A stolen bike.

Here is a story of my daughters stolen bike.

A few weeks ago, my daughters bike was stolen from our yard. We normally lock all the bike up, but in the heat of playing, it was missed. We woke up that Saturday and her and my son wanted to bike over to the library to check out some books, but when she went outside, her bike was gone. Everything else was still there, my wife's bike, my sons bike, and even my bike were still there. I had the kids go out and check the immediate neighborhood seeing if it was just ridden by one of the local kids and ditched, but nothing was found.

I had my wife call the police to report it in a chance they ran across it, but they had not. My daughter was very upset about her bike being stolen, and her mother and I were even more upset that we couldn't replace it because of lack of money. I went to work that afternoon looking at every bike I saw hoping to see her bike. I also told my wife to drive around town and see if she could find it.

All night I was thinking about my daughters bike. We spent a lot of money on her bike so we knew she was on something safe, and something which she could use to visit friends, go to school, and other kid things which require them to leave our house. All I could do was wait for my shift to be over so I could look for her bike. It was so much more then a bike to her and also to me. It was her first new bike, not a used bike or a hand me down from someone else. She picked it out and we had it special ordered just for her so she had exactly what she wanted. To anyone else, this bike was nothing special, but to her, it was her pride and joy. She had raced up and down the mountain in our town along with her brother and her friends. Some of her favorite memories since moving here as a new family were on that bike. I was going to do whatever I could to get that bike back.

Finally, I got off of work. I headed home having a plan to find the bike. Once I got into town, I started traveling every street on the north side slowly looking at every bike. When I saw anything which resembled her bike, I shined my headlights on it to see if it was hers. I spent a few hours with no luck. Once the sun started to rise in the distance, I headed home to go get some sleep for the next day at work. When I arrived, my wife was just getting up for her work, and I told her of all the places I had searched, and asked her where she had looked. Nothing.

I awoke the next afternoon still with the bike on my mind. I felt the drive and passion to find that which others either didn't know unless they had hunted for something hiding from them. I remembered all the people I hunted over the years, and knew that the key was to never give up, and to try every option. I spent time with the kids making sure they were doing OK, and seeing what they were up to. I could tell just by looking that both of them were upset and sad about our loss of her bike. I called my wife to see if she had gotten a call from the police hoping they ran across it while doing their other duties, but no such luck. I don't know why I did this as I knew my daughters bike was only important to us, and not to anyone else. A bit later my wife called and said she was almost home, and with that I got ready for work.

Again at work, all I could think of was getting my daughters bike back. I thought of where I would go, and where the best places to look could be. The night went fast, and once I punched out of work, I was back on my mission. Since I did most of the north side of town the night before, I headed to the south side. Again, I went to every park, playground, and place kids hung out. I saw hundreds of bikes, but still no sign of hers. I kept looking. I never lost a man when hunting them, so I would be damned if a bike would slip away from me. More memories came back to me. Most this night revolved around when I had a bike stolen. I treasured that bike. I worked so hard for the money for it. I had mowed lawns, raked leaves, moved gravel for my neighbor, split lumber, worked at the pool, and even saved up money I was supposed to spend on lunch. It took me a long time, as kids do not always get paid a good wage, but it was honest money, my money, and I earned it with sweat and blisters. My mother took me the day we bought it to the bike store. Everyone at the shop knew which bike was going to be mine. I had test rode it many times. I even had a poster of it on my wall. I put down my cash, and had enough left over for riding gloves. My mother asked if we could put it in the car, and I said "No way, bikes are for riding!" as I sped off hoping to beat her home. I felt like the wind. I was going as fast as each gear would take me. I jumped curbs, launched off of any bump I could find, and when I came to a stop, I locked the rear brakes grab firm feeling it skid. So, as I said before, I treasured this bike. I didn't have a car, but now, I didn't care. I kept it clean, and I kept it nice. When I had time, I hunted down hills in the woods to ride, looking for new dirt trails I had never rode before, and sometimes just headed out across fields because I knew this bike could handle anything I wanted to ride. Then one night, I had forgotten something at a friends house while visiting. I turned back riding in the dark to his house to get my things. I arrived, and put the bike between his house and the garage out of any ones eyes. I ran in, and I ran right out. In a minute, my bike was gone. Apparently either someone saw me riding it and liked it, or cut through my friends yard from the alley and happened across it. I ran out into the street to see if I could see them riding away. Nothing. I checked all around his house, and down the alley. I even went back in to ask if he or his brother hid it to mess with me. Neither of them understood what I was saying until they realised my bike was stolen. I called my mom for a ride home. She asked why and I told her. She came and got me. When I got in the car she asked me a question, but in my remorse of losing my hard earned bike, I yelled. After that we drove home in silence. I remember crying to sleep that night. I understood my daughters pain.

I drove up every alley, down every street looking at all the bikes in peoples yards. I was jealous that it was my daughters bike that was taken and it appeared like everyone else had theirs. I was think of going home, as I could see light in the far off sky signaling the coming day. I decided to do a couple more streets and call it done for another day. I have always hated calling a hunt off with nothing to show. Even if you go back out to hunt again, it feels like a failure. And this night was going to be just that, a failure. I finished my last street and turned towards home feeling the burning I get when I fail. I had failed my daughter, my wife, my son, and myself. The burn turned to sadness as I drove slowly home until...

What was that? Behind a bush I caught a glimpse of a flash. Was this someone else's bike? I turned the car to get some light on what I saw. The shape was right, the color was right. I got out of the car and lit up the bike with my flashlight. It was the right brand, and it was the right model, and then the tell. It had my daughters bike lock wrapped around the frame! Victory. I called the police to see if they needed a report, or if I could just take it home. The lady at the dispatch said "Good Job". I picked it up and placed it in the back of my car. I headed home feeling good again, worthy again, and even better than those I thought about how happy she would be.

I got home, took the bike out of the car. I placed it with the others and went inside. I woke my daughter up and asked her "Where is the key to your bike lock?". She looked at me with tired eyes and asked why. I explained to her because she needed to go and lock up her bike right away before it disappeared again. She bounded out of her bed, found her key, and ran outside to lock up her bike. After she was done, she grabbed me and gave me the tightest hug I have ever gotten from her as she said, "I love you dad!"

I will do anything for my step kids and my wife. I love them, and I know they love me. A year ago I went from being a single man to being a family. I hope you all know this kind of love.