The tandem stoker’s role can be the object of curiosity, amusement, and sometimes horror to solo cyclists. After over 20 years on the back I’ve probably heard it all, so here’s my take on how it works and what makes the back end of a tandem a happy place to be.
Why “Stoker”? I’m guessing that the terms “Captain” and “Stoker” hark back to racing tandem teams, where the big bloke is on the back providing full engine power, while the guy on the front manages the breakaway tactics and finesses the control. Maybe not quite the set up for most tandem couples, but the term seems to have stuck and is regularly used for all of us back seat occupants, apparently without irony.
No brake levers? Stoker handlebars are distinctly uncluttered, though you may get the bell (to ping when asked). It’s absolutely safest and smoothest for the captain to have full control of the bike, especially when it comes to long descents and emergency stopping. Traditionally, stoker braking is defined as a sharp dig in the captain’s back or prolonged screaming. Whatever, we rely on the captain’s braking skills to avoid frying the rims or boiling the stoker’s head.
The stoker may not have the levers of power, but they are not without influence. Depending on the bike geometry, stoker “lean” can have quite a big effect on the direction of travel and on how hard it is for the captain to handle the bike. The trick is to stay relaxed and neutral, following the flow of the ride – a stoker skill that may be unappreciated until it all goes wrong. It’s difficult to define the art of doing nothing or the sixth sense you develop over the years, but be assured that if the captain intends to turn right, but the stoker expected it to be left, the effect is thoroughly disconcerting both to the crew and any surrounding traffic.
Gosh, you must trust your partner! Yes.
Why do you go so fast? Or perhaps politely unspoken, “why do you go so slow?”. Tandem yo-yo: that annoying habit of tandems to whizz past the solos downhill, only to hold them up on the climb. There are two aspects to this – the up and the down. Going down, the gravity advantage of tandem weight versus the wind resistance of a solo gives whopping acceleration and an equivalent problem in dissipating the energy when braking. We have drum drag brakes on our touring tandems, which do help keep the speed under control, but ultimately a tandem needs to descend at its maximum safe speed to use as much air cooling and slowing as possible. Conversely, hill climbing is hard, so we also need to keep that momentum to help us up the other side. This is fast and exhilarating in gently rolling country, being one of the great joys of tandem riding, but makes group riding tricky in steep and twisty Cornish lanes.
Would you ever swap places? Definitely a no from us. I certainly don’t have the upper body strength or bike handling skills to captain a tandem, and much prefer the wind shelter and carefree riding. Equally I’m pretty sure Martyn would rather eat his cycling gloves than ride on the back (even if it wasn’t me steering).
How do you keep in step? Physically, the two chainsets are tied together via the sync chain (sometimes called the timing chain). There are wildly different preferences for the phase difference between the front and back – fully in sync, or anything from 180° out of step through to a few degrees ahead or behind. We have the captain a few teeth ahead. This gives him the lead and is the only configuration that allows us to stand together.
It’s more of a mystery how the balance of pedal power can work at all. Nevertheless, we do mostly find we are putting in equivalent effort (each according to his ability, and all that), via some combination of command-response, gentle suggestion and telepathy. Like most tandem crews, we’ve found it essential to use standard commands for starting, standing and changing down to granny gear for a steep hill. Apologies to those in earshot.
Isn’t it anti-feminist? Never quite sure where this idea comes from, but some people do seem to think it all a bit 1950s to have the woman on the back and under command from the man on the front. Then on the reverse side of the coin there are all those seaside cartoons showing the lazy fat lady taking advantage of the henpecked husband toiling up the hill.
Seriously though, riding a tandem must be the ultimate in partner teamwork, and really does come into its own for touring. No waiting around at the top of hills or getting separated in traffic, and you can discuss plans, progress or gender politics as you go.
She isn’t pedalling on the back Just. Don’t. Whether said in good humour with all the panto style that can be mustered, or with deliberate intent to insult and offend, hearing this over and over again has to be the biggest downside of tandem riding. We honestly prefer the fart jokes. We’ve never achieved a satisfactory answer – too rude a put-down or technical rebuttal and you’re a humourless wretch, while jollying along by either end generates a deep sense of betrayal at the other. Our best tactic so far, especially if we see it coming (there’s an expression on the face), is to jump up for some coordinated honking – it undermines the joker, and removes us from the scene before damage is done.
Happily for our touring holidays, in France we’re more likely to hear “you’re cheating, there’s two of you” or even “You have an engine on the back”. (At least, I think that’s what they said …)