ECBDRs: PRE-RAMBLE: MOTORCYCLES OF CHARLOTTE IS… DISAPPOINTING…

PRE-RAMBLE: MOTORCYCLES OF CHARLOTTE IS… DISAPPOINTING…
* A Couple of Weeks After the Last Post *

I’d like to now try to describe how things have developed (or devolved) with my dealership service center. Let me start by stating that Motorcycles of Charlotte has the shittiest service department I have ever dealt with. Terrible. I could write pages and pages on this -but here’s one example. They put it on the lift on a Friday. I called to check in and they said that they rode it and definitely could confirm the problem I described. I’d told them when I’d brought it in that I thought it was the fuel pump. I even had the parts department put a fuel pump aside for me. But the mechanic thought it might be the valves. I told them that the valves were in spec when I checked them 400 miles ago. They said they’d check again once the bike cooled down. I called Saturday and the rep said, “yeah we’re just waiting for the bike to cool down.” I was like - I’m pretty sure it’s cooled down since yesterday. They were closed Sun and Mon so I called again Tuesday. The guy said, “We just need to let the bike cool down so we can check the valves.” They said the same thing Wed. Obviously, each service reps just read whatever the last note on my file was. At that point, I lost my mind and embarked upon a brutal volley of mental hooks, jabs, and wild punches aimed at the service manager’s face through the phone. I pictured it as Mike Tyson v. Elmer Fudd with me as Mike Tyson. They still don’t know what’s up with it. They still haven’t even checked the valves. Here is an excerpt from our conversation. Ang: “You see why I’m frustrated. This is ridiculous and pitiful, is it not? Service Rep Eric: “Yes. It is.”

I did some more research and found that many dealers are finding problems with the 2021 model’s ECUs. They send them back, have them reprogramed, and that seems to fix many problems. I told the Service Manager to do that (and to um, check the valves). He said he’s working on it. Since then I’ve also started another bloody front of this war directly with Royal Enfield North America. I may not get what I want, but I’ll make everyone within my field of fire suffer greatly all the same. I will be the guy the service dudes talk about after work. My name will be known in the Wisconsin Royal Enfield Himalayan North America office. Of course none of this is true, but it’s my goal.

Whatever. These specifics aren’t important. What’s important is that time is passing and I’m not at all sure I’m going to have the bike back in time. I have no faith in Motorcycles of Charlotte. I need a contingency plan. Obviously, that contingency plan is a Honda CT125 named Little Ugly Homefry. What seemed like a plausible idea when it was MY idea now seems like a horrible idea if it’s now become a situation where I have no other option. Little Ugly isn’t ready. She’s not set up. What will I do for the luggage? The tires are still the tires from the TAT. I haven’t even fixed the fried USB ports. There are all sorts of other things on the list of Post TAT things to fix that I haven’t fixed. I’m supposed to leave soon. What the hell do I do?!

I need a just-in-case fire alarm I can pull if I need to pull it. The first step to solving anything these days seems to be to order a bunch of bullshit on the internet. So that’s what I did. New Shinko 244s? Check. Another Healtech Thunderbox? Check. Some USB ports? Check. What else? Luggage? I actually tried putting the Mosko gear on the CT125. That worked about as well as you’re imagining. I guess I can use what I used on the TAT. Even though it’s all riddled with holes like Blackburn Lancashire. I’ll patch them. All the mounts I’d installed on the REH? My new tire pressure sensors? I’ll have them shipped from the shitty Motorcycles of Charlotte. Oh my god! The seat?! What the mother fucking hell am I going to do about the seat?! I seriously don’t know if Ass can take it. I can picture Ass just hopping right off my body and walking away with a “Nope.” I ordered a BeadRider. It’s not going to help, but I have to do what I can do to try. Ass will never forgive me if I don’t. And I need to have Ass on my side. Or on my rear I suppose.

The boxes of crap came in. I rewired the bike. I put the tires on (never ceases to amaze me what a pain in the neck that is). The local shops want $100 per tire, and you have to bring the wheels in off the bike. To that I say, fuck you local shops.

Little Ugly Homefry is ready enough if the fire alarm gets pulled. I think. The great thing about a Honda is that you can pretty much store it in a sludge pond for years, pull it out, and it’s going to start up and take you where you want to go. What am I forgetting though?

The last I spoke to the service manager at the shitty Motorcycles of Charlotte, he said they hadn’t figured anything out and that they were in touch with a tech at Royal Enfield who hadn’t given them any good suggestions yet. He said they’d send the ECU in - but that if that’s what needs to happen that it’s unlikely I’d get the bike back in time. Fucking Royal Enfield. Fucking Motorcycles of Charlotte. Fucking hell!

NEWS ALERT: Royal Enfield Himalayan Dead