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Pushing on to a clear bit of pavement, we mounted and were off toward the west side. Both Dan and I had ridden bicycles at earlier periods in our career, and had spent a little time in Lincoln Park practising on the tandem, but we were far from being expert riders. The double steering gear which should enable the man to help the woman steady the front wheel was broken, so, loaded as we were, I found the task of steering a difficult one.

As we wobbled our serpentine way through the streets, fortunately nearly empty at that early hour, it seemed to me that this was the strangest nightmare that ever vexed the soul of woman. There was a weird beauty in the morning light, the breath of freedom in the gentle breeze. The spirit of adventure rode with us. I had a feeling of detachment from earthly things while realising to the full the perils and difficulties of the venture.

An ash can in the street caught my eye. With incredible accuracy I headed for it.

“Hi!” cried Dan, “look where you’re going.”