We took our borrowed tandem out for a ride a few days ago. I tried riding a tandem years ago and didn’t much like it, but many things have changed since then. I climbed on board behind my trusted captain, placed my feet on the pedals, and off we went.
We rode on Nojoqui Road, gently climbing and rolling along, past hills and fields and rustic dwellings, in the dappled sun and shade of oaks adorned with Spanish moss, feeling that sweet rush of air, as one does from a bicycle.
Sometimes I felt too passive and dependent on Monte, but in time I got used to simply following his lead, accepting his pace, trusting that we weren’t going to fall over. I pushed harder with him to ascend a grade, and felt that familiar effort in my legs. With the two of us working together, we were an effective machine. It was satisfying. Pleasant, even.
And it occurred to me that there was something metaphorical about this. Monte has been my captain for nearly six months now, seeing ahead when I couldn’t, pedaling hard when I was too weary to keep going, navigating and making repairs and helping me learn to trust. We’re a tandem team, I guess.