I’m beat. Worn down.
I’ve done less than 3 miles so far today. Yes, you read that right. 3 miles.
The Harley dealer here in New Hampshire had my bike. ALL. DAY. I was able to load up and leave literally as they locked the doors behind me at 6pm.
Typically Harley dealers put a priority on traveling customers. Not these guys. They had a queue to get through and they weren’t inclined to bump me to the front of the line. I was surprisingly patient which is not my strong suit.
I hung out in my hotel room this morning after breakfast until the last possible moment. I went down to the lobby and checked out right at 11. I then booked an uber over to the dealer. It took 4 tries to get an uber. I guess there aren’t many drivers in the late morning.
I finally made it over and just quietly sat down in the “lounge”. I don’t typically spend time in HD dealer lounges but I do notice them as I browse. This one barely passed muster. The only one worse that I’ve seen is at my home dealer of Zion HD. I’d normally skip over this detail but I spent an inordinate amount of time there so it’s worth noting.
After an hour I checked for some restaurants near me and just my luck, nothing. There was a movie theater though. I asked one of the guys who worked there if someone could give me a ride. That was a big negative. I spend less money servicing my cars and they ALWAYS have shuttles. Was I asking too much? He just pointed in the general direction of the theater and said I could walk. Ok then. Walk I did. Two and a half hours later I walked back over. It’s now about 3pm. I check on my bike. What bike? Ok, so it wasnt that bad. I wasn’t showing up in their system and they finally had to call the guy over who put it in. Oh, that bike. We’ll get right on it. In about 30 minutes. 40 minutes later the service manager comes out to call me back. She shows me the back tire. There’s a two inch gash right down the center. And they can’t warranty it because it’s at 2.5/32 of tread depth and the warranty only covers tires with 3/32 or more. Are you kidding me? She calls Woodstock HD to see if they did a tread depth measurement before they sent me on my way. Who? What bike? They had NO record of me and the retard who looked at my bike didn’t remember me. I’m taking deep, slow breaths at this point. The manager says she’ll call HD and go to bat for me. An hour later she comes to tell me that they’ll warranty the back but not the front. They can’t find the damage. Fine. Put a new one in anyway. An hour later it’s done. They gave me a military discount and worked a deal so it actually came out much cheaper than expected. Sweet. Finally something went right. I go outside to load up my bike and see that they didn’t wash it. That’s a good final touch that almost all dealers do. I’d actually overheard them telling another customer that they were just about done, it just needed to be washed first. Once again, maybe it’s my face.
I’m torn. They went to bat for me and my service was cheaper than expected. But seriously the worst service ever.
Does that make it ok?
For some reason I feel pretty comatose about the whole thing.
I guess that’s a good thing. It could be much worse.
I’m starving. I had a tiny breakfast and a small bucket of popcorn at the movie. I guess not moving from a chair all day doesn’t really burn calories.
I never found a good place for Philly Cheesesteak sandwiches while in Philly so I’m rectifying that right now.
Next I’ll try to find a camping area. I’m changing my route again. New Hampshire needs more attention. People keep telling me about Mt. Washington and the roads nearby. I’ve decided to give them a shot. It’ll add a day or so to my trip. Which seems endless at this point.
Especially on days I don’t get anywhere.