You may well ask. On leaving the building this evening, the comically obscene weight of my messenger bag made me think I’d probably taken it with me. In line with the universal rule of nothing ever being big enough (M25, Overdrafts, er you can guess the rest), the voluminous sack into which I courier my life is overflowing with random stuff. For example:
Fleece (yes I appreciate I am little overlayered for the current weather but once you’ve frozen irreplaceable extremities during a March snow storm, paranoia sets it)
Spare Inner Tube
Pump with Co2 Canister
Spare Co2 Canister
Sufficient tools to play the toolbox in the A team
Laptop, PDA and other assorted but rarely used electronics
Apples, Gel Packs, Unidentified squelshy forgotten fruit
I think you get the idea. It’s a nattily upholstered wardrobe being ferried the thick end of twenty miles a day. I wouldn’t care if I actually used any of it but the pump instructions have mated with the fermenting fruit and the tools appear to have been selected on their total inappropriateness for fixing anything on either bike. I dunno who I’m kidding “ if anything broke from a puncture upwards, I’d just find a bike shop or abandon it in the hedge and buy a new one.
But my shoulders are now of mismatched heights and without the bag attached, I find myself still compensating for the weight and walking round in confused circles. So it’ time for a spot of ruthless life laundry except for the fleece and the waterproof and maybe the inner tube¦ my friends Mark and Ruth have embarked on a two season tour of Europe with significantly less stuff. Still bet they wished they’d packed that squirrel just in case.
The diet goes on. I nearly baulked at the thin water based gruel this morning especially as a pile of cooked bacon was riding shotgun on the next table. Maybe I just need to spice it up through the addition of a shot of vodka or a dead badger. Trust me, nothing could make it taste any worse.
Five days without beer. The face that I’m counting them is fairly conclusive proof of a possible dependency. And on days as warm and sticky as this, wouldn’t it be great to ride home, slam the fridge door open and grab a super chilled beer? Still I’m sure a lovely lime cordial will taste almost as good.