“They Took The Grips”

 Many years ago—before I knew better—someone took the rear wheel from a bike I’d parked.

I thought it was secure because I’d used the most expensive Kryptonite or Citadel lock—I forget which; they were the two “name brands” in U-locks. Anyway, the thief took my rear wheel but left the front which, like the front, had a quick-release lever. And the two wheels were a pair:  the same rims, and hubs that came out of the same box.

Part of the reason why that loss stung so much, apart from cost, was that those wheels were the first I’d built successfully. And I was angry and exasperated in the same way one is when losing one of a pair of something: say, the sock that the washing machine or dryer “ate” or the earring that fell off some time during a busy day.

For a moment, I thought the thief was someone who “had it in” for me or a CIA agent or someone engaging in psychological warfare—why? Because of a protest I attended?

Anyway, l learned to lock up my wheels. But on another occasion, years later, I locked up a bike I normally wouldn’t have left on the street. It cost me a Brooks saddle and seatpost. That was more expensive, I think, than any parking ticket issued on that block:  34th Street between Fifth and Sixth Avenues, next to the Empire State Building.

Of course, now I know that a bike locked to a parking meter, streetlight pole, fence or any other outdoor structure in a large city is a buffet table for thieves, whether of the organized, professional variety or those who commit crimes of opportunity. I have seen many bikes stripped to their bare frames after a few days—or even hours—on a New York sidewalk.

Notice that I said such things happen in any large city. Some poor soul in London also learned about that the hard way. His brand-new Specialized Sirrus X 5.0–“the most expensive bike I ever bought”—lost its wheels and most of its drivetrain. “They even took the grips off my handlebars,” he lamented. Oddly enough, the perp(s) didn’t take the pedals, some of the most commonly stolen parts. According to the owner, the way the bike was parked may have made them difficult to remove.

But the hardest lesson our benighted cyclist learned may have been the insurance company’s denial of his claim. He used two Gold locks, but the insurer refused to reimburse him because the bike wasn’t behind a locked door. 

So…Even if you have the best locks, remember to read your insurance policy carefully. Oh, and don’t leave wheels and other expensive parts vulnerable.

There's Nothing Like It

I ride Brooks saddles.  About a decade ago, I tried an Imperial version of their B-17.  I didn't care for it. Then again, I've never liked saddles with cutouts, though  I understand that some people won't ride anything else. 

"Peek-a-boo" seats have, I must say, at least one benefit I never considered:

The owner of that Puch will never have to worry about having his or her seat stolen.  That person also will have no use for one of my "tricks".

He Was Sitting On Quite The Collection

Some thieves are professionals.  You might say stealing is their job, or even their career.   They might end up in that line of work out of circumstance, for a lack of other options.  Or they may have a compulsion or proclivity.  

(Is someone born to be a thief?  Has anyone ever taken a Myers-Briggs test and learned that he or she is best suited to a life of taking other people's stuff?)

Then there are those who steal to support themselves or others, or habits or hobbies.   That type of crook sometimes changes his or her ways, whether from  a change in life circumstances or getting busted.

Finally, there are the ones whose pilferage is focused on a particular item or category of goods.  They may start off by taking something for their own use or to sell but, for whatever reasons, stealing that specific thing becomes an obsession.

That last category of thieves includes 57-year-old Hiroaki Suda.  A security video showed him taking two seats at a train station and parking lot for bicycles in Higashiosaka, just east of Osaka, Japan.  That led to his arrest on 13 February.  

While admitting to the charges, he told police he'd been stealing bicycle seats for "about 25 years" to "relieve stress at work."  "Gradually," he said, "collecting them turned out to be fun."

How many did he collect? 5800.  At least, that's how many Osaka prefecture police seized from a storage facility Suda rented. 

I'd like to know what's in that collection.  Are there any long-since-discontinued Brooks or special-edition Ideale saddles?  Perhaps there's something from a Japanese maker whose wares were never exported.  Or something made from an exotic material. 

As for his motivation:  Somehow I don't think any therapist has recommended stealing bike seats as a way to relieve work-related stress.

Is It Really The Thought That Counts?

In a neighborhood where I once lived, there was a "high concept" bicycle shop.

Perhaps that tells you something about the neighborhood.  As far as I could tell, though, "high concept" meant there wasn't much there but the intent of the owners.  They didn't have the space to stock lots of high-quality (or merely expensive) bikes and equipment, but you were supposed to know somehow that such stuff would be there if the owners had the wherewithal for it.

It was sort of like conceptual art, I guess:  The owner's intent, like the artist's, was more important than the product--if indeed there was one.  That might've been the reason why the shop stayed in business for a few years before the dot-com bubble burst just after the turn of the century/milennium.


This picture got me to thinking about that place:

Are those conceptual or high-concept wheels?

A Wheel Disappears

If you saw my post from the other day, you may have noticed something different about my LeTour.

Last week, I left it parked outside overnight, next to the candy store/newsstand on the corner.  It’s a pretty visible corner, and people walk by it even in the wee-est hours of the morning.

But, apparently, someone keeps very different hours from theirs, or mine. 

Last Friday morning, I went to the candy store and discovered that the LeTour had been turned into a unicycle.

I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised:  the front wheel wasn’t locked.  Also, it has a black hub with a nutted (non-quick release), black spokes and  a black deep-V rim on which the sidewalls aren’t machined for brakes.  So, perhaps, someone wanted it for a “stealth” bike—or to sell to someone who’ll use it for that purpose.

Fortunately, I wasn’t going to use the bike when I discovered the theft.  I took a trip down to Recycle A Bicycle and asked them for the cheapest 700C front wheel they had.  It’s actually decent: all name-brand components, if the lowest-level model of each.  Heck, it even had a Velox rim tape in good condition.

So far, it’s working fine.  For twenty bucks, I got a wheel that someone trued and tensioned with a hub that seemed to have been regreased.  Good folks, they are, at Recycle A Bicycle.