Just returned from stealing my bike back.
Well, sort of my bike. When I picked up my daughter from
college, we took back her roommate's abandoned bike. Her boy
friend works in a bike shop, and had probably informed her she
really could do better than the old rusted Huffy in garish
"little girl" colors, steel rims, and a U-lock locked on the
frame but with the key long lost. My intention was to donate
it to the Working Bikes Coop, for possible use in the third
world, or the more third-worldy parts of Chicago.
Lacking storage space, I put it behind the house. Our back
yard can't be seen from the street, and is difficult to see
from other back yards, yet the bike disappeared in a few days.
Tonight, as my daughter and I were driving by, I saw it out of
the corner of my eye behind a gas station. With the faded
turquoise chainrings, it's not a bike you confuse with another
bike.
Before doing anything rash, I checked with other family
members to be sure they hadn't loaned it. My youngest daughter
even had seen it there, but with the usual knowledge blockade
of teenagers it hadn't occurred to her to tell me.
Why steal back a bike you intend to donate? And do you call
the police? I decide it really is the principle of the thing
(and the mild adrenalin rush), and the police would only
wonder why I was wasting their time. Besides, I had no proof
the bike was actually mine. I put the bike in the back of the
van, then drove over to a collection home for Working Bikes
and donated it on the spot -- partly to have somebody to tell
the story to, which is of course why I'm writing this now.
--
Mike Kruger
Bike Chicago e-mail list info:
http://www.geocities.com/bvonmoss/bikechicago.html