Had a Car Like That Once Myself

Had a Car Like That Once Myself

Today I saw a ray of hope that life as we know it may still go on. I bought a BMW R1250GS Adventure motorcycle from a friend up in Dutchess County. As I have written, he had a bad accident and has to sell an almost new motorcycle that he can no longer ride (technically, his wife says he can no longer ride). Since he is getting around with a walker these days, he is in no position to argue, so he very quickly did a deal with me and I needed to arrange transportation of the bike to get it out of his barn and out here in California. While I consider motorcycling an essential activity, I doubt it would fit that criteria by Andrew Cuomo’s standards. I don’t bother wondering about President’s Trump’s standards, because he is mostly without standards and could be convinced of anything so long as I can make a case that its good for him. In any case, I managed to find a shipper and paid the down payment last Wednesday. I transferred the money to my friend and he Fed Exed me the signed-over title, so other than the bike, I have what I need to re-register the bike and consider it mine.

The truck driver was supposed to show up with a “box truck” on Saturday, but technically, the shipping manifest said Monday. No word on Saturday, but today apparently my friend got a call from a thick-accented Russian gentleman who managed enough English to relay the news that he would be there for the pick-up by 2:30pm. Sure enough, my friend sent me photos and a video of a Mercedes Sprinter van backed up to his barn, ready to onboard the motorcycle. The Russian man and his adolescent son went through all the right steps. They removed the aluminum hard panniers (it’s a high, but narrow van), used a wooden ramp and rode the bike up the ramp into the van where they used ratcheting nylon straps to secure the bike fore and aft to the floor of the van, just the way one is supposed to. The panniers were placed on one side of the van so as to leave room for the fold-down bed on the other side of the van.

This bike has every conceivable accessory including a BMW tank bag, in which my friend placed all the paperwork, keys, GPS system accessories and other items that came with the bike. He meticulously photographed each and every item placed in the tank bag and those that were placed in the panniers just to bear witness of what he had included for me in the sale price. It’s actually a better record than one gets when one buys a new bike, so I am very impressed. This self-contained bundle of joy in an otherwise bleak Spring should arrive to me later this week, if, as I was told, this is being driven out here in the very van into which it was loaded. Some of my friends think it will get trans-shipped in a larger truck because they cannot imagine that anyone can make money driving one bike cross-country. The math is 2800 miles divided by the Sprinter van mileage of 20 mpg or 140 gallons of fuel. The AAA says the average price of gas across the USA is now $1.929 (down significantly, thank you Mohammed Bin Salman). That means that it will cost $270 in gas and 40 hours to make the drive. My assumption is that the two-man team will drive straight through and sleep alternately in the van. On the assumption that they must eat anyway, there should be no incremental costs other than tolls, which apply only really in Indiana and Ohio and should not exceed $30. That makes me want to say that this father/son team will earn a net $400 for their 40 hour effort, but it will be in cash. If I add a $100 tip, that will take them to $12.50/hour.

Not exactly a get-rich-quick scheme, but if you have a van already and nowhere to go with it, and maybe have to go to California anyway for some reason, this sort of makes a little sense economically, but just barely. It all presumes a one-way haul with another return trip in the cards once out there.

When my friend watched them load up and drive away he took a video for me for posterity. I had told him to be sure to take a photo of the license plate in case I had to call in an all-points bulletin on my missing bike. This Russian duo may very well be rubbing their hands together over this $20+k beauty that they are in the process of monetizing, but I would like to think that’s not the case. I am a trusting sort of guy. I do have my moments of tension when I rent a villa for a two-week stay in some foreign country (last summer it was a manor house on the West Coast of Ireland and this summer it is supposed to be a “palace” just south of Krakow, Poland) and I arrive with my family and all the luggage and pray that I have not been hoodwinked. So far I have a perfect track record of getting my money’s worth. In fact, I would argue that I generally get a lot more than my money’s worth and create a large body of enjoyment for whole bands of friends and relatives at good value. I want to think that my trusting way will continue to be rewarded with good behavior by my counter-parties.

I have two friends (in addition to the guy selling me the bike) and one brother-in-law that have given me the “I, don’t know…….” program over the process of booking a common carrier with nothing but the internet as my protection and reference source. But the internet is so easy and everything else is so hard. A motorcycle is, after all, a toy. It is not some essential medical supply. There is no life-or-death involved in this delivery. The last bike I bought was a new BMW a little over a year ago at a registered BMW dealership and on Saturday I just past the 30-day California State Lemon Law waiting period for it being in the shop and not being able to be fixed. I think you can get taken no matter how careful you are and I doubt that an internet motorcycle shipper that shows up first on a Google search and bears the name National Automotive Shippers (NAS) and has a real contract form that looks legitimate and only takes $195 down (the rest in cash on delivery) is a scam. That’s simply too much trouble for that little money. The pick-up date was upheld. The van was meticulously maintained and new. The men doing the pick-up were both well-mannered and took care with the motorcycle and secured it diligently. What could go wrong?

My friend took a video from his porch of the final loading and continued it as the truck drove slowly from his barn/garage (with its Lamborghini and several Ferraris), past the main house complex, and down the mile or so of driveway to the main road off in the distance. It was a slow and excruciating video watching my new bike ride off ever so slowly into the sunset with the two Russians in a Sprinter van. There is an old joke about a Texan who drives up to a old farmhouse in Maine with his Cadillac with the steer horns on the grille. He asks the farmer how big his farm is and is told it is from that tree to that rock wall. He then brags that he has a ranch so big that he can drive his car all day and not get to the end of it. The Maine farmer considers this, looks at the car, spits out some tobacco juice and says, “Ayuh, had a car like that once myself.” For now I am just holding my breath for a few days in hopes of seeing a white Sprinter van, NYS license 590-752R, coming up over the horizon and up my hill. I will wear a full-coverage helmet and a pair of leather gloves to keep the COVID-19 bugaboos away, and it will be a victory of hope prevailing over good sense.