On the back cover of the Winter 1995 issue of Arrivee, the Audax UK magazine, was an advert from Ross recumbents headlined "Why Sit on a Pogo Stick When Armchair Comfort Is Available?" I glanced at the ad and accompanying pictures of a Trice recumbent trike and Ross SWB bike and thought "Hmmm..."

I'd done my first Audax ride, a 200 km, in September 1993. The next year saw my faithful Longstaff notch up an End-to-End, several more 200's, and a 300 km, which, to my surprise, proved to be no harder than a 200--just longer. I was clearly on the slippery slope. The idea of attempting Paris-Brest-Paris (1200 km in a maximum of 90 hours) began to seem almost rational. In 1995 I set out to qualify for PBP, which meant completing rides of 200, 300, 400, and 600 km by specified deadlines in the early part of the season.

One of the Audax UK rules states that routes should be "interesting." This translates as "hilly." Certain rides qualify for Audax Altitude Award points, which means "ludicrously hilly." It so happened that the only convenient qualifying rides at 300, 400, and 600 km fell into this category. Bizarrely, I made the discovery that I enjoyed the hilly rides more than the flatter ones--if you don't go up, you can't come down! I completed my qualifying series for PBP by riding the Brimstone 600, which allegedly takes its name from the butterfly rather than the more than 12 metres of climbing lurking in every kilometre. This ride took me into unknown physical territory--confronting me with hills after 30 hours in the saddle that I would have thought twice about on a Sunday morning pootle. I made a couple of discoveries: If I go slowly enough I can climb more hills than I would have believed possible; and after 600 km bits of me begin to go numb that I would rather didn't....

Like Audax riding, recumbents can sometimes appear to be a closely guarded secret, and there are few readily available sources of information. I noted the recumbent ad in Arrivee, and pondered a couple of recumbent tests in Cycling Plus. Finally, in the winter of 1996, I decided practical investigations were in order. Edinburgh-London, at 1400 km the longest Audax event in the world, was on the calendar for 1997, and I didn't fancy sitting on a conventional saddle for that distance.

At this point I had never actually set eyes on a recumbent. I posted a request for information on the Internet mailing list for Audax riders, and this was forwarded by some public-spirited soul to the HPV mailing list. I gleaned much helpful information from the responses, particularly those of Recumbent UK co-editor Richard Loke. I arranged to test ride a few different models of recumbent at FutureCycles in Forest Row.

Riding a bike is something I'm better than average at, and spend a lot more time than average doing. So I was expecting to pick up the knack of recumbent riding without problems... Unfortunately, this wasn't so, and I think Patrick at FutureCycles, wearing his instructor's hat, was on the point of putting me in the hitherto empty box marked 'Total Failure' when something clicked, and I found myself riding more or less steadily round the car park.

I sampled a Linear (loooong; the front wheel was in Kent while the back wheel was still in Sussex), a StreetGlider (stable and beautifully built, but I thought I wanted above-seat steering), a Kingcycle (whoosh! Caution: Low flying banana), and a Speed Ross (like the Kingcycle, but only one wheel was a funny size instead of both). That afternoon I took the Ross on an excursion on the lanes in Ashdown Forest, muttering the recumbent mantra: "Lean back. Relax. Don't haul on the bars." It was excellent fun, though a reversion to upright-style heaving on the handlebars forced me to bale out on the ascent of a 1 in 5 as the Ross veered across the road, and the handling, like that of the Kingcycle, was on the twitchy side of lively.

My test rides had shown me that the recumbent riding position was very comfortable--there'd obviously be no problems with sore wrists or neck on a long Audax event. Or numb bum. On the other hand, long Audax events involve riding when you're short of sleep, and twitchy handling could mean unscheduled visits to the ditch. It was also clear that, for me at any rate, the learning curve on a recumbent bike would be quite long.

So, applying a little lateral thinking, I opted for a trike. The 97 Trice is substantially revised from earlier models, and production glitches with the initial batch meant that I was able to take delivery of my machine only on the Friday before the 6 AM Saturday start of the Brimstone 600. Oh well, there's nothing like jumping in at the deep end...

The Trice performed faultlessly on the Brimstone, but its rider, entering the event with only 4 hours sleep, had difficulty staying awake on the Somerset Levels and ran up against the time limit after climbing Cheddar Gorge at about the 400 km point. I then rode back to the start at Poole, completing a first real recumbent ride of 500 km (can I claim this as an unofficial record?).

It was clear after the Brimstone that the Trice was overgeared for the kind of hills that feature on most of the Audax routes I ride. I swapped the 11-28 block for an 11-30 (incidentally, even this isn't quite low enough; I'll be at the head of the queue for a Nexave wide-range rear mech). But that was about the only problem. The trike was remarkably comfortable. After 500 hilly km in 32 hours my knees were a bit sore (bizarre, eh?), but arms, neck, and bum didn't even know they'd been for a ride. I had a sore spot on my back from leaning forward to the controls; I've now adjusted the bars to bring them closer.

I successfully rode the Trice on Edinburgh-London three weeks later. This was my first ride of more than 600 km, and proved to be my first event completed on recumbent (another unofficial record to claim there, perhaps...). So there's no doubt that recumbents can make successful machines for endurance events. But there's also no question that I found differences in performance between Trice and upright.

The trike is slower on hills, and the steeper the hill the greater the difference appears to be. In the flatlands I can keep up with friends I usually ride with, but in hilly terrain I fall behind. As a consequence I find myself spending more time riding on my own in events on the Trice--I'm not so much faster downhill as to make up for the slower climbs. Edinburgh-London allowed me to sample both extremes of the trike-plus-gradient spectrum. Downhill: I overtook a tandem on a descent in Scotland, cackling manically. Uphill: I was twiddling my way up a 1 in 6 near Royston, basking in the sunshine and listening to birdsong in the hedgerow, when I was overtaken by a jogger.

Though the trike is slower overall than the Longstaff, it's so relaxing and comfortable that on Edinburgh-London I finished at pretty much the same time as the friends who outpaced me on the road--I could keep going for longer and needed less recovery time.

Navigation is very easy with the head-up riding position. I have a small Ortlieb waterproof map case slung around my neck to carry my route sheet. The Trice also allows me to take maximum pleasure in my surroundings. Scenery comes in cinerama on a recumbent.

There's an unrivalled sense of security on descents thanks to tremendous stability, safe handling, and powerful brakes. When I encounter a road sign warning of a 1 in 4 descent on the trike, I think "Heh heh heh heh heh." On the upright I think "Ooh-er."

Luggage on the Trice required a rethink. On my Longstaff I use a rack-top bag plus bar bag for longer events, but the bar bag is not an option available to the Triceman. Instead I use a pair of small panniers, plus a bum bag cunningly reconfigured as a tum bag. It's as well to break yourself of the habit of absently stuffing a banana in a back pocket too.

Lighting was a problem that was easily solved. A 3-watt headlight is mounted on the boom, driven by a dynamo on the left chainstay (I can reach behind and switch on the dynamo as I ride), and I have installed two LED rear lights on the luggage rack. There's also a front LED on the offside kingpin.

I'd feared that three wheel tracks would mean triple the risk of p*nct*re. At the risk of offending the P*nct*re Gods, this doesn't appear to be the case, perhaps because each wheel is less heavily loaded than on a bike.

The trike has proved comfortable, practical, and reliable. So will I be using it for all my Audax events in 1998? No: The Longstaff is quicker (Audax events aren't races, but sometimes they can feel like it) and easier to transport by car or rail. The upright will be my mount of choice for most 200's and 300's. And some 400's. But when it comes to the really silly distances, I'll be riding a silly machine. With that silly recumbent grin on my face.

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