Constitution Poker on wheels

I remember riding a tandem once before in my life. I think I might have been about 12 years old and I think I somehow convinced my Mom that it would be fun to ride a tandem around West Palm Beach, Florida and look at all the grand homes. I think my initial instinct at the time was that the grown-up should drive. My best recollection is that after some initial struggles, Mom decided that we should switch places and things got better after that. My first "serious" bike purchase was during high school when I bought my Raleigh Grand Prix 10-speed. I was probably about 17 at that time. Thus, since my first tandem experience pre-dates what I consider my cycling career by about 5 years, it's very nearly accurate to say that I'd never ridden a tandem before yesterday.

I think that the general public has a highly romanticized fondness for tandems. I know that when I see a couple riding a tandem or see one on a car rack, I feel this internal sigh of contentment tinged with a touch of jealousy for the happy couple who get to share in this way. I mean seriously, who can think of "Daisy, Daisy, on a bicycle built for two" without smiling at least a little? But I suspect that for most folks this perception is based on never actually having tried to ride a tandem. In my opinion, riding a tandem is not easy. The bike is extrordinarilly long and it's heavy, especially when compared with my carbon-fiber Trek. The need for communication is tremendous. In short, it's not like riding a bike!

Our first attempt to get started riding nearly ended a few feet from our launch point in a heap of flesh and steel, but thankfully I was able to keep us upright and abort the launch safely. In the spirit of learning to ride a bike all over again, I quickly realized that even as a six or eight year-old I had recognized that it was much easier to get started on a downgrade rather then an upgrade. Even though the slope of the street out in front of the house was gentle, I was headed uphill. My 30+ years of cycling history have led me to arrogantly dismiss the gentle grade as inconsequential. The narrowly averted disaster has put a whole new perspective on things. We switched to the other side of the road and gave it another shot. I think there was a moment of dangerous foot shuffling before our wobbly downhill roll seemed sustainably stable. At about this moment, I realized the problem: Nobody was pedalling! "Pedal!" I said in a panicky voice. Suddenly the pedals are moving out from under my feet in a pretty disconcerting way. But almost as quicky, the familliar sense of gyroscopic stability takes over and we're cruising down the street. In a moment of triumph tinged with a residual fear of impending disaster, I exclaim, "Holy shit!"

After a few turns, Kristi thinks perhaps we should stop. In my most reassuring voice I explain that I want to wait until we are in front of the house again before coming to a full stop. I add that the reason for this is that I don't want to have to run any further than necessary should bandages be needed. Thus inspired, we negotiate a few more turns before overshooting my targeted stopping point by at least a car length! Man! It seems to take a lot of work to stop this rig!

The decal on the top tube with the model name "Vision" is slightly worn away and because of the lettering style, it looks like it could have originally read "Bison." Given the difference in handling between the tandem and my single bikes, the lumbering of a buffalo seems like an appropriate basis for a name for this beast. I'm sure that eventually I'll be quite comfortable on this bike and the handling will become a non-issue. Until then, the new bike is "The Bison."

What is constitution poker? More about that later but let's just call this a winning hand!

The view from the back...

"Holy shit!!! Pedal like hell! Holy shit! Pedal like hell!!!" This it the mantra I hear from my captain!, the confident bike rider I am to trust with my life. This was comedy deluxe and quite a rush!
A rough start on bison, however a few wobbles later we were flying down the road. We pick up speed rapidly and before any confidence is gained it's time for a turn. "Holy shit!" I hear as we take the entire road to maneuver the turn. We rode a quick few blocks, navigate several turns... we are best at the left turn. Upon our arrival home, we discover one of the back brakes is unhooked. Could that be why it handles like a bison and stops like a fully loaded semi... (he would not be calling his stoker, a load would he?