My bike stable has been a little screwed up. See, there's nothing in there that would make a bike thief vomit. Sometimes you need to run downtown to drink . . . errr, I mean, shop . . . and you don't wanna havta get all anal about looking out the window every 2 seconds to see if your bike's still there. That's why a guy needs a downtowner.
I rectified the situation on New Year's Eve, because I needed just such a bike for New Year's Eve. I'd been eyeing it on craigslist for a few days. Now it was action time. A small amount of cash was exchanged in the dimly lit third floor hallway of a lower south hill apartment building. It was about 7 pm when I got home.
If you remember that night, it snowed, and it was the wet, slippery, treacherous kind. I told Patty that we were going to celebrate by bike. She told me to go to hell. I told her to suck it up. She told me to shove it. I breathed a huge internal sigh of relief, while faking all silent, brave and irritated on the outside. It was slick like snot and we would have been off our bikes and hoofin' it down the hill, if we hadn't actually crashed and died first. My wife totally rules and once again saved us from me.
So we, uhhh, "compromised". That is, we loaded our bikes in the truck, hauled them to the bottom of the hill, and rode from there. We met up with Mike and Sarah and had a damn fine time, even though we didn't come anywhere close to making it to midnight.
The Spokane art scene is obviously alive and well. Coolest curbside urban snowman ever.
So the bike, I know. It's not that ugly yet, but give me some time. It's steel from one end to the other and now that I can (barely) braze, sky's the limit. People will eventually be crossing the street to avoid this thing. And that's a new year's resolution that I think I can finally keep.
Is it me, though, or is that one sweet rack? Probably worth the whole price of the bike, right there. (We added the basket. Patty's idea to leave the tails on the cable ties. She obviously gets it.)
Anyways, last bike I'll ever need. I swear. And holy shit from hell, do I love to swear.