Behold! It's my bike, right where I left it back in October. Apparently the local bike vandals consider it too ugly to dismantle. I refer to this as 'having character.' 2005:06:30 10:43:13
Now back December before last, my ride met an untimely end at the pointy end of a stopsign-running taxicab. Thanks to his catlike ninja powers, yours truly was largely unharmed. But that's not the point of this story.
Pictured here, my current wheels. Back in the day, Paul was kind enough to donate a disused relic from the dusty corner of his basement to my cause. After some attention from my good friends, Elbow Grease, Duct Tape, and "Spare" Bike Parts, I was back on the road. Spring came, and summer followed; the first year. And as it emerged that I was not destined to spend my second year of grad school on this continent, I bequeathed the ride back to said Paul, and admonished the fellow to take up riding as anyone so hirsute as himself surely must.
This he did not do. But evidently some proprietary sentiment did linger, for he was kind enough to remove the fliers left at wide intervals by the Parking & Transportation folks which would eventually have led to its forcible removal as abandoned property. Nevertheless, no ordinary bike would survive such rudimentary attention, as around here two deadly factors stalk: Snow Drift and Thievery. Left on the rack for a year, the ordinary bike would be reduced to one wheel and a rusty frame, unless by chance it were nicked whole by those ruffians with a knack for U-locks.
But The Ride survives, I was delighted to find. I attribute this to the facts that a) I'm just that good at rust-proofing my work, and b) the local thieves are pansies. Which is fine by me. A duct tape fender would not have dissuaded the Chicago prowlers, after all.