What a difference a bike makes

So there is this group of keys, two standard issue door keys, one not quite the other, plus a skeleton key, all three on a reinforced black rubber band, like some kind of ponytail band, and I had nonchalantly presumed these were the keys to the basement door and to the storage room, since I already had a set of keys for the building/apartment. Besides it has been cold and or snowy and or icy and or rainy, so there really has not been any impetus for me to explore the basement and discover whether there might be a bicycle in the storeroom, as rumored. But last Wednesday it did warm up and brighten up in the afternoon, almost enough to give one hope that spring might actually be here to stay (turns out to be a vain hope, but still it was ALMOST enough), so I fetched the ponytail band keys and went down to the basement door and... no luck. No way, not ever.

Hmmmm.

And there was another problem, only very tangentally related, which was that my kitchen light had burned out. Fine, you might say, just go buy another bulb. I did. And a nice compact florescent one too, thank you, and I got out the stepladder and climbed up two steps and said... nope, this is not going to work. Tall ceilings, only way I am going to reach the fixture is to stand on the very top level, which I am not.

Then a good deed, rewarded. Gabriella, downstairs, divorced mother of one, living with her parents (or they with her, unclear) was back from her operation (throat, couple of tumors removed, not sure of prognosis), so on the way back from school I stopped to buy a bouquet of about 7-8 nice flowers, then dropped by their flat to say Gute Besserung or whatever one says in magyarul, i have no idea, something like egeszegedre, but that is a toast with wine, at least though people would understand the intention. Of course I am invited in to have a cup of very strong instant coffee in a very small cup (no I did NOT complain, thank you, I was very polite, but I grant you i did not ask for seconds) and some cookies (they were tasty, it's hard to ruin chocolate), and in the course of fumble-with-online-dictionary conversation I managed to ask if they had a ladder I could borrow and oh, by the way, how DOES that basement door work? So I get to do two things: replace my light (it is much better now, only 20 watt consumption, with 100 watt equivalent output, compared to the 60/60 conventional that preceded it) and get a look see at the basement, including a close examination of the basement key, which definitely was not what I had on my ponytail band.

Fastforward to yesterday, a lazy day, napping and such, but also some poking around in corners, looking in drawers, searching in bookcases, that sort of thing. I keep thinking there must be another set of keys. Nothing. Nowhere.

This morning, more of the same. I start to fold up winter coats and stash them in the storage closet in the entrance hallway, and then on some kind of inspired impulse I decide to hunt through the other stuff in there. The box with cleaning supplies. The box with shoe polish. The mini xmas tree, a couple of leftover cat toys, a locking bike cable, key set into the cable lock. Makes sense, store the key with the lock.

Wait a minute, the key inserted into the cable lock is on a key ring. And lookie there---the key ring has two extra keys on it, and damned if one of them doesn't look just like the basement key that Gabriella's mom was using. So I tried it, and it worked. Voila. Shazam. Abracadabra. Apparatur! Sezam, oeffne dich! Open Sezme!

And we get past the door and to the inner chamber and use key number two to open the door of the actual storage room and behold there are not one, not two, but THREE bicycles. One of which is a kid's bike, ok , fine, but two adult sized women's bikes (who cares , besides it's easier when you come to a stop and want to put both feet on the ground), one of them a newish mountain bike, which I promptly pumped using the bike pump I found in the storage bins upstairs along with the bike cable, and in about 10 minutes I had put on my trouser clamps, my helmet (both very prudently purchased last month, just in case), and I was

off, off forth on a swing,

as a skate's heel sweeps smooth

on a bow bend, the hurl and gliding

rebuffed the big wind, my heart in hiding....

----ooops, sorry, i got hopkinsed away---

ANYWAY

I was off , of forth on the bike, heading north into a residential area I hadn't travelled before,

exploring here, there, crossed over the little river, headed further north, vaguely along the river, then there was a sign, campground to the left, so I go to explore

and it is sort of like Times Beach, as if everything has been unoccupied for about 20 years or so, camping pads and electric hookups, but all cracked and weedy, and a broken down building with MOTEL on the side, with what appears to have been nothing but 100% vacancy.

But then there is this open air swimmingpool, and there are people there, swimming, not many, about 10-15, and this is what, 18 April??? Water must be freezing. And I ride around some more and then suddenly I am passing by a small lake, like something out of the Tennessee swamps where the Mississippi used to run, a two acre version of Reelfoot Lake, with lilypads and ducks and birds calling and tree stumps. I ride around some more and I see an information sign, go over to it, and in HungarianEnglishGerman there is info about these natural springs, which used to be the most productive in Europe, but which dried up because of extensive mining in the 50s and 60s and finally stopped flowing in the 70s, but which started to re-emerge in the early 90s as mining was curtailed, and now are flowing stronger and stronger, and this is a nature preserve now, and all these plant species which were totally gone are starting to make a tentative comeback.

So I ride around and look around, and it is quiet and peaceful, and the loudest sound is the bird calls and the crush of dry leaves under my bike wheels. So I dismount to make less noise.

Waterlilies are just starting to bloom. Oh yes, the info signs say that the springs feed the swimmingpool with water at a constant 68-70 degrees Farenheit, hence the swimmers in April. I wonder if anyone is there in winter as well?

When i got back (was gone about 2 hrs) I checked my mailbox. Gabrielle left a note--they went and made a copy of their key for me. So sweet. All is well. For now.