keys found

key's found.  month later.  at shoppers drugmart, eaton's centre.  don't ask.  don't know.  they've had an adventure!  i wish they could talk.

not a bike thief

two days ago i locked my bike on queen street and crossed the street to go into a shop.  five minutes later, paying for my merchandise, i noticed my keys missing.  i turned my pockets and bags inside out, searched the shop, retraced my steps to my bike, looked under and in things, popped into a couple of neighbouring stores.  clearly i dropped my keys and someone picked them up!

reluctantly, i abandoned my bike and walked to work.

no-one had called to report the keys found.  how would they know to do this, you ask?  my work key card was attached to my set of keys in a luggage tag.  my full name and place of work printed on it..  at my desk i first spent half an hour googling this information to see whether my home address could be found this way.  if you typed in your website in whois.com it used to display your billing address. thank gawd they stopped that. what took them so long?

suddenly i wondered if i may have been pick-pocketed by someone who had his eye on my bike, while watching me lock it!  so i called the girl at the shop - ok, the condom shack! - and asked her to look out the window to see if my bike was still there.

sorry to bother you, i’m the one who lost her keys, do you have a moment?  - no, across the street - the one with the two baskets and the flowers, you see it?

it was still there.

after work,reasonably assured i wouldn’t be robbed or raped, i walked to canadian tire and  bought a chain anyways, but decided against spending 300 dollars (my guess) to hire a locksmith.  then i walked home.  it was strange to be locked out of my own home, out of my life actually.  but i kept thinking, at least it’s not my wallet i lost!

my mother let me into the building and into my apartment.  i borrowed her copy of my key.  i installed the chain on the door in already existing holes in the frame.  then i looked through my box of spare keys.  i found a key to the extra lock i carry on my luggage rack, but not to the one currently holding my bicycle hostage on queen street.

the next morning i called the girl at the condom shack.  hi, i’m so sorry to bother you again, i’m the one who lost her keys.  do you have a  moment?

my bike had survived the night.  and the shop girl (a different girl) was a very good sport about it.  i won’t let anyone near it, she said!

how sweet!

then i emailed my neighbour, a real experienced bike guy, who might have some bolt cutters.  bolt cutters won’t do it, said experienced bike guy.  he convinced me to leave it in his hands, he would go there with tools and bring my baby home safe.  no offence to R, but out of all my acquaintances, he most looks the part of a bike thief - youthful, wiry, mysterious, black toque. ...i don’t know.  what’s a bike thief look like?  but i was worried about him, and wanted to be there, but he would be on foot, and wanted to ride home after bailing me out.  he assured me he could handle it.  why not send him an email to refer to, if i wished.

you’ve seen my bike, right?,  i said.

i called the girl at the condom shack.  it was the first girl again who answered,  the one who originally helped me with my purchase.  hi, i’m so sorry to bother you, i’m the one who lost her keys.  yes, haha, do you have a moment?  i’m having someone come and cut my bike loose.  it’s going to look an awful lot like he’s stealing it!  ...so, i was wondering, if you could just, if need be, vouch for him?

-------------

so, i wasn’t there, but here’s how it went down as i understand it from R’s account.  R starts to hack away at my lock, and out of the restaurant behind him come two lovely waiters in their white shirts and black vests to challenge tough guy R who seems  to be stealing a ladies' bike.  condom girl sees this and rushes out to say it’s ok, the owner lost her keys!  at this point the waiters start to share their experiences of lost keys and locked bikes, and give R advice.

this whole time R is working away with clearly inadequate tools.  you’re the worst bike thief i’ve ever seen, says shop girl! wonder how many bike thieves she knows.

thus, what was dangerously starting to look like an abandoned bike, spent another night in exile.

this morning R and i set out together to finish the job.  he borrowed another neighbour’s van. aside from the money i’m spending to replace all these keys and locks, i’m calling in an awful lot of favours!   let’s think of this as an adventure, said R. i can't believe i can't find that key! don't worry, it'll turn up, he said, once we cut the lock.

he stopped the van across the street from my bike, told me to stay with the illegally parked vehicle, and left the engine running.  i got out to take some photos.  as worried as i was about R getting arrested, i’m even more worried, though not surprised, at the mix of people just walking by, or looking, or deliberately not looking.  one woman stopped and got into a conversation with him.  i didn’t hear them but it could have easily gone something like this:  it’s ok, the woman standing there by the get-away van, yes, the one giving you the thumbs up, she lost her keys.

thank you!,  i mouthed.  somewhat assured, the feisty woman moved on.

10 minutes later, the lock was off, i hugged R, and i went straight to MEC.  then to work.

total projected cost of this adventure:

bike lock - $30

door chain - $15

various keys copied - $20

work key card - $20

building key - $50

future lunch with R - priceless!

what an experience!  i had a chance to ponder the potentially high price of reckless convenience.  i spent some quality time with R.  i have new interesting photographs.  i walked so much my shin muscles are sore.  and i now own a brand new magnum cable lock.  it comes with four spare keys! i'm going to keep them each in a different place.

how to ride your bike in the snow

riding in snow on two wheels? are you crazy?

i started writing this blog last winter, and just found it in my drafts folder.  i'm getting a kick out of finishing it on this day i hope to be last heatwave day of the year.

i never thought i would ride my bike in the snow, but this is my fourth winter coming up on my bike, and i have learned that snow is surprisingly sticky.

riding your bike in the snow is like walking in the snow. you need good treads and you avoid exactly the same stuff.  make no sudden moves.  you can't be in a hurry, cause you can't count on staying upright while breaking or swerving at high speed.   well, i wouldn't.   i don't when i'm on foot, and my elbows are even higher off the ground when i'm on my bike.   i like my elbows whole.  avoid bumps or steep hills, at least those hills rising up on one side of you.  take hills at a 90 degree angle.   it's really that simple if you stay clear of some specific terrains.  

there are three trouble terrains for winter riding.  i avoid very sleek ice, unless it's just a tiny patch on even ground, and i know that i can glide across without having to make the slightest adjustment.

also tricky, a very deep layer of fresh snow.  by very deep i mean  about as high as your pedals, and if that snow is the sticky wet kind even less.  it will get into your fenders or between your wheels and the body, and the heavy clumps will bog you down.  forget about it.  this is when you shimmy into the centre, ride in the ruts that drivers have kindly made for you, and show them just how much the road belongs to each and every vehicle, including you.  they can go around you - just make sure you're visible!  avoid doing this during rush hour if you can - drivers really can get homicidal.

and finally, once i rode on a very cold night behind a snow plough that was leaving behind about an inch of semi-packed snow, not hard enough for my wheels to sit on top, but not soft enough to sink into.  this turned out to be exactly like riding on a beach.  i flailed and fishtailed for about a 100 yards, before i finally gave up, completely spent and out of breath, and pushed my bike the rest of the way home.



streetcar tracks need even more attention than usual.  sometimes you can clear it with your front wheel, but the back can slip and hit the groove if your angle of attack isn't steep enough (at least 45 degrees). 

otherwise, i enjoy being outside in the winter.  i prefer it to sitting on over-crowded, over-heated buses and subways.   i like the snow on my face, being shrouded in my winter coat like a sleeping bag up around my ears, connected to the elements.

i do get a slight proprietary feeling about my bikepath, and spring is always a little disappointing when the temperature starts to rise, and i suddenly have to share with the fairweather masses.

model citizen

i'm waiting for the green light  there’s a policeman standing under the viaduct ahead on the other side of the intersection, waiting for customers.  this corner is a goldmine of infractions.  drivers chasing the light, getting stuck in gridlock because the next traffic light is so close.  the length of the turn always gets underestimated.

the police car is parked half on the bike path, and half on the sidewalk. he stands blocking the rest of the bike path, and i idly wonder if he'll move or make me change lanes, ...and if there is anything he could stop me for.  i take inventory.  no helmet.  headphones.

my light turns green and while i prepare to go around him - look over my shoulder, signal and all that, i realize that i’ve almost been run over by someone merging from the offramp.

i gasp and look back to glare at him.  his face says "oops".  i turn back to the cop and see him step out of my way, and into the street!

you! he points behind me.  over there!  he points to the piece of curb in front of me. and i continue on signal a right turn, like a closely watched cyclist should.

just then, to curb my gleaming self-righteousness, the universe has hidden a huge pothole in a puddle and i almost fall off my bike doing a little leap, legs flailing, big splash!  i think my seat goes down about half an inch when i land back on it.

frozen eye lashes

it drizzled all day yesterday. today the temperature dropped to  -20 degrees. perfect conditions for a total bike freeze. 

it took me half an hour to unlock my bike this morning. already loaded into the baskets were two bags full of clothes to take to value village, where i was meeting a friend in her neck of the woods for donating and shopping. the u-bar that locks the front wheel to the railing outside, unlocked fine, but i couldn't budge the cable lock that holds the front wheel to the frame.

i carried my locked and loaded bike up the few stairs into the lobby, left it all there to thaw, grabbed my wallet and walked over to the tool store that never carries anything i want.  i've looked at that store from this side of the street for 15 years, finally went inside last summer, can't remember what i needed, but they didn't have it. today i gave it another shot.  they don't carry de-icer.  it's not a hardware store.  it's a professional tools store. one day, if i'm desperate, i may go in and buy myself an overpriced ratchet.

when i got back i unlocked my bike, changed to middle gear while i could, and went on my way.already 35 minutes behind.  i called my friend to tell her i'd be late. at the first intersection i noticed that only my back brake worked.  oops, oh yeah the brakes!  in the next few moments i noticed my bell had turned to stone. "yo, drring, drring!"

i stopped at the home hardware near my house and bought a little bottle of lock de-icer.


i had a long way to go. at one point i thought i wouldn't make it.

it was so windy, about a third of the way there, my toes started to get cold.  and they were better covered than my hands, and did more work, too.  even though i don't wear boots, my toes never get cold, but today was special.  i stopped at a subway station and brought my bike into the heated entrance way. while warming up, i examined my bell. the bottom had filled up with water  and the whole mechanism was one pretty ice cube! i squirted in some de-icer just to see what it would do. it did nothing. after a while of watching people go in and out of the tim horton's i continued my trek, slighly thawed.  for a minute i could even use the front break!

i kept checking if my toes still hurt. my toes still hurt, wiggle, my toes still hurt. that's good.

i ducked into a warm vestibule two more times, once at a bank and once at another subway station. the nice security guard at the BMO didn't kick me out. i asked the lady using the bank machine how much farther to lansdowne. she said i have to take the streetcar. i glanced at my bike right beside me. they live in another world, the folks who take the public transit.  and the security guard didn't know which way bloor was. i'm from niagara, he said.

my bike and i live in a parallel universe. usually i enjoy it, but today, frozen brake, gears, bell, lock, eye lashes, brows, feet and ass, the wind punishing me for being free, i felt alone, invisible, helpless.

i almost gave up two thirds of the way there.  i saw a starbucks - it would have been so nice to sit down in an over-heated coffee shop, with a cappuccino, and heat up those sore toes!

at my last pitstop i called my friend again to let her know where i was, and begged her to tell me i was almost there.

when i finally got to value village, i hugged her and laughed hysterically for a minute. and then i bought these great hand made socks for the ride home!


the way home was mostly down hill, the wind in my back. the condensation of my breath on my covered face was escaping through the eye slit. i watched through a curtain of frozen together lashes a guy dragging his bike across a side street, back wheel not turning, later trying to disengage his breaks.

my feet were warm.