You can file this day under: Bad Day.

I’m not in a good mood right now, so I apologize for the meh-ness of this entry. But please allow me to vent, as you’ll see, I have a right to vent.

On Thursday morning, I went to go check on the Worksman Cycle Truck. Because we don’t have enough room in the garage, it’s been stored outside the apartment, in a covered bike parking area near the laundry room/mailboxes in our apartment complex. I’ve locked it out there for the past few months without incident.


Yep, that’s right. There’s no saddle. Gone.

And of course it was a nice saddle: my sprung Brooks B67, honey colored.

I’m a mix of emotions. Of course I’m pissed off. I feel violated. And I feel stupid.

I didn’t really want to keep the bike outside, in case something like this happened. But there was no room in the garage. So I locked the bike as best as I could, and would check it every day or two.

I should have removed the saddle, and I feel stupid that I didn’t. But I did lock it to the frame via a cable lock. That didn’t stop a determined thief. They simply snipped through the cable, removed saddle, and off they went.

From January, when the saddle was still on the Cycle Truck.

It could have happened any time over the past few days, I’m not exactly sure when. It was most likely stolen by someone who knows what these saddles are worth. And who realized this bike has been parked there for a bit. Who knows, it could be someone else in the apartment complex.

I checked Craigslist, nothing. I went around to some local shops, those that were either in the immediate vicinity to my apartment or those who deal in used parts. No one has recently bought a Brooks saddle nor turned away anyone suspicious trying to sell one. And what can I do, really? Unlike bikes, there isn’t a serial number on a Brooks saddle, nor distinguishing characteristics that could positively identify the saddle as my own.

I’m just going to have to chalk this up to “character building”. I had hoped that cable-locking the saddle would have been an effective enough deterrent, but not in this case. Some folks have recommended using a bicycle chain to lock the saddle. While this would be beefier than a cable lock, a determined thief can still break it either with bolt cutters or a chain tool. All of these things are deterrents, what I really should have done was remove the saddle for outside storage.

The only bright side (if one could call it that) is they didn’t steal the bike itself. It had quite the beefy ABUS chain/wheel lock combo, so that would have been tougher than removing the saddle. But the Cycle Truck is a unique bike, easily spotted. A Brooks saddle? Not as much. A thief would have had a harder time moving it. And the B67 on the Cycle Truck was my least favorite of the current Brooks saddles I own, but it’s not like I wanted it to get stolen.

And I feel like this theft is the last nail in the coffin for the Cycle Truck. I’ve been thinking about selling it for a few months. I still like how it looks, but I barely use the bike. I never find the need. It’s a beast and it takes effort to get anywhere on it. If I was doing regular big runs to the grocery store, it would be one thing. But with two markets in walking distance and runs to places like Trader Joes effectively covered with either the LHT or Wayfarer with panniers? I never find the need to haul that much stuff with it. So it might be for sale soon.

9 thoughts on “You can file this day under: Bad Day.

Add yours

  1. I'm sorry it happened to you,my friend. It matters not if you didn't like it as much as the others in your stash…the point is,it was YOURS and someone stole it. I hope you feel better soon though,Spring's upon us,don't let this dampen your sunny days coming :)Steve(The Disabled Cyclist)

  2. Darn, that's just plain mean! I have locking skewers on my saddle and wheels but only on one of my bikes. The trick is to remember the 'key' just in case I need to change my tire, etc.

  3. Aww, that sucks!If I were a mysterious old Gypsy, I would curse the thief to ride on the saddle and develop terrible saddle sores, and then to have them mistaken for an STD outbreak in some terribly embarrassing and public manner — possibly in front of a parent and a new crush at the same time.

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