Something borrowed, something blue...

Yesterday I went and bought me a bike. Carrie has one and she's been hinting that I should get one so we can go for bike rides and such healthy nonsense. So I went to the local bike recycle branch of the Salvation Army and happened to find a bike that's actually big enough for me. That was fortunate in itself because they only had a handful of bikes ready to sell. So I loaded it (well okay, half of it) into the trunk of the car and drove home. A nice new-to-me black mountain bike!

In other news, my bike got stolen last night. That's right, twelve wonderful hours of bike ownership was apparently all I'd get out of that one. (But I'll cherish those memories for many, many years... *sniff.) I'd left it outside in the carport but didn't have a bike lock for it yet. Just before going to bed I checked outside on a whim, and there it was, gone!

That's not the weirdest part. The thief left me his old bike so he basically traded up. What's wrong with this? Well, it's smaller; it's blue; and it's a rusty Canadian Tire special. So I'm pretty sure I got the raw end of the deal. I left my new blue bike out overnight on the off chance that the perp would come back and retrade, but no such luck. I guess now I'll sell this blue one to recoup some of my costs (dozens of dollars).

Carrie's bike has been sitting outside overnight for weeks, usually locked up but sometimes not. It's a pretty good bike too, but it probably helps that she keeps it behind the car and not out in the open.

Anyway, I was always happy this was a low-crime area. It just sucks that the "low-crime" part has to involve me!