The Bike Thief...

Excuse me while I kiss this guy!! Excuse me. I will now vent...In a much too hurried world, of my own making I might add, I found myself longing for a few hours off the grid. with out thinking too much about the details involved in going off the grid i spoke up at the dinner table the other night and declared to my unprepared eating family...ROAD TRIP FOR ME AND MOM!!!!!. The children crying and the inner turmoil and feelings of child abandonment that comes from too much time with out a kid break didn't deter me...us a bit. After farming out the 3 kids to several willing families (who we will owe big time), organizing someone to let our dog in at night and out in the morning, booked a cheap Priceline hotel room in Berkeley, my wife Jenny and I were ready for some "personal us time". With van windows down and the music up we were soon cruising on highway 80, what a sight I must have been, head out the window golden retriever style, light hearts and an eye out for adventure we felt free and domestic animal like. The plan was to take a much needed 36 hour sabbatical(from the kids) to see some live music in the city, eat some real ethnic food and ride our Mt. bikes in the east bay hills. Little did we know we were about to become prey in that big city. After a beautiful and balmy late summer evening of eating at an outside cafe, drinking, laughing and feeling the way we did "before kids" we strolled back to our hotel for a romantic soiree. I'll save you the vivid details of what happened next, very personal but really good. As we awoke the next morning we bounded for our locked van that corralled our metal steads or mountain bikes as they are known in the modern world. With a serendipitous swagger I approached the Astro Van a mere 50 yards from the hotel door and I noticed tiny sparkles on the ground, they glittered in the morning sun light, oh how pretty. Then it hit me as I reached for the van door...there is no driver side window, h

ow strange. Then real reality hit, the bikes are GONE! The pit in my stomach made me nauseous. These bikes were like our horses, meant more to us...me than the van. Just a year had passed since I had spent countless hours on Pinkbike, Craigs list, E-bay, MTBR, procuring the best possible rides for us with a limited adult toy budget. Now they were gone, lifted by the bike thief, the night stalker who with an accomplice no doubt, smashed the window with a rock and wrestled our rides out of the van and rode them into the night. I am not a mean spirited person or would never wish harm on anyone, but my first thought was, "I would sell my soul to the devil if it would insure that the rip off artist who stole our bikes was on a single track ride to hell to endure an eternity of truing the devils perpetually un-fixable bike wheels" while rats....never mind, it was a fleeting thought. There is a reason for everything, and it is possible, but not probable that by riding that day we could have encountered personal calamity, far beyond loosing our bikes. I keep saying that to myself, hoping it will wash the hatred of that slime ball off my brain. My therapy now includes more practical activities like filling out an online police report, contacting the insurance company, writing a mean letter to the hotel management and looking for our stolen bikes on the internet. That's where I could use everyone's help. I am posting stock photos of our stolen bikes. If you happen to notice someone who just got a screaming deal on a bike and it looks like one of ours, let me know. I don't even want our bikes back, I just want to make sure they went to a good home. Did you know in the wild west if you stole a mans horse, you could be shot legally? Not that there is any connection to this situation and that one, but I thought it was an interesting factoid. The good news is, Jenny and I get to Demo new bikes and if the insurance deductible doesn't completely wipe out our adult family bike budget, then we can get bikes that will be at least half as good as what we once had. Oh Joy!