Trial By Dmv

TRIAL BY DMV

Running California’s kit-bike registration gauntlet

No, I didn’t forget. Neither did I change my mind. In the “Bike in the Box” feature that appeared in Cycle World what, 300 years ago? (actually, the May, 2006, issue), I asked you to “stay tuned" for a test of the completed V Bike. Well, by now, your “tuner" is probably in need of a rebuild after idling for such a long time.

That deiay was not intentional. As I neared the end of the kit-bike build, I borrowed a dealer plate from the V Bike’s owners,

Custom Chrome Inc., so we could legally ride the machine for breakin and testing. Just as I was wrapping up the break-in phase, the plate’s registration expired, so I called CCI to arrange a renewal sticker. “We’ll get back to you” was the reply.

After hearing nothing from them for weeks on end,

I called again and was given a surprising piece of information: CCI had been bought by a large investment firm, and the new owners had

forbidden anyone other than full-time employees to ride companyowned motorcycles. Interpretation: no new registration sticker.

Cycle World does not qualify for dealer or distributor plates, and we are reluctant to send staffers out on the road aboard unregistered motorcycles. Our only option, if we were to in fact test the V Bike, would be to buy the bike, register it in the magazine’s name and get a regular license plate.

So we did...eventually.

If you’ve never attempted to register any kind of custom or one-off motorcycle in California, you’re missing one of life’s great adventures. It’s kind of like going on a treasure hunt in Rhode Island when the treasure is actually buried in, say, Long Island.

In California, kit bikes have to be registered as “specialty construction” vehicles-a Golden State DMV euphemism for being forced to jump through more hoops than one of Siegfried and Roy’s tigers. First, I spent hours standing in line and filling out forms at the local DMV, then was told to truck the bike to that same office to have it inspected. When I complied a few days later, the inspector checked off some boxes on a form and said I had to take the bike to an Official Brake and Light Inspection Station to have...the brakes and lights inspected. Like he couldn’t do that?

I hauled the bike to the nearest such station where I was informed that they only do inspections on cars, not motorcycles.

I called three others listed in the Yellow Pages and was told the same thing. When I asked the owner of that fourth location-who’d told me he was a rider—where I could find an Official Motorcycle Brake and Light Inspection Station, I was blown away by his reply: “There are no such places. They don’t exist.”

What?! I happened to mention this absurd state of affairs to Bruce Fischer, occasional CW contributor and owner of Accu-True, a Harley repair shop down the street from our offices. “I know all about that silliness,” he said, “but don’t worry; just bring the bike to my shop and I’ll write a work order that says the brakes and lights comply with the state’s vehicle code. Give that to the DMV and they won’t bat an eye."

He was correct: They accepted it without hesitation. I was then told to take the bike to a California Highway Patrol office and have it inspected. “What are they going to inspect that hasn’t already been inspected— twice?" I asked.

“Don’t argue,” was the clerk’s terse rejoinder. “If you want to get your motorcycle registered, just do it."

Oh.

You can’t just roll up to a CHP office for one of these inspections; you have to make an appointment. When I called the nearest CHP location, I was told they don’t do those kinds of inspections; I’d have to try another branch, but they couldn’t tell me which one. After two more unsuccessful calls, I found a CHP office that could do the required inspection. “How about four weeks from yesterday?” said the officer.

“That’s the soonest I can have this done?” I asked.

“Yep. I’m booked full until then.”

Having little choice, I agreed.

Two days before that appointment, I got a call from the same officer. “I’ve got to reschedule,” he said. “I’ve been put on special assignment. Can we do it the week after next?”

Once again, no choice. “Okay.”

Thirteen days later, I pulled up to the CHP office with the V Bike in the back of the CW pickup and handed the officer the paperwork. He perused the documents, walked over to the truck, stared briefly at the right side of the bike and then the left, scribbled his John Hancock on one of the forms and handed the papers back to me. “All done," he said and walked back into the building.

That was it? I waited six weeks for an “inspection” that was barely a passing glance? Is this a great state or what?

It was back to the DMV again to turn in all the paperwork. The clerk checked it over, then handed me a small document. “This is your temporary registration,” she said. “Tape it to the lower right corner of the windshield. Your plate will arrive in a few weeks.”

I thought it best not to point out that the bike had no windshield;

I didn’t want to get sent to an Officiai Motorcycle-Without-AWindshield Inspection Station. I just smiled, said “Thank you" and breathed a sigh of relief; I had found the pot of gold at the end of the registration rainbow. And I could finally live up to my promise to put what I had built to the test. Paul Dean