The Tale of Two Bikes

I must begin this way. Last week I had a bike. I no longer have my bike. My bike was a birthday present from Faith a few years back. Front and rear suspension, a sturdy frame, grip shifters, and it was the envy of several a neighbourhood kid. It may not have had the greatest name brand in the world, but it was a good bike. A loved bike. One I called my own and rode with pride.

Last week I left it at the library one day to drive Faith and the kids home from lunch at the school. I considered walking back to ride the bike home after lunch, but I knew I needed to pick up Micah later and the van was more convenient in the cold snap we've had. So, the next morning when I went to grab my bike from the stall I had parked it in, it was gone. This is the second time this has happened to me here in Caronport. (You'd think that I should invest in a bike lock or something of that nature after the first incident but "no, why would somebody at a Christian College and High School do something like that?").

The next day I spotted my bike from the windows of the library. Just then, my family began walking toward the school to pick me up again, so I packed up my things and tried to meet them part-way and rescue my poor stolen bike. By the time we exited the building, it had again vanished into the cold, thin air. Drat!

After that, the bike disappeared for an entire week. That is, until Micah spied it on his way home yesterday. This morning I went to verify that this "bike across from the house with the three wisemen" near the school was indeed my bike. I pulled it from the snowbank that had hidden it from view and looked for the "love" marks all over it. Sure enough, it was my bike. However, it was in no condition to ride. The chain jammed in a few places, one of the rear sprokets was damaged and another one completely absent, and the rim was bent more than it used to be on the rear wheel.

I told my tale to a friend at the school who suggested we take the bike in to get it looked at and repaired. I informed him that it was possibly not worth repairing, but he offered me and a few other friends pizza so my bike and I hopped into his van and went. (By the way, I couldn't drive to Moose Jaw myself because my van is in the shop getting the power-steering fixed. I borrowed someone else's van last night to help with the Jr.High Youth Group at the Alliance Church we are attending). He had to bring his bike in for its yearly maintenance at Boh's Cycle anyway, which was free for life. He had won his bike along with lifetime warranty and maintenance.

Boh told me the approximate damage to my pocketbook might as well be put into buying a new bike. I mean, what's a bill of $150.00 compared to buying a 'premium' bike starting at $369.00? That was his salespitch, anyway. My buddy convinced me to get it fixed anyway. Just before I handed my Huffy over to the repair dude, the salesclerk came over with a man from the bicycle recycling program. He just happened to be there to pick up some bikes. She said he could probably get me a comparable mountainbike and trade me straight across for mine.

$150.00s worth of repairs, or free bike? Hmmm. Even if the bike didn't have the bells and whistles mine did, I don't have the extra cash sitting around and this will do me for the rest of the year.

So we all hopped back into the van to go to a little garage in the industrial section of town. He invited me in to look for this "Supercycle" he had just received and was willing to trade me for. We looked for about 10 minutes while the dust settled and our eyes adjusted to the dim light. We moved bikes around a bit, looking here and there, and then I lifted it out of the pile. I had to ask him, "Is this the bike you were referring to?" Sure enough, it was the one. I couldn't believe my eyes...

The police had turned over this stolen bike that no-one had claimed. The bike lock was still on the bike because it wasn't in use when the bike was taken from its owner. He said it was mine and called it his "good deed for the day". I guess the bikes typically go to new immigrants and low-income families like my own, and he repairs them.

Well, it has the same suspension, same grip shifts, same everything as my old bike, only it is virtually brand-new, has a different brand-name, and is red like Micah's. You can even smell the new rubber on it. The knobbies on the tires are still all there. I doubt the owner got a chance to ride it much. There were only a few "love" marks on the thing. None of us could believe how generous this man had been. So, we went and celebrated at Pizza Hut's lunch buffet. We brought the bike back to Bill's place and he cut the old lock off of the bike. (Who needs a lock in Caronport anyway?).

- Mark