Awesome, one item off my check list 😊 A bike. Yes a bicycle. After all, once I land someplace with the boat I need a mode of transportation to get around, and a bike will do just fine. It was generously donated by a good friend, and I ashore you there is a tale to go with it. Turn away now if you don’t want to hear the long sad story.
Long ago and far away I longed to own a shiny new ten speed. Well, 12 speed really as they were all the rage in the 80’s. I needed one, well wanted one to stay in shape and take long rides on some of the local bike trails. My employer at the time required that we be in top physical condition at all times and twice a year demanded we take a PT test to prove we were.
In addition to my employer a friend and I could hit some of the trails. Mountain biking was not familiar to me at the time so I wanted a slim fast road bike.
So, off I went to the local reputable bike shop to make a purchase. The salesgirl was about five feet, quite a tiny woman. However, she was a rider and she also knew her inventory well. She explained that for a proper frame fit, one was to stand over the frame and when ones body touched the frame that was a proper frame size.
At times my brain ceases to function, and this was one of those times. She decided to demonstrate by asking me to straddle one of the bikes, then reaching her arm out she started to slip her hand between the frame and my body. Just about when she was making contact it downed on her what she about to do and retracted her arm quite quickly and turned an immediate crimson. I too turned crimson; it was a very awkward moment I can assure you for both parties.
I did purchase a properly fitted bike and a beautiful teal color too. Some accessories and off I went. I was content hitting some bike trails and staying in shape and I really loved that bike. So where did it go, did a sell it, did I give it away, no, this is where the story takes a dark turn. So again, your chance to turn away and avoid the trauma you are about to endure.
My employer decided it was time for a new job, and new location. Orders came, and off I went to parts beyond. A moving truck was called, and all my worldly belongings piled inside nice and tidy and safe. Or was it!
Arriving at my new home, and getting things in order, I received a call from the moving company as I expected. However, the man on the phone was not making any sense whatsoever. He asked if the claims adjuster had arrived yet? What, what claims adjuster I asked, just bring me my stuff please. Come on man, I am here at the new digs and ready to get life in order.
Soon enough a moving van arrives, weird I thought, my stuff went into a tractor trailer and this is a small box truck, but hey, whatever lets to get to it. The driver comes around and keeps insisting that I not get upset with him, he is only delivering, and is not the responsible party. What, come on lets unpack, open the door. And he opens the door to the back of the truck, and there was stuff. Lots and lots of stuff, bags of stuff, stuff in piles and not in bags, stuff with grass and dirt on it! What I say, this is not my stuff, did you make a wrong turn, the dump is that way I tell him. I thought you were bringing my stuff.
This is your stuff he tells me! What, no way. So we start dragging things out of the truck, I begin to recognize some things, like some furniture, or what was left of some furniture. An old Philco radio from the farm crushed broken and destroyed. Garbage bags full of my clothes dirt and grass added. My beautiful craftsman too box twisted and missing every single tool.
And there, there was my beautiful teal bike. Twisted and bent like some worthless piece of scrap metal. The frame twisted, both wheels twisted and destroyed, and perfectly useless. It was a slow motion blurr unloading, it was surreal other worldly. This cant be, this is not happening this is not reality, please wake me up and tell me I was having a nightmare.
Once everything was unloaded and piled in my new place I had no idea where to begin to asses. A claims guys arrived, and we agreed there really was nothing salvageable. I asked why did they bother bringing anything, why not just take it all to the dump, and what on earth happened to my stuff anyway?
He said the driver fell asleep and the trailer went off the highway and rolled over. All they could do was grab stuff and throw it in the back of another truck, and that’s how it was delivered to me. Some stuff was not mine, and much of my stuff was simply missing. He said they grabbed what they could see was tagged, and what they thought might be mine.
My employer paid for the move so was ultimately responsible. However the rules were on their side. I was to prove ownership, via a receipt for anything I wanted to make a claim on. And, it was to be reduced by 10% by each year of its age! What, I have no receipts for anything! In that case the value was rated at 10% of its purchased new value. What a nightmare working that out!
Meantime, I brought my bike to a local bike shop for repair, the guy thought for sure I was joking as he told me it would be cheaper to get a new one altogether. The cost to repair it will be very high, bent frame, both wheels etc etc. But I said it was near and dear to me so please repair.
So a few months later off I go to see how things are with my bike as I had not heard from them in some time. Shock arrives slow, as I stand there and stare into an empty show room window. Nada nothing a complete empty space! Wrong address, I am pretty sure I dropped my bike off here at what was a bike repair shop! I go find a phone and call, and the number is out of service. We did not walk around with cell phones in the late 80’s. You had to actually walk and find a phone booth, I know right!
I go back bang on the door, start walking around like a mad man possessed within, where is it, where are all the bikes. Did they move? There is a for lease sign so I call, and the man said they closed shop. He sold off all his inventory to pay back bills and has no idea where the owner went after that. Gone poof, bike no more.
So, what does this have to do with this bike I now have in my position? The bike generously donated? Remember at the beginning I rode with a friend, well, it is that friend and the bike he bought.
He is moving and not bringing it with him. So even though it is not that teal bike I had, it is its brother so to speak. Let us hope this bike fairs better than mine did. That’s a sad sad story of its short life is a hard pill. And be assured, the tale you just read is all true, but, it is only half the story! The other half is far to Grimm to write.
This bike will see many places, and have many adventures. It has already had a good life, well taken care of and has proven itself a trusty stead indeed. It and I will start anew and write about those adventures soon to come. God willing I will care for it, and it will care for me. Stay tuned.
