I was gearing up for a typical afternoon when disbelief hit me: the spot where my cargo bike was parked was empty. My daughter frantically searched nearby bikes, convinced it must've been moved. However, it was clear—my bike was stolen.
In the Netherlands, where biking is ingrained in everyday life, I rely on my bike for everything—school runs, shopping trips—since I don’t own a car. But this bike was special. Together with my colleague, we transformed it into a mobile broadcasting studio called the Bike Bureau. Inspired by my daughter’s suggestion during one of our rides to share the news, I started a series called "Dutch News from the Cycle Path." The bike allowed us to report live from anywhere, highlighting the joys and challenges of working motherhood.
After reporting the theft to the police and garnering community support, I have little hope of recovering it. Despite my appeals on social media, the search has yielded no results. Neighbors, however, expressed concern and fondness for my bike adventures, resonating with their own cycling experiences in our shared city.
The bike wasn’t just a vehicle; it embodied my life as a working mom. It was solar-powered, promoting sustainable journalism while eliminating the carbon footprint of satellite trucks. According to recent findings, readers are particularly drawn to personal stories about tackling climate issues.
In a country known for cycling safety, the spike in bike thefts, with over 86,000 reported last year, is shocking. Many bikes end up stripped for parts or resold, and my cargo bike cost nearly €5,000, an investment that went beyond mere transportation— it offered independence for both me and my daughter.
Despite the personal loss, conversations ignited by the theft address cycling safety, urban infrastructure, and the challenges mothers face. It highlights a supportive community built through shared experiences on two wheels, reminding us that while my bike is gone, its impact endures, leaving behind treasured memories.
