On The Mark

In the movie “Toy Story,” there’s a character named Sid, the misanthropic 11-year-old neighbor of main character Andy. Sid tortures his sister, partly by torturing her toys and his own. Sid’s collection of toys consists of horrendous, mutant creations like Babyface, with the head of a doll shorn of hair and the body of a mechanical spider, and Legs, an ice-fishing pole sporting Barbie legs. The cast of characters in Sid’s mutant menagerie is numerous and evoke horror and sympathy amongst the unmodified toys.

Unfortunately, there are quite a few “Sids” in the motorcycle world. I was reminded of this tonight when a friend posted photos of a low-mileage sportbike on a for-sale web site. I was initially intrigued by the tiny image on my phone until I was able to open all the images on a larger screen, where I was subsequently saddened by what I saw. Let’s set the stage by noting that the machine was lovingly designed and built by Suzuki as a liter-class sportbike, where “sportbike” implies the ability to nimbly dance around corners.

What I saw, instead of a finely-crafted, maneuverable machine, was one of Sid’s mutant toys wherein the rear swingarm had been replaced by a ridiculously long one of dubious parentage. This is, unfortunately, a fairly common modification among local sportbike boys because they fancy themselves drag racers, having long ago realized they can’t ride around corners. I am not allergic to the idea of a drag-racing motorcycle, but far too many of these creations still wind up on the street. This one appears to be no exception, as it still sports passenger footpegs (!) and other items with which a true drag-racer would dispense to save weight. Clearly, this example was put together for pose value, including the chainguard on the rear swingarm with “Evil” laser-cut into the metal.

Unlike Sid’s creations, which can be done inexpensively by murdering fellow toys, it is clear that a significant amount of money was invested in the mutant Gixxer. A longer swingarm begets a longer rear brake line (in colorful stainless steel), a much longer chain, different sprockets, and so on. There were a host of things sourced from aftermarket suppliers amounting to what I imagine was four or five thousand dollars on top of the bike’s base price. None of the mods is significant enough to make the bike more competitive, either at the strip or at a “concours de elegance.”

You might wonder if I am anti-modification and the answer is a resounding “no!” Most of my bikes have what I consider useful, well-chosen modifications like driving lights, aftermarket saddles and luggage for long-distance touring, flashing rear brake lights for safety, adjustable-reach levers, and so forth. I wholeheartedly believe that it’s your right to make a machine your own and nothing vexes me more than manufacturers who actively discourage that ability. The “CAN bus” has been called the “Can’t Add Nothing” bus, for example. Having to rewire a brand-new bike so the accessory sockets go straight to the battery is just sad.

I also believe there’s a limit. When a mod changes the design of the bike so much that the original intent is lost, then maybe it’s time to consider another machine. Some mods may compromise safety and it doesn’t take much: I once rode a bike for a fella who lowered both the suspension and the pegs to the point where the maneuverability of the bike was in question, grounding out the pegs at lean angles typical of normal urban riding. I bought a bike where the handlebar risers stretched the control cables and hydraulic lines to the point of being guitar strings until I removed the risers. A local shop made a handsome living cutting through the front frames of brand-new motorcycles so they could be rewelded and a 31 inch front wheel could be installed instead of the stock one. That mod was so popular, yet sketchy, that it fostered a question on insurance forms.

The really sad thing about most modifications is that they don’t change the value of the bike. Sell or trade a bike and you’ll be offered the book value irrespective of the number of gewgaws onboard (some may actually lower the number). I wager the young man selling the bike that inspired this column is about to get a rude awakening of that nature if he can sell it at all. So, it’s not a matter of whether we can modify our machines – given enough money, we most assuredly can – it’s more a matter of should we. Consider whether the magnitude of the mod constitutes an improvement or whether it creates one of Sid’s mutant toys. It takes less than you think.