More bicyclist travails [322]

Today my coworkers were laughing at my dilemma. Not out of malice, but because it is as ridiculous as it is frustrating.

"Who the hell takes a bike seat?"

Petty thieves in the Mission, apparently. While it pains me to admit it, this clearly counts as a Stupid Tax: I really should have known better.

Most of the time I do know better. I remove my headlight and always chain both tires when locking my bike in the Mission after dark. I am aware that nice seats with quick releases get stolen; even without a quick-release, nice thing like Brooks’ saddles should never be left with the bike. However, my old seat was so dilapidated taking it would have been a waste of energy so I never got in the habit of securing it. My new one was relatively cheap so it didn't occur to me till I was looking at the hole where my seat-post should have been that my seat qualified as theft-worthy.

Alas.

My attempted temporary fix was to borrow the seat from a neighbor's playa-bike ("Sure! I won't need it till next August anyway"), but the post is slightly too narrow and all of my efforts to effectively shim it in place failed. So today’s ride to and from work was made standing, which, while not as uncomfortable as I had expected, stressed joints and muscles I don’t usually use. One of my coworkers sympathetically predicted that I would be in agony by the morning. Tomorrow I will see if I am sore enough that jengineering a seat for the day seems like a worthwhile endeavor.

For now, though I have more important things to do: there is a moon to be watched from the roof, port to be sipped, and a long, hot, candlelit shower to be had. If I am sufficiently wakeful, I might even manage to get quality time snuggled in bed with a book.

More bicyclist travails [322]

Today my coworkers were laughing at my dilemma. Not out of malice, but because it is as ridiculous as it is frustrating.

"Who the hell takes a bike seat?"

Petty thieves in the Mission, apparently. While it pains me to admit it, this clearly counts as a Stupid Tax: I really should have known better.

Most of the time I do know better. I remove my headlight and always chain both tires when locking my bike in the Mission after dark. I am aware that nice seats with quick releases get stolen; even without a quick-release, nice thing like Brooks’ saddles should never be left with the bike. However, my old seat was so dilapidated taking it would have been a waste of energy so I never got in the habit of securing it. My new one was relatively cheap so it didn't occur to me till I was looking at the hole where my seat-post should have been that my seat qualified as theft-worthy.

Alas.

My attempted temporary fix was to borrow the seat from a neighbor's playa-bike ("Sure! I won't need it till next August anyway"), but the post is slightly too narrow and all of my efforts to effectively shim it in place failed. So today’s ride to and from work was made standing, which, while not as uncomfortable as I had expected, stressed joints and muscles I don’t usually use. One of my coworkers sympathetically predicted that I would be in agony by the morning. Tomorrow I will see if I am sore enough that jengineering a seat for the day seems like a worthwhile endeavor.

For now, though I have more important things to do: there is a moon to be watched from the roof, port to be sipped, and a long, hot, candlelit shower to be had. If I am sufficiently wakeful, I might even manage to get quality time snuggled in bed with a book.