Hi Liesl,

This is the best story (meaning true story) I have heard in years.  Really.
Also I can visualize things as you come up (I imagine) on the SE corner of
Powderhorn Park, heading west.  Protovelo in the lead.  Erin's green 58
Quickbeam following behind to provide support and phone service.

Gotta love a purple Cougar.  People required to drive them gotta be bad to
complete the package.  Just the way it is.

May I fill our kind readers in on the fact that you are not a hulk?

Seriously folks, a person of huge kindness, generosity and wit but of
smaller stature.  She knew what to do to get the job done but it was not her
menacing size that convinced the Cougar-Based Bandit to give it up.  It was
the cleverness of letting him know she was serious about nailing him plus
her ability to ride fast in these horrible conditions.  We set a record
today for the highest dew point, 82, since 1966.

Nice work, Liesl.

I will search my workshop for a modest reward for your excellent
achievement.  Leave it on the doorstep, probably in a Target bag.  I'll find
something in the next day or two.

Best,

John



On Tue, Jul 19, 2011 at 9:10 PM, Liesl <li...@smm.org> wrote:

> Despite this record-breaking heat and humidity here in the Twin
> Cities, my partner Erin on her Quickbeam and I on my single-speed
> Proto-Bleriot elected to do our 20-mile round trip commute to work.
> The ride home was 98 degrees with a dew point at about 80 degrees…this
> put the heat index up somewhere like 100-115 degrees.  Right balmy.
> Two blocks from home, as I’m looking forward to air conditioning and a
> cold one, all hell broke loose.
>
> Up in front of me is a maroon Mercury Cougar, and I’m thinking, “When
> did I last see a Cougar?”  As I’m gazing, the car slows down and a
> young man hops out to go to the convenience store.  I wait to see if
> the Cougar is going to park, but no, it just keeps going.  As we
> proceed down the road, a bicycle passes me, and then I hear yelling
> behind me.  I turn back to see another young man running like the
> blazes shouting, “That guy stole my bike!  Stop him!  That guy stole
> my bike!”  It’s the dude from the Cougar who had passed me on the
> bike!
>
> So I stood up and bore down hard on my peddles in hot pursuit. He was
> riding on the sidewalk next to a big park and I was just behind him in
> the street.  After about 3-4 blocks he started to fade—remember it was
> literally close to 100 degrees—and I caught up to him.
>
> “You stole that bike!” I yelled fiercely.  It was clear that he wasn’t
> aware that I had been on his heels.  “You stole that bike!  Just drop
> it and walk away,” I commanded.  His grin faded ever so slightly.
>
> “I see you,” I continued sternly (albeit between gulps of air).  “I
> see your face, I see your clothes, I see the number on your jersey.”
> His grin dimmed.  I looked at his bare arm.  “I see your tattoo,” I
> said and looked him in the eye.  “I see you.  Drop the bike and walk
> away.”  He knew the tattoo meant I could ID him.  He looked away,
> dropped the bike, and wobbled off, his legs spent.
>
> A dude in the park had watched the whole thing and called out, “Whoa!
> You just caught that guy and made him give up the bike, man!  You
> chased him down in this heat, and you made him drop the bike.  You
> beat him and you’re twice his age, man!”
>
> Erin rode up, having stopped to call 911, and the young man who owned
> the bike came up huffing and puffing and was ever thankful to have the
> bike back.
>
> Most of the time, I count myself as one of the slower people out there
> on a commute filled with lycra-clad boys riding carbon racers.  At 52,
> I’m all for bike lingering.  But today, I busted it out at the end of
> a scalding hot ride and beat a kid who in all likelihood was not two
> but three times younger than me, and I caught up to him when it
> counted and got a stolen bike back.
>
> Feels damn good.
>
> Yours,
> Liesl
> a.k.a. RivChicaWarrior, Superhero!
>
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-- 
John Blish
Minneapolis MN USA

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