It was a Saturday and the day was full of joyous sunshine and smiles. My husband and I decided to rent a tandem bicycle and bike the coastal trail here in Alaska. What a lovely idea I thought when my husband suggested it. A bicycle built for two, how romantic is that? Surely it would bring us closer together and set the stage for a lovely day of togetherness and harmony.
The gentlemen renting the bike to us was so polite and accommodating, he adjusted the seats and the handlebars so that we could ride comfortably, all the while smiling and talking about what a beautiful day it was for riding a bike.
The first hint of what was yet to come occurred the very minute we left the rental booth and found ourselves going down a rather large hill with a flat front tire. My husband applied the brakes only to discover that there weren’t any brakes; or at least not enough to bring us to a stop. Tourists had to jump out of the way for their own safety as we could not steer the bike with a flat front tire and we could not stop with the small amount of brakes available. One poor gentleman will probably never be able to talk about his visit to Alaska again without developing a serious stutter.
Once we arrived at the bottom of the hill and came to a semi-complete stop we turned the bike around to push it back up the hill. The man at the rental booth was dismayed at our early return and offered us a different tandem bike; one that looked like it was put together in the late 1920’s by a one handed blind Cyclops. We declined this generous offer even though the rental guy said that it was the most comfortable bike ever made. After some deliberations and inspections the rental guy put a new tire on the original tandem bike and adjusted the wiring on the brakes for us then sent us on our way. You would have thought that we would have just taken a refund and sought other activities but we are a determined couple and “change of plans” is just not a part of our vocabulary.
This time when we got to the bottom of the hill we were actually pleasantly surprised that everything seemed to be in working order so we went forth on the trail where we just knew a great yet romantic adventure lay in store for us. The air had the crisp smell of the ocean and the sun was just warm enough to preclude needing a jacket. All was good.
We learned some valuable lessons that day, the first being that when you come upon a t-junction in the trail the person on the front of the bike needs to let the person on the back of the bike know which direction you will be heading. Why you ask? Because if the person in front believes you are going to go to the left and thus leans his body that way and the person in the back believes you are going to go to the right and she leans her body in that direction you will end up cancelling each other out and flying straight ahead into the devils club.
Okay, every adventure has some mishaps; that’s what makes it an adventure, right? So, after a short break to pull the thorns out of our butts we pressed onwards into that gorgeous day looking for romance and togetherness. It wasn’t long before we came upon our first upwards hill, this is when we discovered that when I use my handlebars as leverage in order to apply more pressure to the peddles it moves my husbands’ seat and sends him sideways. Panic ensued as my husband attempted to go straight while the rest of his body was trying to face to the right. No worries, I thought, I will just wrench the handlebars in the other direction thus righting him; this action quickly led to a rather loud burst of screaming that sent all wild life in the general vicinity packing.
The coastal trail was getting a little bumpy and it was making my ‘sit down’ a little bit sore so we decided to exit the coastal trail for some nicely paved bike trails. As we approached the first crossing of a very busy street, the chain of this hell-bike reached up and grabbed my pant leg. Ack! I yelled as I began a tug of war with the chain. I lost that battle and found myself fighting to keep my pants up as one side was slowly being pulled down to reveal my lovely flower print undergarments to the now stopped and staring line of cars.
“Dear God and Goddess please let me get struck by lightning so that I never have to face these people again.” Was my mantra for the rest of the ride.
Now, you may ask, what more could possibly happen to these good people? Well, we learned a few more lessons that day and we have the bruises to prove it. For instance, if the person on the back of the bike needs to stop peddling for any reason they should take their feet off of the peddles because their peddles are connected to the peddles of the person on the front of the bike and when the peddles stop suddenly then the person whom is still trying to peddle has issues with their feet slipping and ramming into the unforgiving medal of the now stationary peddles.
The next lesson we, or rather I, learned was that if a bicycle seat is adjusted to that it is slightly pointed upwards in the front it has a tendency to bruise certain unmentionable areas…for several weeks.
Forget romance and togetherness, at this point all we wanted was a shot of whiskey with a vodka chaser and perhaps a small bonfire with a bicycle at its epicenter. I will never again be able to hear the song ‘A bicycle built for two’ without needing to be medicated.
No comments:
Post a Comment