TANDEMS AND THE RATIONAL.
The Tandem is a cycle in which two riders are mounted, one in front of
the other, upon the same machine. We have the tandem tricycle, which is
a two- or three-track machine on the tricycle principle, and the tandem
bicycle, or single-track machine with two wheels.
Of the tandem tricycle I shall have little to say, as my experience
does not justify the attempt; also of the single tricycle I cannot give
much of an account. This book does not pretend to treat of man-motor
carriages so generally as to include all of the two- or three-track
devices, nor of the three- or four-in-hand. Latterly remarkable records
have been made on a “triplet,” and we hope this machine is all that
is claimed for it. But there is too great a step from a single-track
machine to the double or triple to treat of them all, so for the
present I shall confine myself principally to that class in which the
rider is maintained in an upright position by means of steering.
The only single-track tandem which now bids fair to attain any
conspicuous position is that built upon the Rover Safety principle,
where two low wheels support two saddles and the rear wheel is made
the driver by means of a series of sprocket-chains and cranks. No
lever-motion machine, for two, of any pattern, has as yet made an
appearance in the market. It is quite probable that the rear-driving
tandem will acquire an enviable place in the sphere of cycling, and
it certainly deserves to be enthusiastically welcomed among us. Very
few cyclers care to take a spin all alone, and it takes two riders
at least to make company: why not then mount them sociably upon one
vehicle? Surely the tandem method must steadily gain favor, and when
it is finally and securely launched in our midst, we shall derive much
pleasure from its use, and for touring it must become invaluable.
No doubt a very little increase of weight of parts and cost can and
will finally serve two happy cyclists. When this is accomplished it
will take but little palaver to sell to touring parties at once,
since one machine, even if of double weight, can be handled, in many
cases, by two men much more easily than each can handle a light one
alone. The Tandem takes up less space in a railroad car than two
separate machines, and any store-room can be made to accommodate an
increased number of saddles. The machines will mostly be made for each
to accommodate both a lady and gentleman or two gentlemen, as may be
preferred, and on this account they will, at some not far distant time,
partially supplant single mounts. Some will also be made convertible;
that is, capable of being divided into two single cycles. It is hardly
probable that machines for more than two will ever become general, at
least not for social riding; no better reason can be given than the old
saw, “two’s company and three’s a crowd.” We do not, however, venture
to prophesy positively about multiple riding (that is, more than
double), since it has a start now, and there is no telling where it
will end.
In experimenting on tandem bicycles, I have found one difficulty
which, so far, has been very serious; it is the tendency of switching
between the riders; that is to say, the twist of the machine. It is
difficult to make a frame strong enough to prevent this, since the
rear end has to be kept perpendicular by means of a direct twist on
a long backbone. Both riders cannot be uprighted as the same weight
can be when it is all centred in one spot. It is the distribution of
the weight more than the amount of it that causes the trouble. It is
well known that a man of two hundred and fifty pounds avoirdupois can
ride without much trouble, but two men of one hundred and twenty-five
pounds each, sitting two feet apart, will strain a single-track machine
tremendously; this annoyance will not be finally escaped by means of
mere strength of parts. Some novel arrangement of the wheels, saddles,
or other mechanism will have to be called into play to modify the
unsightly length of the present tandem bicycles, though it is not right
to disparage them on account of it. Much objection has been raised to
the “shape of the thing,” but since the advent of the Safety bicycles,
appearance must take a second place to that which it held when we sat
perched upon the noble old Ordinaries. If we must slip along the ground
like beetles, let us not be too fastidious as to just how we look.
Let the Tandem come on; and be received with open arms. Those of us who
are a little weak want to make a combination with some flyers, to make
up our deficiencies in scorching runs. If we can get on the rear seat
and eat doughnuts part of the time, so much the better.
THE RATIONAL ORDINARY.
As the above term seems to be indigenous to England, and emanates
indirectly from the fertile brain of the distinguished editor of the
_Cyclist_, I append below a quotation from that journal by way of
introduction to this subject.
“THE FUTURE OF THE ORDINARY.
“‘The Ordinary is doomed,’ we very frequently hear people say,
but we are not of that opinion. True, it has ‘had its nose put
out of joint’ by the Safety lately, but this only shows us the
correctness of the opinions we have always held, and proves to us
that, if the makers will only look after the safety and comfort
of Ordinary riders a little more, the old love for the high wheel
will return, and good business will result. In the introduction to
the ‘Indispensable Bicyclists’ Hand-Book’ this year we say; ‘The
Ordinary bicycle, for the young and active, is the most delightful
form of cycle to possess, and the youth of England and other active
nations will ever select it in preference to its perhaps safer,
yet more cumbrous rival. To retain its hold as a touring machine,
however, I feel certain that more attention must be paid to the
comfort and comparative safety of the rider, and I hope to see in
the near future a gradual inclination towards larger back wheels,
more rake, longer cranks, and the addition of foot-rests, when the
ordinary and original machine will, with common care, be equal in
safety to any form of cycle extant.’...
“This being so, we ask makers, in their own interests and in the
interests of the Ordinary as a type, to deal with the matter and
give attention to the points enumerated above. We are sure it
would pay any maker, who has the proper facilities for doing so,
to place a machine built as described vigorously on the market,
and we hope next season to see it done, when we feel assured the
rationally-built Ordinary will gradually work its way back into the
public estimation.”
In spite of the laudatory notices of subsequent writers in the
_Cyclist_, I am not disposed to treat this subject seriously. If not
already consigned to oblivion, no doubt the ideas advanced in the
foregoing quotation will be by the time this book reaches the reader;
something must be said about it, however, since the importance of the
question is now quite generally felt. To long cranks little objection
can be made, but as to increased rake and large rear wheels, this is a
thrust at the heart of all we have to admire in the Ordinary. We are
willing to take the old mount with all its dangers, for the sake of
its neat appearance and ease of running, but when we get back nearly
off the large wheel; when we reach out to the end of a longer crank;
when we get over and drag along after us a great ungainly rear wheel
to wag about over the road; and lastly, when we strike at the life
of easy steering, pray what have we left? Why not go back to the old
bone-shaker, curl up like a sleeping chimpanzee and kick up in the air
as we used to do, and be done with it? No! If we propose to stick to
the old high perch, let us be men and take it as it has been perfected,
neat and comfortable, with the rider upon the front wheel and within
a reasonable distance of the point over his work. If not that, then
let us gracefully accept our place down among the dogs, and take the
Safety, depending upon having so little else to attend to that we can
kick off the festive canines and take up the time we would otherwise
spend in patching up our skin with sticking plaster, in wiping off the
accumulated dust from our machines.
No man can edit a journal without making mistakes, and I shall
probably find that books cannot be written without incurring the same
liability, but for all this we cannot excuse the _Rational_. The more
generally correct an editor is the more keenly we feel his freaks;
so let this be my defence in noticing this little idiosyncratic
perturbation of Mr. Sturmey’s otherwise infallible intellect.