Which Is Less Likely?

 What might you have in common with Miguel Indurain?

Well, not five Tour de France victories—unless you’re Jacques Anquetil, Eddy Mercx or Bernard Hinault.

Otherwise, it’s most likely that if you share any experience with the Basque legend, it’s that of having your bike stolen.

Last month, he was prepping for the six-day Titan Desert mountain bike race when his machine was taken from a van parked outside a hotel in Vilaseca, a Catalonian town where Indurain was staying.

Now, if you’re lucky, you might have another commonality with him: one that might seem almost as rare as five Tour de France victories.

He got his bike back.  The local police force reported the return, which they effected.

Now we are, unfortunately, in still-rarer, if not quite as rare as five TdF wins, territory: the constables actually helping someone to reunite with their bike. 

Miguel Indurain deserves such cooperation. So do you, should your bike ever be stolen.

A Lock--And A Blockchain?

Until a few days ago, I thought a blockchain had something to do with construction machinery or power tools.  Turns out, it's very high tech. In fact, it is a core component of the Bitcoin.

As I understand it, the "block" is a growing list of digital records linked by using cryptography.  Each block contains a cryptographic hash of the previous block, a timestamp and transaction data.  By its design, the cryptographic hash is a one-way function, meaning that it is impossible to invert, i.e., alter.  

Each of the blocks is linked using cryptography.  The blocks can originate from any number of sources and can be transmitted to others.  As an example, a block can be sent from the owner of an object to the police and an insurance company.

You can see where this is going, right?

IBM is working on a system that will allow a bike's owner to register his or her machine via an app.  That information would also be stored on a "smart" lock that would provide the location of the bike when it's parked--and allow transmission of that data to the concerned parties (owner, police and insurer) if the bike is stolen.

Currently, reporting a stolen bike is a cumbersome process in the US and Europe, as Louis de Bruin explains.  "Many interactions are required to exchange information that all these parties do not have at hand," said the IBM Blockchain Lead for Europe.  The blockchain "simplifies the process," he said, because "all information about the stolen bicycle and owner are recorded on the blockchain and available for all parties to access at the right moment."

That IBM is trying this system first in the Netherlands, via IBM Benelux, is not surprising.  After all, there are more bicycles than people in the low-lying nation, and theft is a problem, particularly in Amsterdam.  But IBM sees the potential, not only for individual bike owners, but for owners of rental or bike-share fleets.  In some cities, such as Rome, bike-share programs were halted because of theft and vandalism.

Of course, such a system could also be used to aid in recovering other stolen items, and in detecting counterfeit items.  But it's fascinating to see that, if such a system works, cyclists might be its early adopters.

Losing Sleep In Seattle

Perhaps you've seen Sleepless In Seattle.

Well, over the weekend, something happened that's causing a few more people to lose sleep near Seattle.

In nearby Spanaway, a trailer was stolen from the Bethel Middle School.  That alone would upset some people.  But what makes this story even more troubling are the contents of that trailer:  20 shiny red bicycles.

I know:  They sound like some kids' dreams.  They probably are.  Those Specialized Roll Sport Low Entry bikes were used in Physical Education classes to teach kids how to ride safely.  I am guessing that some of those kids probably didn't have a bike of their own, or even access to one from a family member, friend or neighbor.  Even some of those who had bikes of their own, I'm sure, looked forward to the classes.

The kids aren't the only ones rattled by the theft.  Funding for the bikes, purchased from Old Town Bikes in Gig Harbor (each bike has a label from the shop),  came from the Cascade Bicycle Club and state grants.

The trailer, a 2016 Mirage Xcel with Washington State license plate number A8106C, was secured with hardened locks on its doors and a hitch lock, and was parked behind a locked gate.

The Pierce County Sheriff's Department  (253-798-4840) would like to hear from anyone with information about the whereabouts of the trailer or its contents.

I hope everything will be found and folks will be able to sleep easily in Seattle.  

When It's Gone In Tucson: You Have A 3 Percent Chance

I feel like somebody broke my leg.

Tucson, Arizona resident Leif Abrell voiced what many of us felt when a bicycle was stolen from us.  He lost his custom-made mountain bike in the wee hours of 28 September.  Like most bike-theft victims, he didn't see that his trusty steed was gone until it was too late:  A noise woke him and he noticed the door to his carport was open.  He checked to see whether anything valuable was missing, but in his groggy state, it didn't occur to him to look in the dining room of his midtown home.  When he did, he saw that his treasured bike was missing.  And he found a much-inferior bike deserted on the side of the street next to his house.

The rest of his story is also all-too-familiar to those of us who've had our wheels whisked away:  He reported his loss to the police.  While he "didn't have high hopes" for recovering his bike, he clung to "some hopes that something would happen," he recounted.  Alas, "nothing really happened," he said.

I learned of Abrell's ordeal from an article on Tucson.com.  According to that same article, 1200 bike thefts have been reported to police in "The Old Pueblo".  Only about three percent of those cases ended in arrests of suspected thieves and, worse, there's really how many stolen bikes are returned to their rightful owners.  As in most cities, the police don't track that.

Perhaps most disheartening of all, 63 percent of this year's bike theft cases were marked as "cleared", meaning they reached some sort of conclusion. Why is that disheartening?  Well, most of those cases were closed because there wasn't enough evidence to continue an investigation.  

Everything I've mentioned confirms something known to most of us who have had bikes stole:  Once it's gone, you'll probably never see it again.

Chris Hawkins, a Tucson police spokesman, echoed a common refrain in explaining why it's so difficult to track stolen bicycles:  In most places, "bicycles don't need to be registered like vehicles."  And, he says, bicycle owners rarely record serial numbers, which can be entered into databases for access by owners of second-hand shops and other establishments where stolen bikes might end up. 

The lack of such records, Hawkins says, is one reason why, even when bikes are retrieved by cops and find their way to the evidence room, they are seldom re-united with their owners.  

While Hawkins makes good points, the cynic in me (I am a New Yorker, after all) wonders whether some police departments would actively pursue bike a bike theft even if they had serial numbers and other records.  While some officers, like some people in other professions and jobs, simply don't care, others are simply overwhelmed by competing priorities and directives. 

Sometimes I think one has the best hope of getting a stolen bike back if a shop owner or mechanic recognizes it--or if its owner encounters it on the street.

A Reunion, A Ride Into The Sunset--And Congee

So, it looks like my "meeting in Kool Orange" might be turning into a friendship.  Or, at least, a cycle-buddy relationship.

Yes, Bill and I went for a ride the other day.  He was on his Kool Orange Schwinn Sports Tourer from 1971, and I pedaled my 1981 Trek 412.  

I know:  I have to post a photo of it on my sidebar, with my other bikes.  I've had it almost a year now.  It's still a work in progress, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to keep it--even after I get the Mercian Vincitore Special I've ordered!

Anyway, Bill--who said he'd been feeling a bit under the weather--was moving at a rather sprightly pace through the backstreets of industrial Brooklyn when we chanced upon a shop in Bushwick.

"Can I help you."

"No, just want to take a look. Any shop with two Bob Jacksons looks promising."

Those bikes were, as it turned out, an entree, an appetizer or whatever you want to call it.  Haven Cycles has quite the selection of vintage bikes:  I noticed, among other bikes, a classic Raleigh Competition, a Schwinn Paramount track bike and a Serotta track bike equipped with Shimano's 10-pitch gearing and gold-anodized Super Champion Arc en Ciel tubular rims.  There was even a Raleigh ten-speed made for the British market (it had the lamp holder brazed to the front fork) and the usual selection of ten- and twelve-speed bikes converted to single-speed city machines--including a lovely metallic lavender Motobecane.

I was especially taken with the Bob Jackson of Robin, the co-owner, who outfitted the bike with Surly's best rear rack, a White Industries triple crankset, Phil Wood hubs and, of course, a Chris King headset.  The frame was intended for loaded touring, and that's how Robin equipped it.

Anyway, she left a comment on my post from the other day, describing an incident later that day that bore too much similarity to the ones I described in that post.  She and co-owner Jon were, fortunately, able to re-unite a stolen bike with its rightful owner a year after it went missing.

After our visit, Bill and I continued riding through back streets of Brooklyn and Queens on a chilly but beautiful late fall-verging-into-early winter day.  He--a photographer--commented that the day's light, as lovely as it was, looked more like early winter.  I agreed and couldn't help but to notice that the day definitely felt like winter once we started crossing the bridges over Jamaica Bay into the Rockaways and back into Brooklyn, near Floyd Bennett Field.

Yes, we rode into the sunset.  Please don't read too much into that:  We rode into the sunset, but not off into the sunset!

Anyway, after that, we rode to his place and he introduced me to King's Kitchen, one of the many Chinese restaurants in his neighborhood: in Sunset Park, right next to the namesake park and a few blocks from Maimonidies Hospital and a point where Asian, Hispanic and Hasidic communities converge.

Few things warm the bones after a cold ride like a bowl of congee!  In all, it was a day of happy endings, wouldn't you say?