Gardena man's rescue of fellow bus rider's bike changes his life How do you know when your life will open wide? Chris Bolivar was having the most ordinary of afternoons. One weekday a year ago February, he caught his usual bus at 1st and Hope after his shift at the Department of Water and Power headquarters in downtown Los Angeles. Wearing his DWP windbreaker, he settled in near the front, tired and eager to get home to Gardena. As other passengers piled on, the Commuter Express 448 filled up at its downtown stops en route to the South Bay. Bolivar gave up his seat to an older woman and stood staring out at the city. He watched other regulars arrive - the lawyer with the legal pads, the loud cellphone talker. At 7th and Flower, the bike guy clamped his wheels to the outside rack and, in stretchy pants, helmet and cleated shoes, clip-clopped toward the back. The bus lurched along, until at a red light, a young man rushed up. In a flash, he yanked the bike off the rack and started to run with it down the street. The bus driver honked and honked and opened the front door - but the thief kept moving. So Bolivar, 59, took off in pursuit - out the door, up the sidewalk. He saw someone near the thief and yelled, "Stop that guy!" But the person just stared and the thief kept going, now trying to hop on the bike and ride away. When his feet failed to get purchase on the pedals made for bike shoes, the bicycle started wobbling wildly. Just as Bolivar closed in, hollering, "It's not your bike!" the man gave up, threw down the bike and ran. Dan McLaughlin, the bike guy, meanwhile, was perched on a step by the rear door of the bus, safely sealed in a BlackBerry bubble. McLaughlin, a vice president at Good Samaritan Hospital, who had pedaled 25 miles from Rancho Palos Verdes that morning, kept tip-tapping away, answering email. All at once he registered voices and what sounded like, "Bike! Bike! He raced to the front, gaped at the empty rack and saw his prized $2,500, carbon-frame Trek Madone down the sidewalk - in the hands of a stranger. Then, miraculously, he watched the stranger start wheeling the bike back his way. Both men were shaking as they met in front of the bus. McLaughlin lifted his bike back onto the rack, intact but for slightly bent handlebars.