R.I.P. — My bike.

The building where I live has a bike storage room on the first floor, which is supposed to be locked. Someone kept leaving it open in August, and someone’s bike got stolen on Labor Day weekend, which is when we started storing ours there. Roland Park and Hampden are very pedestrian friendly, and we have only ridden our bikes a handful of times since we got to Baltimore, so I would just check every few days to make sure my bike was still there. I rode last night, and I really enjoyed the night air and the onset of fall in my native city. I have a decent light set, and I can see in the dark pretty well when I wear my glasses. We locked our bikes together with a heavy Kryptonite lock like we always do at the back of the locked room, since no one leaves the door open after the theft sign was put on the door.

We went to get our bikes this afternoon, and the door was open. There was a piece of metal stuck in my lock so that I could not get the key in, and someone melted part of the plastic that covers the steel cable that is the “chain” of the lock. I noticed a giant scratch on my bike last night that I know was not there, and my brass bell was dirty. I was sure then that someone was messing with my ride. With the metal that I could not get out of the lock and the melting, I knew someone had tried to steal our bikes today. I was worried that they would come back, but I did not want to get bike grease all over me carrying them both together upstairs. And mostly I did not want to get our pretty bikes scratched up. We also noticed that someone disabled the lock on the bike room door and that you had to know how locks work to get it open, which I did because I wrote a “philosophy of technology” paper on locks when I was an undergrad, and learning how to pick locks was part of the research.

We called my brother at work to ask him to bring bolt cutters on his way home so that we could take our bikes upstairs and they would not get stolen. Only an hour went by, but when my brother showed up in military uniform holding hellish-looking boltcutters, I pried the door open to discover that the sumbitch came back and stole my bike, leaving my wife’s bike, I presume, for the next trip.

I’m still pretty shocked. I talked to my very nice neighbor, and he said that two other bikes have been stolen in the last two weeks or so, making mine at least third since Labor Day. And only a few of the bikes in the bike room are actually ridden — maybe three or four aside from ours — so this makes a very scary number. Someone who lives here either stole my bike or helped someone to steal it, it seems, since folks are pretty sure they have all been inside jobs. That is not nice to think of, when there are trash rooms and laundry rooms on the first floor where someone could do bad things to another person.

I am angry. I loved that bike. And last night, the scratch and the few times I ride anymore conspired to make me want to sell it or donate it. When I saw that someone tried to steal it today, I commented to my wife that I would rather someone just take it than leave it there all scratched and melty. I am angry because I got my wish. I am angry because I should have been down there with my little wire-cutters, going to town to eventually get it off, and I should have been guarding our bikes. I should not have pretended that that bike meant so little to me, and I should not have pretended that money was not an issue and that someone in my financial situation could just buy another bike like a pair of flip-flops. I should have been less anal about my pretty paint and just carried the two bikes upstairs together. Now all the pretty paint is gone.

I am disturbed by the idea of being the victim of a small crime. I mean, the Focus got totalled because of an old man who could not drive a land-yacht. But that was still an accident. This was deliberate, though not necessarily aimed at me, just at my property — one of my most prized possessions. I am disturbed that my bike might actually be in this building right now, or very close by. I hate to think that I have to call local pawn shops now to see if it turns up. I am not sure if I want it to.

But I am mostly sad. That bike meant a lot to me. Some of my favorite times in Carbondale were bike rides. It meant freedom to me, since owning a car was nothing to me but worries and money and me keeping something I did not need because I thought I deserved it. It was symbolic of deciding to move, selling the car, going full-out hippy, etc. We bought matching men’s/women’s bikes, and now my wife’s makes me sad. I know it’s stupid to get so upset about a bike and to attach so much meaning to it, but there you go.

And I don’t know what to do. Do I get another bike, though the 2006 version is very different, though similar enough to be depressing? That would be nice, but I’m not exactly swimming in money as an unemployed student. I am saving for a laptop for actual dissertation writing, and I am not sure if I can swing that and a new bike. But if I don’t get another bike, I will get sad whenever I see a fellow hippy-type riding around Baltimore, and the number of bikers is growing steadily, so that would be not fun. Plus I really just like to ride. My dad (who lives a five-minute bike-ride away) bought a 2006 version of my [old] bike a few weeks ago, and he will have no one to ride with. My wife will have no one to ride with. I’ll get rounder. And lazy.

I should get a crap bike that no one would want to steal. We had the prettiest bikes in the room, hence them being targeted. I doubt I will ever get my bike back, but maybe the landlords will do something since someone who lives or works here is a thief. I am not sure if it would ever be the same if I did get it back, and I’d probably be too afraid to ride it in Baltimore traffic anyway, after god-knows-who rode it or threw it, etc. I did almost get hit by an idiot in a van yesterday who was trying to beat another car; navigating traffic here on a questionable bike is out of the question.

No matter what, I need to get over it. Eventually.

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It seems that our renter’s insurance is a “global coverage” type deal, so they are paying for it all, save the $100 deductable. And by “it all,” I mean also the other gear like rack, lock, lights, etc. That was about $100, so I can replace my bike for the sales tax, more or less, and not including getting new lights and new lock, etc. I hope they follow up, but it’s good news at least.

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