Each September, for 10 so years, I’ve headed 350 kilometres to Albury for the Write Around the Murray festival. Usually I take my bike to pedal early mornings along the river and through the wide streets.

About four years ago there was no room in the back of the Tarago for the Soma Wolverine, so I hired a bike from a shop at the top end of Dean Street, near the train line.

This year I needed to hire a bike again due to the crowded vehicle. (Drum kit, cello and accordion took preference!) Do you think I did the sensible thing and rang ahead? Do you think I looked up the bike shop on the web, on my phone? You know, searched for ‘Albury bike shops’? No, of course, I didn’t.

 I walked up Dean St late on the Thursday afternoon, carrying helmet, gloves and hi-viz vest. “It’s up on the left-hand side,” I said to the helmet. “Just another block or so. On the corner.”

 It was not on the left-hand side. It was not at the top of Dean Street. It was not on the corner. It. Was. Not.

But across the road was a large bike shop. Let’s call it Trak. I walk in, near closing time. Bikes. Lots of good-looking bikes. Three staff. A few customers.

 Helmet and hope in hand I ask one of the staff if they hire bikes.

  “No.”  (The answer was not that blunt, but I sensed I had no room to move, nowhere to go, so to speak.)

 “Oh.”

“Sorry.”

  “Anywhere else I could hire a bike? I’ve come up from Melbourne.”

  “We’re the only bike shop in Albury now.”

“I guess that’s good for Trak but not so good for cyclists around here.”

   “Yeah, it’s a bit of a shame.”

  “Was there a bike shop across the road? On the corner? I hired a bike there a few years ago.”

 “Yeah. It closed about two years back. An another one that was near the highway moved to Wodonga.”

“Oh, I see.  Alright, thanks.” Helmet in hand I walked away, wondering if there might have been a half-decent bike (nothing flash) out the back of Trak. But no offer was made. Nothing like, “I’ll ask the boss, see what we might be able to do for you.”

The next day a local cyclist told me the shop I’d remembered was just one of several various businesses owned by a large company.

“They have their fingers in all sorts of pies. Weren’t necessarily passionate about cycling. I think they were shoring up resources. Expanding into other areas of business. That sort of thing.”

 And, so, a bike shop closes.