More on the TR1

Some while back, I decided to sell my TR1. As it failed to reach the eBay reserve, I tried the more traditional method of advertising in a motorcycle magazine. This elicited an interested buyer who came to see the bike.

Things didn’t exactly get off to a good start because I couldn’t get the bike to run properly. I suspect that the prolonged layoff caused the petrol to gum up the carburettor jets. Certainly I had good fat sparks but it was not firing on the lead cylinder. I was still poking around with this when my potential buyer showed up.

We spent a while talking about the bike and its history. He sat on it and promptly decided that he didn’t like the handlebars. He asked if I had the originals – after 21 years, no, I didn’t. He asked if I had the original shorter cables. I wasn’t sure – I might have, but couldn’t say (as it subsequently turned out, I did). Besides, it’s a niggling little matter and not something I wanted to fuss too much about. As time went on, and we started to get the to the crux of the transaction, he made it clear that I was asking too much. Now, I knew this. I deliberately asked well over my preferred price to allow for the dreaded haggling. I hate haggling, which is why I usually avoid private sales. On this occasion, it was a necessity. I realised that there was a reverse psychology going on. Usually, a buyer will try to find points that he can use to negotiate the price down – new tyres, new brakes, new battery and so on. As all of these didn’t apply, the general condition of the bike became an issue. It does need repainting, and standing for the best part of ten years has caused deterioration. He didn’t like the mileage. At 55,000 miles, it had seen some life, but it isn’t excessive.

Unfortunately, the usual method of knocking the price down with criticism, whether overt or not, has exactly the opposite effect on me to that desired. It puts my hackles up and I feel less inclined to negotiate. I rapidly recognised that whatever price was offered, it wouldn’t be enough. It dawned on me then, that I didn’t want to sell – not to this man and not to anyone else.

I felt sorry for his wasted trip. But, for me, it was a relief to watch him walk away empty handed. That relief made me acknowledge that I just can’t part with this bike. I have lived with it for too long. It has become a part of my life. So, when I have the time and funds, I’ll do what I’ve been planning to do all along. I’ll restore it to its former glory and use it as a Sunday afternoon bike. It’s earned that.