I was over visiting my parents in Chilliwack one day in 2006 when my daughter phoned me. She said Dad, “I dont think I saw your motorcycle in its parking spot when I left for work”. With that my day started, an adventure that would conclude several months later. I would have my stolen motorcycle back but not in the same condition that it was before that day. My motorcycle was not covered by ICBC.
The motorcycle I had was a 1982 Yamaha Maxim 650, it was in great shape and almost ready for collector plates. Original paint and just over 18000 kms, the only part of the motorcycle. The only type of repair was a small amount of rust on the tail pipe. I was going to replace with new stock pipes this bike was in perfect condition and I really liked it. Maybe just maybe if I had put an on the motorcycle I wouldnt have this problem.
Confirming that the motorcycle was actually missing took sometime as my daughter was on a 8 hour shift. I had a ferry ride back to Nanaimo before I could get there myself. Once arriving home, I discovered she was right it was missing.
A quick call to the security company that looked after our condo building left me frustrated. The cameras were not operational in the garage at the time. A call to the cops left me even more frustrated. Finally, a call to the insurance company left me even more frustrated, they informed me that my overpriced policy did not cover the motorcycle (thanks ICBC). Cops never came out, or even gave a dam really. I had pretty much been told by everybody sorry for your loss, but they aren’t going to do anything. Nobody put in any effort to find the motorcycle, pretty much exactly what they said.
After several days I had pretty much given up hope of getting my bike back. I got up and headed to work in Duncan, BC with my wife. The 45 minute trip from Nanaimo to Duncan was about to become a real interesting day. We came to a stop at a stop light beside a strip mall, I turned to talk to Eileen and noticed a Maxim 650 sitting in the parking lot. I said to Eye “lets go see if that is my stolen motorcycle”.
We pulled up a few parking spots beside the bike and I casually walked past the bike and took a good look at the motorcycle. The bike was painted, very poorly, but it was clearly my motorcycle. The rust on the tail pipes was the absolute give away.
The only thing open in the strip mall was Smittys Restaurant. It also happened to be where at least a dozen cops had decided to meet for breakfast. I walked into the restaurant, and asked the hostess where the cops where sitting. She pointed over to the corner where they were sitting. I arrived at the table and stood at the end of the table and stated to the cops sitting there “See that motorcycle over there? The motorcycle over there has been reported stolen!”
The cop sitting closest to me looked at me and questioned me “How do you know that?”
I quickly replied with “because it is my motorcycle that I reported stolen the other day!”
“Is there anyone finished breakfast that can deal with this?” the cop asked the group. Several quickly got up and walked outside to the stolen motorcycle with me.
Once arriving at the motorcycle that cop asked me how I knew the bike was mine, I told him about the pipes was the biggest give away but then said to himif he hasnt changed the ignition lock, I have a key which I handed to him. The bike looked like they were bypassing the ignition now instead of using it and my key turned the ignition. They confirmed it was indeed my motorcycle by running the serial number.
I thought that would be the end of it, my bike was no longer in original condition but I had it back. Then several days later ICBC contacted me questioning whether the bike was actually mine or not. I had to take the bike in and let them inspect it. Later that day ICBC phoned back stating “the frame has been modified”. As well, there is two serial numbers on the bike, mine and one other.
They would have to determine if it was really mine or not. To make me even more frustrated they told me the other serial number belonged to a Honda Shadow, not even a Yamaha. How could this take time to figure out? So here I was, sitting without a bike again while they determined if it was mine. Several days went by when the phone finally rang with the news to come and get my bike. As it turned out all the serial numbers but one where mine on the bike, they had cut out one bar and replaced it with a bar from another bike.
Now I own an alarmed disc lock, I dont know whether it has stopped somebody from stealing my motorcycle or not but it does help with the feeling of security when I park it at night.