Damn you Sequim!

Remember how my bike got stolen a few months back? A couple weeks ago I was very excited to get a phone call from the Eugene police saying that a crack patrolman from the Sequim Police had recovered said beloved mountain bike from the local skate park.

As we were going to be in lovely Vancouver BC, I told them "Great! I'll come pick it up." I thought, I thought I asked them about the model and color and does it have a grocery basket and bar ends and all that.

After waiting for 45 minutes outside the strip mall police headquarters (just where did the first person who answered the phone disappear to?), we were finally let in. The sound of the (extremely skinny) officer wheeling a bike down the hall soon followed. And into the room came a kid's red and yellow rusty Gary Fischer. Curses! All I can figure is that someone transposed a number when entering it into the stolen bike database. Or maybe when I registered it with the University (which is who I called to get the number the morning of the theft) the number was read off wrong. Lydia thinks my bike may still be in the property room in Sequim (but the paperwork attached to the bike matched the bike and me).

Regardless, it was a lovely day of ferry rides.

And thank you to our hosts in Seattle and Vancouver! It was a lovely weekend that perhaps I will write about later.