It is pitch dark, 85F, and here I was with the ponderous task of pushing back a luggage-sized shipment on my bike. My entire right arm was balancing the box on the seat, my left figher tips extended just enough to guide the handlebars, and my right hips balanced the overall leaning of the bicycle. I was wobbling along the street with just a small blinker.
Yawn, it had been a long Monday. It was 2 am when I realized that I had a Mom package to pick up at work. It was ostentatiously about food, but it was more an assemblege of thick socks and old sweaters. I even anticipated a large package by bringing a duffle bag for the bicycle. Riding a bicycle is about balance and control. With a bit of practice, one can ride simply by adjusting one's hips. A bit trickier is one-handed walking the bike.
My handling skills are impeccable. I flew through the half mile to work in less than 2 minutes, arms thrown into thw welcoming breeze. I jumped off, and ran in to grab the package. In and out, that was the plan.
What I found instead was a 2'x3'x4' behemoth (over 40lbs). Enormous and unwieldly, it required my back support to lift and carry. Beads of sweat began to form on my forehead as I began carrying it to my bike. What was I thinking? There was no hope of riding with the box. My only option was to load it onto the bike.
Thwap, twap, thinp, thwap - the metal rings clinked on the dufflebag against the bike. Lefty left, righty right - blinked my front flashlight. Finally, after half a dozen scares and 5 mins of going nowhere, our gaits matched and we were slowly on our way. The night was warm, the moon was hidden, and everyone was asleep. I was still awake, stumbling through the night. None that mattered though, I had a big and beautiful package to take home.