It was March 2002. Bike Week at Daytona Beach was approaching. For months, Walter and I had planned our trip there and decided we'd leave Friday. It was Thursday, so we took off work to run around town buying kryptonite chains and tools to rig my father's 6x8 trailer to hold both our bikes safely. Rigging the trailer was no easy task, but after four hours of bolts, drilling, screws, and an abundance of curse words, the d*&m trailer was ready.
At night fall we hauled the trailer from my father's house to my condo complex in McLean, Virginia. Mclean is one of the finest neighborhoods in Virginia -lots of taxes, lots of cops - so a safe place to load up the bikes until we left Friday morning.
Walter and I both had black and silver 2001 GSXR 1000's we were in love with. As bikers, you know: it's a love your girlfriend (as fabulous even as mine is) can't compete with, and you don't encourage her to try. We loaded the bikes up via ramp on to the trailer (as midnight approached) and parted.
I woke again at 3:30 am, grabbed my suitcase and hopped on the elevator for the garage. Walter would be here soon. The SUV and trailer was parked caddy corner - hitched for turn-key Operation Daytona. When I saw my yellow Nissan Xterra - and ONLY my Nissan Xterra, I thought delirium had set in from so much preparation and so little sleep. No. A safe neighborhood, gated community, pass coded garage, kryptonite chains, master lock on the tongue of the trailer and yet our bikes were GONE.
Within THREE hours thieves had taken our prized possessions, our passion, and our trip from us. Imagine how I felt making the phone call to Walter.
Fairfax County police came, apparently only as a courtesy "Yep, we get a ton of bike thefts the week before Bike Week - not much we can do, they get the bikes to the chop shops faster than we can even get here." An hour of useless paperwork later, Walter was here and crying like a baby (OK, so was I).
The police had attempted to comfort me by repeating that insurance would cover the theft. Indeed, they would cover the blue book retail value (are you kidding me?) of the bike, but not the cost of a new replacement. Further, my GSXR 1000 had been an art project - my master piece. MIG exhaust, steel braided brake lines, racing brake pads, steering stabilizer and all the fixin's of a racing bike I had toiled to install - none of this would be covered by insurance. Not to mention, the Bike Week trip that was out the window.
As for Walter, poor Walter hadn't insured his bike yet. His bike was gone all together.
Months after filing, my insurance gave me the blue book of the GSXR. A month later, they increased my policy from $300.00 every 6 months to $2,000.00 every 6 months ($4,000.00 a year).
A few months later, I moved in to a new condo. I was appalled with the other complex when I determined that the camera in my "safe" garage had not been working at the time of the theft - or months before. In my new condo, next to my King sized bed, now resided my girlfriend and my new Honda CBR 900RR. I had 2 BIKES IN 2 YEARS stolen from me at this point, I would now sleep with them. I'M NOT KIDDING.
My mission for the ultimate protection of one's motorcycle began - and Cycle Protect was created. I conspired with fellow bikers going over every alarm and GPS system in the country and how crooks were smarter somehow than those products. I had an idea now, and interviewed engineers to assist me in seeing it through. (See CYCLE PROTECT FEATURES for more on our amazing GPS & Alarm system.)
