Eulogy for the Ash Maiden

The Ash Maiden was stolen in May. I'd forgotten where I'd parked her, so by the time I'd checked all of the possible places she could have been, realizing that she had been stolen was a little anticlimactic. She was locked, but that's never seemed to stop professional bike thieves before, so I didn't have any illusions.

Bike theft statistics tell us that the average Davis student will have their bicycle stolen once in the four years they attend university, so my experience is in perfect keeping with the norm. I hear about stolen bikes on a periodic basis on Facebook. People always seem so angry, finding the most horrible words they can think of to describe the faceless thief. I haven't been so disposed. My reaction to finding the Ash Maiden was not anger, just sadness.

My lock was flimsy, but I wasn't going to get a new one. When I got her I figured she was either too shabby to steal or I'd suck it up. I have no regrets.

I can't imagine what the thief must have looked like or been thinking when they took her. They must have had good taste. When I tell people of my loss I have either been met with "I'm so, so sorry. I know how much that bike meant to you" or "They took that piece of junk?" Actually, the Maiden was probably worth a hundred and fifty dollars. That value was stoked by the popularity of converting old road bikes to fixies. Anyways, I hope she ends up in a good home.

No object has ever so eloquently embodied my four years at Davis. Biking has been my simplest pleasure and substitute for wave riding. Both Howard and Brandon eventually switched to road bikes after seeing my passion for riding the Maiden long and hard every day. Incidentally this is also the conclusion of the longest-running inside joke we had. The Maiden embodied our household's dumpster-chic aesthetic with her pervasive rust, grinding gears, hand-made bullhorns and junky extra reflectors.

Early in my freshman year I rode with Caius from Daly City to Santa Cruz, an amazing adventure that deserves retelling on this forum. In my four years riding her, I crashed four times. In no instance did I collide with another bicyclist or car-- every one was completely on me. Two were from taking turns too aggressively, the other two for occupying my hands with things and then trying to brake one-handed. I never got to compete in an organized race on her. I never biked the entire length of the American River Parkway, or to Berkeley on her. I hardly ever rode her with a proper bike light.

I bought a new bike on Craigslist, a black road bike for $180. I dropped another $80 on some basic accessories-- bike light, a decent seat, a new inner tube, a lock. We're provisionally calling him Smoky, because he totally reeks of cigarettes. I didn't even know bicycles could carry smells. The change of gender was conscious, btw.