Candy and a currant bun

The tandem, what, in all that is holy, ever inspired a man to create that infernal object of debasement? As earlier mentioned, Mikeal, he of the monkey gland and monkey hand, and I rode the object of terror this afternoon.

The plan we had agreed on was that I would be on the front, and he would be in the rear. Earlier Mikeal had suggested that we just get on and ride the thing, even suggesting riding the metal roads of the Coromandel as a way of getting used to it. He nagged, suggesting an afternoon's cruise through pre-rush hour traffic on Tamaki Drive, complete with traffic lights and other road-users.

Thankfully a modicum of caution prevailed. Dressed inappropriately we attempted our first ride, slightly downhill, on the footpath, thinking that having grass either side would be a good thing. We started, stuttered, wobbled, cursed and never got up to any pace greater than walking. The problem was that the rear component of the human factor was unable to relax and leave the control to the front half, as a consequence, his attempted steering, moving his body and cursing, made steering for me all but impossible and the tandem writhed like a worm in hot water. Coordinated pedalling was impossible. Dignity was stripped in an instant. Grave doubts assailed us.

We decided that maybe we swap positions, with me in the rear, being slightly more relaxed, but still terrified. This time we set off down the road, around the corner and down a stretch of straight road, it all went pretty well. We stopped in a drive, turned the ocean liner around and set off again, wobbling badly, with curses flying from the front half. We amused a car load of onlookers with the sight of two grown men looking terrified on a bike, together, in decidedly non-cycling appropriate apparel, the front wearing jandals and the back in red band gumboots. We managed to turn the corner and ride up the slight rise to the safety of home. There we contemplated what lay ahead.

With a few modifications, bike shoes on this time, we headed out in the rain for another brief sortie. This went much better, with straightline being straightline. Problem was that the street was slightly downhill and wet, ending with a T intersection with a major arterial road. The front half started braking, and found the brakes were a little wanting, the back half, me, started to get very anxious and rapidly assess a way to abandon ship. Finally, after several, eternal seconds we halted without entering the arterial road. Heart in mouth stuff.

We turned the beast around and rode home. Bewildered, but not beaten.

There is going to be a moderate amount of practise required before the end of November methinks.