The e-bike, a modern twist on the age-old invention, has transformed how people move around in cities like Denver. Here in Baltimore, the city’s transportation department is encouraging people to jump on the electric bicycle trend with its own pilot voucher program. So I rented one.
Over five days, I logged just shy of 81 miles to work meetings, grocery runs and blowing off steam after a Ravens loss. In Baltimore, roughly 54% of trips are three miles or shorter, according to federal data.
Could an e-bike make them easier? Could I even — dare I say it — swap out my Chevy for two wheels instead?
I wanted to find out.
My ride
I ride a traditional bike around Baltimore a decent amount, but I’ve never ridden anything quite like this.
I rented a Pedego Ridge Rider — a versatile, do-it-all monster of a bike that can get up to 28 mph on fat, mountain bike tires. I honestly thought it would be too much bike. After a couple of rides among bumpy Baltimore potholes, I was grateful for every tread.
Like most other e-bikes, the Ridge Rider’s motor can assist as you pedal. It can also reach 20 mph without even pedaling, using the throttle on the right handlebar.
The first time up a hill when the pedal assist kicked in, I felt like the whole city had just opened up to me. This is not your grandpa’s single speed, folks.
Commute
Upper Fells Point to Edmondson-Westside High School: 7.5 miles, 36 minutes (15 minutes slower than driving)
The Ridge Rider replaced quick bike rides with ease. The real test would be if it could handle trips I would typically use my car for because of distance or hills. Last Saturday, I hopped on the Ridge Rider to attend a public meeting about the proposed light rail Red Line. On the 7.5-mile trip west from my home, navigating and riding with traffic were way easier than on a traditional bike.
I took low-traffic roads to the Inner Harbor promenade — just like my typical office bike commute — before looping up Conway Street and splitting the stadiums. With an e-bike, it was easier to react to a pedestrian stepping into the street or a driver more interested in their phone than the road.
Then I cruised through Pigtown along Washington Boulevard, heading for Carroll Park and then to the Greenway Trail along Gwynns Falls. I loved the versatility of keeping pace with cars on low-stress streets but also using beautiful park trails.
The West Baltimore trail was downright picturesque. The sound of my tires rolling over the bridge mixed with the burble of Gwynns Falls as yellow and brown leaves floated down onto the perfectly paved path.
Yet, even with more power in the pedal, after leaving the trail I realized e-bikes are subject to some of the limitations of the general bike experience in the city.
For every trail or separate bike lane I found over five days — Maryland Avenue, Monument Street, the redone Harford Road bridge — or low-car-traffic road I could take, there were multilane streets with zipping traffic to cross. On another Saturday ride, I waited close to four minutes at an intersection with Orleans Street just to cross the street.
No matter which side you take on Baltimore’s weird bike lane debate or how “complete” you like your streets, it’s a simple fact that the city’s bike infrastructure is disjointed. Bike lanes suddenly end in multilane roads. You can only get so far before you have to, at least for a bit, traverse a Loch Raven Boulevard or an Orleans Street.
Or a Wilkens Avenue. I emerged from the trail onto the small sidewalk separating me from four lanes of traffic and slammed my brakes. I turned my head as I heard the rumbling of some massive vehicle — a midsize SUV with huge tires and painted to look like the Gravedigger sped past me at what appeared to be well above the speed limit. The words of that tourism jingle played in my head — this is Baltimore.
Errands
Upper Fells Point to Canton Crossing: 2.5 miles, 11.5 minutes (roughly same time as driving)
One of the main knocks on biking is: “but you can’t carry anything.” Well, you just have to get creative.
The pathways through Patterson Park and the lights along Eastern Avenue and Conkling Street made for an easy ride — it’s one I could do on my regular bike. But I don’t have the legs to ride home with a whole week’s groceries stuffed into a 40L backpack.
A big pack didn’t throw off my weight distribution while riding and, with the bike’s powerful throttle, I didn’t lose speed or expend additional energy getting up hills on my way home.
There are even special cargo bikes for hauling stuff, but of course they have their limits. Strapping your grandmother’s coffee table to the back of a bike might turn you into a meme. But, hey, there are friends with pickup trucks for a reason.
I couldn’t quite fit an entire week’s worth of food into my pack, but, yes, I got there in roughly the same amount of time as I do with my car. Bike racks right outside the entrance meant I had premium parking, too. Sadly, the Canton Crossing parking lot isn’t any less chaotic on a bike.
Rides around
Upper Fells Point to Belvedere Square area: 7.7 miles, 36 minutes (14 minutes slower than driving)
The Ravens may have lost to the Browns on Sunday, but at least I felt as agile as Lamar Jackson on my way to and from a friend’s house to watch our defense choke the game away.
I flew up the St. Lo Drive bike lane at 23 mph, faster than Derrick Henry running untouched against the Bills. No stiff arms necessary.
Being able to accelerate up to speed faster than on a regular bike and take on hills is such a game changer. It gave me more confidence to, where appropriate, ride with traffic and take up the whole lane instead of cowering in fear off to the right side. On streets with a 25 mph or 30 mph speed limit, I kept pace with traffic and never felt I was impeding cars. I could also show up to work meetings with my breath and without the sweat.
The physical strain when riding was generally minimal to nonexistent. The pedal-assist is just that good. For me, the strain came elsewhere.
Storing an e-bike proved a little more challenging than a traditional bike. I live in a second story walk-up apartment. The Ridge Rider is nearly 55 pounds with the battery attached, which wouldn’t be so bad if bikes weren’t so dang unwieldy in a narrow staircase.
I secured the bike with a heavy-duty lock to designated racks and street signs and anything stable looking around town but never for more than an hour or two. I wasn’t worried about the lock breaking but rather about people’s creativity. At my last house, someone stole a bike that I had U-locked to the back deck by ripping the deck post out.
So where — and how — to park and store a bike is always an important consideration. My apartment is tight on space, but with a less bulky bike I could easily make it work. The Banner’s newsroom has easy storage. It’s everywhere else that requires planning and forethought.
Takeaways
Let’s start with the good things.
- Efficiency: With stoplights and signs, low-traffic roads and parking considerations, it was, at times, faster to ride the e-bike than to drive for shorter trips.
- Cost: Insurance and maintenance on a gas guzzler are way more expensive than bike coverage. Your auto insurance can’t keep going up if you don’t have an auto.
- It was just straight up fun. I discovered pockets of the city I didn’t previously know and felt much more connected with my surroundings.
But it wasn’t perfect.
- Weather: I rented the bike for five sunny days in early fall when temperatures were mild to beautiful. Now, I’ve biked in the winter, but I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed biking in the winter. And I’ve heard horror stories of tires slipping on wet roads and sending riders to the pavement while it’s raining.
- Longer trips and hauling stuff: I can’t always set aside 30 to 40 minutes for a trip that I could do in 15 to 20 in a car. Sometimes a backpack isn’t enough to haul everything I need. And for going out of town — am I going to turn into that friend who always has to ask others to drive?
An e-bike won’t make sense for everyone. But, for those looking for a new way around town or to save on the high cost of owning a car, it could be a game changer. For me, it might be what makes me sell the Chevy.
