So here's a story. A boyhood friend and I were riding our bikes, checking out the old neighborhood where we grew up. He was in the lead, and we were barreling down a hill at high speed. I didn't realize he was planning to turn right until it was too late. Blam! Over the handle bars I went, as I skidded into his back wheel.

No harm done. Well, almost. My brakes seemed frozen in a clamped shut position and the wheels were out of true. We limped to a bike shop, where the proprietor was able to take care of the problems (my friend's bike was OK) in 15 minutes (for $15). But as I was patting my pockets: oh no, keys gone. Friend went back to the scene of the accident to look for them (while my bike was in the shop). No dice. Crap. On my ring was the ONLY KEY to the new (used) car (another Subaru wagon) sitting in his driveway (blocking his garage).

Triple-A locksmith would be able to make me a new key on the spot right? Wrong. This was a newfangled key system, and it'd take hours and lots of money to figure out a key. Subaru doesn't hide key codes in the car body anymore, and dealers aren't about to give up key codes by VIN number, even if such a database exists.

So I have to get it towed. Triple-A calls back to confirm its an all-wheel drive, meaning I'll need a flatbed (turns out that's not so -- special dollies work with the regular tow trucks). Flat bed arrives, but the adventure is still young. This guy (lates 20s?) is the most trained employe on duty that night, and when the radio crackles with news of an accident on I-84, he feels called to the scene. We become an emergency vehicle, blaring the horn, forcing cars on the ramp to one side (I-84 is already quite backed up from the smash).

I don't think anyone was hurt, but someone driving while suspended (no license) cut off someone else, forcing them to the wall, where the car flipped on its side. My tow truck guy was trained to right rolled vehicles, and quickly took command of the situation. Later I told him I thought he made all the right calls (judgement-wise) and he said he appreciated my saying so.

We towed the car all the way out to the dealer in Vancouver (it was getting dark). I was scheduled to have an alarm system installed Monday, but now it looked like the dealer was going to have to make me a new keyas well. I left a note.

Got home to messages (cell battery was long dead, so no one had been able to tell me earlier) that the keys had been found, by a witness to the bicycle collision, who had them at home. I could retrieve them the next day, which I did, and promptly got a ride (from a fellow Quaker) back to the dealer, to rescue the car -- no point leaving it there, I'd show up next morning as if nothing had happened. Which I did. Have a security system now, I hope a deterrent to future would-be theives. I also biked in a big loop over both bridges, while the installers worked, hoping to get into a little bit better shape for the upcoming STP (a marathon 200 mile 2-day bike ride -- more on that later).