Clutter Bin Series: White Cannondale

Status: Under Nicks ownership

This is the white Cannondale. I think its a eighty’s bike. Frankly I don’t know its and old bike. I just know when it was old dad got it sometime before I was born. In high school I commuted on this bikes sister, the black Cannondale and father and I would go on majestic bike rides with the him on this bike and me on the black. The bike itself had the most annoying squeak. It was coming from the bottom bracket. I am disappointed that the bearings and the grease only lasted 40 years tsk tsk. In the chaos of the divorce I took this bike to college and beyond this bike would be my daily exercise for much of college and my time in upstate New York and then Minneapolis…….lets talk about Minneapolis.

So I got a job at Physical Electronics as a field Engineer. This was a traveling job and there HQ was in the suburbs Minneapolis Minnesota. My GAWD Minneapolis the Minneapolis, The mini…e…..a….polis . If you don’t know Minneapolis it is the bicycle capital of the United States so when I was sent for training to go there I was overjoyed. I did nearly 300 miles of riding on the most beautiful bike paths that month…. but it was also very erry this was right after the George Floyd protest and the height of covid. Buildings were boarded up a curfew was in effect, aaand my cell was running out of battery and it was getting dark. Traffic was non-existent. After awhile I was lost and it was getting dark very dark but I knew the general direction. I was guiding myself via eco location using the noise from bottom bracket. (no that thing was just annoying)

If only I could see the water tower I said to myself and then my bike light went out. As my ride turn to a wonder, my rear bike light dropped and flopped into the road. As I stumbled around to look around the cell light flicker out. Just as my lights flickered out another light came on the horizon first it was white then the strobing of red and blue.

Me: “Hi officer, uhm you know how to get to Eden prairie I am not from around here and my phone is dead”

Officer: “………..yeah, its a left go a mile and a right” I stare blankly at him as he continues on with instructions for about a minute “then take a left a the light………….can I offer you a ride”

Me: “yeah, yeah. the bike look big but in breaks down easy. Totally fit in your car… don’t you worry I’ll make it work, I got this don’t you worry one bit. It will only take a minute. after, all I am just up the road. You are the absolute best”.

Officer opens trunk as I tear down the bike.

Officer ” I think you can place the wheels …on top of the riot gear”

Me: “oh yeah of course I thing I can squeeze it in between that helmet the shield and let me just move that batten, oh my it smells a lot like pepper spray”

The officer then opens the back of the police car. That my friends was the first time I rode in back of a police car, it was the most uncomfortable ride in my life…..The partially disassembled bicycle poking my side, front, back, face, and foot didn’t help. There I was in back of the police car with the bike frame on top of me giving the best directions I could back to the hotel. There was a bit of conversation about the protest I just mentioned that hopefully it all gets resolved peacefully……… This was a week after the police station was burned down.

I finally made it back to the hotel said my thank you.

Eventually my time in Minnesota was coming to an end. So I packed up the bike and got ready to leave for New York. Only that I was running late.. latest type of late. Then I turned in my rental car on the wrong side of the airport. When I finally got to the check in. It was too late for check bag or in my case check bike. So I simply told the security guard the situation and that (the box doesn’t contain anything nefarious)…….and left the whole bike at the Airport, I had too, a new ticket would by far exceed the value of the bike. (approx $100). I left Minneapolis not knowing the future of the bicycle. My phone number was hastily written on the side of the box was the only string that connected it to me. Other than that it was now nobody’s bike.

I phoned my brother about it during my layover he was flabbergasted. I didn’t care too much as I recently got a new bike and never quite like this one. Conversation went like this

“I left the bike in the Minneapolis airport”

“Bro, you gotta get that bike its a Chirico relic. Its Dads bike”

“Too late man, its just too late” Or so I thought”

About a day or so later apparently Minneapolis has a lost and found a quick description one week and $43.53 wired through the most sketchiest part of the Minneapolis airport website, The bike was reunited with me. Then, I proceeded to replace the goddam Bottom Bracket