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Somebody stole my bike
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My beloved bike at Old La Honda and Skyline.
That's right. Yesterday (Friday) morning I locked my bike at the south end of the southbound platform of the Palo Alto Caltrain station. When I returned in the evening it was gone. If you have ever had your bike stolen, you know the feeling. I must have walked back and forth along that row of bike racks a dozen times. Were my eyes playing tricks on me? Did I lock it up somewhere else? Nope. Somebody stole my bike.
Like a dope, I had left a tempting target for the thief, even though I've blogged on the virtues of riding a bike that looks like crap. The bike itself wasn't much, but it was a gift from my family and I had ridden it pretty much every day since 2001, so I was more than a bit attached to it. For the record, it was a Specialized Expedition Elite, serial number CA0A1560, charcoal. I just had a new Deore drivetrain put in, so it ran like a dream, whether I was commuting to work, running to the store for a six-pack, checking out Critical Mass, riding up to Ridge to buy a friend a bottle of wine, or just making my weekly trek through the Arastradero Preserve and Portola Valley to Skyline, with a return via Woodside for coffee. I had also taken that bike on a couple of longer trips, one from Palo Alto to San Simeon, another from Fort Bragg to Palo Alto. It wasn't the fastest or lightest thing on the road, but neither am I.
One of the bike's best features was its handlebars, which swept back toward the seat so I could sit up straight when I rode (two lower back surgeries make me a bad candidate for regular handlebars). It also had one of those super-bright Night Rider lights, with a rechargeable battery pack. The thief got that, as well as my helmet, a pump, and my saddle bag full of tools.
But the really heartbreaker is the loss of the sweetest wooden fenders in the world. I can't tell you how many conversations I have had with perfect strangers, all because of those fenders. In winter, they kept me dry. In spring, summer, and fall they were awesome, so I left them on. I think I paid for my vanity on Friday.
When I got home from the train station I phoned the police. They were very nice and patiently took down all my painfully detailed descriptions of my lost ride, but I don't expect to get a call this weekend with the news that they have found it. Mostly I just wanted to make sure their statistics on bike thefts were accurate. No, I think the best chance of finding my bike is to check the hundreds of bikes listed every day on craigslist. Needle in a haystack... In the meantime, I'll be fixing up a red, mid-'80s Diamond Back Fleet Streak that is sitting in several pieces in our backyard. It needs a seat, a lock (ha!), and new tubes. That, a helmet, and a couple of tools will get me a commuter bike. It looks like crap, so it should be perfect.
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