Word: biking
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Something you’ve always wanted to tell someone: I can’t ride a bike. It’s true. I’m ashamed...
...HUPD officer was sent to Johnston Gate to take a report of a stolen black Ralley mountain bike with a value of $250 that was taken from the bike rack next to the gate. The theft occurred between...
...Dartboard heard the diesel rumbling of a shuttle in the shadows nearby, and as it rounded the corner, he spotted a stainless steel miracle—a bike rack, gleaming under the streetlights, affixed to the grill of the nighttime savior. He approached it eagerly, and spotted instructions attached. Pull, drop, heave, slip, stretch, and release. Done. Fifteen seconds later, Dartboard was sitting in the front seat of the shuttle, admiring his handiwork perched on the other side of the windshield...
...Dartboard-land, until some fraction of a second later, pothole number one passed beneath, then two and three. With each one, Dartboard’s vintage (read: rusty) Schwinn bounced violently. No, this was no easier way to get home; Dartboard’s fears of an evening bike ride down Garden Street were replaced with visions of his turquoise beauty jarring loose from its perilous mount and being crushed under the wheels of a crimson and white beast...
...transporandi would be. But the novelty and convenience of the racks have been so addicting that Dartboard finds himself using them again and again—although still sweating it out each time. And while the chipper folks at transportation services confirm they’ve never lost a bike of the front of shuttle, it’s little comfort to Dartboard’s fragile nerves. Perhaps the next time a midnight Mather-to-Quad schlep is necessary, Dartboard will sit in the back of the bus—so that if his precious takes a spill...