The Family Father

One thing was clear: it was perfect weather for cycling. That’s to say, it wasn’t. It was already hot despite it being only 8:30. Unless the would-be cyclists were ultra fit or particularly hard-nosed masochists, I had visions of wilting knees before lunch.

My current concern, however, was another. Four full-sized bikes were leaning on their stands behind the open boot of an estate car.

“Did all those come out of there?” I asked the family father.

“No, I took them off the roof.”

One glance at the bike rack on top of the car was evidence enough. However, the thirty-something wasn’t done yet. “Not even I could have managed that!”

What was that, I wondered, “Not even I”? It spoke of a self-confidence which I spent the rest of the day in awe of. I don’t think there’s anything on the planet which “not even I” can do.