Its June. The bike has been sitting there since last fall. It is a 16-year old Honda CBR 900rr, white-purple-yellow, with 36,000-miles, and a handful of after-market goodies on it.
Kelley’s blue book lists it at $2500 for excellent condition. The seller, who has consigned his motorcycle at a local shop, is demanding $3,500. He has had three offers at $3,000 and so far has refused to budge. I’m interested as well, but (I keep telling myself) not at $3,500.
My dad has a saying: Something is worth only what another is willing to pay for it. Its value can be assessed at any random point, but if you can’t find a buyer, then it’s really not worth all that much. Is it?
Or in the case of the CBR, its value is $2700, it is worth $3500 to the seller and about $3000 to most prospective buyers, but right now, sitting for months in a showroom, its bringing no one anything in cash or enjoyment, but a big ol’ goose egg.
The corollaries, of course, are that nothing depreciates quite like a car. Except a motorcycle.
You will never ever get out what you put into a motorcycle. Doesn't matter if it’s the constant drain on your bank account and time to keep a vintage moto running, or the relentless hits to your wallet each time you by something your bike absolutely has to have, be it slip-ons, or rearsets, or levels, or a new saddle, or…
Yep. Buy until you’re broke.
You will never ever get out what you put into a motorcycle. Doesn't matter if it’s the constant drain on your bank account and time to keep a vintage moto running, or the relentless hits to your wallet each time you by something your bike absolutely has to have, be it slip-ons, or rearsets, or levels, or a new saddle, or…
Yep. Buy until you’re broke.
But these hard-fast rules, when viewed through the prism of motorcycle fanaticism mean nothing to the two-wheeled devotee.
Not surprising when you are talking about a cohort of the population who would rather dodge traffic, suck exhaust fumes, and swelter under the blazing sun and heavy gear than experience the comfort of air conditioning and a seat-back with headrest.
Not surprising when you are talking about a cohort of the population who would rather dodge traffic, suck exhaust fumes, and swelter under the blazing sun and heavy gear than experience the comfort of air conditioning and a seat-back with headrest.
For the rider, the motorcycle represents more than just a mode of transportation: While four-wheels moves the body, two-wheels move the soul.
A motorcycle can be an expression of art. Or self.
Or more viscerally, a moment free from the daily grind, responsibilities, the rules, the regulations, the overbearing demand to do the safe and sensible thing. (Don’t believe me? Just try to find a rider who doesn’t harbor an innate, and deeply rooted, issue with authority. Seriously. You can’t do it.)
Try to put a rational dollar sign on that.
Which, might explain why riders feel compelled to spend more money fixing a favorite moto than its estimated value.
Sound familiar?
Or maybe you too have explained hanging on to a beloved bike by admitting it makes sense to let it go, but... you just can't make yourself do it.
Or spent well over the value on a motorcycle because it reminds you of the bike you never should have sold, or the one you wanted growing up, or because you simply had to have it. It was meant to be your bike. And it was worth it.
Or, like so many riders, consistently price the bike you are selling well above value. A bike you've had during the good, bad, and the ugly. And the fun.
The bike embodies your memories and demands your affection. Not to mention time: hours of cleaning, cajoling, and wrenching and dreaming of the next great adventure. That time spent with the machine means something; its worth something.
And that worth far exceeds the value of its parts.
Rational? Probably not. But is riding a motorcycle really all that rational anyway?
As for that CBR? The seller is its first owner, responsible for all 36,000-miles on its engine and chassis. Its not just a motorcycle to him. It represented who he was. Helped make him who he is today. And that's apparently worth an extra $1000 or so. He is not going to sell out to some assigned value.
The real question, of course, is how much that CBR, the very same one I lusted over when it first appeared in the cycle magazines and one the roads, the one I imagined I was riding while practicing on my starter bike, the end all-be all of motorcycles that was going to change my world, is worth to me.
Cheers!
Love the column, hate the column, got a better idea? Leave a comment or email: Ann@SunnyRyder.com
Love the column, hate the column, got a better idea? Leave a comment or email: Ann@SunnyRyder.com