third robbery ruffles my feathers

On our approach to our apartment Yvonne and I were enjoying great conversation about our evening out. Automatically, I pressed our garage door opener. Slowly and methodically the chain driven motor rumbled and the entrance to our inside parking spot appeared.

The oddity of what we saw was peculiar. The door from the garage to the ground floor hallway was open. We never leave it open.

Normally, the hallway is dark, but this time the light was on. My suspicions were immediately on alert. Quickly, I exited our car and sped upstairs and was relieved that our apartment door was still intact and not broken open like our last burglary.

But, my relaxed mood was in for a shock. When I trotted down the stairs and into the garage to give Yvonne the OK, I did a double take to my left. My treasured Raleigh road bike was gone!

Burglars had struck again for the third time in less than a year. I was disgusted. “No! They stole my bicycle!” I moaned.

We took a quick assessment of our garage. The bicycle helmet was also missing. Those cads!

My bike was a slick road bike. It was built for the long distances and had carried me for countless miles in Oregon, Michigan and California. The bike was tuned to me personally.

In Michigan I had the bike customized just for me. A local bike shop took my order. They installed a flat handle bar in place of the racing curved bar.

Since they were working on the handle bar, I had them upgrade my brakes, grips and add customized bar end handles. A computer for speed, distance, time and combined calculations finished off the top end of this spiffy machine. It was a very cool look.

A Blackburn luggage rack doubled as a decent rear wheel fender. The normal skunk stripe from a rainy road would not send a rooster tail splattering mud and grime up my back. Its design allows saddlebags to quickly attach and detach from a strong frame.

On the back-end of my bike is an electric tail light. It will flash or hold a steady light. Safety is always first.

On my silver blue mount I have commuted for miles in Oregon. In Michigan we cruised the undulations of Farmington Hills. Here in California our routes started eating up the Pacific Ocean frontage road. God knows that I miss my bike.

photo credit: google image