Today I bought a new-used bike. I've been wanting a cruiser for a while, after owning a cheap 10-speed for years that I hated. I've just never been much for hand brakes, and when I look back on my childhood bike-riding heyday, I always stopped the flow of traffic with my feet.
Stefan recently purchased a two-bike rack, and ever since that happened we've both been scouring Craigslist for a deal. Today we spent the entire day examining bikes, test riding them around neighborhoods on James Island and in parking lots. One guy had a ton of bikes, all rusty and weathered, that he claimed he'd found "in dumpsters, on roadsides, and just anywhere." We tested a couple, thinking he'd perhaps lower his prices to something sensible for an old beater, but nope. He asked a price that I knew I could beat--and I did.
I ended up getting my new bike thanks to a young woman from Summerville, whose recent pregnancy made her "too lazy to exercise," she'd said. I scored a bright blue cruiser and a helmet for practically nothing, and the bike is pretty much new.
I've already ridden around my neighborhood twice. Oh, how it brings back memories of riding around my grandmother's neighborhood, singing songs at the top of my lungs, flanked by my best childhood pals, from morning until dark. So carefree.