The worst people to bring when buying a used motorcycle

I say that somewhat facetiously.

Somewhat.

Recently, my husband, Andrea, our friend Art, and I rode out to look at a used motorcycle Andrea had spotted on Facebook Marketplace. It was a beautiful afternoon to ride, so we took in a few twisties near the seller's house before our appointment.

While we were stopped at an intersection, about to turn onto a state highway, Andrea's bike shut off and wouldn't start again. We pulled over and tried a few things, but nothing worked. The dash came on. The engine cranked. Everything appeared ready for a successful departure except the part where the motorcycle actually started.

Andrea then noticed that we were right in front of a strip mall with a hot rod mechanic's shop. Fortuitously, the garage door was open. My husband pushed his bike into the parking lot and asked the mechanic, whose head was deep inside a small-block Chevy, if he might have a tool or two we could borrow. The mechanic was kind enough to grab his battery and fuse testers, but the problem was not obvious. We'd have to leave the motorcycle behind and return later with a trailer. The mechanic said not to worry; he'd be there until the car was done. In other words, he joked, forever.

Andrea checked the time and said we could still make the appointment to see the other motorcycle. We had just abandoned his Ducati because it wouldn't start, and our solution was to continue on to look at another Ducati. Fifteen minutes earlier, Andrea had declared his Streetfighter his favorite motorcycle ever. Did it understand that we were on our way to meet another Italian beauty? Was this its way of objecting? Probably not, but the timing was suspicious. I handed Andrea the key to my Streetfighter 848, hopped on the back of Art's BMW R 1200 C, and away we went.

We pulled up to the house, and Art sought refuge under a shady tree. It was a sunny day in upstate New York, and we had gotten overheated in the parking lot. Andrea and I introduced ourselves to the seller, who was moving out of state and trying to downsize his car and motorcycle collection.

He had pulled out the motorcycle for sale: a gorgeous, clean 2016 Ducati Monster 1200 S. He admitted he barely rode it. He had a Harley that better fit his riding style, but he loved the Monster's design so much that he kept it around as motorcycle art. This seemed irrational, which is why we immediately understood it.

Andrea had wanted a pearly-white Monster from the mid-2010s ever since trying an 821 at a dealership in Vermont several years earlier. For one reason or another, other models had come and gone from our garage, but he'd never owned the Monster he remembered from that test ride. I knew this as the seller handed over the key, and Andrea took it for a quick test ride down the twisty lane where the seller lived.

The throaty sound arrived before Andrea pulled back into the driveway, and I could somehow see his smile beneath the helmet. When Andrea pulled up beside me and lifted his visor, I quietly said, "I think you should get it." Art gave two thumbs up from the shade. That was the entirety of our input.

People assume friends, or especially spouses, will ask sensible questions when you look at a used motorcycle. They expect things like: "When was the last oil change?" "How old are the tires?" "Has it ever been dropped?"

We asked none of those things. Not because we forgot, but because we are terrible people to bring motorcycle shopping. Our inspection process was: Did it look good? Yes. Did it sound good? Yes. Did Andrea return from the test ride looking happy? Absolutely. Inspection complete.

Andrea and the seller shook on the deal, and we said we'd be back with the trailer since we had to retrieve the other bike anyway.

When we returned with the trailer, his Streetfighter went home with us, too. After some internet research, Andrea suspected a detached fuel hose. A mechanically gifted friend helped reconnect it, and the bike ran perfectly.

A few days later, Andrea proudly rode the new-to-us Monster to a dealer meetup to show it to our friends. When it was time to leave, it wouldn't start. Instead of making fun of us (well, maybe some of them did), several people offered to help. Friends tried a portable jump starter and a rolling start. Nothing worked. We left the bike overnight with the dealer's mechanic. Our friend Mike gave us his Multistrada V4 to ride home two-up and took my single-seat Monster 696, which he was happy to exchange for his bike the next day. The dealer traced the problem to a blown fuse and said the battery had not been charging properly.

Several days later, I rode the newly nicknamed "big" Monster, or Monsterone, and commented that the tires weren't gripping. I have been called the Princess and the Pea of tire pressure because I can apparently detect a few missing psi from the seat of a motorcycle, and these tires didn't feel right at all. Given their age, we knew they would need replacing before long, but now replacement tires moved to the top of our parts list.

Would the charging problem or older tires have dissuaded us from buying the motorcycle? No. They wouldn't have. They simply became line items in the post-purchase budget. That does not make an inspection irrelevant. It just means the inspection may be more likely to change the budget than the decision.

Art always says you know when you want the motorcycle, and practicalities often have little to do with it unless there's something obviously wrong.

I knew Andrea wanted the Monster. Of course, he says he might have tried to negotiate on price had he realized the condition of the tires. But after years of buying and selling used motorcycles, we've learned to assume there might be a little money to spend on top of the purchase price, whether for maintenance, repairs, or simply making the bike your own.

And to be fair, this isn't a Ducati story. We've bought enough Hondas, BMWs, Suzukis, and other motorcycles to know that used bikes can come with a surprise or two, which brings me back to my original suggestion. Never bring your friends with Multiple Motorcycle Disease to inspect a used motorcycle. Instead, maybe bring your financial planner or a spouse who already has other plans for your money.

Those of us with MMD won't ask sensible questions. We certainly won't talk you out of buying it. We will not save you from yourself. We'll simply listen to the engine, watch your face when you come back from the test ride, and say the only thing that really matters:

"I think you should get it."