Beggars Would Ride
Hierarchy Of Needs
The sound of a car horn blaring its familiar signature semaphore of intrusion woke me up at little before 4 that morning. Saturday, November 18th. I had crossed the border on Thursday, snuck a Noble Canyon solo ride in a lucky-for-the-SoCal-desert rainy conditions, and then, crusty from days of driving and a wet bike ride, had made a beeline for a fancy hotel in Del Mar to wash the grime off and treat myself to some high thread-count sheets. Four days of dirtbagging followed by a night of hot tubbing and comfortable bedding feels like a good life balance to me. An acceptable compromise to a softening dirtbag.
The intermittent blaring lasted about five seconds, then stopped. A car started, and drove out from the parking garage of the swank hotel. Must’ve been a groggy early-morning guest hitting the wrong key button before coffee, I thought, before falling back asleep.
At 7 I got up and took the dog down to the truck to feed her and head out on our usual morning walking exploration. It was cold, for the first time in months, and I looked forward to fishing my battered and patched Patagonia down puffy jacket out of one of the gear bags stashed in the back of my truck.
Empty parking spot. Broken glass. No truck. No dog food. No puffy jacket. Fuck. I didn’t even know my truck had an alarm, but apparently if you break the passenger window of a 2023 Ford Ranger when it is locked, it tries to let you know. Cue police reports, commence lengthy and byzantine insurance wrangling.
I had everything in that truck. All my riding gear, most of the clothes that I consider wearable, a carefully built and hideously expensive tool roll, all my camping gear, a long list of “this is now the vehicle you live out of” perceived necessities, and my dog food. And my Patagonia puffy. Staring at the empty parking spot and the broken glass, I was too stunned at that time to register outrage or violation. All that ran through my head was “gonna need some dog food” and “damn, I really liked that puffy.”
There was a bike as well. Locked to the bike rack that was locked to the truck that was in a parking garage of a semi-fancy hotel in fancy ass Del Mar. Yes, that was stupid of me. I will own that.
If you are gonna have a last ride on a bike without knowing it'll be a last ride, there are fewer places better for that last ride than Noble Canyon in the rain.
That was almost three weeks ago. And in that time, I have had ample opportunity to explore the physiological component of Maslow’s Hierarchy Of Needs. My nest got jacked. I was left with two pairs of long pants, my hot tub shorts, three t-shirts, and a wool pullover. Fortunately my laptop, toothbrush, passport, wallet and phone were all with me, but that was about the extent of it.
Here’s what I learned:
It gets pretty easy to wear the same t-shirt for five days in a row when you only have three of them and aren’t sure when the next laundromat may appear. Hotel sinks work okay to rinse them out, but the five day funk does not surrender easily to bar soap and hand scrubbing.
It’s even easier to wear the same pants for five days in a row. But pants are way harder to clean in a hotel sink than t-shirts. In this new reductive state of existence, the same rule applies to both pants and shirts – be way more careful eating road food. The cavalier dismissal of food stains by swapping out to a clean shirt is not an option here.
So many necessities are not. Meaning, they aren’t as necessary as I thought they were. They were, more correctly, evolved niceties. They were things that made my life easier or more comfortable, but in terms of straight up survival? Meh. Those Smith Guide sunglasses? They were awesome, definitely better than squinting into the glare of the setting sun while driving west on I-70 somewhere near Richfield, Utah, but squinting does the job. That Yeti cooler? Hard to miss it when there isn’t a truck to stash it in anymore. Good thing gas stations and convenience stores have huge refrigerators. Amazing how palatable warm soda can be when there isn’t a cooling option. Those bags of Skratch Labs electrolyte juice powder? Don’t have much need for them when you don’t have a bike anymore, or a water bottle. With each realized disappeared possession, there would be a pang of regret, then I would sigh and let it go. Keep moving, I would say to myself. No point crying over spilled milk, my mom would have said to me.
So I kept moving. Satisfied that one physical component of the hierarchy. Bought a car, and drove the fuck away from Del Mar. Up to Salinas, where a storage unit held the rest of my life that wasn’t in my truck, all the heavy objects that have accumulated over the past couple decades crammed into 600 square feet of cinder block and metal. There was also a brand new bike there, built just before having to hit the eject button to go down to Mexico back in October. I am now incredibly thankful for that storage unit, but aside from this bike, I am beginning to question the worth of the rest of what is stored there.
I grabbed the bike, found some clothes, unearthed an old sleeping bag, and kept on driving. Into the snow, into the rain. Hotel to couch to hotel to couch, banging out affidavits of theft and inventories of loss from coffee shops and spare bedrooms, and realizing with each passing day that so much of what I own(ed) also owns me. It’s disorienting, having all your shit stolen. But it can also be liberating.
Yesterday was the first time I rode a bike since that ride in Noble Canyon. It was so. Damn. Good. All the angst and white noise of confusion and loss and violation and red tape frustration dissipated into sweat and dust and lactic acid. As it always has, the simple act of riding a bike quiets the raging noises in my head, smooths the jagged irrational lumps of hurt and shame and shoulda-woulda-coulda. I can pedal a bike up a nuggety doubletrack and point it down a stairsteppy puzzle of rocks and ledges and, even though I forget this simple truism over and over and have to relearn it constantly, that is enough to bring me happiness back into my life.
If the cosmos is urging me to simplify my life via radical involuntary Marie Kondo reductionism, then may as well keep it sorta simple, right? New whip finally tastes its first dirt. More on that later.
I’ve never been shot or stabbed or mugged. I’m a white male, I’ve never felt the horrific violation of sexual abuse. I’ve never had my house broken into, and aside from a couple random smash and grabs, I’ve never had a car stolen until now. I had just spent a month carefully tending a 95 year old woman who is surviving her first experience with breast cancer, and the day my truck got stolen I found out a good friend was just diagnosed with synovial sarcoma. In light of all this, a stolen truck is just a thing. An object. The stuff inside that truck are just things as well, inanimate matter. Life is going to serve up far more brutal lessons than the loss of some stuff.
“All I need are some tasty waves, a cool buzz, and I’m fine.” That teenage antihero, poet laureate of 80’s stoners, Jeff Spicoli, was onto something. I am intact. I am whole. I’ve got my bike. I’ve got my dog. I’m fine.
Still kinda bummed about the puffy, though.
Comments
Vik Banerjee
5 months ago
Sorry to hear that Mike. The shock of being robbed sucks. I always felt more vulnerable staying at a hotel on a road trip with my loaded truck in the parking lot than camping. That's kinda funny and kinda sad.
I had a whole house worth of valuables stolen back in '94. I learned two things from that 1) Good insurance is more important than good locks/security [I came out way ahead replacing old stuff with new] and 2) it's only stuff, they make more of it.
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Cr4w
5 months ago
Especially if you get to keep the most important things: dog, health, house keys, computer and phone. Easy enough to put the pieces back together from there.
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Jimothy.benson
5 months ago
I managed to make it into my 40s without needing to know what an MCL or an LCL was or why they were important to elbow stability. I have friends who didn't make it out of high school without learning that lesson so I'm lucky in a way..
That said, around the same time your truck was stolen Mike I was lying on my back on a mat looking at a bizarre new protrusion out of my left elbow (later learned it was what they call "the radial proximal extremity" dislocated from its home beside the ulna), seeing my left hand facing at an impossible angle away from my body, tapping out of that match, and right away starting the process of slow-motion compiling a list of things that are infinity easier with 2 hands. Ever try flossing when you can't touch your face? Nevermind opening the damn toothpaste after...
Now coming up on 5 weeks later of no bikes, a couple lessons learned (or previous learnings at least reinforced):
1. Bikes - even if only for commuting - help keep the head level;
2. A lot of things we take for granted - the aforementioned flossing but also things like doorknobs, picking up kids, carrying small bags, putting on clothes - can be be taken away in an instant;
3. A positive attitude is priceless.
Here's to holding a handlebar again by spring...
Always appreciate your insights into life disguised as bicycle content, keep them coming.
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Cr4w
5 months ago
I love getting new stuff but last time I had a bike stolen I remember clearly being more upset about the months of adjustments, bracketing and tweaking it took to get that bike running just so way more than the physical machine itself. "It's going to take a long time to find another bike and then go through all that setup again" I thought dejectedly. I think we all put a lot of ourselves into these rigs that's way more than just gear. It's a kind of emotional investment and the bike becomes and extension of us. That makes the violation of theft felt so acutely.
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Mike Ferrentino
5 months ago
In this case some of that personal violation was mollified by the fact that it was a test bike that got jacked. Although, that paved the way for a tidal wave of shame and regret for not taking better care of someone else's bike, along with a heavy mea culpa. If it has been my Falconer hardtail, or my old skip-tooth Schwinn, I might still be stalking the borderlands like Tommy Lee Jones, a knife between my teeth, peering at the ground looking for footprints or tire tracks and muttering darkly about fate and justice...
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Cr4w
5 months ago
Didn't TLJ make his own knife from scratch in that movie?
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Lacy Kemp
5 months ago
Don't worry about the test bike. It happens. More often than you'd think.
Being violated sucks, though, especially when your intentions are altruistic, and you're sort of in-between homes. (coughPAcough).
Yah, it's a first-world problem and yah, you've got it pretty good, but it still stings a bit.
I'm just glad your dog wasn't in the truck too. I had a friend who was climbing up in Squamish about 10 years ago and when he got back to the parking lot he found the core to his lock from his truck on the ground. No truck. Dog, bikes, all gear was inside. It took a few weeks but they eventually found the dog in Kelowna with a couple of sketchy dudes trying to sell it. Dog is still alive and well and man, he's seen some sh*t. So have you, my friend. If nothing else, it makes for good stories.
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Kos
5 months ago
I think you (or somebody) did a good writeup on the dog misadventure?
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Lacy Kemp
5 months ago
I did indeed. Long time ago!
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TristanC
5 months ago
About a year and a half ago, I moved from the US to Germany for work. I remember being really frustrated as I piled up my stuff to pack and bring with me. It felt like there was so much of it and I had the impulse to drop everything and move overseas with only a carry-on full of clothes and figure it out later. Actually moving was anxiety-inducing from arriving at the airport to my new landlord finally leaving me in the apartment.
When I was able to put my bike together the next day and go for a ride, though, all that stress evaporated. Bikes make me feel good. I'm glad my brain works that way.
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Martin
5 months ago
Sometimes I look at my bikes and parts/tools/gear that I have carefully researched, built, upgraded, organized and maintained over the years. Most specifically my two current custom-built bikes that I have spent so much time making perfect for me, my custom rigid tool-boxes that I have organized to make sure that all my most used tools fit perfectly into their own foam cutouts.
Then I ask myself " what would I do if all of this got stolen?!". As long as my answer is still : "Give me a rigid hardtail and a multi-tool and I'll be fine!", I feel like I'm still not too attached to all of this. I might even go as far as saying that I would probably feel lighter, even if I enjoy having those things.
I had my '96 Stumpjumper (with my lusted-after Quadra 21R) stolen from my parent's garage when I was 14 years old. The one I had bought with my own money, collected from summers picking cherries, working as a dishwasher, cutting grasses, etc. It was my only material possession back then, and I still remember the feeling of seeing the empty space in the garage, all dressed up with my grey clipless shoes and half-finger Specialized gloves, ready to go for a ride. Man I was bummed, but the insurance company ended up sorting me out with a bike that I loved way more.
Those events really suck, but remind us of what's most important in life.
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jhtopilko
5 months ago
There isn't a lot we really need when a bike has such a high importance. And going from a new yeti to a starling murmur really is rough 😂
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Mike Ferrentino
5 months ago
There is a lot of egg-on-face cleaning to be done, since it was a Yeti test bike that I lost. The Starling, well yeah. I am going through a phase of steel-ification (not for the first time), and finding myself wanting my personal bikes to be made by people I know and made out of a material that I feel more comfortable about from a "hey, this water tastes like microplastic" perspective. Subjective, hypocritical, easily refuted logic behind much of this thinking, but I'm feeling my way through it anyhow. So, I bought the frame after reviewing the Twist a while back, and only just now getting to ride it.
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Velocipedestrian
5 months ago
That sinking guilt over someone else's stuff is cruel, especially when it wasn't a cared for item by the owner.
The Murmer looks great, I hope we'll get a write up, I'd be interested in your thoughts on the SV8 and Mezzer? Mattoc?
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Mike Ferrentino
5 months ago
Might be a while before I review the Murmur. Short version - it's like the Twist, with a bigger rear wheel. Slightly more plush, slightly more stable, slightly less fun. The Mezzer has been pretty well written about on here by Andrew. I am still working my way through the learning curve on the IRT. The SV8 should get written up pretty soon here. So far, me gusta muchas.
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SteveR
5 months ago
A great thought provoking read. Thanks , Mike! There’s nothing quite like a bike ride to clear the mind.
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PowellRiviera
5 months ago
Oh man, sorry about the theft. So disorienting!
It's ok to like our stuff and it's ok to let it go. If we love what we have and treat it well I believe we are less likely to need more stuff.
Take care man!
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Andy Eunson
5 months ago
It is one of the worst feelings being violated like that. We had four bikes stolen from our locked shed years ago. I’ve had a couple car break ins too. But when it comes down to it, it’s only stuff. One can get new replacement stuff. It’s why we have insurance. People and Peoples health and well being are far more important things.
You have my sympathies.
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XXX_er
5 months ago
" If life gives you lemons, make lemonade. "
From my recent Mexico trip i would suggest margarita's,
also i forgot to pack shirts so a good reason to buy surfer shirts
always look on the bright side of life
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BarryW
5 months ago
Those sound more like solid life choices than accidents! Hahaha.
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Mark
5 months ago
Well that sucks - been there so can relate to the frustration of all the shit to deal with after the shock is over.
But maybe this was the universe's way of helping to answer the question " What. The. Everloving. Fuck. Have. I. Done?" when it comes to finding a more permanent replacement for the Ford?
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Mike Ferrentino
5 months ago
The universe has been wagging me HARD the past couple months, and I have decided that trying to steer against the cosmos is futile. So, yeah, at least I don't have to deal with that teeny tiny insult of a truck bed anymore...
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BarryW
5 months ago
Another beautiful piece of writing Mike.
Your ability to write so candidly and insightfully about a tough moment like that is incredible. And you got bikes into it as well? Perfect!
Bummer about the puffy though. That one hits hard.
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the prophet
5 months ago
I feel there is some more to this one.
What prompted the living-in-a-truck gypsy lifestyle turn of events? No more poison oak infested Nor Cal compound?
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fartymarty
5 months ago
The article also ties into the Swedish concept of Death Cleaning - decluttering your life so your family doesn't have to deal with the crap you have accumulated over your life.
It also brings up my favorite question that no one ever wants to answer - "If you could only have one bike (one bike total - not just mtb) what would it be and why".
Hopefully this is just the start of a series of articles.
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Harris
5 months ago
Having recently watched/helped a parent with a disease go through Death Cleaning, it was strange for me and deeply cathartic for her. My father appreciated it immensely, and there is now less to manage after.
As for your favorite question, I've got an answer with a big fat asterisk.
If I live in an urban area, my brown surly steamroller with a random collection of parts from Japan and shop discard bins would do me just fine. It's got wide riser bars with some Oury grips wired on, and if I added brakes, cross tires, and flipped the wheel I'd happily have that as my only bike in most places.
If I lived further out in the woods, away from an excess of pavement and nearby to trails or fire roads, it has been hard to find fault with the modern aggressive trailbike. A Raaw Jibb with a spare set of tires has been suitable for just about everything, covering the fattest part of the bell curve of rides that I hav encountered in my life.
How about yours?
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LAT
5 months ago
“It also brings up my favorite question that no one ever wants to answer - "If you could only have one bike (one bike total - not just mtb) what would it be and why".”
starling murmur because it will shrug off years of use, it is simple to maintain an is fun to ride.
edit: i’m sorry to hear about your friends’ health and the theft.
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fartymarty
5 months ago
Harris, LAT,
I have a Murmur but would have to pick my Krampus or Solaris Max over it. It would be hard not to choose the Krampus as it's so damn versatile but a mix between the two would be prefect - maybe something like a Sirius.
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Mike Ferrentino
5 months ago
There is a lot more to this one, but I am not sure how deep a dive I want to take here. Short version, the poison oak farm sold in October, I have an elder parent in Mexico who I would like to spend as much time with as possible, and I am not entirely sure where the eventual stateside relocation vectors will align. Thus #trucklife. Or #trucklifeinterrupted...
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fartymarty
5 months ago
This is NSMB, you can go as deep as you want. Stretch it to a dozen pieces and I will be more than happy.
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shinypants111
5 months ago
Thanks, enjoyed the read! Hopefully replaced that sus 10 speed 4 cylinder with a clean GX460 or 4Runner!
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Justin White
5 months ago
I don't think the truck had a window break sensor if you didn't know about an alarm. More likely it "alarms" if a locked door is opened from the inside, without being unlocked from the outside via key or remote. Very common basic "alarm".
Subaru, and I think some others too, even take it a step further, without going full-fledged alarm system, and can trigger horn beeping and sometimes ignition lockout if the door is opened even with a key after being locked with the remote.
Was there a key in the truck? I didn't think modern vehicles could be easily hotwired*... Figure immobilizer keys are pretty much the norm nowadays for vehicles with a normal key. And most keyless systems won't even let you lock them with a key inside.
Was it a push button start? They could have done a "relay attack", although if they could do that they wouldn't have needed to break the window...
Sucks all around, though.
*(Exceptions being the recent Hyundais and Kias with their laughable USB vulnerability)
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Shrockie
5 months ago
I hear ya, man.. My Subie drove off without me, 2 minutes before a ride, about a week ago. Loved that car. MFrs
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Mike Ferrentino
5 months ago
Damn. Welcome to the club. Sorry.
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torontoMTB
5 months ago
I have taken an apple air tag, taped a zip tie to it, and zipped it onto a cable near the head tube. I hae one in my truck, and attached to my backpack. I'm sure everyone is aware of Apple Air tags at this point. This is just a friendly reminder to get creative with them.
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Mike Ferrentino
5 months ago
And also a timely reminder for me to order up a pile of them!
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Kos
5 months ago
Bummer, but, stuff, as you said.
And sounds like you're handling it well.
Hey, an excuse to shop for a new truck! Fun stuff (at least sorta)!
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Wapti
5 months ago
Well that fucking sucks.
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