About 15 years, when I thought shopping at Goodwill was too fancy for me, I found myself at the Goodwill outlet. This is where everything goes that hasn’t sold at Goodwill, just before it goes to the dump. All the clothes are sold by the pound and other goods are sold for pennies on the dollar rather than having to pay the trash company to take them away. Having found no jeans in my size, I started looking at what else was there. That’s when I found Bullseye.

Bullseye was a blue, 1980’s style Takara 10 speed road bike. His tires were flat and, I would later find out, the seat post was corroded in place. Otherwise, he was in remarkable good shape considering he was days away from the landfill. I decided a “new” bike was just what I needed, so I forked over $10 and carted the bike home. After inflating the tires and trying to lower the seat, I took Bullseye out for my first ride. Recently, I had only been riding mountain bikes so getting back on skinny tires felt so fast. There was a small voice in the back of my head that kept repeating any bike worth only $10 is bound to fall apart when you ride it. Over time, as we covered more miles together, my confidence in Bullseye grew.

When we moved to Boise, I decided to try bike commuting rather than getting another car and Bullseye was right there with me. I assumed I’d get a new bike once this one finally gave up on me. When something on Bullseye would break, I always feared it was the beginning of the end. So, rather than fixing it properly, I would bodge it back into working order with zip ties, coat hanger or occasionally random pieces of Erector Set I had from my childhood.

After several years, I realized I was spending more time researching, cleaning and adjusting my derailleurs than I was using them. So, I took them off and Bullseye went from 10-speed to one. Later, I noticed that my rim brakes were not providing the stopping power I wanted when it rained. Now, I assumed that new brake pads would probably have fixed the problem, but it was cheaper (and way more fun as a maker) to weld the back hub, turning the free wheel into a fixie. This allowed me to stop without using the brakes at all and worked for nine months. Then the welds broke and once again, Bullseye went back to being a non-hipster style of bike.

Eventually, the parts that needed to be fixed or replaced far outnumbered those still working well. I had decided it was time to replace Bullseye. That’s when I saw the notice about the car for bike swap. Once I won, I agreed to trade-in Bullseye as soon as the new bike arrived. That happened last weekend, so I said goodbye to Bullseye. Now, I’ve got my new bike, but I have no idea what to name it. I mean everyone who’s ever seen Toy Story knows that Woody rides Bullseye, but that name was already taken.