OddThinking

I ride a unicycle. Yes, one of those one-wheeled bikes.

Years ago, I went to my first International Unicycling Convention (or “Unicon”). Yes, they have those.

On about the third day, there was a gap in the programme. The previous competitions had completed. The next event was still some time away. The organisers were rushed off their feet trying to get results posted, and prepare for the evening’s activities. Some of the attendees used the opportunity to do some sight-seeing, or fetch a meal. However, a lot of others (including plenty of children) were milling around at the main hall, at a loose end, starting to get bored.

I decided to seize the moment. I grabbed a spare unicycle hockey stick, got another guy to hold the other end, and declared the World Championship game of Unicycling Limbo had started.

I had never played Unicycling Limbo before. I had never seen it played. I had never heard of it being played. It was, however, the perfect game for the occasion. It could be played by adults and children. It could be played by experts and novices. Importantly, it didn’t need translating into each of the languages present – it was obvious from watching others what needed to be done.

Soon, we had a queue of unicyclists waiting their turn for limbo. One of the organisers rushed past, saw that people were happily occupied and whispered his thanks, and trotted off to solve his next crisis.

As the players fumbled their way under the bar, the tactics to Unicycle Limbo started to become clearer.

Bending over backwards while riding a unicycle is nigh impossible, so leaning forwards was permitted. Leaning down low forwards is a challenging novice skill.

Soon, the stronger riders started getting involved. Riding with your stomach on the seat is an intermediate skill, and a huge advantage for Unicycling Limbo.

However, it soon became clear that the best tactic for Unicycle Limbo was not about riding skill, but about unicycle configuration. There was a huge benefit to having your seat down as low as possible – and that meant having a smaller wheel. The riders on 20″ wheels were easily beating the riders (like myself) who preferred to ride a 24″ wheel.

At about this time, when everyone had had a couple of tries, and the rankings were becoming clear, a German man in a big ski jacket walked up to me and said “What are you doing?”

I thought it was pretty obvious, but I replied with a smile, “We are playing limbo. They need to ride under the bar.”

“May I play?” he asked.

“Of course! Anyone can!”

That was his cue to reach into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a unicycle. From his pocket. A unicycle. A tiny, tiny unicycle with a wheel diameter of not much bigger than half-a-foot.

He rode under the bar with a huge clearance above his head.

The First Unicycle Limbo World Championship was immediately abandoned.