Our Bike Messenger For A Day Battles The Cold, TheClock And The Crazies On The Crowded Streets
By Stephen Ravenscraft
Chicago Tribune, May 6, 1997
Usually on any weekday morning, I'm sitting at my desk at work doingsome safe task. But on a recent chilly morning, I was nervously perchedon a chair at the On the Fly bike messenger service. I was waiting to meetthe professional messenger I was gonna shadow for the day.
Bike messengers deliver packages to businesses. On days with great weather(about two months of the year in Chicago), it looks like a fantastic job.But often, messengers battle rain, snow, ice, wind and subzero temperatures.And they always have to deal with traffic, taxis and slow elevators thatget in the way of getting the job done on time. (Many deliveries must becompleted in 30 minutes or less, and plenty in 15 minutes or less.)
My personal guide entered. His walkie-talkie was strapped across hischest like a warrior's sword, and his carrier bag hung on his back likea quiver waiting to be filled with arrows. He was covered with layers ofclothes. He lifted his shades, threw a friendly "Hey!" my wayand introduced himself as Rod Richardson. Soon we were on our way.
As we rode to our first pickup a few miles away, I got the idea thatRod was a free-spirited guy who enjoyed sailing through the streets. Wemoved swiftly through traffic. Suddenly, as we turned to make our way througha loading zone, a red sports car flew out from behind a truck. Rod veeredspeedily to avoid a metal mash -and I followed!
After we were safely clear, I noticed that Rod was way calm, despitethe fact he almost bit the dust seconds earlier. He shook his head andsmiled.
Our first pickup was some sort of object loosely wrapped in brown paper.I started to imagine all of the strange things a messenger has to transport..
"Videotapes and paper are some of the tougher things to carry,"Rod said, because they can get really heavy..
And big packages can catch the wind and make staying upright nearlyimpossible. "It's like a sail on a boat," Rod said..
In the next hour, we made four deliveries. The start and finish werepretty boring; Rod would just sign for the transfer of the package. Itwas the path between that made for a thrilling ride. For one thing, Rodcould motor!
We usually moved as fast as or faster than the traffic. Things got scarywhen we made our way between cars with just a few feet between them. Attimes I felt like a greased pig slipping through the hands of an axe-wieldingbutcher. Cars would close in and we would slip by. Buses and taxis werethe most intimidating; I was never certain if the drivers knew we werethere (or cared).
But Rod was smooth. With one swift move he could be yards ahead of meor out of sight. I took his advice and never tried to force my way throughjust to stay close to him.
Rod compared his job to a living video game. You know, smack a commuterzombie and you get extra points. My goal was just to stay alive.
By the end of my day we had made more than 20 deliveries in five hours.Rod said that was a slow day. But I didn't care -I was still kicking, andit had been a wild ride!
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