New Town, New Wheels

I've landed in Long Beach, California. I moved here in May to go out on whale watch boats and collect data & photographs, focusing on the blue whales that have followed summer krill blooms to Long Beach for the past decade. Boats, photos, and whales is a heck of a triple play, and so with a little (OK a lot) of planning crammed into a few short weeks, I said yes and leaped.

I hit the ground running. Several orders of business were pressing, and highly motivated by principles outlined by Maslow: housing, food, transportation, work, dog, friends. Having found an apartment share online, I took a shuttle to the street address and dropped my bags. Shortly after, I set to the business of tracking down some wheels.

My 1/4th of a spacious apartment is about three miles north of the beach, and six miles north-east of work. Not an insurmountable distance on a bike and with the bus, but too far to hoof it. My first purchase was a beach cruiser. Sexy and comfortable, shiny and trendy, she was a beaut. I called her Ollie, inspired by the "Oliver" Cadet of Top Gear Fame. But just as with Hammond's ill-fated ride, the beach cruiser soon left me crying out in despair, "Olliiiivveeeeerrrr!!!"

She rattled. The seat picked up a squeak in the springs that began as mildly annoying and quickly progressed to embarrassing. The seat shaft also twisted, but generally only when I needed to make a turn in traffic. The pedals began to look worryingly flimsily attached to the rest of the bike. Basically, within days the lovely new Ollie was rattling apart.

The fine chaps at the department store where I'd bought her accepted the return without a hitch, seeming completely unsurprised to see me back. I began scouring Craigslist, and quickly located a refurbished commuter bike, a Giant Attraction. Being unfamiliar with the brand, I cued the music and did some research. Very little turned up, save one glowingly positive review calling it a little-known but indestructible commuter bike. Sold on the idea, I took a very long bus ride out to check out the proffered wheels. The Giant isn't new, or shiny, but the frame is sleek, strong, and exactly my size. All her parts were attached well and well made, the rims were new, and the brakelines good. I coughed up the cash and pedaled away, the proud owner of a new Giant. 

Weeks passed and untold miles sped under the skinny road tires. The Giant and are inseparable. Still unsure about the name, I wrapped a Life is Good bumper sticker wrapped around her frame. She now reads "Giant Action."

Wheels rockin' and rollin', I was in business, and still am. My dog flew out to join me and the apartment is quickly becoming home. Hello, Long Beach!