a.twiddler
Veteran
6/2/23
Taking the shopping for a tiny ride.
A cold but sunny afternoon, with little wind. I decided to give the trike a try out as I’d replaced the original front 52/42 front chainrings with a 50/34 set up which the chain tensioner can manage without problems. I’d also flipped the hub gear sprocket over, as being dished, it gave better alignment with the tensioner that way round, and according to Sheldon Brown there would be no issues with doing that. All jobs which I had been putting off for some time but got motivated into doing following my recent tiny rides.
With the usual everyday trousers, shoes and grey bodywarmer I wore my old orange Aldi windproof bike jacket and grey cap. I wore gloves, which aren’t ideal with a gripshift gear changer as they’re not as grippy as track mitts, but they were manageable for a tiny ride. It was sunny enough for prescription shades which I haven’t worn for a while. As well as somehow transforming me into a cool dude (well, maybe in my dreams) they have the effect of bringing out the contrast in things, particularly clouds and skyscapes which you see a lot of on a recumbent.
Using the higher gear range for the first part of the trip to the town centre I got on to Swanlow Lane then approached the green uphill traffic light with enthusiasm. Yes! I’m going to get through, keep on pushing those pedals. At the last minute they turned red and I suffered the embarassment of premature congratulation. I actually had to brake to stop at the advanced stop line. Feeling deflated I impatiently waited for the lights to change then all too slowly worked my way back up through the gears like a HGV driver with 40 tons on board. Although there was a line of traffic behind me they all waited patiently and gave me masses of room when they did go past.
The gradual uphill on this road seemed to go past with geological slowness then as soon as I got over the tiny crest the trike rolled freely and I was able to get into top. All too soon my gratifyingly easy rolling came to an end at the A54 roundabout where traffic was backed up, meaning you had to dive into any gaps as they arose. Eventually I got round and the gratification factor increased as I had to cram my cap on to stop it blowing off. Speed increased down the long dual carriageway hill to the town centre. Annoyingly, I had to reduce speed before filtering across behind traffic so my highest wasn’t what I’d hoped to achieve. Still, as I turned right at the wide junction I could feel the outward lean as the tyres and suspension compressed due to cenripetal force, and carried on rolling to a dropped pavement and then between bollards to the town centre precinct. I aimed for a narrow entrance where only one half of a double door was open but I guesstimated my bars would go through, followed by the rear end. I rolled on inside the precinct, expecting the speaker system to boom out,”no cycling!” but perhaps on CCTV it might have looked like a mobility aid. I stopped and chained it to a pillar outside the shop where I wanted to go.
A couple were having a cup of tea at a table nearby and the man seemed to be very interested in the trike. He came over and looked at it. “Oh!” he said. “It’s not electric then.” I said, “No, that’s a hub gear”. “I’ve got an electric bike” he said. “that looks a bit cumbersome to me.” “well, I look upon this as an experiment”, I said. “I generally use two wheels too”. He went back to his partner, and I went into the shop. My visit didn’t result in me buying anything so I came out empty handed.
I unchained the trike and rode about ¼ mile to my next destination. Here I filled the box up a bit, maybe too much, as I could see the rear suspension sagging. That was my lot, so I set off to the town centre lights heading for Grange lane.
I am still wired for 2 wheeled recumbents, so I found myself heading for a red light very slowly, the rationale on a 2 wheeler being that you keep your feet up as long as possible so you can carry on if the lights change. With a trike you can roll up to the lights, stop with your feet up, then set off without having to re-launch as with a 2 wheeler.
The lights changed, up through the gears, over an assortment of speed humps and potholes then it smoothed out. As I carried on down Grange Lane in the sunshine my original planned route back through the sports complex became elasticated. I decided to stretch out the ride to Whitegate Station on the Whitegate Way. Still in high gear I continued down the route to where it branched off right through a small housing estate and on into the countryside. Soon the road surface deteriorated and I slowed down. It was downhill so I enjoyed a lazy freewheel. The road steepened so I increased speed as this was the start of a dip. I rattled over the gravel and potholes and got up the other side on the large chainring which was pleasing.
There is a steep gravelly climb up to the old railway line which I had hoped to get up without doing the greasy finger change to the small chainring. It started well but as the slope steepened I stalled and came to a halt. Since I didn’t have enough hands to operate the brakes and fiddle with the chain and chainrings simultaneously and the hand brake wouldn’t hold on the steep slope, I beat a strategic retreat downhill in reverse. Here I did the change and got going again. I felt as if I was putting a lot of energy through the long suffering hub gear and complicated transmission. The load of shopping wasn’t helping here either. It probably weighed more than any camping gear that I might cram in the box. As I gingerly ground my way up, a couple of walkers came the other way and offered a push as “that’s an awfully steep slope”. I replied through gritted teeth (and clenched buttocks) that I’d be fine (if nothing broke). I got to the top and stopped to get the chain back on the big ring. Since I was stopped, I had a go at the front brake cable. Normally with a drum on such a small wheel one or two fingers give pretty good braking and the cable doesn’t get much strain. While going backwards down the gravelly slope the lever got a good squeeze and I felt something give. So I re adjusted the detachable nipple and seriously tightened its pinch bolt. Just putting my stuff away when a cyclist stopped and asked if I was OK. I said yes and he went on his way. Just as I was getting going another one with all the gear said, “hey, nice bit of kit, mate!” as he whizzed past in the opposite direction.
A gradual uphill now, with the sun casting shadows from the left. Even though I could see my breath, I was warm enough. The chain tubes whirred faintly, the box on the back rumbled at the bottom range of hearing. The tyres scrunched faintly on the fine grit of the trail surface and my jacket collar rustled occasionally on the headest. With the faint wind in the trees, the birdsong and the tree lined vista of the rail trail diminishing with pin point sharpness into the distance, what could be better than this? Three wheeled therapy. More mindfulness, on 3 wheels. Would more wheels be even better? Or less. A unicycle, maybe.
I rolled steadily onward, meeting dogs, walkers and dogwalkers seemingly walking in a canine cloud. A man with a young bassett hound came along. The dog had been bounding about playfully until it saw me when it stopped dead and looked puzzled. “Don’t mind him”, the man said as they walked past. “He’s never seen one of those before”.
I came up behind a couple, a short broad woman with a tall thin man, walking in the middle of the path. She was complaining bitterly about something while the man said nothing. I eased off and followed them at a distance. I didn’t want the negative vibes to spoil my tiny ride. She carried on in this manner, while the tall thin man’s replies were inaudible. Maybe his replies were confined to mmm. Uhuh. Yes dear. That’s terrible. Well I never. Really? Well well. Fancy that. Maybe he tuned everything out. They were totally oblivious to what was going on around them.
In the end I got fed up with doing 2.75mph and rang my bell loudly. They moved to one side. I doubled my speed and seemed to be flying along. Soon I crossed Dalefords Lane on a tall railway bridge and before I knew it I arrived at the car park at the old Whitegate Station. I rolled nonchalantly through the narrow pedestrian entrance and headed to the conveniences. These days, I never pass a toilet without making the most of it. As I came out, the short broad woman appeared on her own, heading for the ladies. She looked annoyed, and muttered something as she went in. I wondered what had happened to the tall thin man. Had he finally cracked and fled screaming into the countryside? Had she done him in and concealed the body while I was blissfully taking a leak? Was he sitting in their car eating a sandwich? Maybe I was next on the menu. I didn’t hang around. I rode back to the trail, stopped to take a couple of photos by the old station, then got under way back the way I came. The track is level or downhill all the way to my turn off.
Excuse the fuzzy pics. These are from my phone.
I clunked into top, and lazily pedalled off the trail, into the car park, then back on the trail, both times through narrow pedestrian access points. The ride back was quite different from the ride here, easily pedalling along at a decent speed, freewheeling the last mile. I think my shopping was affecting my ride in a positive way, responding to the relentless pull of gravity. Nothing came past, though many walkers and cyclists came in the opposite direction. I dinged my bell, walkers stepped aside. I thanked people as I went past. One couple said, “it’s a pleasure.” Perhaps I’d made their day, going past on this contraption. Most of the cyclists were male, in ones or twos. As I came near my turn off point a young woman came the other way on a mountain bike. “Wow! Just...Wow!” she said.
I went down the access ramp and turned right on to the road. I was still on the big chainring but thought I could manage the climb up Grange Lane from the dip without going on to the small ring. After taking a good run down into the dip I got up the other side, and gradually worked up through the gears.
As I came to the houses further along I spotted a rider in an orange jacket in the mirror, and he very slowly caught me up. He stayed behind me for several minutes. I did’t delude myself that he was a wheelsucker. Perhaps he was just curious. As he eventually went past he and his mountain bike seemed incredibly tall, even allowing for the fact that from down on the seat, everything looks tall. He wasn’t going much faster than me, which made me think that my perception of slowness might be just an illusion. It made me feel better, anyway.
I cut across the car park of the sports complex and made my way to the path that leads to the exit barrier and steep lane on the other side. I stopped and derailed the chain on to the small front ring. Downhill once more the trike flew but once I got onto the uphill to the barrier I could feel my groceries holding me back. From previous experience I knew that the wheels would go through the barrier easily but the bars were just too wide. I picked up the front end, turned the bars sharp left and waddled through, the wheels following. My original plan had been to pedal up the steep lane as I had done it easily before with the trike unloaded with the original gearing, but as I was already standing up I just pushed it to where the lane levelled out. There was nobody about to see me do the walk of shame although fifty million CC readers will know about it now.
Once I got on again I just couldn’t get any speed up. I trundled slowly to where the lane came out on an estate road, then crawled up the slope towards the main road. As it all levelled out things improved, so I hopped on to the pavement and moved the chain on to the big ring. There was a lot of traffic about so there was quite a wait before I could get going.
There was a gradual rise followed by a gradual downhill and I was able to keep my speed up until I reached the A54 roundabout. There was plenty of traffic so I waited for a big enough gap. I got round much more slowly than I would have liked. After turning off, my speed remained low and a queue of traffic formed behind me. I hopped on to the pavement to let them go by then carried on, feeling a bit less pressure. The road then sloped downhill to a set of traffic lights which were red by the time I got there. The slope helped me get speed up when the lights changed and I built up some momentum to get up the climb after I turned off for home. Once I got home I unloaded the shopping and put the trike away.
Conclusions:
Lowering the gearing certainly helped. I’m surprised how useful the big chainring is with only 2 teeth less than before, without losing too much top end. The smaller chainring gives noticeably lower gears. It’s still pretty slow uphill.
As far as public reaction to the trike goes, it’s certainly not for someone who likes anonymity. The recumbent two wheeler gets a certain amount of jaw dropping response but this bright red trike is something else again. Perhaps there should be a warning sticker on recumbent trikes. Warning: this machine may spread a little happiness as you ride by. When you ride an upright bike there are complaints that other road users don’t see you. It looks like the other extreme on a trike. Everyone sees you. I’ve sometimes wished for a button on the handlebars marked “invisibility mode” on my 2 wheeler. It could be useful on the trike too.
Distance. 9.25 miles. Max speed 23.1 mph. Ave speed 6.0. according to Garmin.
66 ft per mile approx
Taking the shopping for a tiny ride.
A cold but sunny afternoon, with little wind. I decided to give the trike a try out as I’d replaced the original front 52/42 front chainrings with a 50/34 set up which the chain tensioner can manage without problems. I’d also flipped the hub gear sprocket over, as being dished, it gave better alignment with the tensioner that way round, and according to Sheldon Brown there would be no issues with doing that. All jobs which I had been putting off for some time but got motivated into doing following my recent tiny rides.
With the usual everyday trousers, shoes and grey bodywarmer I wore my old orange Aldi windproof bike jacket and grey cap. I wore gloves, which aren’t ideal with a gripshift gear changer as they’re not as grippy as track mitts, but they were manageable for a tiny ride. It was sunny enough for prescription shades which I haven’t worn for a while. As well as somehow transforming me into a cool dude (well, maybe in my dreams) they have the effect of bringing out the contrast in things, particularly clouds and skyscapes which you see a lot of on a recumbent.
Using the higher gear range for the first part of the trip to the town centre I got on to Swanlow Lane then approached the green uphill traffic light with enthusiasm. Yes! I’m going to get through, keep on pushing those pedals. At the last minute they turned red and I suffered the embarassment of premature congratulation. I actually had to brake to stop at the advanced stop line. Feeling deflated I impatiently waited for the lights to change then all too slowly worked my way back up through the gears like a HGV driver with 40 tons on board. Although there was a line of traffic behind me they all waited patiently and gave me masses of room when they did go past.
The gradual uphill on this road seemed to go past with geological slowness then as soon as I got over the tiny crest the trike rolled freely and I was able to get into top. All too soon my gratifyingly easy rolling came to an end at the A54 roundabout where traffic was backed up, meaning you had to dive into any gaps as they arose. Eventually I got round and the gratification factor increased as I had to cram my cap on to stop it blowing off. Speed increased down the long dual carriageway hill to the town centre. Annoyingly, I had to reduce speed before filtering across behind traffic so my highest wasn’t what I’d hoped to achieve. Still, as I turned right at the wide junction I could feel the outward lean as the tyres and suspension compressed due to cenripetal force, and carried on rolling to a dropped pavement and then between bollards to the town centre precinct. I aimed for a narrow entrance where only one half of a double door was open but I guesstimated my bars would go through, followed by the rear end. I rolled on inside the precinct, expecting the speaker system to boom out,”no cycling!” but perhaps on CCTV it might have looked like a mobility aid. I stopped and chained it to a pillar outside the shop where I wanted to go.
A couple were having a cup of tea at a table nearby and the man seemed to be very interested in the trike. He came over and looked at it. “Oh!” he said. “It’s not electric then.” I said, “No, that’s a hub gear”. “I’ve got an electric bike” he said. “that looks a bit cumbersome to me.” “well, I look upon this as an experiment”, I said. “I generally use two wheels too”. He went back to his partner, and I went into the shop. My visit didn’t result in me buying anything so I came out empty handed.
I unchained the trike and rode about ¼ mile to my next destination. Here I filled the box up a bit, maybe too much, as I could see the rear suspension sagging. That was my lot, so I set off to the town centre lights heading for Grange lane.
I am still wired for 2 wheeled recumbents, so I found myself heading for a red light very slowly, the rationale on a 2 wheeler being that you keep your feet up as long as possible so you can carry on if the lights change. With a trike you can roll up to the lights, stop with your feet up, then set off without having to re-launch as with a 2 wheeler.
The lights changed, up through the gears, over an assortment of speed humps and potholes then it smoothed out. As I carried on down Grange Lane in the sunshine my original planned route back through the sports complex became elasticated. I decided to stretch out the ride to Whitegate Station on the Whitegate Way. Still in high gear I continued down the route to where it branched off right through a small housing estate and on into the countryside. Soon the road surface deteriorated and I slowed down. It was downhill so I enjoyed a lazy freewheel. The road steepened so I increased speed as this was the start of a dip. I rattled over the gravel and potholes and got up the other side on the large chainring which was pleasing.
There is a steep gravelly climb up to the old railway line which I had hoped to get up without doing the greasy finger change to the small chainring. It started well but as the slope steepened I stalled and came to a halt. Since I didn’t have enough hands to operate the brakes and fiddle with the chain and chainrings simultaneously and the hand brake wouldn’t hold on the steep slope, I beat a strategic retreat downhill in reverse. Here I did the change and got going again. I felt as if I was putting a lot of energy through the long suffering hub gear and complicated transmission. The load of shopping wasn’t helping here either. It probably weighed more than any camping gear that I might cram in the box. As I gingerly ground my way up, a couple of walkers came the other way and offered a push as “that’s an awfully steep slope”. I replied through gritted teeth (and clenched buttocks) that I’d be fine (if nothing broke). I got to the top and stopped to get the chain back on the big ring. Since I was stopped, I had a go at the front brake cable. Normally with a drum on such a small wheel one or two fingers give pretty good braking and the cable doesn’t get much strain. While going backwards down the gravelly slope the lever got a good squeeze and I felt something give. So I re adjusted the detachable nipple and seriously tightened its pinch bolt. Just putting my stuff away when a cyclist stopped and asked if I was OK. I said yes and he went on his way. Just as I was getting going another one with all the gear said, “hey, nice bit of kit, mate!” as he whizzed past in the opposite direction.
A gradual uphill now, with the sun casting shadows from the left. Even though I could see my breath, I was warm enough. The chain tubes whirred faintly, the box on the back rumbled at the bottom range of hearing. The tyres scrunched faintly on the fine grit of the trail surface and my jacket collar rustled occasionally on the headest. With the faint wind in the trees, the birdsong and the tree lined vista of the rail trail diminishing with pin point sharpness into the distance, what could be better than this? Three wheeled therapy. More mindfulness, on 3 wheels. Would more wheels be even better? Or less. A unicycle, maybe.
I rolled steadily onward, meeting dogs, walkers and dogwalkers seemingly walking in a canine cloud. A man with a young bassett hound came along. The dog had been bounding about playfully until it saw me when it stopped dead and looked puzzled. “Don’t mind him”, the man said as they walked past. “He’s never seen one of those before”.
I came up behind a couple, a short broad woman with a tall thin man, walking in the middle of the path. She was complaining bitterly about something while the man said nothing. I eased off and followed them at a distance. I didn’t want the negative vibes to spoil my tiny ride. She carried on in this manner, while the tall thin man’s replies were inaudible. Maybe his replies were confined to mmm. Uhuh. Yes dear. That’s terrible. Well I never. Really? Well well. Fancy that. Maybe he tuned everything out. They were totally oblivious to what was going on around them.
In the end I got fed up with doing 2.75mph and rang my bell loudly. They moved to one side. I doubled my speed and seemed to be flying along. Soon I crossed Dalefords Lane on a tall railway bridge and before I knew it I arrived at the car park at the old Whitegate Station. I rolled nonchalantly through the narrow pedestrian entrance and headed to the conveniences. These days, I never pass a toilet without making the most of it. As I came out, the short broad woman appeared on her own, heading for the ladies. She looked annoyed, and muttered something as she went in. I wondered what had happened to the tall thin man. Had he finally cracked and fled screaming into the countryside? Had she done him in and concealed the body while I was blissfully taking a leak? Was he sitting in their car eating a sandwich? Maybe I was next on the menu. I didn’t hang around. I rode back to the trail, stopped to take a couple of photos by the old station, then got under way back the way I came. The track is level or downhill all the way to my turn off.
Excuse the fuzzy pics. These are from my phone.
I clunked into top, and lazily pedalled off the trail, into the car park, then back on the trail, both times through narrow pedestrian access points. The ride back was quite different from the ride here, easily pedalling along at a decent speed, freewheeling the last mile. I think my shopping was affecting my ride in a positive way, responding to the relentless pull of gravity. Nothing came past, though many walkers and cyclists came in the opposite direction. I dinged my bell, walkers stepped aside. I thanked people as I went past. One couple said, “it’s a pleasure.” Perhaps I’d made their day, going past on this contraption. Most of the cyclists were male, in ones or twos. As I came near my turn off point a young woman came the other way on a mountain bike. “Wow! Just...Wow!” she said.
I went down the access ramp and turned right on to the road. I was still on the big chainring but thought I could manage the climb up Grange Lane from the dip without going on to the small ring. After taking a good run down into the dip I got up the other side, and gradually worked up through the gears.
As I came to the houses further along I spotted a rider in an orange jacket in the mirror, and he very slowly caught me up. He stayed behind me for several minutes. I did’t delude myself that he was a wheelsucker. Perhaps he was just curious. As he eventually went past he and his mountain bike seemed incredibly tall, even allowing for the fact that from down on the seat, everything looks tall. He wasn’t going much faster than me, which made me think that my perception of slowness might be just an illusion. It made me feel better, anyway.
I cut across the car park of the sports complex and made my way to the path that leads to the exit barrier and steep lane on the other side. I stopped and derailed the chain on to the small front ring. Downhill once more the trike flew but once I got onto the uphill to the barrier I could feel my groceries holding me back. From previous experience I knew that the wheels would go through the barrier easily but the bars were just too wide. I picked up the front end, turned the bars sharp left and waddled through, the wheels following. My original plan had been to pedal up the steep lane as I had done it easily before with the trike unloaded with the original gearing, but as I was already standing up I just pushed it to where the lane levelled out. There was nobody about to see me do the walk of shame although fifty million CC readers will know about it now.
Once I got on again I just couldn’t get any speed up. I trundled slowly to where the lane came out on an estate road, then crawled up the slope towards the main road. As it all levelled out things improved, so I hopped on to the pavement and moved the chain on to the big ring. There was a lot of traffic about so there was quite a wait before I could get going.
There was a gradual rise followed by a gradual downhill and I was able to keep my speed up until I reached the A54 roundabout. There was plenty of traffic so I waited for a big enough gap. I got round much more slowly than I would have liked. After turning off, my speed remained low and a queue of traffic formed behind me. I hopped on to the pavement to let them go by then carried on, feeling a bit less pressure. The road then sloped downhill to a set of traffic lights which were red by the time I got there. The slope helped me get speed up when the lights changed and I built up some momentum to get up the climb after I turned off for home. Once I got home I unloaded the shopping and put the trike away.
Conclusions:
Lowering the gearing certainly helped. I’m surprised how useful the big chainring is with only 2 teeth less than before, without losing too much top end. The smaller chainring gives noticeably lower gears. It’s still pretty slow uphill.
As far as public reaction to the trike goes, it’s certainly not for someone who likes anonymity. The recumbent two wheeler gets a certain amount of jaw dropping response but this bright red trike is something else again. Perhaps there should be a warning sticker on recumbent trikes. Warning: this machine may spread a little happiness as you ride by. When you ride an upright bike there are complaints that other road users don’t see you. It looks like the other extreme on a trike. Everyone sees you. I’ve sometimes wished for a button on the handlebars marked “invisibility mode” on my 2 wheeler. It could be useful on the trike too.
Distance. 9.25 miles. Max speed 23.1 mph. Ave speed 6.0. according to Garmin.
Total Ascent: | 281 | ft | |
| Total Descent: | 281 | ft | |
| Start Elevation: | 189 | ft | |
| End Elevation: | 190 | ft | |
| Min Elevation: | 119 | ft | |
| Max Elevation: | 233 | ft |
Last edited:
I agree 
I rode across a park, paused to let another cyclist past at the barrier, then down my favourite lane, up the road that feels like much more of a hill than it really is, then a shortcut through the new estate that has the smoothest tarmac in Christendom but is short of just one dropped kerb that it would make it the perfect shortcut between estates.
