Stuart

This is the story of my bike, Stuart:



Stuart is an old little bike. He was probably built sometime in the 1980's, but he is also a good little bike. He has gotten me where I needed to go in a relativley safe manner since I arrived in Amsterdam. Now as I said Stuart is old and Stuart is small. Sometimes the bigger, newer bikes make fun of Stuart because he can't keep up, but Stuart just keeps on going because sometimes its good to take things slow and not be in a hurry all the time.



For a couple of weeks now Stuart has been a little bit sick. His chain has been a little loose and so he's gotten kind of hard to pedal. So last week I took Stuart into the bike doctor to get his chain tightened. But the doctor was not very happy, you see somewhere along the line Stuart lost some spokes so his wheels were pretty week. The doctor fixed the chain, but said that it was going to take several hours of work to fix the spokes after he went to the market to buy new ones to replace the missing ones. He told me I would have to ride a different bike until he fixed it. I knew that I was going out of town the next day so I begged him to fix the chain and let me ride it for one more day and then he could have it to fix for the whole weekend. The doctor was very reluctant to agree and tried to give me a different bike, but this other bike was too big and I just couldn't betray my trusty Stuart and ride a different bike. After much pleading the doctor agreed to let me keep Stuart for one more day. Now that afternoon I really needed to go to get my visa pictures made so I headed off with Stuart to Waterlooplein in the city center. It's about a 15 minute bike ride from my house. Everything goes smoothly on the way there. I was very proud of Stuart as he bravely manuevered through traffic and unfamiliar territory. But on the way back things took a turn for the worst. As I rode I began to hear a strange thump sound, similar to the annoying sound that rolling luggage makes on cobblestone streets. At first I didn't realize what it was, then I looked down at Stuart. I had worked Stuart too hard. He had a flat tire.



Raindrops began to fall as I walked Stuart back to the house. I was embarassed when I had to admit to the bike doctor what had happened to Stuart after he told me not to ride him. Back to the shop Stuart went. But as the doctor worked he realized there were even more problems. Stuart needed a new tube for the tire and the valve on the tire was also broken. And the shop was out of the correct size of tube for my tires. I wasn't going to get the quick cure I had hoped for. Sadly I left Stuart with the doctor and rode to work the next morning on the back of a friends bike. I missed Stuart, but I was going away for the weekend and the doctor promised he would be better when I got back.



Well, the weekend came and went and I returned home to find Stuart still taken apart in the bike shop. I was very sad. What was I to do without my trusty bike? It might be days before he is fixed. Once again the doctor offered me a different bike. But I didn't want another bike, I wanted Stuart. None of the other bikes were as small or as old as Stuart. They just wouldn't do. But then on the top shelf of the bike rack, way at the far end in a dark corner, I saw it. Another small, old bike. This bike could be Stuarts brother only it didn't't have a flat tire or missing spokes. "Who's bike is that?" I asked.

"No one's, " he replied, "but we lost the key to the lock."

"Well, That is the bike I want. Can you cut the lock?"

Reluctantly the doctor cut the lock off the new bike. As he lifted it down from the rack I was very happy. This bike would never be Stuart, but it was a worthy substitute.



Stuart is still not fixed. Currently he is sitting in the basement of my house with one tire missing and the chain fallen off. But Stuart II is serving as a great living memory of his predessor.