How Not to Buy a Used Motorcycle
(published Motorcycle Tour and Travel May '97)

	There are two types of motorcycle people: those who take chances with used
machines and those who bypass the agony and ecstasy of questionable purchases by
 making payments on a new unit.  I hang out with the former group.
	Recently, I had been looking for a dual sport single motorcycle to add to my
fleet.  We have a weekly used goods rag up here called "Uncle Henry's".  Over
the years I have exchanged tens of thousands of dollars worth of goods through
"Uncle's" deals.   I put an ad in the Motorcycles section: "Wanted-  250-500 cc
dual sport motorcycle, have limit of $1000 to spend.  Phone after 6 pm". 
	  Two weeks later I got The Call.    A 1991 Suzuki DR 350S, about an hour
and a half north of here.  With only 1500 miles on it!    
	We made a deal to meet  at  McDonald's parking lot in Waterville, ME.  Tony
volunteered to meet me there to save me the grief of running around dirt roads
in the back country to find his house. A pickup truck rolled in carrying a clean
 blue and white motorcycle.   It looked good to me, but I had to start it and
ride it around first.  It had some rope holding the clutch lever mounting plate
on, and a few scratches.  I  threw a plate on the back and was soon zipping down
the road.  I  was hooked.  I wanted it.  How about the title?  Tony had it with
him, no bank deal involved.  I handed him $950.  But the title didn't have
Tony's name on it.  He explained that he only rode it in off-road so he never
bothered to register the bike in the 4 months that he owned it.    Tony assured
me that after I wrote my name in the blank space on the back,  there would be no
problem.  I wanted the bike so bad I made myself believe him.
	I drove the bike home that afternoon with  my wife following me in our car,
just in case.   Visions of exploring old logging roads filled my head.  
	The next week I went to the motor vehicle registry to get it licensed.  My
heart dropped down to my skidplates when I learned that  both prior owners would
have to make out applications to title before I could legally make the transfer.
 It was a dark moment.     
	I  ran up the phone bill in the next week.  Tony was the kingpin.  I called
him and left messages which were never returned.    Out of desperation I
explained my dilemma to Tony's mother's boyfriend who told me that I wasn't the
only one to have problems with Tony.  First, Tony was never going to call me
back.  Second, Tony had no money to buy the bike in the first place so it was a
real  possibility that Tony sold me a stolen Suzuki.  Tony was eighteen now and
that if I wanted to get the police involved, then do it.  Ouch.
	Mr. Boyfriend gave me a name of a person that I could call who might know
something useful. After hammering through a wall of denial the guy on the other
end of the line told me that the motorcycle was not stolen, and that it once
belonged to a woman who stored it in her barn for a few years.  He even knew the
name of the woman's son  and passed that number to me.  Sonny remembered his
mother having the motorcycle and gave her number.   Miraculously friendly and
cooperative as all get out, Helen would be happy to help me, and would even make
the application if it could help me get the bike on the road.  
	I  headed couple of hours north up to her sprawling, run down place.  Helen
was seventy nine years old, but her mind was still sharp and she gave me the
long sought history lesson.  The Suzuki was first owned by a woman who rode it
for 400 miles before she sold it to Helen's granddaughter's boyfriend, who ran
it for a couple of months before he needed money badly. Helen gave him more than
he could get from a quick sale, and her investment stayed the barn until Tony
came along.  Tony's girlfriend's father  had received a check from a big
disability settlement.  She begged free $2000 to buy the DR 350 for her sweet
young Tony.  Helen made $500 on the deal.  Tony made $950.
	Things worked out in the end.  I had Helen make out the title application
right then and there.  Her vision was so poor that I had to point to where she
needed to fill in the form.  Then she then came up an idea to cut Tony out of
the loop.  Since there was no legal evidence that Tony owned the bike, Helen
made me out a bill of sale and signed the title over to me.  It came in the mail
last week.  I am now the fifth owner of a DR 350 with 1500 miles on the
odometer.  
	Several morals apply: don't do used motorcycle deals in McDonald's parking
lots,  check the title before you hand over the money, and calm down if a deal
sounds unbelievable.  
	I just bought a '85 VW Jetta turbodiesel with 250,000 miles on it.  Uncle
Henry's strikes again.  Turns out this one has a blown head gasket.  	So one
more last tip- pay a mechanic a few bucks to check the motorcycle over before
you decide to buy it.  At the very least do your own compression test.