Chance Encounters
Bob Flaherty
When Two Become One
MONTAGUE
August morning, Turners Falls Canal
A cyclist on a bike trail must get used to the increasing number of motorized two-wheelers that rumble by so fast the water in your bottle sloshes.
Here comes one now. You can hear it behind you, and you brace yourself and feel its power as it hyperbolically whooshes past you like a city bus.
But there was no motor here. Only the one provided by two hard-pedaling humans in gorgeous sync. Luckily for the columnist, the pair stopped up ahead.
Yes, people have been riding these tandems for years, even inspiring songwriters as far back as 1892:
“You’ll look sweet, upon the seat, of a bicycle built for two.”
But since they whizz by so fast, in either direction, how often do you get a chance to talk to the riders and pepper them with questions?
“We got it in ’98, about the same time we got married,” said Brian Nutwell of North Hadley.
Said his wife Emily, taking pictures: “We’re documenting every ride this summer. You go longer, you see more.” They average about 35 miles a trip, some much longer, and plan to mount the photos on their walls at home. “We just bought a new house; we’re working on the décor,” laughed Emily.
Moving here last year from their native Ohio after Emily landed a job in the computer science department at UMass, they were delighted with the biking situation. “You’ve got rail trails and a lot of countryside,” said Brian, “but the hills. Ohio is flat; nothing to stop you but wind.”
Hills are the arch-villains of tandem world. The same thing that powers the craft on downhills and straightaways—the added weight and muscle—comes back to haunt on hills and their hillish towns. “You can’t get out of the saddle,” Brian explained.
“You have to stay in your seat and grind,” said Emily. “The rest of the time (the bike) sings.”
Favorite ride so far? “Lake Wyola,” said Brian, “the best and the worst.”
“It’s just up, up, up and up,” said Emily. “You proceed to regret every decision you’ve made.”
“But then you come down and it’s exhilarating,” said Brian. “We hit 38 miles an hour.” Both smiled proudly.
“We’ll go tandem as man and wife, pedaling down the road of life…”
Aside from attempting to master the tricky synchronization required of a bicycle built for two, let alone the constant communication, riders must also get over what some tandem kayakers refer to as ‘the divorce-maker,’ wherein one paddler seeks to sniff daisies on the opposite bank while the other wants to get home in time for kickoff.
“Never been an issue,” said Emily, “but it helps to have a game plan—here’s how far we’re going today—but sometimes we stray. Anytime we find a sign for the Franklin County Bikeway, it’s, like, whew!”
“It can be a test of your relationship,” said Brian. “You find out in the first few weeks if it’s gonna work.”
Their bike, a Co-Motion Speedster, is in remarkably good shape for one as old as their 27-year marriage.
“I keep it functional,” said Brian, the bike mechanic of the operation. “I was a mountain biker as a kid. Things break regularly on a mountain bike, so you become handy in a hurry.”
Historically, the two riders come with titles: The one in front is the captain (Brian) while the one holding down the aft (Emily) is known as the stoker. “I’ve modified that to ‘rear admiral,’” said Emily, who also serves as navigator, using her phone to find alternate routes, cool destinations or places to grab a bite.
“We had waffles for breakfast so we’re all fueled up,” laughed Brian, patting his belly.
The titles, by the way, have nothing to do with gender, more to do with the frame design of these bikes. “The taller person has to be in front,” Emily explained.
But when both riders are in full sync for long stretches and just sailing along, are you tapping into a sort of tandem-high? “Yeah, the best part is not paying attention to the work, and going, ‘Oh, look at that!’” said Brian.
Their all-time favorite? “Charlottesville, Virginia, ending up on a horse farm. There’s always a payoff,” he said.
Back in Ohio they once rode a century (100-miler) on the tandem. “We just kept a nice pace and took turns helping each other out,” said Brian.
Best part about cycling in western Mass? “The quiet,” said Emily. “The Valley is so much quieter than other places.”
Even though they’re cruising on one today, “We don’t tend to do too much riding on bike paths,” said Emily. “We’re too fast. You’ve got little kids learning how to ride and people walking together with dogs. Not a great fit.”
They did a pretty fair imitation of an Olympic bobsled a few years back on some unreasonably steep decline that clocked out at 56 mph. “Frightening,” said Emily.
“Not recommended,” said Brian.
Rocketship speed aside, tandems are adaptive—the visually impaired or those with balance or cognitive challenges are able to ride in the stoker position with confidence.
The great author and activist Helen Keller, blind and deaf from infancy, took enormous pleasure from the tandem; in a photo taken over 100 years ago she is shown with an older gent pedaling a side-by-side version known as a sociable.
“Next to a leisurely walk, I enjoy a spin on my tandem bicycle,” she wrote. “…The rapid rush through the air gives me a delicious sense of strength and buoyancy, and the exercise makes my pulse dance and my heart sing.”
Concurs Brian: “It’s a nice way to spend a couple hours together on a sunny day.”
“I’m half crazy, all for the love of you…”
They met as engineers while working for Honda and both still hold patents for various complicated workings that make neither one of them a dime.
One day young Emily popped her head out of her work enclosure and young Brian was smitten. “On our first date she said her biggest mistakes were dating someone from work.”
What made it click this time? “That he put up with me, me and my cats,” smiled Emily.
“And I was allergic to cats, so right there,” said Brian.
“It won’t be a stylish marriage, I can’t afford a carriage…”
Actually, they have two automobiles in the garage, an electric SUV and their “fun” car, an Alfa Romeo, but, more importantly, seven bicycles. “I have a road bike for a serious ride when Brian’s not around,” said Emily, “one’s just to get me to work.”
Brian meanwhile, who works remotely for a startup, gets around town on an old single-speed.
They now have two canines to go with two felines, which may coincide with the ‘doubles’ theme thus established.
The couple recently returned from the old neighborhood upon their son Preston’s wedding to his bride Katelin.
“A beautiful wedding,” said Emily.
“We had family from all over the country and all our Ohio friends we hadn’t seen in a year,” said Brian.
During the part of the reception where mother and son danced in the spotlight to the lilting strains of Eileen Ivers’ electric violin: “He stepped on my feet!” cried Emily. “All the prep for the wedding and I forgot to teach my son how to dance.”
“We’ll spend all our lives together, regardless of the weather …”
Secret of a long marriage? “Finding someone who’ll put up with you,” laughed Emily.
“And enjoying the changes together,” said Brian. “We’ve had career changes and relocations. You gotta be willing to go with it.”
And then they went for it. Helmets buckled, the couple straddled their two-seated steed, the captain said, “Five, two, three, here we go!” and Brian and Emily Nutwell pushed off starboard with precision, a family of swans in the distance to the left and unlimited blacktop ahead.
Bob Flaherty 