Dale

Bicycles are one of the main forms of transportation on our island. It could almost be the perfect green form of transportation, if it was not for the tourists who see fit to continue the war of northern aggression, by driving their cars and SUVs on our narrow streets because they are in just too much of a hurry to walk or bike. So one must be forever vigilant when riding to avoid being flattened into the pavement.

I have a dumpster bike. It's called a dumpster bike, because that's where it was headed when I rescued it, and recycled it into my transporter. At one time my bike was state of the art, sported eighteen speeds, but alas because of ruined derailleurs now it only supplies one. What was once shiny chrome is now rust, and the brakes can be an iffy situation. It is old, but still gets around, a lot like the old Chief.

This morning after all my domestic chores were caught up with, I grabbed my camera and headed out. My intent was to ride the bike across the island to the Truman waterfront to the ocean festival, maybe take some pictures, eat some fritters or shrimp and enjoy the beautiful day. This is the point in this tail where the dumpster bike fails me. The front tire is flat. I left the pump at the house up north on the last trip, and also I have very few tools here with me, mainly a leatherman, and a survival knife. Knowing all of this I decide to walk to flat tire dumpster steed to the nearest bike shop on Eaton street. The day was not going the way I had envisioned.

As I limped my despicable rusting two wheeler along, I made the turn on white street, and continued to the corner of Fleming street. As I was turning onto Fleming by the Sunbeam store on the corner, a rather shady sort of fellow started walking my way. "Hey", says he "looks like you got a flat front tire". Wow, what a divine revelation, I thought to myself. What was your first clue, maybe the fact I am dragging it along like the anchor off a ship. Then the man said "bring it over here" behind a boat he pointed to across the street, and" I will fix it for you, it won't take but a minute". I figured, what the heck, maybe he has a compressor and can just put some air in the flat tire for me.

This hulk of a boat blocked a narrow driveway through thick hedges, with just a bike trail around it. When I got by the boat the yard opened up into a rather large space filled with one of the largest bike junk yards I have ever seen, none of which was visible from the street. There was also a very neat old island style southern house that had seen better times, but still very neat. It looked like a scene from that American Pickers show, stuff laying every where.

Dale, as I found out his name, got a small compressor and filled the front tire, but the tube was leaking and it was not going to hold air. Dale then said "I got a used tube around here some where I can change it for you real quick". Once again, I figured what the heck, and let Dale go at it. The first tube he found was a no go, and off he dove into a pile of old wheels and tires looking for another.

As it turns out Dale was a very interesting pleasant person to talk with. He said he had hitch hiked to Key West in 1976 when he was sixteen years old and had been here ever since. We talked about how much the island had changed over the years, and how he came into the bicycle business. Dale sells old bicycles for forty dollars and gives a months maintenance guaranty on each one along with a bill of sale to prove the bike is not stolen. He also fixes up bikes that he gives to the kids on the island that can't afford one. The bike business he said came about after kicking a bad drug problem, and he needed something to keep him busy at night and out of trouble. Things just seemed to have worked out from there.

Dale finally found a tube that would hold air, and had my dumpster bike back in working order.

He said three dollars would be fine, I gave him a five. He told me God Bless you and I said the same to him. We shuck hands, and I knew I had made another friend.

As I rode off toward the water front, I remember what another Key West legend, Captain Tony, used to say, "always look for the good in people". I learned that lesson again today, how true Captain Tony, how true.