Stolen Bike: It happened, I knew it too. What Now?

For so long, I would hear and read about other bicyclists going through trauma with their best friend, buddy, traveling companion, their bike.

And so, I follow the same predicament and must admit that my bike was also stolen.

How did it happen? Well, it all started when life is good, so they say, but things like losing a bike is quite shocking. I parked on a street bike rack securely on a corner next to an event I was heading out to. My friend and I were having so much fun enjoying our outing, having drinks, and dinner.  As we were close to ending our evening, I walked over to where my bike was parked. As I got closer to the rack, I didn't see my bike. I know I had a couple of drinks but I know that's the same bike rack where I parked it earlier. Reality set in, my bike was stolen; helmet, locks and all. 

I was upset; it ruined my high for the evening. My friend could only be apologetic and conciliatory about the whole situation. I was stunned. My bike was stolen. 

Heading home without my bike was surreal. Emptiness had set in. I didn't know what to make of it. First I immediately contacted city services to report my stolen bike. I received an apologetic email from one of the city's board of supervisors who represented the district where my bike was taken. I thanked him, but it left little consolation that my bike was gone. 

I've owned this bike for as long as I could remember, maybe 6-7 years? It was a reliable way to get around the city especially when public transportation was costly and unreliable. You get a sense of freedom and liberation in coming and going as you chose to zip across town. But there are days when rain is really heavy, than I could pay a fare to catch the bus or train. 

As a bike commuter, I rely heavily on my bike to get to and from work and everywhere else in the city. 

For months, I elected not to get a bike. I ended up paying for public transportation, which defeated the whole purpose of owning a bike.  But I was in denial. I wanted so much to find THE bike that would bring me joy, reliability, and independence. Sure enough I snapped out of it and started shopping for a new bike. To add insult to injury, I learned that the cost of a new bike tripled. I had to get back into the swing of things. I ignored the price tag and focused on a bike that I needed to get me around. I of course stuck to the color red to think of continuity of moving on. Today, I'm totally thrilled that I'm back into doing what I love to do is bike around town and feel independent again. 

Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I looked at the bright side of things and learned to be more alert and mindful on where to lock my bike, to secure properly, and hope I've done my best to secure my buddy, friend, old reliable to take me places again. 

Gotta pedal here, pedal there!