Death of a Watermelon Part II

Let's recap... months of planning on how to transport the Watermelon (wm) from the Duck Fruitstand back to the vacation house. Mode of Transport: 21 speed hybrid bike. Carrier of wm: milk crated secured to bike luggage rack with bungee cords. Here we go.

It's a bright sunny June day in the Outer Banks it had rained the day before but for the most part a good day to make watermelon transportation history. Yes I am feeling good. I have my rig set to go. I set off for the fruitstand and in no time I am paying for the 15lb melon. I am delirious with anticipation on this epic journey. This is like Lewis and Clark, Thor Heyerdahl, Neil Armstrong and Jean-luc Picard all rolled into one.

I secure the melon in the crate, carefully trying to evenly distribute the weight. No easy task I might add. It's like balancing a 15 lb ball of silly putty. Well I do my best, but it ain't good enough.

I start pedaling and I am thinking the load shift is a little hard to handle, but I CAN DO THIS. To describe the route back home I have to cross Route 12 and then peddle up Wampum Drive a little ways until it levels off down to the house. Okay Route 12 is a freakin nightmare, there are cars, trucks, SUVs packed with family vacation paraphernalia and so on. I cautiously and patiently wait for the break in the traffic so I can make my move. Ok wait for the eighteen wheeler to pass and we are ready for launch. Awesome, the driver is waving me across. I start pedaling and I am saying in my head "10-4 good buddy catch you on the flip-flop". Off I go crossing 12 with the watermelon in transit, man this is cool I am high as a kite. Okay settle down I say make the turn up Wampum drive and we make history baby. I make the turn onto Wampum and what is under my tires - holy shit I am screwed with a capital MFin' S. Sand and little pebbles that had washed down from the rain to the intersection of 12 and Wampum.

Well my front tire slides diagonally, the bike tips over and my precious cargo hits the road with a resounding thud cracks and rolls out into Route 12 traffic. "Shit", "Shit", "Shit" I holler as I hop off the bike and chase down my melon.

I gathered the melon - actually parts of it, threw it in the crate and walked the bike back home. I am really bummed, but needless to say the family got a good laugh and after several Natty bohs I was over it... well not really