Motorists envy my parallel parking skills.
Remember when I was a bright-eyed new-comer to the Mile-high City?
This past week, I celebrated my one-year anniversary of residence in Denver.
That got me thinking about my move last year, from my native land of northwest Indiana back here to my beloved Centennial State. I thought about all the boxes packed. I thought about all the goodbyes said. I thought about all the miles driven. I thought about my moving truck.
I parallel-parked that moving truck like it was nobody’s business.
I know there are more important skills in life than parallel parking—dinner cooking, resume writing, and schedule managing to name a few. But we all know how satisfying it is to step out of the car and see the wheels nearly flush against the curb.
Even we non-motoring folk know a perfect parallel parking job gives a feeling that has few equivalents.
In the course of my move-in, I had to park that thing three times, and all three times I nailed it. I felt so jolly about it I took pictures!
I can’t say why I nailed it exactly. Maybe trucks, with no deceptive trunk space, are easier to park
than cars. Maybe cycling has a curious way of developing vehicle parallel parking skills. Maybe it was luck.
Or maybe, just maybe, that pristine park job was my first sign that I was in the right place—and still am a year later.