The Exciting Power Jolt of an E-Bike

I'm whizzing along the bike path to my doctor's appointment at a local clinic, California's Humboldt Bay to my left, pampas grass swaying to my right. I'm riding my new electric bike, which I bought for myself as a birthday present. I push the power up to 3 and feel the surge. Whee! 

I've owned a bicycle since I was 7. I cycled throughout school, and later all around New Orleans, where I went to college. In my 20s, when I met Barry, my future husband, we courted by cycling around the Canadian Gulf Islands, off the coast of British Columbia. A few years later, I rode my secondhand three-speed to work in Seattle, and in 1980 Barry and I bicycle-toured the Oregon Coast. That began a 20-year era when we cycled independently in Europe. We'd ship our bikes to Nice, Milan, Athens, Madrid, and other cities, cycling for several weeks through glorious countryside. Exploring an area by bike is much more intimate and immediate than by car or train.

While bicycling as a means of travel offers freedom and flexibility, it can also be a lot of work. For example, riding up one steep col (pass) after another in the Pyrenees, stunningly beautiful as each was, got a bit old. At the pass, we'd enjoy breathtaking scenery followed by a delicious descent — only to face yet another arduous climb. Too bad e-bikes didn't exist yet.

Up until 10 years ago, Barry and I never thought we'd succumb to e-bikes. We were purists, after all. We didn't even ride with tour groups, where panniers are luxuriously shipped ahead in a van. But in 2013 we visited southeast Asia and were amazed by the number of e-bikes everywhere. Seeing all these cool, high-functioning bikes inspired us, and when we returned home, Barry jerry-rigged his hybrid, transforming it into an e-bike that we shared. Unfortunately, it didn't really work for me. While I loved the surge it provided, the seat was too high, and I never felt comfortable on it. 

In Eureka, the "Victorian seaport" on California's North Coast where we live, we deliberately chose a home in a walking neighborhood, where cafes, bookstores, the library and other amenities are easily accessible by foot.

I've never liked the United States' car culture, nor had a car of my own until I was 37, when we moved to Silicon Valley and I couldn't get by otherwise. Today Barry and I own an elderly 1990 Mazda Miata that we rarely use. I drive to Arcata, a university town 7 miles away where a couple of my friends live, but otherwise avoid using a car. Driving too often makes me irritable and cranky, which I take as a healthy sign, as humans are not wired to sit behind a steering wheel. Plus, I feel guilty doing errands in a car. According to the website ourworldindata.org, using a bike instead of a car for short trips reduces travel emissions by around 75%.

I've had an eight-speed folding bike for 15 years, but I don't use it that much locally because of Eureka's hills and scarcity of dedicated bike paths. Nor do I ride to Arcata, because there's not a protected bike path, through construction is underway and a trail will be completed by next spring. 

When my father died two years ago, I decided an $800 e-bike would be a great way to spend part of my inheritance, since my dad was my first model of fitness. Besides, at 73, I've decided I've earned a bit of rest, and now I'm the happy owner of a lightweight e-bike that fits beautifully. 

Now I'm getting to know neighborhoods that are too far away to reach on foot, and where I might otherwise give in to laziness and (God forbid) drive to. Ever since New Orleans, I've been fascinated by architecture, so on my e-bike I admire the intricate moldings, bay windows and gabled balconies that I see in Greek Revival, Queen Anne and Victorian houses. 

Though I've always worn a helmet, in the past I was often not a very safe rider. I was too casual and didn't pay enough attention to traffic. In fact, Barry was convinced my tombstone would say, "But it was my right of way!" But on my e-bike, it's a different story. At 46 pounds, it's relatively light — not the behemoth some models are — but it's still heavier and more powerful than any of my previous bicycles. Because of the damage it could cause, I'm much more cautious when riding it. Whenever I near pedestrians, traffic, hidden corners, or a yield or stop sign, I zero the power. I don't have to — I could use the brakes — but while I'm still adapting to it, I'd rather be conservative.

Even with an assist, I'm still getting a gentle workout, because I rarely use the throttle, which doesn't require me to pedal. Often, I'll use the power briefly, just to give me a little zip, then turn it off. Sometimes I happily head down steep streets, knowing I'll be helped along when I cycle back up.

My e-bike also encourages to me to go outside, away from my laptop and from social media. Even if I'm not in a park, I notice trees, landscaping, clouds, shadows and the changing light. Sometimes I hear the birds singing as I ride along.

I didn't really enjoy cycling in Eureka before, but now I'm having fun. It has changed my entire mental map of the town. And I can't wait to cycle to Arcata when the bike path opens. What I didn't expect from my e-bike is the sheer sensual pleasure I experience when riding it. I click lightly on the button and I'm off, sailing down the road as if on a magic carpet, carried along almost weightlessly. The surge of power fills me with a delicious and childlike feeling, and I feel like I'm 7 years old again.