Ritamarie
11-27-2009, 03:57 PM
Since I work from my home office 99% of the time, I don't have the opportunity to commute properly. Inspired by my husband and you ladies here, I thought that maybe I could "commute" by running some of my errands on my Surly-Girl "Ethel". I make regular trips to the post office for work every week (9 miles round trip) plus other trips (bank, library, hardware store) that I could certainly do on a bike. I had gotten as far on this plan as asking my son if I could use his old backpack, the one with the hole in the bottom.
Today at about 10 minutes before 4:00, as I am about to leave (in the car) for the post office with an express mail package, my son shows up in the kitchen with the backpack. "See the hole isn't that big Mom. Not big enough for a letter to slip through." So, I am thinking, "what better time than the present?" The post office doesn't close until 4:30. Just 4 miles. Plenty of time. It's about 42 degrees, damp and very windy. I spend about 10 minutes getting my gear on. I've been wanting to try my new Terry heavy weight tights so this is the perfect opportunity to try them out. If I'm too hot, well, it's a short ride. At 4:00 I'm starting down the driveway. The wind is really whipping and I've been sitting at my desk all day so brrrr.... I think maybe I better trade this heavy jersey in for my windbreaker. A quick trip back to the house. Off comes the backpack and the jersey. On with the Windstopper. I was proud of myself for remembering to get the credit card out of the pocket of the jersey. At 4:03 I jump back on Ethel, down the driveway. I get out to the road and realize that something is wrong. I'd forgotten the backpack with the extremely important express package!! This wouldn't be so bad, but our driveway is 1/4 mile long, gravel, with a very steep grade returning to the house. I turn around, put her into granny gear and head back up to the house. I'd never climbed our drive that fast! I'm thinking maybe I better give up and jump in my car. This package must go today. But darn, I hate for my first try at commuting to be a failure. Maybe the second try, but not the first! It's 4:09 by the time I retrieve the package. 4 hilly miles. Hmmm... quick calculation... plenty of time.
Back on Ethel. Back down the driveway. Pedaling as hard as I can. I didn't know the Surly Girl can go that fast! Three miles in. A gradual climb the whole way. I check my iPhone. 4:20. Dang, it's Friday, holiday weekend, quiet country post office (I'm the biggest customer). I'll be there in 5 minutes but I hope the postmaster doesn't close early! I'm pedaling fast up the last hill, steering with the left hand, calling my son with the right, "Call the post office and tell Postmaster Eileen to wait for me!!" (Do you know that you can't dial an iPhone with your gloves on, but you can dial with your tongue?!?) "Chill Mom, you have 10 minutes."
I make it to the post office with 5 minutes to spare, sweating buckets, nose running, laughing my a** off. Package successfully delivered, I came home the long way at a leisurely pace, enjoying the cool darkening evening, the Christmas lights, and I decided my first "commute" was a success.
Today at about 10 minutes before 4:00, as I am about to leave (in the car) for the post office with an express mail package, my son shows up in the kitchen with the backpack. "See the hole isn't that big Mom. Not big enough for a letter to slip through." So, I am thinking, "what better time than the present?" The post office doesn't close until 4:30. Just 4 miles. Plenty of time. It's about 42 degrees, damp and very windy. I spend about 10 minutes getting my gear on. I've been wanting to try my new Terry heavy weight tights so this is the perfect opportunity to try them out. If I'm too hot, well, it's a short ride. At 4:00 I'm starting down the driveway. The wind is really whipping and I've been sitting at my desk all day so brrrr.... I think maybe I better trade this heavy jersey in for my windbreaker. A quick trip back to the house. Off comes the backpack and the jersey. On with the Windstopper. I was proud of myself for remembering to get the credit card out of the pocket of the jersey. At 4:03 I jump back on Ethel, down the driveway. I get out to the road and realize that something is wrong. I'd forgotten the backpack with the extremely important express package!! This wouldn't be so bad, but our driveway is 1/4 mile long, gravel, with a very steep grade returning to the house. I turn around, put her into granny gear and head back up to the house. I'd never climbed our drive that fast! I'm thinking maybe I better give up and jump in my car. This package must go today. But darn, I hate for my first try at commuting to be a failure. Maybe the second try, but not the first! It's 4:09 by the time I retrieve the package. 4 hilly miles. Hmmm... quick calculation... plenty of time.
Back on Ethel. Back down the driveway. Pedaling as hard as I can. I didn't know the Surly Girl can go that fast! Three miles in. A gradual climb the whole way. I check my iPhone. 4:20. Dang, it's Friday, holiday weekend, quiet country post office (I'm the biggest customer). I'll be there in 5 minutes but I hope the postmaster doesn't close early! I'm pedaling fast up the last hill, steering with the left hand, calling my son with the right, "Call the post office and tell Postmaster Eileen to wait for me!!" (Do you know that you can't dial an iPhone with your gloves on, but you can dial with your tongue?!?) "Chill Mom, you have 10 minutes."
I make it to the post office with 5 minutes to spare, sweating buckets, nose running, laughing my a** off. Package successfully delivered, I came home the long way at a leisurely pace, enjoying the cool darkening evening, the Christmas lights, and I decided my first "commute" was a success.