motorcycling by committee. I just hope they don’t demand a Zoom conference call out of boredom to kibitz as I prepare the bike for my first ride.
I haven’t mentioned this, but the bike is called a BMW R1250 GS Adventure. It is a ubiquitous motorcycle model that is known the world over and is easily repairable in every corner of the civilized and not-so-civilized world. It is called an Adventure because it has a bigger tank for longer range and it is set up to be ridden both on and off the road with high ground clearance and rugged crash bars everywhere. It is much less sleek than the motorcycle I am relinquishing and much less luxurious in fittings, but it does everything else just fine and it is identical to the bikes I rent each year for our annual overseas tours (Turkey, Sicily, Greece and Croatia, of late). One never knows when one might be buying his last motorcycle. My friend who sold me this beauty didn’t know until he fractured his pelvis seven weeks ago. My friend who is 88 this year is about to sell his last bike. Who knows. What I do know is that if this is my last bike, its a wonderful bike and my life of motorcycling has been nothing if not a total adventure to me.
There will be life and passions after Coronavirus. There will be motorcycling and even group rides at some point. We may never shake hands again as a culture, but I suspect that a solitary yet group activity like riding a motorcycle will be around for many years to come. So there you have it. My next adventure arrived in the hands of some friendly Russians and my little hilltop paradise here in San Diego will be the launchpad for the adventures it holds for me in the years to come.