So I don’t know if you’ve heard but there is a bike bunny running around campus and scattering people’s bikes across Gambier. I have had multiple friends whose bikes have gotten into the hands of this “crafty” thief. I will address this bike bunny by telling my personal story.Continue reading
The Thrill is proud to feature personal narratives courtesy of Project Open Voices, a coalition of students providing a platform for open dialogue on campus. Today’s essay is titled “I Know You’d Do the Same for Me” and was authored anonymously. POV is always accepting new submissions, so if you want to share your story, email email@example.com. If you would like to remain anonymous, you can submit by signing into a second email account: firstname.lastname@example.org (password: kenyoncollege). POV meets Saturdays at 4pm in the Bemis music room in Peirce; new faces are always welcome.
Last semester on a Saturday night I saw someone throw a bike down to the lawn outside Mather. It was late, around 3:00 a.m., and I was walking home alone. As I walked up the path that curves up from the side of Gund to Mather and McBride, I saw a drunken student heave this bike over the path ahead of me, over the fence, down to the lawn. Continue reading
In early December, I wrote a post that guessed that construction of the North Campus bike pagodas would be done by the end of the fall semester. This completely random guess turned out to be wrong, so to make it up to you, I asked some ADULTS for real information. This is what they said: Continue reading
Astute lords and ladies may have noticed that there has been some construction happening in the North Campus Apartment area in the last few weeks. These are not Gundian adaptions of Japanese pagodas, or even small picnic pavilions, but bike shelters to protect your bike from natural elements (They will not protect your bike from drunk joy riders, but should do the job on rainy days).
Here is a picture of the one near my apartment, as of this morning:
I thought it was going to be a routine run to the market, grabbing that just before midnight beer as I finished my work on a Wednesday night. The Red Sox had just won the World Series and I thought I owed it to myself. I borrowed a bike from a friend and gunned it down Middle Path, wind in my hair, not a care in the world as late-October Kenyon flew past me. Little did I know how quickly tables would be turned that night.