Monday was an earlier than normal finish, allowing a daylight run to be squeezed in, just. Another mini-adventure, packed into the falling light, of dirt trails, hilly woodland, fields and village alleyways, many of which led to areas I didn't even know existed. New turf, all within 10 km from home. I hadn't realised to quite what extent riding has been restricting my local knowledge.
Tuesday was pencilled in for a 'steady' ride on the 29er, on the roads. I posted a late offer on the club page for people to come along on as it would be unfit/novice/very steady rider friendly and it wouldn't matter what bikes were being ridden. Unfortunately, an hour wasn't enough notice and another solo ride was on the cards.
Then Steve appeared with this:
His 1930's Hercules Tandem, dragged out the shed and ready to go. It's been sat there for a while, needing a rear gear cable, but the basics are all in working order.
It was pretty scary to start. I wasn't sure whether my arm would take it as you do need to self balance and hold the bars on the back and I didn't have a lot of faith in the brakes. However, Steve was very careful and happy to take it as steady until I was used to it. Then I loved it, it was just brilliant. Once I got used to the fact it was no use trying to look ahead as a) I couldn't see and b) even if I could, there was nothing I would be able to do to control the situation, I actually really enjoyed being a true passenger, nosing at the village as we whizzed through.
We weren't out for long, what with only two working gears, a too-short seat post up front, and some savage saddles, a short loop was enough. Enough to know it would be worth spending a little time on it, swapping those seats and getting it ready for summer evening socials.
It's been nothing but excitement for the last three weeks. Yay for broken arms, eh?