Take my bike, please!

When the semester ends in May at Humboldt State, most of the students stagger back to where they came from. They return home a little smarter, with all sorts of esoteric knowledge, maybe some job skills, a few books, and a fat sack of locally grown chronic.

A few leave behind their bicycles, some still locked up on campus. The university collects these bikes and then disposes of them. This year a thrift store that I frequent in Arcata got a load of bikes. Most were cheap mountain bikes, the kind that I wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. Mixed in with the junk was a decent Specialized Hard Rock. I didn’t really need another bike, but I do a little horse trading with the store, which meant the bike was virtually free. I couldn’t resist.

After about 40 minutes of wrenching, the bike was ready to ride.



Here it is during my morning stop at Sutter’s Mudd. I usually get a latte, which makes me a “latte liberal.” Then again, sometimes I’m a conservative, And sometimes I’m an anarchists. But I digress.

A Hard Rock is a decent mountain bike. Not fancy, but very respectable. Being that I don’t really need this bike, I’ll probably end up giving it away. Someone will tell me how they need a bike, and I’ll say “Here. You can have this one.” There’s only one catch: Whoever takes this bike has to promise to ride it.

Either way, it has to go. Panniers not included.