My daughter had a recent need for a bicycle. After we got it road-ready, I found myself warning her, “If someone wants to steal your bike, give it to them. Don’t get hurt over something as dumb as a bicycle.” After she reminded me what kind of lily-white crime free neighborhood she lives in now, I had to think for a minute. Then, I looked around and I was definitely talking about my neighborhood.
It took me back to some of my bestest bike riding experiences. One of my first was defying my parents and biking down to Westwood Mall – in the middle of the dried out Braes Bayou. Another was my 70’s banana seat Raleigh – 
– that managed to be stolen three separate times. Each time, I found it further and further away. Once, leaning against a house at the end of the block. The other time I found it at Westbury Square, where I worked for a while at The Company Onstage. The last time I’m not sure where it went. Odd walking in such a remote area from my home and seeing such a distinctive bike. “Hey! That’s my bike!” I googled it, but it was such a weird bike that I’ll probably never find it.
Then there was my black Huffy. My ultimate pre-car bicycle was my Mongoose. Ahh…..my Mongoose.
The Mongoose was subject to many a schoolyard debate on the merits of…..uh….whatever we could throw at it. “Mongoose vs Diamondback” My first Mongoose was stolen by a kid who lived next to our elementary school. My second looked just like this:
What a great looking bike. Lightweight and chromed out, it was a gorgeous bike. I ended up taking the bike with me to New Zealand where it was (unbeknownst to me) the Rolls Royce of bikes. I rode it to school two times. After the stares and envious looks, my theft paranoia got the best of me and I walked the 1.988 miles instead.
I just looked at that map – in no way is that 1.988 miles flat – there’s a 40 degree slope on both sides of Cumberland. We called that “Cumberland Hill”. It is in fact the largest hill I’ve ever had to traverse in any school bound travels. So when I tell my daughter “it was uphill both ways!”, in a way it really was.
So that second Mongoose actually was nearly stolen once, then was completely stolen the second time – although I got it back. The first time is when my friend Jeremy and I were riding to Sharpstown Mall (that’s a LONG ride from my house). We were walking our bikes through the mud and this kid comes up, grabs my bike and pushes me down. I was so astonished, I wasn’t sure what was happening. So I grabbed the back tire (not smart, but it wasn’t moving). I yanked and he pulled out a screwdriver. “Let go!” “No!” “Let go!”. He then kind of stabbed the tire with the screwdriver but it just bounced off.
By that point I had figured out what he was trying to do and I was freaking out. Somehow this lady way across the street started yelling at this kid, “Hey! I see you! Where’s your momma!” I was so startled I yelled, “At home!” The big kid kind of muttered then let go of my bike.
The second time was actually pretty anticlimactic. In my junior year of high school, I get this knock on the door. At the door is a police officer and two kids. The police officer asks me if anything has been stolen out of the garage. I tell him I have no idea. He gives me the look like, “Say yes you idiot.” He then tells me that these kids admitted that they stole my Mongoose. Of course I didn’t notice, I’d been driving a car since then. The only thing left on it that was original was the frame. The cool lightweight rims were long gone.Later, one of my friends that worked with me at Meyerland General Cinema asked if he could have it so I gave it to him.
He said that the guy at the bike shop was amazed, “This is one of the first Chrome framed Mongooses!!”
I miss that bike.
