kfergos
07-10-2009, 08:13 AM
Yesterday I flew in to Seattle from Boston for the STP. My bike arrived at the house via FedEx five minutes before I did, and it looked mostly undamaged. Further investigation revealed a shattered carbon fiber water bottle holder :( but no other damage aside from a valve failure on the rear wheel when I put air in. I put the bike together fairly quickly and took it to Bothell Bike & Ski to have them look it over so it didn't fall apart under me somewhere along the ride.
When I got there, I told them, "Could you check the brakes and get them to not rub?" because I have disc brakes and can never take a wheel off and then put it on again without it rubbing horrendously. I also said I'd wait around, because I wanted to ride a bit today to stretch out the 7-hour plane flight kinks. They said OK, it would take about 20 minutes.
It took an hour and a half. The kid (who can't have been out of high school) who started working on my bike took one look at the brake pads and freaked out. He told me to replace them immediately; they were "all corroded and worn down." I'm thinking "Huh; my LBS back in MA seemed OK with my brakes when I left, and I was happy with the braking power. They seemed fine." But it had been at least 3,000 miles and probably way more than that since I replaced the pads, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to replace them.
He did that, but also did all sorts of stuff to the brake mechanism that I'd never seen my normal mechanic doing. Then when he put the brake back on the bike, he spent probably 30 minutes fiddling around, muttering and swearing and spinning the wheel and hearing it squeak and rub. Eventually a more experienced mechanic came over and started fiddling with the brake.
Meanwhile, I'm standing there waiting, listening to the other mechanics -- there were about 5 guys, none above about 25 years old, there working on bikes -- talking about times they'd been pulled over by cops. Clearly they'd been pulled over any number of times, many of them by the same cop. One kid in particular was talking about how the cop had given him two warnings about the loudness of the exhaust system, but that he (the kid) didn't intend to make it quieter: "I spent a lot of money getting it to be that loud!"
So I'm standing around, listening to this conversation, and cringing as these two mechanics start reefing on the rotor of my rear break because it's not straight. I'm thinking, "It was bent when I left, but before I still could break fine and it didn't rub, so what's the problem? Why does it need yanking on now?" And of course I'm remembering that you're not supposed to touch the rotor and get hand grease on it, which is exactly what they're doing. Then the younger one asks, "Where's the cable cutter?" and immediately I wonder why they need to cut my cables when, again, it was perfectly fine back in MA a week ago just the way it was.
Instead of continuing to listen to and watch this, I wandered into the back room where they keep all the bikes they're working on. The door was open, and I could see the parking lot out there, and I figured I'd go look for the car with the exhaust system. That was kind of boring, though -- there's only so long I can look at pimped out guy cars -- so I went back in through the storage room.
That's when I saw the bike porn poster. It was a mostly naked lady with a wet, white clinging shirt on; she had no pants on but was holding a suspension fork upside down so it covered her nipples and crotch; some liquid was portrayed flowing over her and of course she had some kind of rapturous/come-hither look on her face. I spent a long time looking at it in shock: What kind of retail business would put that kind of trash up where customers might see it? This was a back room, but it wasn't closed off and I could easily see customers retrieving their bikes from there, for example. They don't, as far as I could tell, have any women employees, so I don't think it's a legal issue. But I found it revolting that they put a poster like that up at all, and even if their wrenching had been fabulous (which it patently was NOT), I wouldn't go back there again.
Back in the store, I spent some time trying to decide what to say about their poster, if I should say anything, and who I would say it to. At that point they finally seemed done with my bike, took it off the rack, and handed it to me. I pulled the brake levers experimentally and the front brake lever pulled all the way to the handlebar. I said, "Could you tighten this up? This is crazy," and the mechanic said, "Well, we can't tighten it up much more..." but put it back on the stand. He fiddled around with the dials on the brakes some, and then he started reefing on that rotor, too, because he claimed it wasn't straight. Then, to my horror, he took out a file and started FILING THE ROTOR. :eek::eek::eek: I don't claim to know anything about bike mechanic work, and I let my LBS do everything for me, including replacing my chain, so I deferred to the guys at Bothell Bike & Ski the way I do to my LBS mechanic. I think that was a big mistake.
Eventually they finished and it ended up costing almost $80 (including a new cheap water bottle holder) on top of the $150 I spent to ship the darn bike out here. I rode away with huge relief and only a mile later realized that they had taken the water bottle off my bike when they put it in the stand, but they'd never put it back in. So I didn't have my water bottle, and since I was meeting somebody, I didn't want to spend the time to go back and retrieve it right then. I called the shop when I got home after my ride and sure enough, my water bottle was still there.
I'm seething inside from this experience, for several reasons.
1. They were inept. The kid who worked on my bike first took the rear break apart, but then left out a piece when he put it back together. They only realized it because they couldn't get the brake to stop rubbing, and the more experienced mechanic took the break apart AGAIN. A simple 20-minute stop ended up taking almost 5x that long. Messing with things that weren't broken and not giving me my water bottle did not inspire confidence or customer satisfaction.
2. They were profane and immature. Tons of swearing from the mechanics and their stories about being pulled over and talk about their overly tricked out cars for an hour and a half left me feeling fairly negative. I know they're mostly guys in their 20s, but they're at WORK. Even if work's cleaning and repairing bikes, shouldn't they have some level of professionalism?
3. They had soft porn on the back wall. That is just the last straw for me. I loathe porn -- what woman wouldn't? -- and seeing it at a bike shop like that, with the model holding a bike part, just made me sick and angry inside. :mad:
More constructively, can any of you PNW ladies recommend a GOOD bike shop for next time I'm in town? There's no way I'm going back to Bothell Bike & Ski after I get my water bottle back, but I will probably need bike servicing at some point out here.
In summary: GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. :mad::eek::mad:
Edit to add: I had actually called ahead and had an appointment. My mom recommended the shop and specifically told me to see Donnie, who she feels is a trustworthy mechanic. Donnie wasn't there, so perhaps that's part of the reason I didn't have as good of an experience as she has had in the past.
When I got there, I told them, "Could you check the brakes and get them to not rub?" because I have disc brakes and can never take a wheel off and then put it on again without it rubbing horrendously. I also said I'd wait around, because I wanted to ride a bit today to stretch out the 7-hour plane flight kinks. They said OK, it would take about 20 minutes.
It took an hour and a half. The kid (who can't have been out of high school) who started working on my bike took one look at the brake pads and freaked out. He told me to replace them immediately; they were "all corroded and worn down." I'm thinking "Huh; my LBS back in MA seemed OK with my brakes when I left, and I was happy with the braking power. They seemed fine." But it had been at least 3,000 miles and probably way more than that since I replaced the pads, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to replace them.
He did that, but also did all sorts of stuff to the brake mechanism that I'd never seen my normal mechanic doing. Then when he put the brake back on the bike, he spent probably 30 minutes fiddling around, muttering and swearing and spinning the wheel and hearing it squeak and rub. Eventually a more experienced mechanic came over and started fiddling with the brake.
Meanwhile, I'm standing there waiting, listening to the other mechanics -- there were about 5 guys, none above about 25 years old, there working on bikes -- talking about times they'd been pulled over by cops. Clearly they'd been pulled over any number of times, many of them by the same cop. One kid in particular was talking about how the cop had given him two warnings about the loudness of the exhaust system, but that he (the kid) didn't intend to make it quieter: "I spent a lot of money getting it to be that loud!"
So I'm standing around, listening to this conversation, and cringing as these two mechanics start reefing on the rotor of my rear break because it's not straight. I'm thinking, "It was bent when I left, but before I still could break fine and it didn't rub, so what's the problem? Why does it need yanking on now?" And of course I'm remembering that you're not supposed to touch the rotor and get hand grease on it, which is exactly what they're doing. Then the younger one asks, "Where's the cable cutter?" and immediately I wonder why they need to cut my cables when, again, it was perfectly fine back in MA a week ago just the way it was.
Instead of continuing to listen to and watch this, I wandered into the back room where they keep all the bikes they're working on. The door was open, and I could see the parking lot out there, and I figured I'd go look for the car with the exhaust system. That was kind of boring, though -- there's only so long I can look at pimped out guy cars -- so I went back in through the storage room.
That's when I saw the bike porn poster. It was a mostly naked lady with a wet, white clinging shirt on; she had no pants on but was holding a suspension fork upside down so it covered her nipples and crotch; some liquid was portrayed flowing over her and of course she had some kind of rapturous/come-hither look on her face. I spent a long time looking at it in shock: What kind of retail business would put that kind of trash up where customers might see it? This was a back room, but it wasn't closed off and I could easily see customers retrieving their bikes from there, for example. They don't, as far as I could tell, have any women employees, so I don't think it's a legal issue. But I found it revolting that they put a poster like that up at all, and even if their wrenching had been fabulous (which it patently was NOT), I wouldn't go back there again.
Back in the store, I spent some time trying to decide what to say about their poster, if I should say anything, and who I would say it to. At that point they finally seemed done with my bike, took it off the rack, and handed it to me. I pulled the brake levers experimentally and the front brake lever pulled all the way to the handlebar. I said, "Could you tighten this up? This is crazy," and the mechanic said, "Well, we can't tighten it up much more..." but put it back on the stand. He fiddled around with the dials on the brakes some, and then he started reefing on that rotor, too, because he claimed it wasn't straight. Then, to my horror, he took out a file and started FILING THE ROTOR. :eek::eek::eek: I don't claim to know anything about bike mechanic work, and I let my LBS do everything for me, including replacing my chain, so I deferred to the guys at Bothell Bike & Ski the way I do to my LBS mechanic. I think that was a big mistake.
Eventually they finished and it ended up costing almost $80 (including a new cheap water bottle holder) on top of the $150 I spent to ship the darn bike out here. I rode away with huge relief and only a mile later realized that they had taken the water bottle off my bike when they put it in the stand, but they'd never put it back in. So I didn't have my water bottle, and since I was meeting somebody, I didn't want to spend the time to go back and retrieve it right then. I called the shop when I got home after my ride and sure enough, my water bottle was still there.
I'm seething inside from this experience, for several reasons.
1. They were inept. The kid who worked on my bike first took the rear break apart, but then left out a piece when he put it back together. They only realized it because they couldn't get the brake to stop rubbing, and the more experienced mechanic took the break apart AGAIN. A simple 20-minute stop ended up taking almost 5x that long. Messing with things that weren't broken and not giving me my water bottle did not inspire confidence or customer satisfaction.
2. They were profane and immature. Tons of swearing from the mechanics and their stories about being pulled over and talk about their overly tricked out cars for an hour and a half left me feeling fairly negative. I know they're mostly guys in their 20s, but they're at WORK. Even if work's cleaning and repairing bikes, shouldn't they have some level of professionalism?
3. They had soft porn on the back wall. That is just the last straw for me. I loathe porn -- what woman wouldn't? -- and seeing it at a bike shop like that, with the model holding a bike part, just made me sick and angry inside. :mad:
More constructively, can any of you PNW ladies recommend a GOOD bike shop for next time I'm in town? There's no way I'm going back to Bothell Bike & Ski after I get my water bottle back, but I will probably need bike servicing at some point out here.
In summary: GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. :mad::eek::mad:
Edit to add: I had actually called ahead and had an appointment. My mom recommended the shop and specifically told me to see Donnie, who she feels is a trustworthy mechanic. Donnie wasn't there, so perhaps that's part of the reason I didn't have as good of an experience as she has had in the past.