We set off to ride our bikes across Virginia in celebration of the state’s and nation’s 250th anniversary. But thanks to e-bikes there was more to discover than I knew.

The chain grated against the front derailleur.  It wasn’t much – a slight rubbing. On a normal ride I would not have noticed it.  But grinding my way up Clinch Mountain in far southwest Virginia, it might as well have been a chainsaw.  Such was the angst I was feeling. The pounding in my chest so loud that any other sensory input was like gasoline on the fire. Turn the cranks, hear the grind repeat.

I was in agony, pedaling in my easiest gear and hoping the grade would let up a bit and give my legs a break.

But the road continued to pitch up, and the chain kept grinding. 

Imagine then, my devastation as other riders cruised past me smiling and happy with no indication of the injustice Virginia Highway 80 was dishing out.

Climbing Clinch Mountain – No e-bike for me.

It was the first day of BRAVA 250, a bike ride across Virginia to celebrate the 250th anniversary of the Commonwealth and the United States.  We would tour the history-rich state, tracing frontier history in the west, then the Civil War battles of the Shenandoah Valley and Richmond, and finally the regions that defined the Revolutionary War and early settlements in Williamsburg, Jamestown, and Yorktown.

It would be a ride where revelations would be born.  About the beginning of our nation.  About the sacrifices of so many.  

And about how e-bikes and conventional bikes don’t mix.

OOPS.  That looks steep.

Less than a week before we left for the trip, my wife Mary and I looked at the course profile on Strava. For the first time we noted the climbing required over the first couple of days, and we began to get cold feet.

So cold that we ran out and bought her a new e-bike, just two days before the ride.

On the morning of the ride, we were still fine-tuning the bike’s fit at Roanoke’s Cardinal Bicycle.  

That done, we drove directly to the shuttle to begin the trip. That’s how new the e-bike experience was to us.

The e-bike reality

Thanks to the course profile, I was now aware of the climbing ahead – at least digitally. I wasn’t ready for the sudden shift in riding dynamics about to overtake me.

Our BRAVA (Bike Ride Across Virginia) group consisted of about 15 riders.  I planned to spend most of my miles with Mary on her new Trek Domane +.  Also with us was our friend Karen on a nearly identical Domane +.

What unfurled over the coming miles and days was a complete re-shuffling of our roles.  I anticipated some of this, but not the gut-wrenching inner monolog that would drive me to near despair.

The hardest section of the TransAmerica Bike Trail

The section of the U.S Bicycle Route 76 from Breaks Interstate Park to Blacksburg is widely considered the most difficult section of the entire route from Astoria, Oregon to Yorktown, Virginia.  The climbs are steep, long, and unforgiving.  

Unless you are on an e-bike.

The e-bike power assist is enough to take the edge off and then some.  At this point in our family e-bike experience, I didn’t realize the extent of “and then some.”

As the road predictably tilted up I confidently shifted to my granny gear, while Mary and Karen thumbed up a bit of e-assist.

From my analog, or as we began to say on the trip, “human” bike perspective, the task seemed pretty straightforward. I was ready to slowly spin my way up these challenging mountains. 

I was not prepared for my granny gear to be too hard to spin.  

I could not have trained harder.

We’ve all been in that place where we toggled the shift lever in vain, hoping for one more easier gear, only to find there is none.  It’s discouraging.  Even more so when you still have most of the climb in front of you, and the road ahead looks dauntingly steep — no little plateau where you might catch your breath or give aching legs a chance to recover.

There is nothing worse than riding 3.5 mph and being on the rivet.

Except for riding 3.5 mph and being on the rivet, while your wife glides past you seated, smiling, and chatting with her girlfriend.

And there it was.  The new world order of cycling spelled out in what would become a heartbreaking and frustrating several days of trying to reconcile my new reality.

The Existential Crisis

Even before the issues exacerbated by the e-bikes, I was facing a couple of other factors. First, I was only six months removed from rupturing my Achilles playing pickleball. Though I was cleared to ride, my leg strength and general fitness were not where I wanted. Also nagging — my age. In my mid-sixties, I had begun to doubt my ability to do hard things. I had been hoping to allay those fears on this bike ride. But the opposite was happening.

All of those issues began to crystallize on the first day of the BRAVA ride. In hindsight, it might have happened with or without the e-bikes. But those little electric motors made it worse.

As the first day wore on and the climbs of Big A and Clinch Mountains came and went, each episode of being dropped led to accumulating humiliation. By the end of the day, I was just angry. At my lack of fitness. At the terrible heat and humidity, and for being the waited-upon party. Call it a personality flaw, but last not a place that I take to easily.

Though I consider myself a rational person, no amount of reminders of Achilles’ injuries or the actual advantages of e-assist could offset the tightening knot in my gut and hang dog discouragement.. My legs burned from lactic acid, and I was irrationally angry.

I should have felt better when I learned that of the five people riding analog bikes, I was the only one to complete the entire 64-mile first day’s route. I wanted to take that as a win, and should have – but it would not sink in.

E-bikes make the road steeper – when you’re not the one riding one.

As it turned out, day 2 was only slightly easier. The ride from Damascus to Wytheville would be about 58 miles, with 4100 feet of climbing. While these are not terribly daunting numbers, to my legs it might as well have been the Alpe D’Huez.

I remember pedaling hard on a section of flat road where I could not go over 13 mph. And even then, my legs hurt. Of course, the e-bikes were well up the road, which only rubbed salt in the wound.

It was only day two, but I honestly wondered if I the rest of the ride was doable.

At the hotel that night, I confided to Mary that I might have to bail. The flood of emotions, combined with the pain, had me in an awful place. I was down on myself and the experience.

I don’t think I realized just how much of my identity was tied to riding a bike. Taken another revolution — if my self worth was determined by riding, and the riding was sucking, then it follows that my mood was in the trash.

To help me out, the ride’s wonderful organizers, Magical Mystery Bike Tours, offered the use of an extra e-bike they had stashed on the truck. But I was too stubborn to accept. I would do this on my own or not at all.

Thank God for Severe Weather

Day three began with a tour of the Wilderness Road Museum in New Bern, where we learned about explorers like Daniel Boone and the gateway to the American west. By then, my funk was in full rampage, and it would not let up. I was maxxing on the grumpy scale. Fortunately, heavy storms cut the day’s mileage in half, giving my legs a much-needed break.

I was hoping my mojo would improve with the half day off.

Catching my breath and a nice dedication

The trip took a nice turn at the beginning of day four as we joined a group of people in Botetourt County dedicating a new roadside marker for the 76 Bike Route.

We arrived for the unveiling of the marker along state route 779 on a farm owned by the Lee family. It was nice to be a small part of the recognition for the thousands of cyclists who had made the bike trek from Oregon to Virginia.

Feeling good after the dedication we set off for the next stop, but as we made our way toward the historic town of Lexington, the e-bike issues exploded. I was dropped on the first hill by my core group, and when we got back together there were some pretty hard feelings over who should have waited for who. We probably each shared a portion of the blame, but my frustration at being repeatedly dropped clouded my comprehension.

The gap between the e-bikers and my futility was now a full-fledged conflagration. This long-dreamed-of vacation was no picnic.

I was ready to go home.

E-bike to the rescue

As day five arrived and we faced 100-degree temperatures, and more than 4,600 feet of climbing, I called “uncle” and accepted the offer to ride the e-bike.

It was that or go home.

This was a serious surrender. I did not like my choices. Both felt like quitting. The e-bike felt like quitting just a little less.

Thus I found myself being fitted on a mint green Specialized Vado, complete with a step-through frame.

When I was growing up step through frames were called,”girls bikes.”

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

Ok. e-bikes are fun

And then I started riding.

I fiddled around with Specialized’s three boost modes, eco, trail and turbo – with turbo being the one that adds the most power. With just a tiny bit of exertion the bike sprang forward. Climb a small hill? What hill?

I felt like it was ruining me. Could I ever go back to an analog bike?

In the moment I wasn’t sure. But, for the first time in three days, I was having fun. Not type 2 fun, where the enjoyment comes after the pain passes. This was fun right there in the moment. It was like fresh powder in February, or hooking into a trophy trout on a dry fly. The kind of fun that makes you grin.

With 61-miles on the day’s docket, I resisted the urge to leave the bike in turbo lest I use too much battery. But cruising in eco was a piece of cake compared to my road bike. This despite the fact the Vado weighs somewhere around 35-pounds and rolls on fat, knobby-ish tires.

E-biking the mountain

I discovered too late that the two apps I used for the trip – Strava and Garmin will not record climbing data if you are on an e-bike. Makes sense.

They don’t want people claiming KOM’s if the motor assisted you up the hill. So I don’t have a lot of personal data to demonstrate the difficulty of the climb from Vesuvius to the Blue Ridge Parkway, but thanks to Ride with GPS and the Charlottesville Bicycle Club, I can tell you it rises 1549 feet over 3.7 miles. Click here to see the profile.

All I remember is that is was twisty and steep, but on the Vado it was easy. If the temperature hadn’t been over 90 degrees, I might not have broken a sweat. My notes from that day showed that I stayed in eco mode for most of the climb with a few hits of trail and turbo.

Mary and I rode up together chatting the whole way. What a difference from the first few days. Life was better with both of us on e-bikes.

100 degree heat

The next day found us riding 70 miles from Charlottesville to Rockville, just outside of Richmond. I ‘d enjoyed the Vado so much that I opted for another day. Although the climbing was not as dire as the day before, the forecast called for temps of 100-degrees. That and the fact that this was the longest day of our ride across the Commonwealth seemed like ample justification to ride the step-through bike.

Not to mention the lingering smile on my face from the day before.

We rode through historic Charlottesville, past the entrance to Monticello and other famous landmarks and made our way among scenic horse farms on our way south.

The heat and humidity would have been awful even if you were standing still. So riding a bike with or without boost took some doing.

We drank all the water we could, and went hard on electrolytes. At the lunch stop we had the option to get in the van. But most of us opted to keep riding.

I’m quite sure I would have been in the van if not for the e-bike.

Once again it saved me from bailing.

Choices

The following day was an easy tour of some of the civil war battlefields surrounding Richmond. It was the seventh consecutive day of riding, which may be a new personal record for me. Although it was only 28-miles over moderate terrain, I once again opted for the e-bike.

But I felt a little guilty.

I had used it for those two difficult days to recover from the beginning of the trip. But now I was wondering if I really needed it or just wanted that delightful assist.

It had not taken me long to get accustomed to the extra help.

A bit of cycling existential crisis

The e-bike set off some deep cycling thinking.

With the help from the e-motor, I no longer had to work as hard to accomplish my ride. In fact, at times I was hardly working at all. That means the workout from cycling was greatly reduced. I started to question why I ride bikes at all. Was it for fresh air? To see the scenery? For camaraderie? It forced me to re-think why cycling was my favorite pastime. Take away the pain and the sense of accomplishment and what was left? It was a two-wheeled existential crisis.

I began to think things through. If I’m an e-biker, am I no longer a cyclist? If there isn’t suffering is it still cycling? Is it enough just to get outdoors and see the scenery? Can I still feel that natural bit of smuggery when talking to non-cycling humans?

I still don’t have the answers. It will take some deep philosophical examination to reach any significant conclusions, and even then they will only pertain to me. So far no one has anointed me the Dalai Lama of cycling.

But, I know where my mind is taking me.

I enjoyed the e-bike. Pedaling more easily was fun. At the end of the e-rides I still felt as if I had done something both athletic and tiring. And yes, I really was enjoying the ride for reasons other than the struggle and bragging rights.

I began scrolling websites for e-bike pricing.

Back to Analog

Lest the demon e-bike draw me into the fires of desire, I switched to my analog bike for the ride from Richmond to Williamsburg on the mostly flat Capital Trail. (We climbed only 1,600 feet over 57 miles.)

My legs were back. The Pinarello felt zippy and the crisp handling reminded me of the joy this bike brings. The easy rollers on the trail were fun and despite the return of 100-degree heat I felt like attacking the small climbs as we passed several plantations, and swamps where Civil War soldiers once slogged into battle.

On flatter terrain the difference between the e-bikes and analog bikes was less noticeable. Maybe not at all. We all rode together with little regard for the extra oomph available on the Mary’s Domane +.

The joy of cycling had returned to my inner being, thus exorcising the severe funk from just a few days before.

The end of the ride

We arrived in Williamsburg on July 3rd, on target for our arrival in Yorktown for the Fourth of July and celebration of the 250th anniversary of both Virginia and the United States.

A day later, our group pedaled into the waterfront in Yorktown where Cornwallis surrendered to Washington marking the end of the Revolutionary War. As we wheeled into the park, we came upon a parade marking day’s anniversary.

For those of us on the Bike Ride Across Virginia it was the end of our journey. I think everyone was happy to have accomplished the feat of cycling across the Commonwealth.

It will take some time to filter all we saw, and to digest the changes in the Commonwealth as we pedaled from coal country in the west, to the tidal rivers of the coast, and all the mountains and history in-between.

To e-bike or not to e-bike

Unlike our brethren from two and a half centuries ago, we were not facing cannons, muskets and bayonets. Our challenge had been to ride sophisticated, modern and for the most-part expensive bicycles across the state – for recreation.

So I don’t wish to be overly dramatic.

But I sure would like an e-bike.

Many thanks to the great folks at Magical Mystery Bike Tours for providing the e-bike and for getting all of us across Virginia!