Two weeks ago, it was me and Mr. Crunchy. He still left something to be desired, but we've been through a lot together. He's been like a faithful hound who occasionally stumbles into a porcupine or digs a hole in the flower bed. Could do better, but overall a good companion.
All of which changed on a fateful Thursday night while I decided just to check the local Craigslist ads. I had a specific year, make, model and price range I was searching for on a whim, and the ad at the top of the list met all criteria. Oh dear.
I called the next day to see if I could arrange a test ride (the bike had been traded in to a car dealership). I was told I could, so I then called my credit union to see what funding options I had. Turns out, I had some pretty good options, dang it! Went by Friday night to see the bike, but they would not let me test ride it...the original person on the phone had sounded unsure, and turns out he was uninformed as well. I got to sit on the bike. Start the bike. Listen to the bike. Look at the bike. Me likey.
Monday, I called my insurance company to add the bike to my policy, thinking this would be a good ace to have when I decided to call back and hash out something for the test ride. Called the dealership Tuesday to see what could be done, and the only deal they would consider was if they were legally unconnected with the bike and released from all liability during my test ride.
Basically, I had to buy the bike on paper before they'd let me take it out. Once I returned from the ride, it was up to me whether or not I would go to the next step, and complete the title work, or if Mr. McKinney would hand me back my envelope of Benjamins he had retained in his pocket during my ride, and then tear up the bill of sale.
After a 20+ mile test ride, I got back and looked the bike over, hemmed and hawed a bit, but he said not one word to sway me hither or yon. I decided to go ahead and take the plunge but left the bike there Wednesday night, riding back home on Mr. Crunchy (who suddenly seemed possessed of very mushy brakes). On Thursday, my neighbors took me back out to the dealership so I could ride the new bike home.
It felt like one of those strangely grown-up decisions to make. I hate leaving my first bike, my first love, but I know this is a good bike for my next step, and the more I ride him, the more I like him (a good thing). When I got back home Thursday night, I was thinking about what name would be good for him, and 'Clyde' popped into my head. It's growing on me, although I'm not 100% on it yet.
At any rate, here he is. More details will follow about the smokin' deal I got, but without further ado, I present...Clyde (maybe)
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