or, how I learned to stop worrying and love the ebike

My dad introduced me to bicycles. Since I was a kid, we’ve gone on two-wheeled adventures together. A move to Colorado, however, hampered our mileage, as a newly developed breathing problem prevented him from fully exploring the mountains. That is, until we discovered ebikes.

An electronic, pedal-assisted bicycle was a game changer for my dad. Hills were flattened, horizons were brought closer, and his asthma became a non-issue. As the odometer ticked higher, we set our sights on more lofty objectives.

By pure chance, I saw a brief news clip about natural area closures due to the Covid-19 pandemic. Included in those closures was the road to the summit of Mt. Evans: the highest paved road in North America. The closure included cars, but not bicycles.

Recognizing the closure as a rare opportunity, we acted. Two days later we unloaded our bikes at Echo Lake, elevation 10,600’. Our goal was the summit of Mt Evans at 14,265’. Though it was late June, the high temperature at the summit was forecasted to be 40 degrees, with winds gusting to 30mph. We dressed in layers, despite a high in Denver in the mid 90s.

As we rode on, above the treeline, along precipes, towards a summit we’d yet to glimpse, I was struck by a sense of wilderness. The Front Range of Colorado is an increasingly crowded place. The Mt Evans road normally sees several hundred thousand visitors per year. On this ride, we saw more mountain goats than people.

After losing track of the number of switchbacks we traversed, we finally tagged the summit. Though we were above fourteen thousand feet, my dad was hardly winded. Five hundred watts of added power can have that effect.

Pointing our bikes downhill, I couldn’t help but laugh. Our accomplishment had almost seemed too easy. Purists might consider an ebike akin to cheating, yet without it, my dad and I would’ve never made these memories.