Stealing back a stolen bike. Check.

Last Friday was a cool day for me.  The plan was simple for Brigit and I, get our stuff done by noon and dash out of the city up to Madison, WI to ride a couple loops of the IM Wisconsin bike course, then go out for a couple beers in Madison and crash.  Cool, right?

In order for this story to make a bit more sense, let's back up a couple months.  I think it was the middle of March when we went to The Villages to visit Brigit's parents.  One of the awesome things we did was go to this flea market in Ocala, FL.  Culturing experience, to say the least.  We did, however, buy some sunglasses.  $8/pair for some great Oakly M-Frames without the Oakley logo.  Let's not get into that, just know they were great.  

Last month we raced in New Orleans and Brigit dropped her bike on the lens of hers and wrecked them.  Not a big deal since they were cheap, but she was out a pair of shades to run in.  So, my plan was to head out to Swap-o-Rama near O'hare Friday morning and surprise her with some new ones.  I thought that since we had bought them at a flea market originally, that this one would have them too.  Naive.  They did not.  Mission failed.  Time to leave.

Not so fast.

On my way out, I saw this older gentleman walking a bike in the opposite direction of me.  It was a white Giant road bike.  A white Giant OCR1-W with grey trim.  Just like the bike Brigit had up until last summer when it was stolen from a bike rack in front of the Sears Tower where she works.

I stopped the man and played dumb.

"Hey man, cool bike!  Can I take a look at it?"  I was looking for details I knew were on her bike.  Shimano SPD pedals? Check. 50/39/30 Compact Triple? Check. Shimano 105? Check.  Everything I looked for was there.  It was her bike.

"Whatchoo think bro? You like?"

"Yeah I do!  This would be a perfect bike for my girlfriend.  How much do you want for it?

"Oh, I pay 180, so how bout 220 cash and it's yours?"

"How about zero and I don't tell anyone that you stole this bike from the bike rack across the street from Sears Tower last summer?  We'll call it even."

"Oh. Its yours man."

Before I even finished he was handing me the bike.  I made a beeline for the car and zoomed out of there as quickly as I could. Did he have friends following me? I didn't want to find out, even with my newfound confidence and highly held chin.

Yesterday we dropped it off at Element Multisport to have it cleaned up and tuned.  Brigit will be back riding her road bike on Wednesday afternoon.

What are the chances of me showing up to a flea market the day this gentleman is trying to sell a stolen bicycle, almost a year after he originally stole it?  Doesn't matter.  We win.

Bucket List:

47. Steal back a stolen bike.

Michael

Michael


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