Ticket To Ride
With some money that unexpectedly became available, Nancy said she'd like to get an exercise bike. I'll admit I was initially a little hesitant on the idea, mainly because I had no idea where we were going to put en exercise bike if we did get one. But we (meaning she, mostly) did some comparison shopping, and we checked out some bikes at a couple of local sporting goods stores.
After testing half a dozen different models, the Schwinn 226 started to stand out as the bike of choice. It got good reviews online and from the store people we talked to. And it was on sale. We weren't really ready to buy at that moment (approaching 9:30 on a Saturday night), but the department manager at the local Sports Authority store said they'd honor any sale prices for up to six days after the sale. So we kept looking around, confident that we could come back and get the deal if that's what we decided to do.
We spent the next week looking at other options, mostly comparison price shopping on the Schwinn 226. It normally retails for $600, but Nancy found two ads showing it at $449. So the following Saturday, we went into a different Sports Authority location to find out if they would match the price. The guy we ended up talking to said he'd check on it...then disappeared for about the next 20 minutes. When he finally came back, he said no, they couldn't match the price. He'd called on both of the ads we gave him; he said that one ad showed the bike as a clearance item, and on the other the store he called didn't carry the bike in stock. Long story short, he was more than happy to sell us the bike at his store price, which was $499, as I recall. Thanks, we said, but we'll keep on looking.
Nancy found a couple more ads the following week online for the bike at $449, one of which was through the Sports Authority website. Armed with these two ads, we made our way back to the original store, because the guy at store #2 had been kind of a jerk, frankly. It's one thing if you can't match a price, but it's quite another to be condescending about it. Anyway, back to store #1. Alas, we found that they wouldn't match prices with Internet ads—not even their own. The online store is handled differently by the corporation than their brick-and-mortar stores, so price comparisons are like apples and grapefruit. And the issue was kind of moot at this point anyway, because they didn't even have their display model of the bike left—they'd sold quite well, apparently—and didn't know when they'd be getting another one shipped in.
At this point we got to talk to the department manager, a pleasant and unexpectedly helpful young man named Paul. He listened to our story and said he'd make a couple of calls. He called the two closest Sports Authority stores in SLC, only to discover that neither of them had the bike at the moment either. So he called the Orem store and talked to a manager there named Justin. Not only did he have the bike in stock, he said he'd hold it for up to a week for us. Better yet, he also said he'd honor the $449 ad price. Well worth the drive, in my book.
It was, once again, late Saturday night when all of this came to pass, so we made plans to go get the bike after Nancy got off work the following Monday. I had to meet Nancy that morning for some stuff involving her car, and afterwards, instead of returning home, I headed south. I was halfway to Orem at that point anyway, and I figured it'd make for a nice surprise. So I found the Sports Authority store attached to the University Mall and made my way in. Sure enough, the bike was there and it was the right price. The sales guy who helped me, whose name I unfortunately cannot remember at the moment, got everything together and made sure the girl at the register charged me correctly. Then he asked the one question I had neglected to think about: how was I going to get it home?
I wasn't driving the Dreadnought at the time (more on that later), and it wouldn't really have helped if I had been, because the tailgate doesn't open at the moment. I thought maybe we could get it into the back seat of the car I was driving. Closer examination of the box, which was almost as tall as I am, shot that idea right down. So the trunk was the only viable option left. I moved around the stuff in the trunk to make way for the humongous box the bike came in. He secured it (and the trunk lid) with a couple of bungee cords, and with the addition of an orange safety flag at the back, I was gone with the Schwinn.*
Getting the bike home was a bit of an adventure, simply because I had a hard time seeing behind me. The trunk lid prevented the use of the rear view mirror, and the side mirrors were smaller than I'm used to. But I made it home and pulled into the driveway. From there it was a little complicated to get it out of the trunk and into the apartment—the weight listed on the box was 177 pounds—but I eventually succeeded.
Nancy was sure surprised when she got home that night and found that she didn't have to drive to Orem like she'd been planning. We put the bike together that night, and it looked just like it's supposed to look:
Nancy took the first ride, and we've both used it a couple of times since bringing it home on Monday. It's as good as advertised. It's fun to ride, and it's a real workout. I rode it this afternoon while listening to the last 8 minutes or so of the BYU-UNLV basketball game. I did the Pikes Peak program at level 1. (Hey, it's a start.) In my 20 minute ride, I went 4.6 simulated miles at an average speed of 14.2 miles per hour and burned 120 calories. Not too bad, if I say so myself.
Maybe by the time this summer rolls around, I'll be able to ride a virtual Tour de France. Okay, probably not, since I have no access to blood doping services or performance-enhancing chemicals. But it should still be fun to ride, and heaven knows I can use the exercise.
--
* It's from The Muppet Movie. If the line's not familiar, it's been too long since you've seen it. You might want to do something about that.
After testing half a dozen different models, the Schwinn 226 started to stand out as the bike of choice. It got good reviews online and from the store people we talked to. And it was on sale. We weren't really ready to buy at that moment (approaching 9:30 on a Saturday night), but the department manager at the local Sports Authority store said they'd honor any sale prices for up to six days after the sale. So we kept looking around, confident that we could come back and get the deal if that's what we decided to do.
We spent the next week looking at other options, mostly comparison price shopping on the Schwinn 226. It normally retails for $600, but Nancy found two ads showing it at $449. So the following Saturday, we went into a different Sports Authority location to find out if they would match the price. The guy we ended up talking to said he'd check on it...then disappeared for about the next 20 minutes. When he finally came back, he said no, they couldn't match the price. He'd called on both of the ads we gave him; he said that one ad showed the bike as a clearance item, and on the other the store he called didn't carry the bike in stock. Long story short, he was more than happy to sell us the bike at his store price, which was $499, as I recall. Thanks, we said, but we'll keep on looking.
Nancy found a couple more ads the following week online for the bike at $449, one of which was through the Sports Authority website. Armed with these two ads, we made our way back to the original store, because the guy at store #2 had been kind of a jerk, frankly. It's one thing if you can't match a price, but it's quite another to be condescending about it. Anyway, back to store #1. Alas, we found that they wouldn't match prices with Internet ads—not even their own. The online store is handled differently by the corporation than their brick-and-mortar stores, so price comparisons are like apples and grapefruit. And the issue was kind of moot at this point anyway, because they didn't even have their display model of the bike left—they'd sold quite well, apparently—and didn't know when they'd be getting another one shipped in.
At this point we got to talk to the department manager, a pleasant and unexpectedly helpful young man named Paul. He listened to our story and said he'd make a couple of calls. He called the two closest Sports Authority stores in SLC, only to discover that neither of them had the bike at the moment either. So he called the Orem store and talked to a manager there named Justin. Not only did he have the bike in stock, he said he'd hold it for up to a week for us. Better yet, he also said he'd honor the $449 ad price. Well worth the drive, in my book.
It was, once again, late Saturday night when all of this came to pass, so we made plans to go get the bike after Nancy got off work the following Monday. I had to meet Nancy that morning for some stuff involving her car, and afterwards, instead of returning home, I headed south. I was halfway to Orem at that point anyway, and I figured it'd make for a nice surprise. So I found the Sports Authority store attached to the University Mall and made my way in. Sure enough, the bike was there and it was the right price. The sales guy who helped me, whose name I unfortunately cannot remember at the moment, got everything together and made sure the girl at the register charged me correctly. Then he asked the one question I had neglected to think about: how was I going to get it home?
I wasn't driving the Dreadnought at the time (more on that later), and it wouldn't really have helped if I had been, because the tailgate doesn't open at the moment. I thought maybe we could get it into the back seat of the car I was driving. Closer examination of the box, which was almost as tall as I am, shot that idea right down. So the trunk was the only viable option left. I moved around the stuff in the trunk to make way for the humongous box the bike came in. He secured it (and the trunk lid) with a couple of bungee cords, and with the addition of an orange safety flag at the back, I was gone with the Schwinn.*
Getting the bike home was a bit of an adventure, simply because I had a hard time seeing behind me. The trunk lid prevented the use of the rear view mirror, and the side mirrors were smaller than I'm used to. But I made it home and pulled into the driveway. From there it was a little complicated to get it out of the trunk and into the apartment—the weight listed on the box was 177 pounds—but I eventually succeeded.
Nancy was sure surprised when she got home that night and found that she didn't have to drive to Orem like she'd been planning. We put the bike together that night, and it looked just like it's supposed to look:
Nancy took the first ride, and we've both used it a couple of times since bringing it home on Monday. It's as good as advertised. It's fun to ride, and it's a real workout. I rode it this afternoon while listening to the last 8 minutes or so of the BYU-UNLV basketball game. I did the Pikes Peak program at level 1. (Hey, it's a start.) In my 20 minute ride, I went 4.6 simulated miles at an average speed of 14.2 miles per hour and burned 120 calories. Not too bad, if I say so myself.
Maybe by the time this summer rolls around, I'll be able to ride a virtual Tour de France. Okay, probably not, since I have no access to blood doping services or performance-enhancing chemicals. But it should still be fun to ride, and heaven knows I can use the exercise.
--
* It's from The Muppet Movie. If the line's not familiar, it's been too long since you've seen it. You might want to do something about that.
posted by Michael at
7:00 PM
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