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A bicycle made for two

A big plan to cross America on a small tandem

by Dominic Gill

12.07.2010

For months Dominic Gill had planned to cross America on a tandem bicycle with a 74-year-old man suffering from cancer. But he recently realised Ernie Greenwald wouldn't be able to make it. That hasn't stopped Gill. He till plans to make the gruelling cycle ride, opening up Ernie's spot on the bike to others to raise money for charity. And Greenwald will be cheering him on from the sidelines

For months I have been blindly relying on a 74-year-old-man with cancer and an erratic heart to complete a trans-America tandem bicycle journey with me. It had been a dream of his for the last 40 years to cycle across his own country, and after meeting him three years ago on my first tandem bicycle journey 20,000 miles down the length of the Americas (Take A Seat), I decided I wanted to help him realise it. But it has only now, after a significant and perhaps predictable upset, dawned on me that I was being naive.

I visited Ernie Greenwald in hospital recently, less than two weeks before our planned departure date, and it was clear that this frail man was in no condition to make the trip. But all is not lost, not by a long shot. Ernie’s inspiration to make a stab at this journey against weighty odds has added so much momentum to the project that it will continue with others in the front seat of my high-tech tandem bicycle. These companions all have one thing in common; cancer or another disability that would see most of us giving up on the idea of adventure.

Ernie Greenwald

I met Ernie in Lompoc, California, four months after I’d pedalled away from the barren north coast of Alaska with little faith in the workability of my project to film random strangers as they accompanied me on the empty back seat of my tandem. In retrospect I had no idea how long it would take, and way too little experience to predict how my 14-foot ‘bicycle train’ would handle on the rough gravel roads of Alaska, let alone further south in the towering peaks of the Andes. But as I pedalled, the project took shape and I often found myself brandishing a video camera in the face of hapless strangers that decided a ride south on the empty back seat of my tandem might be fun. From the parking lot where I met Ernie it would take me another 22 months to dawdle from seashore to snowy mountains and back, zig-zagging my way down to the bottom of the Americas, making friends and embracing the suffering inextricably linked to cycling a 200-pound bicycle and trailer through every type of weather and landscape conceivable.

Despite the discomfort of arriving in Patagonia in the dead of winter, it worked – better than I could ever have imagined. Although I cycled the gargantuan bicycle more than 9,000 miles solo on and off, I was accompanied by more than 270 companions for at least the same distance again. Some joined me for an hour, some for a day or two, and one, an airline pilot with the flexibility to fly a commercial airline in and out of most countries, pedalled with me for six weeks along the humid roads of Central America, through jungles; a journey characterised by the smell of rotting mangoes lying where they fell from the trees in the hot sun.

By splitting the new journey from Los Angeles to New York into between eight and 10 legs, we have opened up the possibility of riders of any ability to join us in Ernie’s place, each for a manageable distance that will take between two and 20 days cycling. It has, in a sense, morphed into a ‘Take A Seat Mark II’ and if it uncovers even a fraction of the stories that I heard from people during my first journey, it will provide rich and inspiration pickings for a documentary.

A bicycle made for two

So far I have heard from people with Downs Syndrome, amputees, someone trying to fight the debilitating affects of muscular dystrophy, and one blind lady. They’d all be very welcome on the bike, and, due to the Pino’s unique semi-recumbent design and special independent coasting mechanism between the two riders, I know they would all be capable of enduring it for at least a leg of the journey.

Even on my last, more standard, tandem I had at least a handful of companions that certainly didn’t fit squarely into the ‘fit-for-cycle-touring’ bracket. Steve, the gold prospector, skinny and wearing a pair of loose-fitting overalls, bobbed up and down on the back trying to light a cigarette, the bruising on his scrawny behind eventually getting the better of him. An 84-year-old Guatemalan man couldn’t resist a ride as I made my way from Antigua to the El Salvadorian border. Every so often I’d turn around to catch a glimpse of his face as he struggled to keep his right foot - semi-paralysed - on the pedal. I thought I could see a twinkle in his eyes; it was the first time he’d got on a bike for many many years and I think he enjoyed it! Countless children who were years away from being able to reach the pedals jumped on, sometimes without waiting for me to stop, and wedged their little feet into the empty bottle cage on the tube, mid-way between the seat and the cranks.

I loved hearing the stories of my ‘stokers’ as I travelled through landscapes I barely even knew existed. Through those people, my grasp on the world was expanded as I understood a little more about how life is outside of my little corner of it. What got to me during those two years in the saddle was long periods of loneliness, after leaving a companion at a bus stop, or leaving a family that had taken me in for a few days. I’m relieved that the powerful pit of self pity and depression caused by days on my own won’t have room to propagate on this next journey. Not only will there be two or three friends accompanying me the entire distance, but there will also be a colorful mix of companions on my bicycle with yet more incredible stories to tell, I am sure of that. As to exactly what weird and wonderful stories leak out during long heat-addled days in the desert or damp, forested days in upstate New York, we will just have to wait and see.

If you would like to find out more about Dominic’s first journey (documentary and book now available) or how you can participate in the current project, visit www.dominicgill.me

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