Trying to Ride Two Bikes at Once like the Dutch

The Dutch are very skilled cyclists. They are able to do things on a bike that most of us can only dream of. For example, the Dutch are able to ride two bikes at once. They make it look so easy. They effortlessly ride one bike while casually pulling the other alongside them. Such a display of cycling skill is quintessentially Dutch.

I am not Dutch. That is probably why my recent attempt to ride two bikes at once went the way it did.

My wife’s bike had been left at the bus station the night before. Since I had the day off (and she was at work) I decided I’d pick it up for her. Rather than walk all the way there I chose to cycle with my own bike and then walk back with both of them.

As I walked along with the two bikes on either side of me, a hand on the center of each handle bar, I knew I had a golden opportunity. I could try out cycling with two bikes like the Dutch. In truth it was part of my plan but I’d not really admitted it to myself in case I chickened out. I almost did. However, if I didn’t at least try I would never be able to claim that I was trying to become integrated and really believe it myself. I waited until I reached a quiet street and checked that no one was around. Nervously I got onto one of the bikes while keeping a firm grip of the other.

The moment my foot left the security of the ground and tried to find the
pedal I felt my balance start to tip. I quickly tried to get up onto the seat in the hope that I would find my balance there. I did not. Everything started to wobble violently and tip farther. I was forced to let go of the extra bike or risk being taken with it. It crashed violently to the ground one way as I started to fall the other. Luckily I was able to catch myself. I looked rather awkward with my bike at an odd angle between my legs but I had not fallen. More importantly, the street was still empty and no one had seen it happen.

I tried again and got the same result. After waiting for a car to pass and go around the corner (I was more concerned about the driver seeing me making an idiot of myself than any potential impact) I tried a third time. Again, I completely lost my balance the moment I tried to get up onto the seat. After the fourth time I was ready to give up. Maybe I would never truly be Dutch.

No, I had to try again. The main problem seemed to be that I could not get from standing to sitting without throwing off my balance. This time I made sure I was already sitting. I could only just reach the ground with tippy-toes. I held the handlebars of the extra bike in my left hand, my own in my right and set off. At first it felt like I was going to tip over again but I started to move forward. It was slow and it was shaky but there was definite forward momentum. I was doing it. I was transporting two bikes at once. I was achieving another integration milestone. I was becoming more Dutch. I was…

The two bikes decided to go in opposite directions. Rather than agreeing to go in the straight line I desired the extra bike started to go left and my bike started to go right. It was slow at first but the space between us was definitely increasing.

“No, no, no. Stay together,” I pleaded with the two bikes. They did not listen.

I tried to bring them back together with minor adjustments of the steering. It only made them wobble more as they went their separate ways. I leaned out farther and farther between the two bikes. I think the only reason I didn’t fall over instantly was because we were technically a four wheel vehicle. My weight was evenly distributed over the two bikes (no matter how awkwardly). However, that would only work for a short while. If the two bikes got any farther apart gravity would have something to say about the whole thing. I had to get things back under control before that happened, especially since there was a t-junction in the road coming up. I tried shifting my weight away from the impending fall while at the same time gently turning the two bikes towards each other. It worked. It worked a little too well.

The gap started to close. The bikes got closer. It was just in time too. We’d arrived at the junction. I slowed my speed as best I could and gently turned the two sets of handlebars to the right. The bikes continued to get closer. I’d turned the extra bike a little too far and as we went around the corner the handlebars started to overlap. The pedals started to hit each other. I was forced to stop pedaling and let momentum take us around the corner. I tried to separate the two bikes like a parent trying to separate two fighting children (while sitting on the shoulders of one of them). Luck was on my side. As the corner came to an end the two bikes started to naturally separate and go back to moving in (more or less) a straight line.

I could see my house. The end was in sight. I carefully continued to cycle forward, trying to keep my balance and the bikes at the optimal distance from each other. It felt like I was starting to get it.

Then disaster struck. The muscles in my left arm cramped up and I couldn’t keep the extra bike under control any longer. The two bikes suddenly started to get too close again. This time the handlebars got jammed together. One was trapped under the other and could not be separated anymore. I was no longer in control. I was not steering the bikes any more. They were steering me. I tried to ride it out. There was only a few meters left until I reached my driveway. However, it was becoming clear that that was not the two bikes intended destination. They had joined forces and were making their own decisions.

I tried to turn them back but the locked handlebars made any steering impossible. I tried shifting my weight which sort of worked. We were not heading towards my driveway but we were not getting any farther away from it either. The bikes objected to my attempts to reinstate authority. I could feel them starting to tip again. I was almost there. The driveway was less than twenty meters away. I let inertia carry us forward. The whole thing started to wobble. Fifteen meters, fourteen meters. The whole world started to tip sideways as the bikes started taking me with them towards the ground. Ten meters, nine meters. We were getting slower and slower. Gravity was starting to take over. Not even the bikes had any say in what happened now. It was time to abort. Five meters, four meters. I squeezed the brakes to kill the last of the momentum and quickly leaned to the right, planting my foot on the ground. I let go of the bikes as I hopped away from them on the one foot, the other raised high into the air. The two bikes crashed to the ground in the opposite direction.

Crash!

I took a moment, awkwardly standing over the two bikes on one foot, to check that I was okay. I was. I’d not injured anything. Despite the multiple falls both bikes were intact too (aside from a few extra scratches). More importantly, I’d just cycled with two bikes. Sure, it had not been smooth but I’d still managed to do one of the most Dutch things possible. I fist pumped the air in victory and cheered. Then I noticed my neighbor watching me as he watered his front lawn.

Either way, I think I am ready for my Dutch passport now.