Can you remember those precious moments in your childhood when time seemed to stand still? The raucous cries from water fights reverberating around the garden? The excitement when strawberry ice cream season arrived, evident in the polka dot traces it left all over your top? That safe feeling when you were held by your parents?
As a child the ordinariness of the world around you was enough to get your heart racing. You could find joy in the most routine of moments, and stroking a cat was the height of pleasure. There was no pretence or posing; you were simply ‘you’, with no brakes on your character. But as you got older, it got harder and more angst-ridden to follow your intuition, second-guessing each move with your eyes glued to your phone instead of looking ahead of you, headphones that drown out your surroundings, and to-and-froing with Whatsapp conversations rather than joining in the dinner table chat.
At work, we respond with a diehard approach, falling prey to the common-held belief that strength needs to be proved – even though we understand deep down that real strength comes from acknowledging your weaknesses. Everything needs to be streamlined, efficient and quantifiable. KPIs reign over conversation; there’s a sum to calculate everyone’s worth. Simply doing something good isn’t enough. We go vegan to protect animals, drive electric cars to save the world, and go running to keep in shape, tracking each and every step while controlling our calorie intake. What happened to doing things just because we wanted to?
Everything needs a deeper meaning, even though we’re only able to scratch the surface. The quest of professional, well-thought-out, planned pursuits overshadows just how great it can be when a little bit of chaos is allowed in. We control our feelings, suppress emotions and somehow manage to forget who we are in the process.
On the bike this translates to FTP testing, strict training sessions, nutritional plans, and a pixelated wall of evanescent virtual trophies. If it’s not on Strava, it didn’t happen. Conversations with club mates revolve around lactate thresholds, bottom bracket stiffness, and your next aero bar purchase. More, faster, better. But road riding can offer so much more if you’re willing to shake off those standards you’ve heaped on yourself.
When Pinarello sent us two Nytro electric road bikes, we deliberated for a while about how we could truly scope out the potential of these bikes. We wanted to stay clear of the stereotype of ‘lazy lump on an e-bike’, or ‘girlfriend on e-bike riding with her fit boyfriend.’ So, what about just putting a non-roadie onto a road bike?
“Let’s go road riding next weekend, yeah?” Despite my valiant efforts, my MTB-obsessed dad wasn’t immediately enthralled by my suggestion. The last time he could recall being in the vicinity of narrow wheels and tight Lycra was 20 years ago following Jan Ulrich at the Tour de France – naturally from the comfort of his sofa. Concerns about fitness dissolved into a childlike curiosity when I casually threw in the idea of the Pinarello Nytro electric road bikes. “So, tell me,” he said excitedly: “Exactly how fast are these bikes? How powerful are the motors and how far will they last on a ride? But more importantly, where shall we go?”
“Be open for anything” , I responded secretively. Frankly, I had not even considered the route or distance. I didn’t mind where we headed, as long as it was just me and my dad having some long-neglected quality time. The loose idea was to set off at 5 pm and have a good ride.
Devout Sunday morning club riders would have rapidly lost their patience with my dad and I. Held up by our essential pre-ride coffee and a whimpering dog that demanded to be stroked, it wasn’t until 6pm that we hit the road. We shrugged off thoughts of the Velominati, embracing the ‘devil may care’ attitude. Things that are worth doing are worth doing in your own time, at your own pace.
Unlike regular e-bikes, the Fazua Evation motor on the Pinarello Nytro only provides a subtle push, adding a gentle but appreciated kick to my dad’s climbing. I get ahead of him, leading the way up the pass and giving him tips. I laugh at the role reversal, thinking back to how he taught the younger version of me so much, and how momentous it seems that I’m now in a position to pass on what I know and be there for him as support.
We flop down cheerfully in the grass at a viewpoint and look at the sky. For a moment, everything is serene. We were both sipping water from our bottles to rehydrate, so I couldn’t tell you who really started the water fight but I can tell you that it ended with one of those American sitcom-style hugs, rich with meaning. Despite getting older, it’s reassuring to note that Dad has kept hold of his strong set of shoulders that he’s always had and the hug feels brilliantly and unashamedly comforting, just like it used to, but perhaps even better.
We ride onwards, covering ground happily. At a market square we order two ice creams, but this time it’s dad that absentmindedly lets his cone melt all over his jersey. In this moment we forget that we’re on a ride. We forget that we’re riding electric road bikes. We’re just here, lazing in this sun-flooded market square, and can’t get over just how nice it is to be spending time with each other outside.
Cheat-riding, faux-pro fun, or idle enjoyment? Those who understand electric road bikes won’t need to ask this question.
Sport is about more than just fitness. Electric road bikes represent new opportunities. They propel you outside and kindle your inner urge to play and explore. They provide the confidence for you to take on big climbs and steep ramps again – just like the tender push from your parents when your energy was waning. They give you the power to flee for respite from life’s daily grind, especially on those days when you feel least like getting outside for a ride or when you know that your geographical location determines that there’s only one direction possible: uphill. They lend you a sureness that confirms road riding isn’t just for pros.
On an electric road bike ride, you’ll encounter new sides of road riding’s character as well as new places that you may never have reached with a standard road bike. Whether you’re going out on your own, with friends, parents or grandparents, you’ll recognise that the rules are no longer governed by physics, nor wind direction, age, or terrain – but by you.
Road bikes go beyond being just a ‘road’ bike. They become explore bikes, fun bikes, social bikes, dream bikes, commuter bikes.
Putting expectations of yourself and the length, speed and intensity of your ride to one side gives you more space to experience what’s around you, and ultimately have more fun. In our case, the electric road bikes served this purpose sublimely. We didn’t force ourselves to follow any righteous rules; it was just us and the bikes out there, like kids who aren’t bothered about what anyone else thinks of them. There are so many beautiful things in life, why can’t we just enjoy them?
This article is from GRAN FONDO issue #009
GRAN FONDO Cycling Magazine is published in a digital app format in both English and German. Download the app for iOS or Android to read all articles on your tablet or smartphone. 100% free!
Did you enjoy this article? If so, we would be stoked if you decide to support us with a monthly contribution. By becoming a supporter of GRAN FONDO, you will help secure a sustainable future for high-quality cycling journalism. Click here to learn more.
Words: Robin Schmitt Photos: Benjamin Topf
