Being Customer Hostile

All Rights Reserved © 2007 Thomas W. Day

No sport works harder to be spectator-hostile than US observed trials. If you aren’t a big mile hiker, you might as well stay home since you have no hope of enjoying more than 20% of a typical trials event. If you aren’t an expert puzzle-master, forget about deciphering the “spectator map” typically handed out at these events. If understanding the rules to the sport you’re watching is important, forget about that, too. After a few minutes of watching any US observed trials, you’ll quickly come to the conclusion that there are no real rules to this sport.

After watching the dismal performance of US riders and the terrible spectator turnout at the absolutely amazing 2004 and 2005 World Championships in Duluth, I took a hiatus from the sport. We, clearly, suck at this as a nation. If there were 100 riders competing in a world event, our riders would be in the last dozen finishers, consistently. Usually, US riders don’t even have the balls to compete in world rounds, at all. This year, for example, Pat Smage was the only US pro rider in the Trials Training Center event at Sequatchie, Tennessee in the first US World Round event since 2008. Smage finished 12th and 11th of 13 riders. Pat scored well over 100 points in each day while the top 3 riders had less than that his point count, collectively. Points are a bad thing in trials. A perfect score is zero; think “zero errors.” When our guys try to take on the world-level competitors, it’s pretty obvious that trials isn’t even a third-tier motorsport in the US. I suspect if there is a Hoverround Mobility Scooter Olympics, it gets a better participant and spectator turnout than trials. The last time we didn’t suck at the international level was 1979, King Bernie might be our only trials accomplishment; ever.

Part of our poor showing in the sport is that, nationally, the sport is not well promoted; and never has been.

Sections are designed to be obscure and confusing to the uninitiated; i.e.. spectators. “If you don’t care enough to know the codes, you aren’t welcome” is the message broadcast loud and clear to every new visitor to an observed trials event. For example, identically numbered sections are side-by-side with the “understanding” that spectators should know that if the section start is roped off it is a Sunday section, although on Sunday the Saturday sections were still open and unmarked. I walked by more than a few frustrated spectators on the Saturday event who were patiently waiting for riders who wouldn’t come for another 24 hours. When I mentioned them to one of the checkers, he muttered something about “fuckin’ rubes” and went back to examining his navel until the first batch of riders arrived. When I walked my dog back to the stranded spectators and told them the real section was just a couple hundred yards down the trail, they decided it would be more productive to head back to the Aerostich rally and watch a few of the presentations in the air conditioned chalet. To be honest, I had some of the same inclinations after waiting for an hour and a half for the expert and pro riders to get to sections 4 & 5. I’ve been putting up with the rock and roll star character of observed trials for 40 years and the prim donna attitude toward spectators still gets to me. (Just like waiting until 9:15 for an 8:00 show to start will remind me of why I rarely spend much money to watch a rock show in my impatient old age.)

The worst-riders-first order of events is super rider-friendly, but makes for long, boring periods for spectators. Mixing experts and pros with the intermediates, support riders, and other classes would make waiting a section more rewarding and would force the pros and experts to be more creative in their route planning, since they wouldn't be able to make a committee decision on the test route for a section.

I fear this is all pretty academic judging from the current state of decline in US observed trials. There were a single handful of “pro” riders and not that many more expert riders in Duluth for the last two events of the 2013 NATC/AMA championship season. The people participating seemed as dedicated to the sport as ever, but their numbers are depressingly small. I heard factory guys complain of bare bones support for their riders and it’s pretty obvious that the incredibly costly commitment pro riders take on to ride the US series isn’t even close to a paying venture. Trials has become a motorsport of the bored rich, at the national level. That is never a good thing for a sport that pretends to want to become popular, just ask polo players about that, if you doubt my opinion.

Getting Customer-Serviced to Death

My Montana retirement villa. The guy who lives  here
looks like some kind of ZZ Top refugee, but he only weighs
about 110 pounds. I figure I can do a Willard Romney on him
and send him on his way with a nice picture of me living in
his old place and a couple of bucks in his jeans.

 

This week was full of the kind of frustration that makes people like me buy an arm-load of guns and a station-wagon full of ammunition and move into the Montana "dream cave." (see at right)

First, a friend decided he wanted to look at buying a new bike. So, he and I wandered into the local "we got everything" dealership and browsed the pickin's. He was interested in Honda's NS700X and Suzuki's V-Strom DL-650 ABS (which the dealer had mis-labeled as the DL-650A and the salesman had to wander the halls for 20 minutes to confirm was, in fact, ABS). Both bikes would go out the door at around $10k. After looking at the two, side-by-side, he seemed to be settling on the V-Strom. The salesman was such a zombie that I had to get away from the flow of babble and I left the building to stare at the weird-assed Victory contraptions parked in the front of the building. Forty minutes later, I returned to Zombieland and found that the guys had filled out application paperwork and were waiting for the shop guys to give some kind of appraisal on the trade-in bike. They had hauled the bike into the shop about 40 minutes earlier and we were running out of time. When my friend reminded the sales zombie that he'd said it would take about "30 minutes to do the appraisal," zombie-geezer replied, "I didn't say they'd drop everything and do it instantly." Meaning, "It will take 30 minutes to do the appraisal but that 30 minutes begins when we say it begins. Maybe next month?" So, we bagged up our stuff and went on with out day, leaving zombie-fool to mutter about all the paperwork he'd done for nothing.

My friend had left my phone number with the dealer, since he's in-transit to a new job in another state, and when zombie-sales-fool called Friday morning to ask when we'd be back to finish the appraisal, I said, "You're fucking kidding, right? The dude's buying a Honda in Wisconsin." Zombie-sales-geezer-fool was offended and wanted to "reason" with me, but I had stuff to do and hung up. My best guess is that when economic times are tough, the dealer mismanagers get rid of all of their smart sales people and hire semi-retired idiots who would otherwise be Wal-Mart greeters. That tactic might also apply to the shop guys who imagine that a trade-in inspection on a $10k sale can wait until all the donuts are consumed and the cans of Mountain Dew are drained.

This was, by the way, the polar opposite of the qualities of the shop my editor likes to hit up for magazine reviews. Those guys were absolutely customer-service oriented and would be my first choice for all things Honda, Yamaha, Triumph, and Kawasaki if they were 30 miles closer to where I live. As it is, if I ever win the lottery and decide I NEED a new motorcycle, that's where I'll be shopping. Parts, unfortunately, I'll still buy on-line because I hate dealing with dealers' parts children.

Move to later in the week.

I'm still wrestling with getting the Garmin software to work with my old 2610/2620 GPS units. When my office computer crashed last fall, I recovered most everything that mattered (except for the incredibly critical Quicken Home and Office backup data that turned out not to be backed up by Quicken's "backup" function). One of the few things that hasn't come back to life has been City Navigator v8. I can sort of get v7 going, but it only recognizes the existence of my GPS units and won't actually "install the unlock "(a crazy phrase if I've ever written one) and give me access to my maps. The device isn't useless, but it's not a lot more than a compass, altimeter, and a US Interstate locator as it is.

So far, the "recommendation" I get from the Garmin "technical support" guys is the routine I have already followed, which doesn't work. They, also, recommend I buy a newer GPS. I don't need a newer GPS. The roads I travel haven't changed much in 40 years and I can get by just sort of knowing where I am. The sun and the stars fill in the data bits the GPS unit can't complete. I know my 2610 is "old." So am I. It has also survived a drop from my bike at 70+mph and continued to function for 5 years afterwards. If Garmin can guarantee that one of their new units will be that tough, I'll buy one (used and for less than $50, just like the 2610 purchase in 2007). I think Garmin's tech support is still out of Kansas, almost US citizens, but their comprehension of problem-solving might as well be coming from ESL characters in India. Honestly, this experience has made me more open to the idea that Garmin might not be the supplier to my next GPS device and that's probably a good thing.

Finally, my wife and I "celebrated" our 45th anniversary yesterday (Yeah, I know. I'm older than dirt.). While my friend hacked away at the maintenance of his Yamaha TDM, we did some Cities prowling. First, because she is a plant-person, we spent the afternoon at the Minnesota Landscape Arboretum. I have no complaints about that place, other than the fact that I'm allergic to practically everything growing there. Following that, we went to dinner at what used to be one of our old favorite bar/restaurants on the Minneapolis Mississippi River. That place has changed! $6 domestic beer? $48 for a couple of hamburgers and two beers and the beer was luke warm and the burgers were too. I swear the fries came from McDonald's trashcan. Add the mediocre food to the fact that the clientele was almost exclusively spoiled UofM rich kids with nothing more important to discuss than their latest Facebook entries and you have a moment to "disremember" (to quote our last frat-brat "What me worry?" President). Good thing the plants were cooperative. As humans we should begin to aspire to the high standard of lilies, hostas, and trees.

Pick A Grudge

A while back, I wrote about my bias/grudge/allergy to a couple of motorcycle brands (Call Me "Doubting Thomas"). A while back, in a conversation with a group of college students about customer service, consumer awareness, and who has leverage and when, I was reminded of that bias/grudge/allergy. During that conversation, I realized that I have a few more things to say about this issue. More to the point, I discovered that a lot of people have taken strong biases toward brands and people and it appears that more intelligent people seem to hang on to these positions a lot longer than do . . . let's say "less complicated people."

So, for the fun of it, I decided to list a few of my never-do-that-again biases (in no particular order) and see if readers are interested in joining in:

1. Hyosung -- Not only was the Hyosung GV650-Avitar I reviewed in 2008 a near-perfect pile of crap, but my reward for holding back my real opinion of that poorly assembled bucket of parts was a hysterical temper tantrum from the company's marketing asshole. I probably won't live long enough to forget that experience. I do react poorly to being burned.
2. Sony -- Way back in the 80's, I owned, my employer owned, and several studios I worked for owned Sony CD players and Sony's inability to build a slide-out drawer that didn't jam up or fall off soured me on all-things-Sony for at least 30 years. Five years ago, I bought a Sony camera on recommendation from a friend. It lasted less than a month before the Mini-DV tape door motor began to fail. I thought the memory stick option would be a backup, but that route only recorded low-res video and is useless. This product models everything I expect from Sony. The company is very good at electronics and absolutely miserable with mechanical devices. This is a really old bias/grudge and I was more than a little surprised to realize that I've hung on to this one so long.The camera experience will extend that bias to the end of my life.
3. General Motors -- My father was a dedicated GM customer his whole life. From the 70's on, I don't think he had a single vehicle that wouldn't have been classified as a "lemon," and he traded for (and got screwed on) a new one every couple of years. Normally, my father was a conservative person, but mechanically he was a radical liberal. I drove a series of company trucks, all GM, for a decade and they were no better than my father's collection of junk. I was almost ready to change my opinion based on a California friend's experience with a leased EV1, when GM's corporate brain-tumor decided to trash the whole project. I haven't taken GM seriously since. 
4. McDonalds -- I do not like bullies. I'm not a big fast food fan, but I am not even close to being a food purist. I have not bought or eaten anything from McDonalds since 1997. The company will never see  a dollar of my money again.
5. Presonus -- Disappointing, really. This company ought to be my kind of people. They make cheap, reasonably well-engineered products that pretty much do what they claim to do. Their engineers are a collection of high-tech wizards who are also true believers. However, Presonus is trying to become the next Peavey and that is a whole 'nother world of customer-hostility. I have been disappointed, repeatedly by their products and their customer service is vicious. Been there, done that, won't go back.
6. Harley Davidson -- I suffered an Italian Harley-labeled 250 in the 60's, but that didn't make a mark on me. Years of experience with HD's customers did that job. There is something about a Harley that appears to lower the IQ of anyone who owns one. If you think I need more evidence to make an opinion, you might be permanently damaged. Look around you and see how many wizards you find riding Harleys. I've ridden at least a dozen HD products (not counting Buells) and there is nothing there for me. I may be old, but I'm not that old.  I don't play golf, either.
7. Polaris/Victory Motorcycles -- I hate having this grudge, but it might be one of my most rationally based biases. Several years ago, I bought a Pure Polaris Electric Scooter directly from the company, through one of Polaris' marketing executives. As you can see from the review, I liked this product a lot. As you can tell from the postscript, Polaris' attempt to disavow any knowledge of the Electric Scooter has put them into the grudge category and I've avoided their products since. In fact, when I was asked to do a review of the Polaris Victory Vision, I blew it off until other victims ended up doing the review. There was simply no chance that I would be able to ride one of Victory's hippobikes without being constantly reminded of the beating I'd taken from the company over my little electric scooter. Polaris/Victory is sort of a Minnesota/Wisconsin company and I'd like to like them. But I don't. Screw me once, shame on you. Screw me twice, shame on me. 
8. British Engineering -- This might be my oldest and least rational grudge. I owned an MGA in the 60's and there was nothing competent about that vehicle. It, also, drove me bankrupt the first and only time. Since, I have helped friends overhaul MGs, Triumphs (cars and motorcycles), BSAs, Nortons, and Jags and I have not seen any evidence that it is time for me to change my opinion. In the 1970's, the company I worked for bought a half-million-dollar "high tech, heavy duty gas welding" rig that was controlled by British electronics and was almost by itself the reason the company soon laid off 1200 employees. Everything from Vox to Marshall guitar amps and from Trident to SSL consoles has taught me that the Brits are willing to do anything to stuff electronics into a box and sell it for inflated prices. Finally, I rode some of the way to Alaska with a friend on a Tiger and his problems were familiar sutff. As a side note, I was convinced that Top Gear was a comedy show, until a couple of my students set me straight. A British television show that criticizes automotive engineering? WTF? (Sorry, Paul.) I have not ridden a new Triumph, though. Guess why?
9. FRAM Filters -- For years, I heard other people complain about FRAM's oil filters but I kept using them until one fell apart and nearly killed my V-Strom a couple of years ago. 
10. Non-Stick Cookware -- I've had it with this stuff. Talk about a product that breaks your heart. From the cheapest crap to a $90 omelet pan, the non-stick part starts sticking after about 10 uses. It's enough to drive me back to cooking with lard.

What Kills Local Dealers?

All Rights Reserved © 2012 Thomas W. Day

I was wrapping up a Basic MSF course a few weeks ago, telling the new motorcyclists about the 10% discount they'd receive on gear at local dealers by showing the completion card when one of the students asked, "Where do you buy your gear." Somewhat dishonestly, I named the usual suspects without thinking much about it. And I do try to buy locally whenever possible, but it's harder to make that possible all the time.

First, my favorite local dealer, Kline Motorsports, closed its doors last fall. Jim Kershaw, Kline's parts manager, went above and beyond my expectations for customer support and I, in turn, went way beyond my usual routine in making sure that I bought all of my V-Strom parts from him. When I was getting my gear ready for a 2007 trip to Alaska, I'd heard stories about how easily bad gas could wreak the V-Strom's fuel pump and I was all ready to buy a backup pump for the trip. When I explained my plan to Jim, he said, "Don't worry about it. I'll order one and, if you need it, we'll drop ship it to where ever you are." From then on, I bought everything from spare screws to gloves to repair parts from Kline. I didn't even go on-line to compare prices. I bought several hundred dollars worth of stuff from Kline every year and usually placed my orders over the phone. They didn't ask for advance payment and always delivered what I ordered within a few days.

My experience with two other local dealers goes back to when I first moved to the Cities, in 1996. I was riding a Yamaha TDM at the time and neither dealer stocked any parts for that bike, neither could get parts in less than a couple of weeks, and both required that I visit their parts room with a credit card before they'd order anything for me. I can do better than that on-line, without the hassle of dealing with the arrogant parts counter kids. Honestly, I sometimes think my usual on-line supplier is personally more interested in my business than the local guys demonstrated. Unlike most Americans, I have a long memory: "Burn me once, shame on you. Burn me twice, shame on me." Almost 25 years later, I still have a more personal relationship with Beach Yamaha in California than I've managed outside of Kline. It didn't hurt that the service manager and I both rode XTZ550's (his was a way cooler Canadian white version), but that store actually bothered to take customer names and worked to maintain that database.

Recently, I ran myself through the local service cycle to see if anything had changed. I needed an air filter for my WR Yamaha and I wanted it fast. I called the local dealers. Nobody had a filter in stock or knew how long it would take to get one and everyone wanted a credit card number to order the part. I called my neighborhood store for an aftermarket replacement and . . . again, a credit card and an undetermined wait and the kid wanted me to call the order line because he was too important to transfer the call. I went across town, got a counter guy who claimed to be able to get the part in a couple of days. I coughed up the credit card and waited. A week later, I called about the filter and was told it was coming from the other end of the country and I'd be notified when it arrived. There was no option to cancel the late order or inclination to call to tell me the two day delivery wouldn't happen.

My favorite on-line supplier had it in stock and could have delivered it next-day if I'd have paid the extra freight. So, while it would be hip and community-oriented to always buy locally, it's often the hard way to go.

The problem is that local dealers aren't all that interested in local customers. Their employees are mostly Boomerang Kids who have been convinced that living in mommy's basement and working at a motorcycle shop makes them cool. They don't need the job, or any job, and don't give a damn about the store's customers or the store itself. The store owners are disconnected from their customers and their business processes. Yamaha doesn't do it's dealers any favors either. Yamaha's "Greater Twin Cities Yamaha Dealers" site lists six dealers, including dealers in Belle Plaine, St. Bonifacius, and Forest Lake. The Hitching Post, Delano, 61, or Starr Cycle weren't even listed.

I, clearly, have some habits to break if I want to buy locally. First, I have to give up entirely on the dealers who have been useless in the past, regardless of how close they are to where I live. Starr Cycle, for example, has been incredibly helpful in the past but the 90 miles to Mankato is an obstacle. The same goes for Delano Sports Center, 45 miles from my home. Two to five hours of road time is hard to call "local," but you do the best you can with what you have.

A depressed economy doesn't just weed out the weak and incompetent. According to some reports, Suzuki lost almost 30% of its US dealers in 2008-09. A lot of good businesses have failed in the last four years and a lot more are on the edge. It's almost impossible for a working class dealer to overcome competition that is backed by a substantial trust fund. The good dealers need all the support they can get, but it may not be enough to overcome a stagnant economy. Going through the maze of chaff to find the good dealers is enough to drive anyone to the internet (where we search for the dealers in the first place). This is exactly what kills local business.

Product Review: Sargent Cycle Products World Sport Performance Seat

All Rights Reserved © 2009 Thomas W. Day

Initially, I was pretty happy with the stock Suzuki DL650 seat. I hadn't planned on swapping it out for a custom unit because I had other, more critical, places to put my money. After a 2 day, 900 mile trip through a variety of roads and non-roads, I was convinced I had "old guy butt" and needed some additional support for my upcoming 2007 Canada-Alaska-west-coast marathon. In the past, it was a no-brainer for me to buy from Corbin, whose replacement seats I've used on a half-dozen bikes. The last two seats from that company were disappointing, so I was looking for an alternative supplier. I'd heard good things about Sargent from other riders and decided to give them a try for the DL's seat replacement,

A week and a half after placing my money on the table, I received my new butt-platform. It wasn't cheap, which is why I didn't go this route right from the beginning; $399.90, including shipping, for the base-stock, GTX/Black welting, no-frills seat. The shipping container was incredibly light, much lighter than the stock seat, and I wondered if they'd forgotten to put anything other than packing peanuts into the box . I opened the box and found the seat was there, it's just incredibly light. There were a lot of packing peanuts, too.

This is a true custom seat, unlike some brands that simply recover the bike's original seat or use bits of the OEM hardware. You can sell your stock seat, because Sargent provides a complete replacement part. The Sargent seat slipped on to the V-Strom's frame much easier than the stock seat. The base is surprisingly flexible and, I suspect, that is some part of why the seat is so comfortable. Sargent puts almost as much thought into the bottom side of the seat as the business end. The documentation for the seat is conveniently rolled into a plastic tube that is bungied into a notch in the seat base. The tube provides a secure, water-tight place to store your owner's manual, insurance and registration information, passport, extra trip cash, and lots more.

Fit and finish-wise, it looks at least as good as the stock seat, even though I didn't buy any of the attention-getting color options and I went for the utilitarian GRIPTEX stock material. Sargent offers a lot of possibilities for the exterior decorating motorcyclist, one of which I'm not. This was one of the first 650 V-Strom seats they'd made and I was warned that it was "near-experimental."

The only things that really matter about a motorcycle seat is how it sits and how it holds up. I found the seat to be very roomy, for me and for a passenger. The platform base is wider than the stock seat, the foam support is stiffer, and that distributes the pressure more evenly across a rider's backside. After a 27-day, 10,000 mile trip to Canada, Alaska, and back, I can say that my Sargent seat was extremely comfortable.

On a negative note, the standard seat material (GRIPTEX, pictured at right) didn't prove to be particularly durable. After three months and 12,000 miles, my seat began to deteriorate, on both sides of the seat, at the point where the seat frame turns upward toward the tank. It looks to me like the frame edges needed to be de-burred to prevent abrasion at this pressure point.

However, the whole lower edge of the seat looks pretty stressed, so it could be the material is inappropriate for motorcycle seats. Maybe that thin, flexible seat frame creates an edge that is too sharp or flexes enough that it makes contact with the frame? Sargent stopped offering the GRIPTEX material, as of July, 2007, so when I returned it for warranty repairs I was offered a different material (out-of-warranty) as a replacement. I declined. Eventually, Sargent repaired the seat by trimming the pan and tucking the excess material back under the edge, hiding the damaged material under the seat.

I had my last Corbin seat repaired by a local boat upholstery technician and it held up for another four years (the original seat only lasted a year) and still looked like new when I sold the bike. I'll just take the Sargent back to that guy if the material flaws become a serious problem. At this point, I'd have to say, "No, I probably wouldn't buy a Sargent for my next bike." Their "one year limited warranty" was a disappointment, at least as far as the torn section of the seat is concerned. This may be another American company that is suffering from too much success? However, I can't complain about Sargent's customer service. The tech was communicative and did a good job repairing the tear and reworked the other side of the seat to prevent a similar failure there.

POSTSCRIPT 7/1/2018: 12 years later, my Sargent seat looks as good as it did the day it came back from the factory repaired. I put another 60,000 miles on that seat and never again reconsidered my initial investment as anything but brilliant. I sold the V-Strom today to a relatively young rider who plans to double the bike's mileage in the next few years. He was as impressed with the comfort of the Sargent seat as me and has written me twice to comment on how well the bike "fits" him. I've changed my mind, the odds are excellent that I'll buy another Sargent seat for my WR250X.