It was the best of bikes...
Maybe not the best, but it would do
My Aunt Gloria has been wonderful in helping me move to Indiana. Most of my mother's family lives out here. Aunt Gloria checked out the apartment before I signed the lease, found some free and cheap furniture (and made it a point to match them - a theme of blue), let me ship all my stuff to her before moving out there, and had practically everything set up for me before I even arrived. Other family members helped out by donating some of the furniture, dishes and bathroom supplies. I was spoiled to have her help and I am grateful for my family and friends making the transition from home to here so easy.
Since I live just a mile from campus, the nearest grocery store, and my job as a "Lab Angel" (student worker in the Information Technology department - which is on campus) I can get around on a bicycle. Aunt Gloria and Uncle Jim pulled down a bike which they had hanging in their barn for a while and fixed it up so it was ride-worthy again. It was still pretty little wobbly and rusty; sometimes I feared going too fast, thinking it might just disintegrate or crumble underneath me, but it sure beat walking around.
I got comfortable with riding the old bike around and overestimated what it could handle one day. Thinking I'd take a short cut - because of all the construction on 40 - I took on a steep dirt hill and on the very first peddal up the hill I thought I felt the back tire sink into the dirt. However, that shift in weight was the back tire torquing against the frame. I didn't realize the back tire would no longer spin until I stepped off and continued to walk / drag the bike up the rest of the small hill.
Now that I know how long it takes to get to campus, I leave with little cushion time. But when my bike broke down I had plenty of time to figure out what to do.
I assessed the damage and figure the back wheel just needed to be realigned. Fortunately for me, I broke down across the street from a car mechanic. Figuring they would be nice enough to let me borrow a couple of wrenches I picked up my bike and walked it over to the mechanic's. Instead, the two mechanics stopped what they were doing and before I finished explaining what went wrong, they were fixing my bike.
Steve, one of the mechanics, exclaimed "This is a Tyler bike! Do you want to sell it?" I hadn't thought about it, but knew there were a couple of reasons not to sell my bike. 1) I don't know what is so special about a "Tyler" bike 2) This bike is my only means of transportation. I gave Steve the latter of my reasons. "Well I have a newer bike at home - do you want to trade? My son's name is Tyler and he has made a hobby out of fixing up old bikes." I asked for a day to think about it and Steve said he would bring his bike for me to check out before I agreed to his proposal.
When I came back, Steve had a much nicer bike to give up for the Tyler - a Schwinn with more gears, and probably have the age. He gave me the bike and another few days to think about it. I had already checked on Google and with a couple of bike-savvy friends to make sure I wasn't getting hustled out of a treasure on two wheels. So I made the deal the next day. My new bike needed a different saddle, and better grips; other than minor adjustment, I have been quite pleased with the exchange. I see Steve now and then - he said his son made a special trip up from Kentucky or Tennessee just to pick up the bike. They were both happy to make the trade too.
Stay tuned to see what inspired me to start cliffhanging.
