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Written by Nancy Irwin
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Wednesday, 25 April 2007 |
The Toronto motorcycle community lost another shop this past year, McBride Cycle, which had been in operation for 97 years. Founded by Percy McBride in 1909, the venerable dealership was a family business that had seemed to flourish until its demise in the summer of 2006. The store’s passing leaves some questions in its wake and, ultimately, raises a few fears regarding the direction of the motorcycle industry in Canada.
When Percy McBride first opened his doors nearly a century ago, his product lines included bicycles and sporting goods. But by 1914, he had added motorcycles to the store’s inventory, including Henderson, Ariel, BSA, and AJS. He expanded his offerings with the years to include Japanese- and German-built bikes. I bought my first BMW at McBride’s in 1987. That the store had become a historic institution over time was self-evident—the local section of the Canadian Vintage Motorcycle Group used to hold monthly meetings there.
But the nature of the global economy in the new millennium has forced changes to corporate philosophies. That hasn’t been good news for Mom and Pop operations, which includes even iconic outfits like McBride’s.
WHEN BMW DOWNSIZED ITS CANADIAN DEALER NETWORK IN 1998, McBride Cycle was one of the affected stores. At that time there was a big brouhaha because BMW riders suddenly had nowhere in the Greater Toronto Area to go for parts or service. A call to BMW Canada at the time confirmed that the distributor was on the hunt for someone to open an exclusive store in Toronto but had not yet been successful in that pursuit. So, for the time being, BMW enthusiasts would have to go to Woodbridge to find their closest dealer, or to Oakville, located approximately an hour’s ride from downtown—a bit far when you’re broken down, and it’s well outside the city’s public transit service.
At the time I was shocked and felt hung out to dry, which was not what I had expected from BMW. I was under the impression that Toronto was large enough to warrant a place where we could buy parts and get our bikes serviced locally.
Somehow though, McBride Cycle reacquired its status as an official BMW dealer and would no longer have to order parts for its loyal customers through another shop, which staffers did in those “difficult” years. I remember there was a court case and that after things were resolved everyone was silent, as though nothing had ever happened. This, I’m sure, was a term of the agreement.
And now I’ve learned that Honda will also terminate agreements with dealerships across the country and move toward single-line stores with a uniform look, the preferred corporate marketing model for both BMW and Harley-Davidson. It’s the way of the world, the new order, and it seems there is no loyalty to the old shops who kept the bikes of various manufacturers running and kept the necessary parts on hand for faithful customers.
As the Old Guard, the McBride Cycles, die out so does the memory that this type of store ever made any contribution at all to motorcycling history. In the dogged pursuit of brand marketing, giant corporate entities such as Harley-Davidson have forced smaller enterprises to either change their names or close their doors. The new rules and the new school of thought is one-marque shopping, where every store looks exactly alike.
Did all this have anything to do with the closing of McBride Cycle, sent into receivership after 97 years? Could it have been that the younger generation went to school to learn business management and implemented ideas that were applicable only in a classroom? Could it have been the potential loss of Honda? I’m sure that losing BMW sales for those years came at a price. Or was it the hardship that many dealers have found trying to sell motorcycles in a province where insurance rates can equal purchase prices? It seems insurance has now become nearly impossible to obtain for many sport-oriented machines, and if you can’t insure a motor vehicle, why buy it? And now I’ve learned that most companies won’t write policies either for models older than a quarter-century. Soon, that will include mine too.
I MOURN THE LOSS OF A STORE THAT FOR SO LONG HAD BEEN AN integral part of the motorcycle community and its closure brings to mind the memory of yet another shop that went down not so long ago, Ontario Honda. Owner Murray Brown was in it for 30 years, but after his business partner and best friend Ricky Andrews died he lost interest. He retired the business, sold the building and made his fortune there.
My female riding group, the Toronto Amazons, took their bikes to Ontario Honda back in the days when women were treated like second-class citizens at most shops, but were routinely treated as equals whenever they entered the doors of that Queen St. East shop. I first walked into Ontario Honda in the early 1980s but only popped in on occasion to browse because I rode British in those days and dealt either with Firth’s on the Danforth, with British Cycle Supply out in Nova Scotia or with the various local enthusiasts who bought and traded parts. I also dealt directly with England, but my friends went to Ontario Honda.
And now when I hear of someone looking for a place to service their Japanese motorcycle, I tell them 109 Cycle, which employs service manager Bill Tomlin, who for 25 years worked at Ontario Honda and mechanic Peter Volk, another ex-Ontario Honda staffer. They operate out of a commercial bay in Scarborough and the business has now become “The Place” to go for my riding circle. I’ve personally taken two of my Honda Rebel-riding female friends there. They also have a small but faithful following left over from the Ontario Honda days, and it’s not a dealership. So hopefully 109 Cycle won’t suffer like others who’ve had their dealer agreements pulled. And it only crosses my mind now that they don’t have a “won’t work on anything older than ten years” rule which can also really sting.
I’m concerned though. With at least two long-established dealers now gone, I’m wondering if this is the way of the new millennium, and if before long there will be nothing but homogeneous shops with virtually nothing to set one apart from the other. Is this just Toronto or will it be the way of the world?
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Issue #228 Meeting Chez Moi |
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Written by Nancy Irwin
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Thursday, 12 April 2007 |
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Okay, so I forgot, kind of. You see, the members of our nation-wide Canadian Vintage Motorcycle Group, the ones I’m the most connected to, are located in Ontario’s Port Dover area or, in CVMG terms, the “Olde Norfolk Section.” The chapter is approximately a two-hour ride from my home in Toronto, so it’s no surprise that I make it to few of the monthly meetings. When I do it always seems like a party—especially when they’re at Holly Garret’s house. She’s a great cook and always puts on a lovely spread.
The meetings are usually never at my place, but this year circumstances called for a change of venue for October so I volunteered mine. My fellow members and I emailed back and forth and they all agreed to come to my home, but privately I doubted that it would ever happen. People who live beyond its perimeters so often talk about Toronto as though it’s some sort of monster and that they can’t think of anything that would make them want to ride into the Big Smoke. This is why I never bothered to change the location on my calendar.
Imagine my surprise when Holly emailed to ask if she could bring anything to the meeting. Meeting? What meeting? Oh my goodness, the meeting’s really at my house? In two days? I’m certain my face took on that caricature stop-and-take-notice look—lips pursed, eyebrows arched, eyes expanded into frozen saucers—that you see so often in cartoons.Wings were the next items of discussion. Wings? Well, people come directly from work so they need to eat something. And here I thought food was served only at Holly’s. Wings? I got that same cartoon look. Wings come with all sorts of little bones. Yipes! The last thing this vegetarian wanted was her fingers coated in the grease of slippery slimy chicken bones. Steak on a bun I replied. Yes. Steak. Everyone (but me) loves steak. Steak can be cooked by someone outside on the barbecue. The buns meant I wouldn’t need a dozen or more steak knives. Everyone would be happy, including my neighbourhood butcher, who is also a biker and operates a family-run shop with his brother as partner. It’s my understanding that Strickland’s is one of the better butchers in the city and, just my luck, instead of the best health food store I have the best butcher nearby.
Let me tell you though, that butcher has made my summers sweet. But, instead of the 50 steaks I ordered for my last big barbecue or the two turkeys I bought for Thanksgiving, this time I asked for a mere 10 bun-sized steaks. And people tell me they wish all vegetarians were like me! Unlike one of my best friends who commented that for me to go to a butcher and place a big meat order was not unlike going to a drug dealer and telling that person I was buying for friends, not for myself. After a while people just stop believing. And so it was that the folks who attended the Meeting Chez Moi indulged in steak on a bun. Holly brought crudite (veggies and dip) and a bottle of Norton wine, which was very good indeed. I topped that off with a larger bottle of red that I brought up from the cave, and we finally got the meeting to order. And what order it was.END OF SEASON TALK BEGAN ON THE SUBJECT OF coming bike shows and who was going to put what into which exhibit and which hosts were at least offering free parking in exchange for the vintage bike displays. I had left a copy of a rather interesting “Toolbox” calendar on the table and my section members, being a bit less rigid than some others, considered the idea of selling them as a fundraiser.
To see what I mean, visit www.capstudios.com/calendar.html. I won’t say which one I am! Another topic on the agenda was the buy and sell department of the CVMG monthly newsletter. I pointed out that I’m still looking for a pair of dirt bikes (one for me, one for a friend), preferably 250cc, four-stroke, street-legal machines. Someone asked if they needed to be colour co-ordinated. They don’t, but I do believe that little exchange will be in the newsletter notes next month.The point of all this, what do bikers do in the winter when the weather’s just too frigid and the roads too messy to ride? We socialize. Women gossip, men talk. It’s really all the same. But if the meeting is at my place, women uncork the wine and men barbecue in the cold. Everyone reads motorcycle magazines, pointing out the reasons why this or that publication was brought to the meeting. It’s winter, damn it. No camping, no rides to the lake. You could ride on the lake I suppose, but that’s another story best told by someone who’s into ice racing. As for myself, I take the warm days when I can and fantasize about next year.
The next meeting will again be at Holly’s house. That’s great because, among other things, she makes a wicked vegetarian chilli filled with honkin’ huge cashews. I can’t help but notice that the Real Men (and our section is full of them) have seconds—even though there’s always plenty of meat on the table. And not too long after the meeting at Holly’s it will be time again for the CVMG Grinch Christmas Party. The idea here is that each guest brings a wrapped Christmas gift to exchange. Guests then draw a number out of a helmet. Whoever goes first gets to choose and open one of the gifts. Guest number two then has the option of “stealing” that gift or selecting and opening another package. As the play goes on, players who have the higher numbers will be able to select from any of the opened gifts or a new one altogether. Perhaps this year I’ll end up wanting something no one else does. And with luck, winter will end once again, to be replaced by the other three seasons: Spring Riding, Summer Riding and Autumn Riding (not to be mislabeled as fall.)Here’s wishing everyone a joyfully short winter.
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