Worst Wheels
WORST WHEELS – March 16, 2024 – Tucson, Arizona, USA
It was Evan’s first time on an electric bike. His friends, Brian and Tom, constantly nagged him to try one and he finally gave in. Their bikes were sleek and fast-looking and cost thousands of dollars. Evan rode a utilitarian rental with fat tires and a wide seat. It looked more suited for package deliveries than for long-distance treks.
“You ready to get your heart pumping?” Brian asked Evan.
“I wasn’t planning on it pumping too fast,” Evan replied. Like his friends, he was dressed casually in long shorts and a loose shirt.
Brian laughed and said, “We’ll stop for a break after twenty miles.”
“Twenty miles? You gotta be kidding!” Evan replied in protest.
“You’re going to be surprised how easy it is with the e-bike assist,” Tom interjected. “Going twenty miles is nothing. You’ll want to go all day.”
“This better not be a trick to pedal out to the middle of nowhere and then abandon me.”
“Relax and just follow us. The only surprise ahead of you is how easy your ride will be,” Brian replied.
The three set out from the northwest corner of Tucson along a paved trail called The Loop. Heading southeast, they hugged the banks of dry riverbeds which only held water after rare seasonal cloudbursts. Typically, they were filled with sand and scrub bushes. As they sped along, Tom and Brian shouted out the names of the rivers and intersecting trails. Brian continued to say that they could make a 50-mile-long loop of the entire city.
Evan was surprised by how much he enjoyed the dry wind in his face and the semi-isolation of following the river. He was used to staring at concrete and buildings while navigating the city by car. The riverbank view provided a welcome slice of nature, and the early spring temperature felt nearly perfect.
The paved trail dipped and rose as it crossed under bridges or intersected dry washes that fed into the river. Evan kept the pedals on his bike moving, but when he needed to climb, he felt the electric motor kicking in to help. Instead of slowing down, he easily maintained a speed between fifteen and twenty miles-per-hour, as shown on the bike’s speedometer.
Despite the fun he was having, Evan noticed that some of the path’s users were not thrilled he was there. Serious looking riders on more traditional bikes pedaled past wearing dirty looks. When they swerved to pass on the left side of the trail’s striped dividing line, they made a point of glancing at Evan’s bike with disgust. Evan pumped hard on his pedals to demonstrate he was not merely relying on his electric motor.
After going several miles down the trail, Evan found himself feeling the same kind of annoyance the serious bikers displayed. Whenever he swerved to pass pedestrians and skateboarders who were practically standing still and often on the wrong side of the divider stripe, he could not help grumbling under his breath.
At the end of twenty miles, Brian and Tom pulled off the trail near a cluster of shops and restaurants.
“So what do you think?” Brian asked.
“I don’t feel tired. I can’t believe we’ve gone so far,” Evan replied.
“It only gets better on a better bike,” Tom said.
“Is this where we stop? Are we turning around?”
“Yeah, but before we do, we usually get some refreshments,” Brian replied, gesturing toward a nearby Mexican restaurant named Mama Chu’s.
The trio pushed their bikes to a rack located close to the bike path and the restaurant’s covered patio. Brian and Tom assured Evan they would be able to monitor the bikes and should leave them unlocked. Then they climbed a few steps to the patio and found an open table overlooking everything coming and going on the paved path.
A waitress instantly appeared and Brian did the talking for the group. “We only want drinks. Diet Cokes for all of us. And bring out some chips and salsa.”
She was back with the order in less than a minute. Then she moved to an adjoining table to check on another cyclist group. They were the more serious variety, squeezed into neon-colored spandex shorts and tops. From listening to their conversation with the waitress, it was obvious they had been relaxing a while and were drinking something more intoxicating than Diet Coke. The loudest cyclist wore a bright pink outfit. He switched between flirting with the waitress and arguing with her over how many rounds of drinks they ordered. He sounded a lot bolder than he probably did in his workday life. Evan guessed the pink cyclist was some type of frustrated accountant who reported to a difficult boss.
The waitress lost her patience and warned the neon cyclists they needed to pay their entire bill. After she stormed away, the pink cyclist remained bold and confident. He felt obligated to make his buddies laugh and turned his attention toward the closest possible targets – Evan, Tom, and Brian.
“You ladies riding those e-bikes?” the pink cyclist called. “Don’t your legs work at all?”
Brian quickly responded. “Our legs work just fine.”
“Every time I pass an e-bike, someone’s just sitting there not moving a muscle like it’s a joyride. If you wanna sit around, do it at home. Stay off the trail.”
“The trail’s for everyone,” Brian aggressively replied. “My tax dollars paid for it too.”
“You pay taxes? Looks like you dumped all your money into your battery bike.”
“Don’t talk to me about expensive bikes. How much did you spend to look like you’re in the Tour de France? It’s not working, by the way. Your gut’s about to bust out of your spandex.”
“I’m in ten times better shape than you are!”
“In your dreams.”
“You want me to come over there and show you?”
“You probably can’t make it out of your chair.”
Brian and the pink cyclist stared menacingly at each other. Evan glanced back and forth like a terrified rabbit deciding which way to run. How had a chance meeting escalated so quickly? They were one lunge away from physical violence. Was Brian willing to fight the pink guy? Would Evan be dragged into it? He was not even sure what they were fighting about. E-bikes versus regular bikes? Evan could not care less. He was not ready to risk a blow to the head on a restaurant patio over e-bikes.
“What are you doing?” Evan whispered to Brian. “Just let it go.”
“I’m not letting anything go,” Brian said in return, inching his chair away from the table. “And you better have my back.”
Evan’s heart raced as he shook his head and scooted his chair closer to the table. As Brian acted poised to stand up, two skaters on longboards stopped in front of the patio. Each wore rolled up jeans and a baggy, long-sleeved shirt. They ran their fingers through their shaggy hair before grabbing their boards, climbing the short steps, and plopping down at a table. They leaned their boards against a nearby chair.
Brian and the pink cyclist seemed to forget their argument as they turned their attention to the skaters. The same mischievous grin appeared on both of their faces. The cyclist called toward the skater’s table. “You sure you’re supposed to be using the bike trail? Shouldn’t you be in a skate park somewhere?”
“Who are you, the cops?” one of the skaters replied.
“I just want a safe place to ride. That’s impossible with you in the way.”
Brian jumped in to add, “Yeah, you guys are an accident waiting to happen. You should stick to the sidewalk unless you’ve got really good insurance.”
The more confrontational of the skaters gave Brian and the pink cyclist nasty looks. “Okay, boomers. Next you’ll be telling me to get off your lawn. You better get used to skateboards ‘cause we’re taking over.”
“Go ahead and take over, just don’t do it on the bike trail,” the pink cyclist responded.
“I don’t see your name on it. Did you pay for it?”
The skater looked ready for a fight. Evan barely believed what he was seeing and hearing. Was there something in the air around the patio triggering a testosterone spike? At least Evan was happy the e-bike versus regular bike confrontation seemed forgotten. If a new brawl broke out, it was going to be bikers versus skaters and Evan liked having numbers on his side. Hopefully, he could slip away untouched.
As Evan slunk in his chair attempting not to be noticed, the back-and-forth between the skater, Brian, and the pink cyclist grew louder and more personal. Threats like, “I’m gonna come show you what I mean,” were thrown around. It seemed like someone was on the verge of making a first move when two new visitors arrived from the bike trail.
Riding up on electric monowheels, a pair of twenty-year-olds wearing headphones traipsed over to the restaurant. Holding a monowheel in one hand and a phone in the other, they climbed up to the patio and found seats. They stared absent-mindedly toward the paved trail before devoting their attention to their phones.
The skaters and cyclists forgot their differences with each other and focused on the monowheelers. Brian, the pink cyclist, and the loudmouth skater shared the same cynical grin.
“You’re not supposed to have those toys on the bike trail!” the pink cyclist shouted.
“They’re a menace. Nothing but an accident waiting to happen,” Brian added.
“And what’s the point of riding them?” the loudmouth skater interjected. “All you do is stand there. No physical effort whatsoever.”
“You might as well stay home and stand in front of a TV,” the pink cyclist said.
“Yeah, you’re way worse than pedestrians. At least their legs are moving,” Brian continued.
“I don’t get the whole one wheel thing at all,” the skater concluded.
Neither of the monowheelers reacted as they concentrated on their phones.
“Hey, we’re talking to you!” the pink cyclist shouted.
One of the monowheelers finally lifted and rotated his head. He removed his headphones. “Did somebody say something?”
The bikers and skaters shook their heads in disgust. The pink biker yelled, “They’re totally oblivious.”
“I’ll bet they’re not even going to order anything,” Brian added. “They’re just sitting there taking up patio space. Just like they do on the trail.”
The monowheeler returned the headphones to his ears without a reply and went back to staring at his phone.
At that point, the neon cyclists decided it was time to leave. They threw some cash onto the table and stood up. As they sauntered toward their bikes, the pink biker gave a head nod toward the e-bikers and skaters. “See you out there,” he called. “Watch out for the boys with their toys.”
A few minutes later, Brian decided the e-bikers should also get back on the trail. He paid for their chips and drinks and motioned for Tom and Evan to follow him off the patio. Evan was still confused by all the jawing that had taken place between the groups.
“You ready to get your heart pumping again?” Brian asked.
“My heart was pumping more on the patio than it was on the trail. What was all that about? I thought someone was gonna throw a punch.”
Brian laughed. “Nah, we see those guys all the time. We like razzing each other. All part of the fun.”
“That was all kidding around? Why didn’t you tell me? That’s not how those road bike guys really feel about e-bikes? Or how you feel about skateboarders?”
“Eh, what you heard is pretty much how we feel about each other. But we’ve learned to live together.”
“Even the monowheelers?”
“Who knows about them. They’re new.”
Evan stood still for a few moments, sorting out all the new information.
“So, are you ready to go e-bike shopping after we get home?” Brian asked. “You can be one of the regulars on The Loop.”
Evan smirked before replying, “I’ll let you know. Maybe I want a regular bike or a skateboard. I’m still deciding which wheels are best. And worst.”
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