Slo Joe "Cogitations"   
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Distance: 7.40 miles Time: 00:35:00 Avg Speed: 12.69 mph
Max Speed: 18.60 mph Weight: 157 Effort: 3 - Moderate 11-13 mph
Route:   Altitude Gain: 0 ft Terrain: Road: Flat
Bike: Bacchetta Giro 20 (SOLD Aug 15, 2014) SWB Bent Club: 'BentRider Recumbent Club
Weather Conditions: HOTISH
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 Just A Bike
"Just A Bike".

On the morning of April 15th, I had one of those "this canít be happening" moments. As I opened the interior house door to the garage, my self said: "Self, the garage door is open." Thatís weird. Glancing over where my bike should be, there was no bike. My mind kept saying: "There is supposed to be a yellow modified for travel V-Rex leaning against the work bench." My self kept saying "Itís not there." My mind: "Are you sure? Look again."

No matter how many times I looked my bike was stolen. Gone. It just isnít there.

Told myself: "Itís just a bike."

With a kick in my gut feeling all day I did the stolen bike thing:
Called police to file a police report
Printed out flyers with a pic to all bike stores.
Called pawn shops.
Posted flyers along the typical cycling paths.
Kept looking where my bike was hoping it would magically appear.

Kept telling myself: "Itís just a bike."

Wait a minute. Iíve had this bike for over twelve years. Then I started remembering.

Itís not just a bike. It was my Conestoga Wagon on Ragbrai ferrying me from the Missouri River to the Mississippi River. Okay, so Conestoga wagons went from east to west. Small details. I crossed the expanse of Iowa on my bike passing cornfields, alfalfa fields, and easily recognizable from a long way off hog farms. It blazed trails for me.

Itís not just a bike. In North Dakota it was my trusty horse galloping by fertile farmlands and wheat crops and across rolling grasslands. It showed me the big sky, the Red River Valley and the Drift Prarie.

Itís not just a bike. In New York, it was my packet boat and I was the horse power trudging along passing locks and lift bridges. It helped me explore old canal side towns, including the birthplace of the Colt revolver, something Iíd love to show right now to the bike thief.

Itís not just a bike. Living in Qatar it was my Dromedary Taxi, taking me across the desert and showing me the Khor al Adaid ("Inland Sea") along the Persian Gulf.

Itís not just a bike. When I was working in Florida it was my Ponce DeLeon exploration ship, taking be up and down the eastern coast in search of my own fountain of youth. Yes, cycling keeps the kid in ya. No question.

One thing is for sure: It's not "just a bike".


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