Waterproof apparently means “will take a bit longer before you get wet” maybe the Gortex slogan should be amended, “Guaranteed to keep you dry, a while”, because none of our Gortex gloves kept our hands dry during the continuous rain of first days of our trip, nor on any of the later days. Neither did my waterproof phone survive the rain or did my tank bag manage to keep its content dry. The gloves dried out in the end, as did the tank bag, the laptop in it still has some small keyboard issues but is mostly usable, hopefully no border officials will make too much of a fuss over the slightly water-wrinkled passports and luckily I brought a second phone, because the first one is done.
Warranty, a word to make you feel you are making the right choice, warm and fuzzy. But it’s worth less then cow dung. Warranty is nice if you stay close to the place you purchased from and if you can deal with not having whatever it is you bought for a while. But even if I could convince the store I bought the ‘waterproof’ phone from that it got wet inside and that it’s not my fault (or is riding through constant rain for 6 hours straight at over 100km/h not what they meant?) even then, I was almost in Istanbul it became an issue. Try convincing a Dutch phone store to overnight ship a replacement halfway across the world, at their own cost, no-way.
Then there is the case of the battery eating communications remote-control, it’s like me with dinner, it’ll run fine on a battery for a day, but it will need another the next day. Sena, the manufacturer just refused to help, it was up to me to start calling all the distributors and stores myself looking for a solution.
I don’t need warranty, keep your warranty… just give me a thing that works!
And when things do fail give me some tools, a bit of string and a paperclip! Then the tinker in me, the MacGiver wannabe, stands up. I tear open my shirt and reveal my hidden alter ego, MegaFixer, MF for short, nice to meet you.
Back in Istanbul I was done calling every Sena dealer in the world, seeing if they could replace my broken remote. Armed with an old bank card, a by now empty battery for the remote, a coke can some tape, an USB cable and some Sugru, I set to work. The result, a permanent power supply for my remote, I’m now almost 10.000km down the road and it’s still working fine!
Way later then I should have, I converted empty 5L engine oil canister to covers for our hand guards. The difference is enormous, no longer do our hands get wet in the rain or cold in the wind.
One day in Uzbekistan, the runner of zipper on my jacket broke. While Pepijn was inside a small shop getting some food for us, a bit of thick metal wire and some tape solved that problem. Ok, it might not be the best-looking fix ever, but Pepijn likes to call this look ‘bad-ass’.
The most recent addition to the list of small fixes is the break-leaver-extender, made from a thick nail and some hose clamps.
I hate it when things break, failing technology, dumb design, it gets to me, like a personal affront. But I love fixing things maybe even more…