In my eight years on college campuses—first as a student, and then as the girlfriend of a grad student—my cheap, beater bike was stolen four times. Once, the wheels were gone. Another time, the seat. Twice, it just vanished into the ether, leaving only a busted U-lock and broken dreams in its wake. Even if the bike itself only cost fifty or a hundred bucks, the inconvenience was annoying.

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