The mission to obtain a new Mountain bike for my oldest son was on. The little five speed black bike was growing too small. From the Dentist's office we got in the truck and went down the street to one of Billing's three bike stores. It was not hard to find a reason to leave the Dentist's office.
When we got there, I was astounded to see what you could get for 350 bucks. Yes, that's much more, probably even adjusted for inflation, then I ever got; but I did not live in the woods where a Mountain bike is a legitimate way to take advantage of the natural world. If you're going to live in Nowhere land, USA, you'd better be getting something out of what it does have, instead of what it does not; like shopping malls.
He could just make it on the smallest adult frame, but it really wasn't a good fit. I marveled at the disk brakes, front suspension, lightweight components and overall sophistication. Man, what a great time to be a kid and have a bike. A bike like that would have cost over a 1000 bucks 15 years ago. This is not like electronics; this is hardware. I'm very surprised the price is that low.
He had a glow on his face, and I knew he was happy and excited. My plan is for the lucky oldest to get the new bikes for Christmas and birthdays, while the youngest inherit them when outgrown at no cost to their prescious Christmas booty. It seems to be working. In the end, though, just before they tell me I'm a hopeless old man and leave home, I'll end up buying an adult bike for each of them. We can all ride cow trails then.
When we got home my friend from Lewistown called and said he might be able to talk the now too small bike away from his son. I mean, if the son would be so inclined. This was a little touchy. It turned out the son was willing, especially for a hundred bucks. That was a fair price for a kid's bike three years old. It did not have the disk brakes and doubtless other improvements, but it was made in the modern era and would be great- if Carter would accept the idea. I shouldn't have worried about that. When he got on the bike, the same glow I'd seen in the bike shop returned. A few scratches and some obstinate gears did not matter in the least. What a great kid.
We took the bike home, and that morning before school, when the sky was still dark and the turkey's still calling from the tree tops behind the house, I worked on the bike and got all the gears functioning. He got to ride to school that day, the small patches of snow and ice no obstacle.
Travis got a surprise too. I took the old black bike, cleaned it and adjusted the gear range, and left it by the school door for him to find, and ride home with his brother when school was out.
That night I found my old thick cable and lock. ONly one key,.
"Don't give him that," my wife said, "you know he'll just lose it."
"Well, a price of a bolt cutter is probably 20 bucks."
"That's too much. Don't give it to him."
Carter loved the lock and cable. He was so excited he locked the bike by the front tire to the workbench in the garage.
This morning, before full light and with the turkeys calling from the tree tops, Carter came into the livingroom looking for his key. Couldn't find it.
"One day? You couldn't make one day?"
This was not helpful, but squirted out my mouth before much thought. I mean, I don't start thinking well until the first cup of coffee and the turkeys hit the ground running.
Looked all day for it. Can't find it.
I'll take the sledge to the lock and see what happens.
Good kid, good bike, bad lock.
Their mother drove them to school, crestfallen that they could not ride their new bikes. Trav could have, his bike was unlocked, but there's a big brown dog on the road he can only handle under the protection of his oldest brother.
That's another story. I"ll let you know what happens if the key search tonight is unsuccesful, and what happens when a 6 pound sledge hits a hardened bolt.
Not the most exciting story, I know, just another day in Zortman and a lock.
munk
When we got there, I was astounded to see what you could get for 350 bucks. Yes, that's much more, probably even adjusted for inflation, then I ever got; but I did not live in the woods where a Mountain bike is a legitimate way to take advantage of the natural world. If you're going to live in Nowhere land, USA, you'd better be getting something out of what it does have, instead of what it does not; like shopping malls.
He could just make it on the smallest adult frame, but it really wasn't a good fit. I marveled at the disk brakes, front suspension, lightweight components and overall sophistication. Man, what a great time to be a kid and have a bike. A bike like that would have cost over a 1000 bucks 15 years ago. This is not like electronics; this is hardware. I'm very surprised the price is that low.
He had a glow on his face, and I knew he was happy and excited. My plan is for the lucky oldest to get the new bikes for Christmas and birthdays, while the youngest inherit them when outgrown at no cost to their prescious Christmas booty. It seems to be working. In the end, though, just before they tell me I'm a hopeless old man and leave home, I'll end up buying an adult bike for each of them. We can all ride cow trails then.
When we got home my friend from Lewistown called and said he might be able to talk the now too small bike away from his son. I mean, if the son would be so inclined. This was a little touchy. It turned out the son was willing, especially for a hundred bucks. That was a fair price for a kid's bike three years old. It did not have the disk brakes and doubtless other improvements, but it was made in the modern era and would be great- if Carter would accept the idea. I shouldn't have worried about that. When he got on the bike, the same glow I'd seen in the bike shop returned. A few scratches and some obstinate gears did not matter in the least. What a great kid.
We took the bike home, and that morning before school, when the sky was still dark and the turkey's still calling from the tree tops behind the house, I worked on the bike and got all the gears functioning. He got to ride to school that day, the small patches of snow and ice no obstacle.
Travis got a surprise too. I took the old black bike, cleaned it and adjusted the gear range, and left it by the school door for him to find, and ride home with his brother when school was out.
That night I found my old thick cable and lock. ONly one key,.
"Don't give him that," my wife said, "you know he'll just lose it."
"Well, a price of a bolt cutter is probably 20 bucks."
"That's too much. Don't give it to him."
Carter loved the lock and cable. He was so excited he locked the bike by the front tire to the workbench in the garage.
This morning, before full light and with the turkeys calling from the tree tops, Carter came into the livingroom looking for his key. Couldn't find it.
"One day? You couldn't make one day?"
This was not helpful, but squirted out my mouth before much thought. I mean, I don't start thinking well until the first cup of coffee and the turkeys hit the ground running.
Looked all day for it. Can't find it.
I'll take the sledge to the lock and see what happens.
Good kid, good bike, bad lock.
Their mother drove them to school, crestfallen that they could not ride their new bikes. Trav could have, his bike was unlocked, but there's a big brown dog on the road he can only handle under the protection of his oldest brother.
That's another story. I"ll let you know what happens if the key search tonight is unsuccesful, and what happens when a 6 pound sledge hits a hardened bolt.
Not the most exciting story, I know, just another day in Zortman and a lock.
munk
