I've just spent a couple of nights in Canberra after returning Max to home base. Dot on the other hand stayed in Sydney to look after her ailing brother, Dick.
Not having ridden my bike for a couple of days, I was beginning to suffer withdrawal symptoms and one of the things I managed to cram in during my short visit was a cycling trip (sort of) around the shores Lake Burley Griffin. The mode of transport was, however, strange. Instead of two wheels it had four. And in a design sense it resembled a model T Ford c. 1920, though with one major difference. Ford himself preferred colour (or should I say color) black, but our model was bright red with a splash of yellow. And while you've all heard of "a bicycle made for two", the vehicle shown below seated three.
Like the early model Ts - or just about early motor car - the appointments were rather crude: a very simple brake, little suspension and no gears. The last-named made cycling up even gentle hills rather difficult. However, it did come with two steering wheels, but Bec's worked while mine didn't and I automatically tried to steer the contraption to great frustration. We even let Max steer for part of the journey, but that was dangerous because the little fellow had crazy ideas about what constitutes a straight line. It also had two sets of working bike chains and pedals, which was just as well when it came to going up hill.
As you can imagine, our model T version was nothing like a racing bike but we attempted the world speed record for such a machine and, after pedaling furiously along a flat stretch, we managed about 10 kph! No-one was around though to verify our claim, so we won't make the Guinness Book of Records. By the way, Emily, our route took us to spot you'll probably remember - the Carillon. It's still there but we discovered the designers omitted to include sufficient turning space for a model T bike. Going the other way, we almost reached the National Museum.
AS
Not having ridden my bike for a couple of days, I was beginning to suffer withdrawal symptoms and one of the things I managed to cram in during my short visit was a cycling trip (sort of) around the shores Lake Burley Griffin. The mode of transport was, however, strange. Instead of two wheels it had four. And in a design sense it resembled a model T Ford c. 1920, though with one major difference. Ford himself preferred colour (or should I say color) black, but our model was bright red with a splash of yellow. And while you've all heard of "a bicycle made for two", the vehicle shown below seated three.
Like the early model Ts - or just about early motor car - the appointments were rather crude: a very simple brake, little suspension and no gears. The last-named made cycling up even gentle hills rather difficult. However, it did come with two steering wheels, but Bec's worked while mine didn't and I automatically tried to steer the contraption to great frustration. We even let Max steer for part of the journey, but that was dangerous because the little fellow had crazy ideas about what constitutes a straight line. It also had two sets of working bike chains and pedals, which was just as well when it came to going up hill.
As you can imagine, our model T version was nothing like a racing bike but we attempted the world speed record for such a machine and, after pedaling furiously along a flat stretch, we managed about 10 kph! No-one was around though to verify our claim, so we won't make the Guinness Book of Records. By the way, Emily, our route took us to spot you'll probably remember - the Carillon. It's still there but we discovered the designers omitted to include sufficient turning space for a model T bike. Going the other way, we almost reached the National Museum.
AS
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