Whenever I see a bike locked in the same place for
a long time, I wonder: Did its owner
suddenly have to attend to some urgent matter in some far-off place? (One
commonly finds bikes locked up in and around military bases for months, even
years, under such circumstances.) Did he
or she fall ill or get hurt? Or did he
or she simply abandon—or forget—the bike?
I’m not thinking, now, about those bikes that are
parked in the same spot every day while their owners are at work, in school or
performing some other daily ritual. Even
if the bike is locked to the same signpost, parking meter, fence or rack every
day, you can see signs, however slight, of its having been moved. Also, you can tell that the bike has been
ridden, whether because of dirt, scrapes, fading or just the normal wear one
sees on tires and other bike parts.
Rather, I am thinking about those bikes that have
moved no more than the Pyramids have since they were parked (all right, built)
in Egypt. You can tell that they haven’t
been unlocked, ridden and returned:
Everything on them looks the same, day after day, until—if the bike is
left long enough—parts start to rust and paint starts to fade. I’m thinking now of bikes that were parked
outside the Cooper Square post office so long that locals joked the decaying
skeletons of steel and carcasses of rotting rubber were part of the building’s
design.
The Cannondale in the photo has been parked around
the corner from my place for a couple of weeks, at least. It looks just as you see it: It stands in the same position, and it’s had
its seat and seatpost missing all of that time.
I assume—or, at least, hope—the bike’s owner took them off after locking
up the bike. I hope someone else didn’t
take them off: It’s not fun to come out
and find your seat missing even if that’s not quite as bad as finding your bike
missing.
Since it’s a modern bike==a fairly-late-model (I
say this because it was made in the USA.) Cannondale—I can safely assume that
the bottom bracket is a sealed cartridge.
Even if it weren’t, there would probably be an “accordion” sleeve
between the bottom bracket cups to shield the axle and bearings.
But protection doesn’t last forever. Neither does lubrication. But the results of either failing do. (Remember:
I’m talking about bicycles here, oh you of dirty mind!) Of course, the bike would have to be parked
for a long time for the seals or shields, and the grease, to break down. We had heavy, flooding rains on Sunday and
Monday, and on-and-off rain ever since.
So, even if the bottom bracket isn’t affected, you have to wonder
whether the rest of the frame would be affected.
The Cannondale is made of aluminum, so it won’t
rust. But that metal oxidizes and corrodes.
Perhaps those of you who are more knowledgeable than I am about metallurgy
can tell whether or not there is a point at which aluminum will start to
deteriorate from corrosion the way iron or steel does from rust.
Anyway, I’m sure that sooner or later the bike’s
owner will come for it. Something
interesting has happened, though, in the last few days: another bike in exactly the same color has
been locked next to it. Was that Trek
recognize the Cannondale’s dark blue color the way leopards supposedly
recognize each other by their spots?
