The Bicycle Auction Experience
$5 for a Bike - Legally

by Yigal Schleifer

It's a problem as old as the wheel: How do you get a good, cheap bike in New York City?

Recently being: 1. in need of a bike, 2. short on cash, I found myself facing this monumental problem. I scoured the East Village's bulletin boards looking for that magical sentence "Bike 4 Sale," but to no avail. I averted my eyes as hustlers offered me what were obviously stolen bikes at painfully low prices. I asked every cyclist I knew, "Selling your bike?", but again, no luck.

Then, by chance, my eyes fell upon a notice in the New York Times. "Police Auction," it announced, "400 used bicycles and other merchandise for sale. Auction Wednesday, viewing of merchandise on Monday."

I headed out on the L train in the general direction of Morgan Avenue and the BQE. I got out at the Graham Avenue stop, asked for directions, and walked North to Meeker Avenue (which is actually the road that runs directly below the BQE).

A police officer nodded me in. In print, 400 seems like a lot, but to actually see 400 bicycles lined up one after the other is an overwhelming sight rarely seen outside of China and Vietnam. Slightly in a euphoric daze, I started to check out the "merchandise." Each bike had a numbered tag, which corresponded to a number on an inspection sheet handed out at the door. The variety was incredible. 10 speeds of all makes, shapes and sizes. Mountain bikes, from a shiny new purple Giant Iguana (no seat, but otherwise perfect) to beaten up, but perfectly acceptable Huffys. There were bicycles for little children, hybrids, old 3 speeds, souped-up racers, Rosses, Treks, Fujis, Cannondales. You name it, they had it.

Officer Ed Banda is in charge of the bicycle auction. "Most of these bikes are bikes that have been recovered," says Ed. "Either we find them abandoned in parks or on the streets, or people turn them in. Other bikes were used as evidence in robbery cases. Some bikes were from accidents." Chuckles Ed, "You could probably tell by the bent wheels which ones those are."

According to Officer Banda, the police department holds a bicycle auction nearly every two months, selling 60-100 bikes.

In the warehouse, I ran into Brian Martin, the proud owner of top end Scott mountain bike he bought in a previous auction for $100. "It's really hit and miss," Brian says. "It depends on who is there. A lot of times, dealers will come and buy up all the bicycles, so you gotta get through the big guys." In Brian's case, getting through the big guys meant not only that incredible Scott he was riding, but also a shiny chrome Ross that he bought for a mere $90.

The most important part of finding a bike through the police auction is careful inspection. Buying a bike cheap and then finding out it needs a bundle in repairs could quickly diminish any "bargain" that you found. Some bikes in the warehouse, for example, were simply missing derailleurs or one of their brakes. Others had more serious drawbacks. One Cannondale, for example, had one of its brake stems crack off- a repair which would require welding to the Cannondale's aluminum frame. But many bikes were only in need of some air in their tires.

It's auction time!

Wednesday morning. 9:30 A.M. Police Headquarters, Manhattan. The auction is set to begin. Iregister and paya$l deposit for the number card which I will hold up when I make my bids. "Which one you going for?" asks a guy in front of me. "The red Trek," I answer. "Good," he says, "I'm going for the Trek Antelope. But you see that woman over there? I think she's going for your bike." Suddenly, a creeping sense of competition comes over me.

Doubts and fears are cast aside as the auctioneer steps up to the stage. After a short and patronizing sermon regarding the virtues of coming early to the warehouse to pick up anything that you bought, the auctioneer lays out the terms of the auction. Bids start at a meager $5. Up until $50, bids rise by $5. After $50, bids will rise at $10. At $100, bids rise by $20.

Fair enough. The auction begins with bike number 1A sold for $10. 2A sold for $10. Heavy bidding starts with number 40A, a Trek 900 which sells for a ridiculously low $120. The picture-perfect purple Giant Iguana, after a tense bidding battle, goes for $180 - a bargain by any definition of the word. Soon enough, the auctioneer gets to bike number 184A, my red Trek. Bidding starts at $5, and before I know it, the auctioneer is up to $80. I raise my card. Someone behind me ups the bid. I raise my card again. He ups me again. By now we're up to $140, more than I was planning to spend, but I wanted that bike. I raise my card, assured that $150 was more than my rival could spend. Wrong, he ups the bid to $160. I slump back in my chair, defeated. I made bids for a few other bikes, half-heartedly. Most of the bikes sold went for below $40. One man even bought an assortment of 20 damaged bicycles for $80.

I may not have gotten my dream bike this time, but in just two months, I said quietly to myself, I'll have another chance. I walked back home - without wheels, but with hope.

Check out http://www.ci.nyc.ny.us/html/nypd/html/misc/auction.html!

Note added March 21, 2003: It has been brought to our attention that the police are now auctioning bikes only in large lots of several bikes.