An Invitation

’Twas the tenth of December And all through the town, Not a pedal was moving, Neither up-stroke nor down. Most cyclists were snuggling, All warm by the fire. They’d stored, for the winter, Their cycling attire. But at Cycle Fitness The tandem group met. “If it isn’t winter, We’re not done riding yet!” All dressed in their layers Of lycra and fleece, Neoprene booties, Gloves spotted with grease, They rode from the lot As the clock rung out two, Stocked up on their Power Bars, Water and Gu. “Let’s go left,” calls their leader, In a powerful voice. His stoker/wife follows (She hasn’t much choice!) Up the roadway they fly, Like leaves on the breeze, Hunkered down in the wind So their noses won’t freeze. They shift down a gear And turn right up a hill, Working just hard enough To fend off autumn’s chill. The group stays together, With a pace that’s so gentle, An amateur racer Would think that they’re mental!

But they’re out there for fun; That’s the name of the game. To leave someone behind Would be nasty and lame! As they pedal through woods, And along by a stream, ’Tis clear they’re all smiling; Oh, how their eyes gleam! What fun they are having, What a joy to behold! Gracefully gliding, Not feeling the cold! To share in that happiness, Such joie-de-vivre! Their legs as they’re pumping, Their chests as they heave! Up and down hills, Through the back-roads they go! Chatting amicably, Their cheeks all a-glow! They welcome all comers, So we can go too! Bring our bikes and our helmets, That’s all we need do! The ride isn’t long, Fifteen miles or less! They stop for some cocoa, And doughnuts (oh, yes!) If you have any questions, Buzz can answer them fine. Call him at 7… 35-1459. And now our group wishes To all a good ride, And to every cyclist, A warm winter-tide!

Freedom Ride In March

We hear that freedom’s on the march, And now March comes to bear, With longer days and brighter sun, And springtime in the air. Come celebrate the new-found warmth, Bring tandem and a friend, As o’er the hills we climb and dip, And through the woods we wend. Tho’ winter’s been a long time here, He’s fin’ly packed it in. So come on out and join our group, As we go for a spin. We’ll demonstrate how free we are, By riding two-by-twos, So all the world can clearly see, That we are free to choose, To spend our afternoon outside, Unbridle by our cares, With smiles of satisfaction great, At folks’ envious stares. If you have but a one-seat bike, We still will welcome you, So come on out and don’t be shy, ’Tis the fun thing to do!

To start our cycling season, We’ll meet out in the lot, Of our local cycle shop, Come give our ride a shot. The date is as agreed upon, So mark your schedule soon. Or you’ll miss out on all the fun, And feel like such a goon. It’s early in the season, friends, We will not ride too far, An easy start is what we need, In May we’ll raise the bar. Our riding pace is never fast, We’re working more for smiles, Than to impress some other folk, By zipping through the miles. We won’t leave anyone behind, That’s not the way it works. We want to make new cycling friends, Not prove that we are jerks. Now cast off winter’s fetters cold, For sunshine and fresh air. Enjoy the freedom we’ve been giv’n, From winter, cold and bare.

   Early In the Season

April is in my partner's legs,
While July at his pace begs.
             And though it's balmy as September,
       Quads are frozen like December.

 

Riding in a Winter      Wonderland    Tho’ the weather outside is freezin’    That’s normal for this season.    If we dress like an Eskimo,    For a ride on our tandem we’ll go.    If the wind is blowing real cold,    Duck behind me to warm up your nose.    Remember your booties, too,    Or you will freeze off your toes!    While the scenery’s colours ain’t bright,    The snow’s a lovely white!    If the road isn’t packed with snow,    For a ride on our tandem we’ll go!

 Many people are not aware that in his later years, Walt Whitman was an avid tandemist.  The following poem was recently uncovered, penned after a day out with a partner, on which occasion, Mr. Whitman found himself playing the part of the stoker.

 

Captain! My Captain! O Captain! my Captain! our trip has just begun, Our bike will weather every rack, until our trip is done, On sidewalks near, the calls I hear, the people all are pointing, While follow eyes the steady wheel, the vessel sleek and daring;            But joy! joy! joy!              O the speeding streak of red,                 Where on our bike my Captain rides,                    Helmet on his head. O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear my yell: Rise up–to you I say slow down–for this I ring the bell, To you I shout and sound the alarm–to you I send the warning, To you I call, I slap your rear, my worried face is paling;             Hey, Captain! dear partner!                I’m fully filled with dread!                   It is your dream that our bike fly,                      Your helmet on your head. My Captain does not answer, his lips are tight and still, My partner does not hear my shout, he does not heed my will, The brakes go on, I hear their sound, our flight is rolled a-back, From fearful speed our bike  slows down my grip is going slack;            Exult O heart! and slow, O pulse!               As I with fear a-fled,                  Love this bike my Captain rides,                     Helmet on his head.

When told that many visitors to this page found it while searching for "O Captain My Captain," an English teacher friend supplied the following response:   Fooled Again There once was a man named Buzz, Who penned tandem poems just because He knew folks would read Ev'rything that they see'd, When Whitman's they thought that it was.

Francis Scott Key was, unknown to many historians, lucky enough to be among the first to ride experimental tandems.  In the months just before his death, he wrote about the experience:
 

Oh, say, I can’t see,           ’Round My captain so wide!           What’s the road do ahead;           Is it up-hill or down-hill?           His broad butt hides the view,           Except off to the side.           Are there bumps coming up?           It’s a mystery still!           And the smell of his sweat,           Makes my eyes go all wet!           If I only could drive,           Then I would be all set!           Oh, say, this isn’t all bad,           He’s blocking the cold breeze,           That would turn my hands to ice,           So my nose will not freeze!

 
 
 

There once was a man with a tandem. Single bikes, he couldn't stand 'em!     His partner and he     Would fly past them with glee. They outran 'em because they out manned 'em.

There once was a pair with a tandem, Whose circuitous routes were at random.     They'd ride out from their house,     Husband and spouse, And ride centuries though they'd not planned 'em!

 

December 31, 2001     A change is a-comin',     A year that is new.     A great time for Tandems,     It’s twenty-aught two!     We sure wouldn’t want     To cause any trouble,     But here’s an idea:     Get a bike that’s a double.     Riding all by yourself      Is horribly boring.     With two times the motor     You feel like you’re soaring!     Whether rented or owned,     It’s a great lot of fun     To ride with a friend,     Or a sib, or your Hon.     So give it a try,     You’ve nothing to fear!     Don’t put it off,     ‘Cause it’s just the right year!

Poor Ruth! In new-wed bliss dear Ruth did ride, Upon a tandem bike. With stern new husband in control, His name was "Iron" Mike. A branch hung low across the path, For all the world to see. Mike ducked the limb, which struck his bride, And rode on ruthlessly!