Column: Looking foolish at the bike shop

There are times in life where you just have to accept you look foolish. One of those times was for me recently.

A while back, I decided I wanted to buy a bike. I had gotten rid of my bike — a trusty old beach cruiser — a few years back after years of dedicated service. I had planned to get a new one, but that was right at the start of the pandemic, so I guess I just got preoccupied with pandemic things, like making bread and watching “Tiger King.”

But a few months back, I decided I would get a bike. I wanted a one similar to my previous bike — a single speed beach cruiser that I could use for rides around the neighborhood and across the street to the grocery store.

At first, I decided to try Facebook Marketplace. Fun fact: Any bike under $200 has apparently been left in the rain for the better part of four years. Each one I looked at was covered in rust and looked like it was a speed bump away from falling apart.

My next stop was to go to a big box stores. I had two observations there: Bike prices have gone up precipitously since I last bought a bike and adult bike inventory is less than stellar.

I lamented this issue to my wife, in particular the cost. She reminded me that I buy a bike about every 25 years, so I could probably spring for what I wanted. As for the inventory issue, I knew how to solve this.

There is a local store near me that sells mainly beach cruisers. I rolled up and began chatting with the guy there. He showed me a variety of bikes, and I began taking them for rides. Each one was brand new and thus free of rust. Nice change of pace.

After a few tries, I hopped on one and it rode like a dream. A perfect fit. And it was even on sale.

Once I got the bike home, I attached a basket to the front and a rear rack on the back. My official grocery transport was in service.

On my first trip back from the store, I noticed a clicking sound every time I pedaled. Hmmm, I thought. Not ideal.

But happy that I bought local, I took the bike back up to the store. The owner was there, and he took it for a ride. Of course, no noise. He assured me that if I heard it again I could bring it back and they would take care of it.

On my next grocery ride, the clicking started again. This time, I pulled my phone out and hit the video. I pointed it at my feet and kept riding forward. Click. Click. Click.

I turned around and loaded up the bike again. In retrospect, I really wish I had just looked at the video.

Once I got the bike back to the shop, the original salesman was there. He hopped on the bike. Quiet as can be. I pulled out my phone and called up the video. We both saw it at the same time, but he said it out loud. “Your kickstand is down. That’s what the pedal is hitting.”

The moment the video started it was very clear. I looked at him and suggested they add a dummy tax, and probably should charge me twice for it. He assured me it was all good, and that they just wanted me to be happy with the bike.

And I am happy. Quite happy, in fact. I have a new bike I enjoy riding, and I’m sure I have given the folks at the bike store plenty of good — and well deserved — laughs for the foreseeable future.

Mike Gibbons was born and raised in Aiken and now lives in Mount Pleasant. A graduate of the University of Alabama, you can email him at scmgibbons@gmail.com.