It occurred to me recently while sitting on a beach recovering from another binging session of over working, illness and a disgusting lack of riding that I had never fully rounded out the mini series that was fuelled by fear, self loathing, batteries and now the distinct aroma of humble pie. (Ed note – I left this out of date opener intact to pay homage to how long this MF post has been in the oven for… Roasted)

And not just an aroma either, Yes, this also has the rich taste of deep throating humble pie, and not just any ordinary pie. No, this one is garnished with the cream of the hundreds of ePhiles out there who railed against my character assassination of them over a series of posts, starting with my entrenched position of “Not in my back forest

I am of course, talking about the insidious creeping of eBikes into our lives, garages, riding crews and trails. We last left this whole saga at Part 4 of the confrontation of the E-lephants in the room, a “Where the fuck did that go?!” 2 years ago now.

It may beg the question as to why it’s taken me so long to bring this obvious mini-series to a conclusion, and work excuse aside, I’ve mostly been working through my list of excuses and ass covering options to explain where I’ve been hiding this whole time. To be fair, I have form on this front; you may remember me from such entrenched positions as “Come and rip my 26 inch wheels from my cold fox gloved hands you 27.5 and 29er Freaks” or “I will never have SRAM on my bike“, only to later fold and take whatever medicine the Bike Industry deems I require to make my Instagram posts pop, as I pay a premium to hand over my free will to what will probably become tomorrows Umbrella Corporation.

Yes, the brutal (and obvious) confession is that, not unlike a Republican Congressman, I’ve spent that last 2 years enjoying the fuck out of myself aboard the very thing I cast deep aspersions on. Case study, actually smiling as I invite my new Robot overlords in to remove what remains of my fitness and tiny soul:

At this point you as a readership will be split roughly along tribal lines: half will be horrified and, while maybe not angry, then disappointed. The remaining half will be reaching for a very valid; “No shit, this meets my expectations and welcome to the dark side“.

So with that in mind, this post is designed for those of you in the former group, but are crying inside to taste that sweet motor assisted multi-lap shredding action. It’s important that we don’t let my demise and public shame go to waste, but instead harness my turncoat carcass to set yourself free. Somewhere out there is an App for you to download so you can communicate with your bike. To be noted, said bike will probably inform the army of Elon clones sent to hunt us in 2030 of your exact location, but in the meantime it will be useful to help you destroy the local trails you do zero dig days on… Life is swings and roundabouts.

So, if you’ve ever used a range of mild to extreme slurs to refer to eBikes, or people mounted atop them, then let me help guide you in your transition to navigate the complex modern mountain bikers minefield of moving from Hating to Hollering and from Heart rate to watt hours.

First of all, and perhaps most importantly, there is one thing you need to understand and repeat over to yourself in the mirror before every ride:

“You are NOT an eBiker”

Sure, you may have sucked on some battery, but that doesn’t make you a fully blown raving eBiker dinging their bell on bike paths or mounting fenders to your rig. As long as you continue to surround yourself with acoustic bikes, and keep the ratio of robot rides to meat powered in a healthy balance, then you can continue to hold your head high and grasp onto this reality.

Also important – As long as you keep away from bells, sneakers on rides, any form of cargo carrying infrastructure or large frame mounted auxiliary batteries, then you should be ok to reinforce that your interactions with motors is like a cheat treat every now and again. At least that’s what you tell your friends anyway…

Now that we’ve set some ground rules, it’s time to dive into your most plausible excuses to justify your change of heart, or to navigate that awkward moment when your hardcore acoustic bro’s first learn that you now have to park a bike next to a power socket.

#1 – I’m all about the double sesh brah!

This is a classic innovation cock slap to someone’s face to deflect from your own transgressions by making it sound like you’ve discovered something incredible that you can’t believe they’re missing out on by dropping the “double session” on them. To successfully pull it off, you will need to restrict your eBike sinning to the afternoon, the later the better.

When confronted with the glance from another person and that slur leaves their lips of “eBiker huh”, you can comfortably spring the “double sesh brah” trap on them:

Nah man, just hitting a double sesh after a morning/half day on the Enduro bike, thought we’d pump in a few final laps to maximise given the trails are running ALL FUCKING TIME BRAH

Bang – You’ve not only instantly cut off the other persons penis with your credentials, but you’ve now also deposited some heavy “can’t believe you don’t like shredding all day” vibes into their emotional bank account, leaving them to limp away on their Kona questioning their life decisions as they ponder how much they’d love to do some more laps, but they’re tired from their heavy Aluminium pork rig.

The Double Sesh call is both a humble brag and slap in the face, so don’t use it lightly – With great battery power comes even greater responsibility.

#2 – Its part of my Enduro programme Bro

This classic is a variation on the Double Sesh trap, but with more specific Enduro Bro-ness to it. Again, when embarrassingly rumbled out on the trail by people who might ultimately lead to your family finding out you’re a pure eBiker, quickly pivot to this highly functional cover story.

There’s a couple of ways to spin it, but same general theme – You’re only on this motorised monstrosity because it’s part of your Enduro Programme! Yes, you needed more laps in, and you had a massive interval/gym/masterbating session yesterday/tomorrow, so you need to maximise your shred time without draining your battery too much (classy pun intended).

If you really want to push the boat out here and deflect blame entirely, then lead in with “My coach made me…We’re trialling zone training and given how Beast mode is my go to, this is a great way to make sure I stay in Zone 2“, important to give zero fucks that your coach doesn’t actually exist. Morpheus never really existed for Neo and look how well that worked out, so fucking bank it.

#3 – The invisible wounds

This one is a slightly more complex web of lies to manage, but as long as you keep it medically vague, then you should be sweet. Yes, we’ve arrived at the “Injury” alibi when cornered with accusations of being an eBiker.

Keep it brief and try to wince slightly as you say it, usually best to go with “Yeah, just got this nerve damage (contort face and let out low level moan at this moment)… So just trying to keep it really light at the moment, and this fucking thing here helps a bit with that eh

Best to stay the fuck away from any actual medical opinions or references, keep that pandoras box closed should the fucker in front of you fancy themselves as a Web MD. The Rodfather is the Muhammed Ali of this cover story, so if in doubt, just check in with him in the first instance and he will elaborate how fucking terrible it was having to climb 1,100m out the front door with the motor doing all the work for you…

#4 – The Santa Cruz Bullit

And so we arrive at the unsanctioned and self-appointed influencer part of the story… Yes, probably the best reason available right now to rescind your allegiance to being purely meat powered is right here:

If you’re going to sell out, and do so quite publicly after taking an entrenched position, then this is potentially one of the only ways to do it and keep any dignity intact. Ensure you focus on primarily on “It’s a fucken weapon mate, total beast, basically a downhill bike eh” to put that distraction icing on the top of your retraction cake.

If you require some additional convincing, then just remember that the current bike industry pain is your selling out cunt gain – If your inner accountant has been holding you back, there isn’t a better time to buy than currently thanks to the epic industry whip lash in progress as people realise, surprise, that humans were always going to head back to their couches post their Covid midlife crises. You can currently pick up one of these Robot weapons of mass shred for less than their acoustic cousins were hitting the market at in the not too distant past.

Yes, somewhere out there is a divisional CFO with sweaty palms working on a PowerPoint slide to explain why a Transmission XO Reserve Spec Bullit with an EP801 motor is now heading out the door cheaper than an acoustic bike at the same level 18 months prior, all while wondering exactly what a Dutch firing squad looks like.

Admittedly I am still in the shake down phase with my new Bullit, but can safely say this thing is such a piece of art in person that you can easily leverage it’s sheer presence to deflect any attention away from someone attempting to pin you down as being an eBiker. You’ll easily burn a modern mountain bikers ADHD level attention span by talking about how well appointed the build kit is, or how seamless everything is integrated, or the Alamo go to of “Its just like a Nomad, except you can get double the laps in man

Setting aside this acquisition is purely coincidentally timed with the recent on-line marketing campaign, the Bullit is the final nail in my coffin as we come full circle and end at the inevitable conclusion from where this resistance story began.

Before you can type “what’s next cunt, gonna tell us you’re vegan too?!” in the comments, the last 2 years of E-njoyment have been redacted (good luck finding a single Gram post that even hints at my duplicity) and revisionist history will one day outline how I really gave way in 2024, all thanks to finally acquiring a worthy machine, and in the appropriate age bracket, to allow for an introductory foray into this growing segment of our cycling landscape. After all, as the Borg pointed out, resistance is fairly futile at this point, so feel free to let your inner robot do some experimenting, noting the above cover stories are available to you at any time. Good luck and keep Charging…

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