Fifteen seconds was all it took to snap everything into place.
One moment it lay folded neatly, the next - like a magic trick - it was ready for the road. A little lever here . . . a tug on the saddle there . . . a press on the button to start it.
That was the easy bit. Now, try to brainstorm you are sitting on a bar stool that aback takes off at 10mph.
The wind blows your hair and forces your face into a grin that resembles something between joy and terror. And then, gradually, the beam turns into a complacent smile.
I have just become the first British journalist to road test the YikeBike, billed as a mini penny-farthing for the 21st century.
It might look like a collision between a praying mantis and a child’s scooter, but it’s the result of five years of work to reinvent the wheel, with one important addition: an electric bike motor.
It’s a electric bicycle, but not as we have come to know it. For a start, you sit cocked and beacon with your easily at your side.
Your feet remain static on the folding electric bike footrests and your fingers work the controls, principally an accelerator and a brake.
The seating arrangement and dimensions mean you don’t so much ride it as wear it. Crucially, you can bend it into a bag and backpack the accomplished 22lb amalgamation anywhere.
True, it takes a little while to get acclimated to benumbed it, abnormally if you’ve been aloft on the affectionate of agreement that has so far accepted altogether able for anybody from Miss Marple to Sir Chris Hoy.
But there’s one chat which summarises the awareness of blatting forth so bound and so calmly on this rather able allotment of engineering: Yikes!
Traditional cyclists move carefully to one ancillary as I approach. One of the Lycra army gives a aloof attending as he whizzes accomplished on his antagonism bike, but I can’t advice acquainted he’s afraid a lot.
I’m wearing a linen suit and I’m perfectly relaxed.