So, it's been like six weeks since I paid the young man I purchased a CBR from to use for track school, track days, and possibly some CCS races next year. The dude had this 2000 CBR: Stage one jet kit, steel braided brake lines, new clutch kit, DID race chain, some other misc odds and ends.
As it was, I had been frequenting this little moto shop that specialized in race bikes. The owner is a nationally ranked pro AMA racer, and, at least I thought, somewhat of an okay guy. So, anyway, I had been buying my Silkolene from them, some trick stuff for my Bus and so forth, and kind of struck up a friendly way with these guys. I had been tossing around the idea of scraping together funds for a track bike, and eventually started talking to them about it. One of the younger guys had the CBR that he was looking to sell. He had been asking $4600 for it, and crashed it out, so I bought it from him for $3000 with the understanding that it would be streetable and track ready. I wanted to buy a race bike, not a "project" bike.
So, anyway, I'm patient for like five weeks. The guy is telling me, "Yeah, I got the new sub frame on. I'm waiting on the parts for the shock. I need to get the clamps for it. I'm going to change the oil out for ya' and safety wire the drain plug, filter, blah, blah, blah." For five weeks I'm getting this. Finally, I get a little irked, and tell him I'm ready to pick it up. We make arrangements, I leave work a little early one day, my wife loads up the kids, and we go to get the bike. I get there and the owner tells me the guy "went home sick." The bikes in back. Torn apart. I flip out. Get a little bitchy. Call the guy the next day...the owner chewed him out, I chewed him out. So fast forward to yesterday. The bike is supposedly ready to go. I get to the shop. It's in pieces. The guys at the shop, according to the guy I bought the bike from, filched his hardware. He has no bolts for the fairings, I get a look at the fugger without the tank on, and notice the airbox isn't seated correctly, the upper cowl stay is fugged, I find out through the grapevine the front rotor was bent and he bent it back...it gets worse as it goes on. The full after market race exhaust I was supposed to get is on another guy's bike at the shop. The spare sprockets are gone. I'll be suprised if someone didn't take out the Dyno Jet needles and replace them with stock needles. I'm so pissed. I was a breath away from killing that little fugger last night. To make it worse, I find out from a friend, actually one of the racers who is a stand up guy, that the owner took out the guy's new battery and put his old one in the bike. So the owner last night is standing in the shop, watching me go balls out on this guy because the fairing bolts have disappeared and the bike won't start. The guy is, no chit, crying (he's a younger kid. like twenty. he was friggin high as a kite last night, too. Oxycontin I suspect, but that's a whole 'nother story) telling me he can't figure out why it won't start because he just put a new battery in it like three/four months ago. So the owner, who switched out the batteries, is watching me getting ready to kill this kid, and never says a fuggin word.
Jim, stay the fug away from the shop. It's bad, bad news. I am so glad you didn't buy Sven's bike from them. I would have felt SO bad because I referred you there.
Anyway, my friend picked the bike up from the shop tonight and trailered it to my house. I still have to actually track the little chit down and get the title from him, too. Anyway, I started tearing apart the damn bike tonight.
Pics!
<!--EDIT|Busa_05
Reason for Edit: None given...|1123735305 -->
As it was, I had been frequenting this little moto shop that specialized in race bikes. The owner is a nationally ranked pro AMA racer, and, at least I thought, somewhat of an okay guy. So, anyway, I had been buying my Silkolene from them, some trick stuff for my Bus and so forth, and kind of struck up a friendly way with these guys. I had been tossing around the idea of scraping together funds for a track bike, and eventually started talking to them about it. One of the younger guys had the CBR that he was looking to sell. He had been asking $4600 for it, and crashed it out, so I bought it from him for $3000 with the understanding that it would be streetable and track ready. I wanted to buy a race bike, not a "project" bike.
So, anyway, I'm patient for like five weeks. The guy is telling me, "Yeah, I got the new sub frame on. I'm waiting on the parts for the shock. I need to get the clamps for it. I'm going to change the oil out for ya' and safety wire the drain plug, filter, blah, blah, blah." For five weeks I'm getting this. Finally, I get a little irked, and tell him I'm ready to pick it up. We make arrangements, I leave work a little early one day, my wife loads up the kids, and we go to get the bike. I get there and the owner tells me the guy "went home sick." The bikes in back. Torn apart. I flip out. Get a little bitchy. Call the guy the next day...the owner chewed him out, I chewed him out. So fast forward to yesterday. The bike is supposedly ready to go. I get to the shop. It's in pieces. The guys at the shop, according to the guy I bought the bike from, filched his hardware. He has no bolts for the fairings, I get a look at the fugger without the tank on, and notice the airbox isn't seated correctly, the upper cowl stay is fugged, I find out through the grapevine the front rotor was bent and he bent it back...it gets worse as it goes on. The full after market race exhaust I was supposed to get is on another guy's bike at the shop. The spare sprockets are gone. I'll be suprised if someone didn't take out the Dyno Jet needles and replace them with stock needles. I'm so pissed. I was a breath away from killing that little fugger last night. To make it worse, I find out from a friend, actually one of the racers who is a stand up guy, that the owner took out the guy's new battery and put his old one in the bike. So the owner last night is standing in the shop, watching me go balls out on this guy because the fairing bolts have disappeared and the bike won't start. The guy is, no chit, crying (he's a younger kid. like twenty. he was friggin high as a kite last night, too. Oxycontin I suspect, but that's a whole 'nother story) telling me he can't figure out why it won't start because he just put a new battery in it like three/four months ago. So the owner, who switched out the batteries, is watching me getting ready to kill this kid, and never says a fuggin word.
Jim, stay the fug away from the shop. It's bad, bad news. I am so glad you didn't buy Sven's bike from them. I would have felt SO bad because I referred you there.
Anyway, my friend picked the bike up from the shop tonight and trailered it to my house. I still have to actually track the little chit down and get the title from him, too. Anyway, I started tearing apart the damn bike tonight.
Pics!
<!--EDIT|Busa_05
Reason for Edit: None given...|1123735305 -->
