More posts about ongoing “project daily driver” are here:
Guy at the desk: “We don’t see a lot of these antiques.”
Me: “Antique?!? Da fuq?”
I took my ATV to the shop for basic repair as part of “project daily driver”. I don’t think of it as an “antique”. I think of it as “completely paid off / fully depreciated”. It’s old and unreliable but still a handy workhorse. It’s a 325 CC Polaris. It’ll haul my fat ass without complaining so it’s plenty useable. It was the biggest baddest thing of its era but time has caught up (and blown past) it. It’s hopelessly slow compared to the amazingly powerful monstrosities of modern times. I don’t care, it’s still a great little machine.
I was still smarting from the front desk calling it an antique when I met the mechanic. If there are people with fewer fucks to give, I haven’t met them. This mechanic just plain gave not one shit about anything.
The guy at the front desk had written down all my specific issues to get it from “wouldn’t start all winter” to “daily driver to trail ride solo in the mountains right now”. It’s not much. It’s an ok machine, just wore out a bit.
Me: “Here’s the list from the front desk.”
Mechanic: Grunt. Takes the list and tosses it, without looking, on one of a dozen toolboxes and heaps of parts scattered all over the workshop.
Mechanic: Waving at the ATV on my trailer. “Drop it right there.”
Me: “Ok, the battery is shot so I’ll have to jump it with this battery pack.”
Mechanic: Grunt. He pops it into neutral, gives it a shove, and sends it rolling down the trailer ramp. It’s headed in a random direction. It rolls dangerously close to some other ATVs but stops with a few inches to spare.
Me: “Well that’s one way to do it.”
Mechanic: “Whatever.”
The mechanic never made eye contact. He spoke very few words and even his grunts were half hearted. He was as friendly as a kick in the head; as engaged as a zombie on Quaaludes.
The ATV wound up “parked” randomly in a dirt patch. It was now in a “herd” with a dozen other randomly positioned ATVs, all of which look newer and more expensive than mine. The dirt patch was circled by an asteroid belt of dead and dismembered ATVs. If your ATV is in the inner circle it may drive away, if it’s in the outer circle it’s “parts”. I shuddered.
I drove away wondering if I’d ever see it again.
ATVs are super cool but they amaze and frustrate me by getting a little too sophisticated and therefore ridiculously expensive. They’re too close in price to a used 4×4 “farm quality” jeep for me to have one. The last time I got close to buying an ATV I literally had nightmares over the thought of financing. I completely abandoned the idea.
My failed attempt to buy an ATV happened a few years ago. First, I test drove an Argo (nicknamed Battle Duck). The Argo was too much fun! I wound up chased out of some guy’s ditch. (Battle Duck’s story is here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.) I’d love an Argo but I’d probably be arrested in a week if I owned one. After the Argo I test drove everything in sight. (The story is The Mr. Bean ATV Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7.) I wound up with a Yamaha TW200 dirtbike and have been very happy.
The image below is my vision of financing an ATV. It’s what I see any time I sign any payment plan. (It’s from Mr. Bean ATV part 6.)
Don’t get me wrong. I’d love a new ATV. I’m just too cheap. (On the other hand, I’ve done pretty well with a dirt bike that costs 1/2 to 1/3 the scratch to buy an ATV; so that’s something.)
I did wind up with a used ATV through inheritance. I’m incredibly grateful to have it. Given my attitude about finances it’s literally irreplaceable. I’ll have to keep it running until the end of time. It’s a bit old (apparently an antique!) and it’s too unreliable for trail riding. (I ride solo in the middle of nowhere.) But I use the hell out of it for hauling firewood and homestead chores (which is why ATVs were originally made!). I work it hard and it makes sense to keep it in useable form.
Last year a friend wanted to go trail riding. In a fit of brilliance I spiffed up the old ATV, parked him on the saddle, and led the way on my dirtbike. It was a strange arrangement but we had fun.
The ATV had a weak battery. I was a bit low on funds so I didn’t replace the battery. Luckily, my dirtbike never goes anywhere without my Noco Boost Sport GB20 battery pack. (I get a kickback from Amazon if you buy shit from that link.) (The “charger” fits perfectly in my bike’s “kit” and it can jump the ATV without breaking a sweat.) It’s not the same as replacing the battery but it was good enough for the moment.
Note, the ATV has a super cool rope pull start. How awesome is that? Unfortunately, it never runs well enough to start before my arm gives out. I need electric start to use it.
Then the poor thing was abandoned. All summer long I was trail riding on my dirt bike. The ATV just didn’t float my boat like the shiny new Yamaha. Then I leaned more on my tractor for firewood than the ATV. I didn’t always have a good tractor but now I do and the front bucket is just too handy to ignore. For various reasons the ATV wasn’t needed during hunting season.
By Christmas it was froze, dead, and lonely in the woodshed.
Last weekend I tried mightily to start it. The battery pack turned it over but no luck on starting. I tried to “resurrect” the battery with my fancy charger but that didn’t happen either.
I assumed the gas was bad. If it’s not stabilized, modern gas has a lifespan like mayonnaise. As a treat to myself I bought a siphon with a hand pump… no more mouthfuls of gas for me! The siphon sucked. I’d be better off with a few feet of tubing. What man hasn’t gotten an occasional bit of unleaded mouthwash?
I siphoned it out but I had no fresh gas on hand. As an experiment I used some from my 1 gallon dirt bike rotopax. Non-oxygenated with Sta-bil refilled maybe in Sept or Oct last year. She fired up well.
So that’s how I got it running enough to get it on a trailer and haul it to a place where she’s been insulted as an “antique” and kicked into ATV repair purgatory.
More “daily driver” tasks will ensue. Wish me luck.