This time last year, I was seriously contemplating selling my Vespa. It had become a mechanical nightmare, refusing to start up, stalling in traffic and generally being a pain in the ass. I’d taken it back to the dealer I bought it from several times and, each time, it was returned “good as new,” only to break down again a few rides later. It got to the point that I didn’t even want to look at it. I had come to the painful conclusion that I’d made a terrible mistake trying to get back on two motorized wheels after owning a motorcycle many years earlier.
I made one last attempt to fix it, taking it to another dealership. That dealership, Gold Coast Motorsports, and its excellent mechanic replaced the ignition system and the scoot has run perfectly ever since. Not a single problem. It went from being a source of massive heartache to my escape device; a pure joy to ride. Yesterday, I rode into the city to scope out Fleet Week. The ride encompassed highways, bumpy city streets, a couple of passes on a bridge, and even some tight maneuvering in traffic. The scoot performed flawlessly.
And that got me thinking. It seems that the distinguishing characteristic that defines my more recent motoring experiences from those a year ago is: reliability. The machine runs properly. I can count on it to work when I need it. I don’t have to wonder if it’s going to start or stall. By finding the right mechanic, I was able to make the scooter reliable and, as such, it is a joy to get on it and ride, to escape the everyday responsibilities and bothers even for just a few minutes during the commute home.
Reliability can either make or break an experience. We should always strive to be reliable, and search for reliability in the things we use and people we deal with.