I'd had an ebay search set up for months already looking for a used example, but they rarely come up - the model has proven to be very unpopular here in the UK, where people on A2 licences want the 300 as it's closer to the power limit they are allowed and people interested in economical transport are likely to find something cheaper/older. And yet, lo and behold, there it was right when I needed it - a black 2016 Z250SL, crashed and fixed up with a Koso dash and generic round headlight with 3200 miles under its wheels and a chain slack enough to be pulled off the sprockets by hand. A very unpopular bike indeed! I won the auction at £1000, added the bike to my Carole Nash policy with an extortionate £40 admin fee slapped on top and bought a train ticket to head down from Leicester to That London, specifically Erith near Dartford. The obvious plan was to turn up, hand over the money, tighten the chain and ride it home. Yeah right..
I eventually arrived outside a block of flats, in full bike gear and with a backpack full of the tools that Ren at BAT had told me I would need to tighten the chain, and called Ben who was the owner. It transpires he has sustained a scaphoid fracture from this crash and can no longer twist the throttle, so he may as well sell up. He dutifully appeared and took me inside to view the bike - there it was, just like in the pictures! Except, upon closer inspection, it didn't roll. We stood around, prodded the gear lever, found it was in gear (which Ben didn't normally leave it in..) and changed it to neutral but it still wouldn't roll. Then we found the front brake disc was bent - some kids had tried to lever the disclock off and mangled the disc instead! This was a major setback but I was too far in to back out, another admin fee and the cost of a train ticket home was not a welcome thought. We go up to Ben's flat/bedroom and look up how much a disc is from Kawasaki - around £200. Ben offers to knock £250 off the £1000 and I agree, as long as it starts and runs well enough.
Ben faffs around and eventually fits the battery, after I find the block for one of the terminals lying on the floor nearby. It fires up after a few pichoos and settles into a disturbingly quick tickover, such is EFI. It sounds sweet enough, maybe a bit clattery for a modern water cooled machine, but soon there is smoke rising from the exhaust under the engine.. A closer look reveals oil is dripping off the motor straight on to the catalytic converter, some is sitting behind the cylinder while more is basically all around the clutch cover. Ben is near panic now, but I don't mind too much. I suggest it may make the bike harder for me to sell on, so after some searching for answers on google for questions like "engine oil leak meaning" he offers to knock a further £100 off the price. A 3200 mile, 1 year old machine for £650.. I couldn't refuse. Poor Ben though, it seemed everything in life went for him like this - he'd even shelled out £450 previously to have a replacement set of locks fitted after some kids screwdrivered the original ignition barrel, and a further £600 or so to have the crash damage repaired. He was well down on the deal, having paid the full £3800 RRP to get his hands on one of these machines. I did actually feel bad for him.
Having insured it with Carole Nash more than 24 hours previous, I could use the breakdown recovery service to get home. Of course their system is slower than this and no one believed that the bike was actually insured with them, and of course CN's offices were closed after 4PM on a Saturday. Eventually someone at AVIVA took my credit card details in case they had to charge me for the recovery and I was on my way, I started phoning at 16:30 and had someone on their way by 17:30. Unfortunately they didn't arrive until 23:30, and they are with a low loader. I explain that the bike doesn't roll, but the driver doesn't care. He tries to push it and realises it doesn't roll, but he is absolutely not allowed to let us help him, which prompts him to phone his boss. He passes the phone to me at one point so I can explain to the boss that the bike doesn't roll, and if he winches it on forwards he's not going to be able to winch it off backwards at the end of the journey! "However my man wants to do it is how it'll be done" says the boss, and asks to be handed back over to his man. The man starts to winch the bike on, is most of the way up the ramp to the beaver tail and then the light comes on, the penny drops, both me and Ben see it - he looks at us. He says if he winches it on, how is he going to get it off again at the other end? Slow clap. He pulls the bike back off the trailer, apologises for it being the first bike he's ever had to leave behind, and goes off to his next job.
After another hour or so someone from SOS Motorcycle Recovery turns up in a proper van - hooray! I help him load it in (finally, sense prevails), I bid farewell to Ben who stayed with me the whole time (bless him) and we set off at warp speed, it was like Need For Speed but in real life. Sadly he could only take me to South Mimms services, he was not allowed to leave the London area as he was the only person they had down there. I waited a further 45 minutes or so and then a guy on a low loader turns up, you know this doesn't roll right, what they never said etc. etc. and I help him load it on. He goes on and on about how this is the correct way to strap a bike down, never strap them by the handlebars because they'll bend, yadda yadda and breaks the front mudguard in the process but it was too dark for me to notice at the time. He took me as far as Watford Gap services and left me.
By this time it is around 3AM, and I get a text from CN stating that they don't have anyone available to pick me up until 5:30. Twenty minutes later I get a call from a lady with an Indian accent, oh joyous Leicester.. A little bit later an Italian guy turned up, strapped the bike down hard on to his low loader and we set off for home sweet home. We eventually arrive in the street, lights blazing, big diesel rattling, and get the new purchase off the trailer. I can't even roll it into the driveway, just abandon it in the street. Bed time. Strangely there was no "new bike joy" this time, it was already tainted by this experience. I was also majorly annoyed with Carole Nash, what a piss poor service that was.
A few pictures of this first contact:
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