Project Phoenix

Okay, I admit I probably wasn’t thinking straight, but when my hand went up and made just the third bid on lot 29, I somehow didn’t expect it to be an act of much significance.

Ten seconds later the hammer fell, leaving me as the last bidder. What had seemed like a bit of harmless fun had turned into a major purchase. Nothing prepared me for the surge of adrenaline which accompanied the realisation that I’d just won this auction.

The machines that attracted me there in the first place were a Suzuki SV1000 and a Triumph Sprint ST, but one ended up being too expensive and the other too badly damaged for my purposes.

So, somehow, I’d bid $2600 (about $2800 after the buyer’s premium was added) for a 2004 Honda CBR1100XX Super Blackbird with 11,500km on the clock and an as yet undetermined amount of accident damage.

It looked pretty straight, except for the obvious slide it had taken on its right-hand side, busting the front and right fairings, the headlight, the mirror/indicator unit and right handlebar, and doing what looked like minor damage to the front end.

Apart from that and a couple of scratches I was optimistic that there wasn’t a lot wrong, but I had to remember that some insurance assessor had decided that this four-year-old bike with low kilometres should be declared a (repairable) write-off, and despite a new price around $15,000 it had just been sold to me for less than $3k. Some interesting maths lay ahead.

All of a sudden I was doing quick and largely ill-informed calculations based on the market value for this model, guesses as to the cost of repairs, on-road costs and, therefore, how much I could make by fixing it up and selling it.

You see, the plan was never to do up a bike for me to keep: it was a DIY project which might earn a few bucks -- at least that’s what I’d told my wife as I headed to the auction. Anyway, despite the Blackbird’s fabulous reputation, I’d never actually considered owning one. How things change.

When I came back down to earth I had to work a few other things out:
1.    How to pay for a bike I’ve just bought at auction?
2.    How to find out exactly what needs fixing?
3.    How to get the bike home?
4.    What happens if it’s got much more damage than I think?

Luckily a deposit via EFTPOS was all that was needed straight away, so I had roughly 48 hours up my sleeve to work out how to get the bike out of the auction house and into someone’s workshop. Explaining this unexpected purchase to my wife might take longer and prove far more expensive.

The balance of the purchase price was dealt with by direct transfer, meaning another trip to the outer-suburban auction centre wasn’t required. So now there were two very important things to do: find a workshop to do a damage assessment, and find some way of getting the bike to said workshop.

I was clever enough to know that before I started paying for repairs I should spend a modest amount finding out if fixing this bike was a viable option in the first place.

Asking around soon led me to a bike transporter, CycHaul, which would ferry the machine across town for me for about $100. Michael from CycHaul was extremely helpful, and managed the whole process from pick up to delivery at my nominated workshop without me having to be present at any stage. All communication was by phone and email, including payment and issuing of the receipt. Most convenient.

Then after speaking to a few mechanics in the strip of bike shops near home I decided, curiously, to leave my new investment in the hands of the one with the highest the per-hour labour charge. Without disparaging any of their neighbours, this turned out to be an excellent choice, because the boys at Bikes ‘n’ Bits on Nepean Highway in Brighton handled the whole job exactly as I had naively hoped they would.

I explained to them that I had just bought a repairable write-off, and instantly noticed the “good luck, mate” looks in their eyes. A couple of them had been through the same process, so they were able to give me a rough idea of the perils that lay ahead. I told them I was in no hurry, and that I was on a tight budget, so when their other work allowed I wanted an assessment done to tell me what needed fixing/replacing.

Within a week came the news I was waiting for, but not just a parts list, they had also given me a print-out of what Honda would charge for al new genuine items, and a list of the parts that were available second-hand, plus expected prices. The upshot? Used parts would set me back about $2500, while the new genuine items would total something upwards of twice that much. Ouch.

Heading the list was basically a whole new front end. Though the forks and wheel looked good at a glance (and there’s not a lot of room around each bike in the auction house, so close inspections are difficult for a 190cm bloke like me), the front must have taken a hefty hit, bending one of the forks, the lower triple clamp and both the discs. This would be expensive.

Knowing my limited mechanical abilities I made the decision to source the parts myself, and then get the experts to restore the bike to mechanically perfect condition. I would then attempt to do the cosmetic portion of the restoration myself.

While the busted fairings were off I took the opportunity to acquaint myself with what goes on under the skin of my ‘bird. Not having a service record to rely on, I also changed the oil and filter, and gave the engine a bit of a stationary run, checking for leaks or worrying noises. Thankfully all was well and sounding just as smooth as I had been told it should.

Luckily one of the first things I did after buying the bike was to get onto the Internet and discover a fabulous community of Blackbird riders. The forums section of www.CBRXX.com proved to be a goldmine of advice, information, literature and support. I even got offers of assistance from Blackbird owners in nearby suburbs. I was heading into the great unknown, but I was not alone.

Next I found a site that allows you to place a wish list of parts, and before long there were responses flooding into my inbox, with a fairing panel here, a disc there, a handlebar or a fork leg. In the end I opted for new aftermarket discs and pads, delivered overnight from interstate, and a basket of goodies from Victorian Motorcycle Wreckers in West Heidelberg, which I picked up myself, including a set of forks, headlight (with freshly plastic welded bolt holes) instrument cluster bracket, footpeg and handlebar, for $1100 all up.

Of course the headlight was from another wreck, so two of the four mounting points had been broken and repaired with plastic welding, meaning it would be hard to get it to fit exactly flush, but the hundreds of dollars I saved in comparison to a new one made that worth it. And the handlebar turned out to be from a different year, meaning the alloy was not quite the same shade as mine, so another trip was required to get a matching one.

The internet also held other treasures for me, but getting my hands on the right ones would not be a straightforward matter. Within a couple of days of getting the parts list one seller on eBay had three of them available at what looked likely to be fair prices. But I’d had limited success with eBay in the past, so I decided to use strategy. That was mistake No. 73.

Friends with much more eBay experience than I had asked, amazed, “What? You don’t snipe?” So after having this devious technique explained to me I thought I would give it a try. Unfortunately, like so many blokes, I didn’t read the instructions before I opened the pack, so my attempts to ensure I bought these items for the lowest possible price backfired and I only got one of them. Of course the one I most wanted, the fairing panel, sold for a better price than I’ve seen anywhere before or since. D’oh!

Then came the most curious and frustrating of all my Internet adventures. I definitely needed a new front cowl and right-hand fairing panel, while the front guard and left-hand fairing were not 100 percent, but would suffice if I didn’t mind the bike looking slightly imperfect.

But the cost of a new, genuine cowl and right-hand side panel was enormous, so I looked for alternatives. More than one member of the Blackbird forum suggested a company based in Hong Kong which manufactures aftermarket fairings for many popular Japanese bikes, which they said did good products at a fair price.

So, despite the then-weak Aussie dollar I investigated their site on eBay and worked out that I might as well pay a bit extra for the full fairing set, so the whole bike would look new and any decent parts I removed could then be on-sold to cover some of the cost.

Around $1000 (including postage) and a couple of weeks later, a large box arrived containing a whole lot of very well packed pieces, including filler panels and various plastic covers that I wasn’t expecting to receive. The paint work looked excellent and the quality much the same. I was rapt. Until I saw the graphics.

The pictures say it all, but apart from the word “Honda” just above the headlight, every single graphic had at least one mistake. While the ‘Dual Combined Brakb System’ made me laugh, I would have to say my favourite is the ‘RC Valves Carburetor’ addition to the ‘PGM-FI’ label.

Added to these mistakes of spelling/English, all the graphics just look totally different to the originals, so there’s no way you could mix and match panels without the bike looking like a bitsa.  If I was keeping the bike for myself I would happily put these panels on and have a funny talking point underneath me, but this is a bike I’m trying to restore to almost new condition, so cheap-looking mistakes just won’t do.

However, the single biggest piece of bodywork I needed was the upper cowl and headlight surround. I have to admit it took me quite a while, some less-than gentle persuasion, and a few trips to the local Honda dealer for assorted clips, bolts and brackets, but I managed to install it all correctly. Seeing the dash, headlight and indicators all working perfectly at the end was a very satisfying experience.

In the end, though, impatience with the constant delays and my unwillingness to shell out hundreds more dollars led me to fit some of the offending panels as well. But perhaps “fit” isn’t quite the right word. Certainly there are some gaps between trim panels that Mr. Honda wouldn’t be happy with, but overall it looks like a pretty well-maintained ‘bird.

This episode showed up the perils of internet commerce. By the time I’d ordered the fairings, received them via sea mail, noticed the mistakes and contacted the seller without success, more than two months had passed, meaning that when I came to contact eBay to complain about the product not matching the description, they told me I’d left it too late and there was nothing they could do to help me. What a caring, helpful organisation!

Anyway, the bike is now complete again and adding up my various expenses (below) shows that I’ve spent just over $8000 to get it straight, legal and back on the road.

You could look at that figure three ways: it’s either a lot of money to pay for a bike that’s been wrecked, a cheap price for a low-kilometre example of a much-loved and proven model, or, put it up for sale and see what the market says it’s worth.

I realised early on that I would probably make more money breaking up the bike and selling the parts, but that sounded like a very fiddly job, which my mechanical skills were probably not up to, and more importantly, like most riders, I would rather rehabilitate a quality machine than see it pulled apart.

The best bit, though, is that it rides like a dream! Now to explain to the “opposition leader” that I might not sell it straight away after all…..

So finally the bike was all together, leaving only the administrative nasties to be negotiated. In Victoria that means the following:
1.    Roadworthy certificate
2.    Vehicle Identification Verification (VIV) certificate
3.    VicRoads (Registration) inspection

The RWC was completed without drama by the same workshop that put the bike back together. Not that they would ever do otherwise, but the knowledge that this bike was about to be gone through with a fine-tooth comb by not one but two inspectors meant they were as thorough as possible. Come to think of it, if I’m planning to ride this bike, possibly at ungodly speeds, or even if I’m selling it to someone else who will do the same, I want to know that everything is working as it should.

Next step was the dreaded VIV -- a process several people had warned me about. The way it works is this:
1.    Book in, usually more than a week ahead, with no say over where it is carried out;
2.    Turn up and pay $484 for the privilege, without having had access to the list of faults the original assessor produced when deciding to write the bike off;
3.    Produce every receipt, invoice, photo, etc. imaginable to prove that the work has been carried out legally and professionally. This may include a stat declaration covering any repairs you have done yourself;
4.    Leave it with the inspector for several hours at least, or up to a day;
5.    Spend the ensuing hours hoping and praying; and
6.    Return, to be told whether your machine has passed. If not, return to step one.

The idea behind the VIV is sound, but its execution leaves a great deal to be desired. Essentially it was put in place to prevent the dodgy rebirthing of cars, bikes and trucks. This way any written-off vehicle must comply with manufacturer’s specifications before it can be reregistered. But it’s no surprise that many people have been left mightily cheesed off by the whole process.

Take the bloke who bought a six-year-old car with rear damage and spend several thousand dollars doing it up properly. He turned up to the VIV inspection only to be told that there was pre-existing damage to the chassis rails in the engine bay, so the vehicle couldn’t be given a VIV until that was fixed.

Or the guy who fixed a written-off bike and got the VIV, but was suddenly sent overseas to work for a few months before he could register it. He came back, went to VicRoads and was told: “Sorry, the VIV is only valid for three months, so you need to get a new one before you can register the bike. PS: That will be another $484 thanks!”

The price is excessive and according to at least one licensed VIV inspector (there are only about 30 statewide) they have to spend so much of their time on VicRoads organised training seminars and other associated junkets that it’s barely worth it for them. Then they get audited by VicRoads inspectors more often than you would imagine, so if it makes you feel any better, you, the bike owner/fixer, are not the only one who doesn’t enjoy this part of the process.

Click on the following link to check out the Honda Super Blackbirds currently for sale on the Bikesales Network.