E-Bikes Are Cheating

G was in the passenger seat of Fred’s Jag, and I was in the back when the subject of e-bikes came up.

We were on our way to the re-enactment of our Annual Solstice Bike Ride. 

This is the ride we’ve been doing for a hundred years now.  None of us can remember what year we started, so we just say 100, mainly because that’s how long ago it feels.

Anyway, G says e-bikes are cheating, or that she feels cheated by them in some way.

Since her shoulder is still in a sling from her rotator cuff surgery, we’ve been brainstorming ways for her to ride a bike for this annual ritual. That’s why the e-bike discussion came up, I think. 

I piped up from the backseat, “ I never felt cheated by someone on an e-bike,” I said, “And further, what does cheating even mean in this context? Cheated out of what? There’s no race. There’s no prize for making it from Darling Run to Blackwell in under an hour. 

Fred has an e-bike with a throttle. 

“That’s cheating, “ we all agreed. 

A bike with a throttle feels more like a small scooter or moped. You can cruise with minimal or no leg effort. They’re great when you’re tired of dealing with a hill, for example. Fred uses his to motor around the hilly backroads of his neighborhood. 

G still seems to want to feel cheated, so we all try to come up with some scenario where someone with an e-bike could be seen as cheating. 

It was hard. 

Most people I know who have e-bikes (and their numbers are increasing) have what’s called “pedal assist.” Pedal assist feels like a regular bike with a strong tailwind. Your legs are working, but each stroke takes you farther and faster than it normally would. 

“Why isn’t that cheating? G asks.

It would only be cheating if biking were synonymous with pain. If the hard work of biking were the definition of biking, then any amelioration of that pain would disqualify it as biking altogether.  

But if biking is pedaling through beautiful and interesting environments, feeling exhilarated as you whoosh through that landscape with a steady tailwind, and an even tempo? There is no cheating in that.

We drove up to Colton Point to check out the mountain laurel. We were about a week too early. 

We watched turkey vultures ride the thermals.

We drove to Darling Run to take our traditional start photo, but without bikes.

We got back in the car and drove a long way around to Blackwell, where we traditionally stop to pee and to give our behinds a rest.  As we drove by, we took a big breath. 

The final stop is always Cedar Run, where we have root beer floats and toast another year of our ritual. 

The three amigos with root beer floats.

Iconic root beer float

On our way out, we ask someone to take our photo. It’s the same setup every year.

For a hot minute we considered ditching the ride this year, a surrender to the shoulder, and then resuming it next year, but I’m glad we did this little re-enactment. 

It was fun.  And it served the same purpose as the bike ride, only without the bikes. Three friends spent a long summer day together, talking, laughing, and mocking each other.  We told the tales of the rides of yore, took the pics-or-it-didn’t-happen pics, and whooshed through the deep backwoods of Pennsylvania in a shiny Jaguar rather than on bikes.

But we didn’t cheat.

Because you don’t even need a bike to take that kind of ride.