Copied and pasted from a web article.. "
The long slow drone of a pack of electric bicycles (e-bikes) approaches us from behind. They sound like a swarm of bees gathering into formation - ready to strike. As they get closer the volume increases and my nerves jangle with anticipation of their attack.
Struggling slowly uphill in the midday sun I glance around, desperately searching for an escape route. The bike path is narrow. To my left a tight, winding road is hostile with traffic. It runs through yet another wonderfully picturesque town, but I have no time out from ensuring my own survival to appreciate its beauty. Medieval buildings rise up on
my right, built as close to the street as possible and leaving no room to swerve. Ahead, another swarm of e-bikes hurtles toward me down the hill. I try to hold my line, concentrating on the space ahead, hoping the pack behind will overtake before the ever diminishing gap in front of me closes. They begin to overtake - two, three, four ........ six in all. The last of the group cuts in just millimetres from my front wheel and with only seconds to spare before the downhill pack shoots pass. Both disappear into the distance. I am safe for now. I have a few precious moments before another group of e-bikes attack.
We are cycling the paths around Lake Constance (The Bodensee) one of the largest lakes in Europe. Bordered by Germany, Switzerland and Austria it is, or ought to be, a cyclist's delight. The path which circumnavigates the lake passes through quaint Medieval towns, market farms and lush fields. It meanders beside railway lines, across historic bridges, along back roads and sometimes next to busy highways. From time to time it dips down to the shore for scenic views across the water. There are places to picnic, hills to climb, views to appreciate and architecture to marvel at. Sadly there are also e-bikes, hundreds and hundreds of them, in great marauding packs swallowing up the kilometres like locusts in search of food.
Where once Europe's bike paths were the preserve of a hardy and adventurous few, now sexagenarians, septuagenarians and even a few octogenarians charge up their machines, pull on their lycra and hit the pavement. In our early sixties, David and I feel very much in the younger cohort of cyclists. With almost no effort on the part of their riders the bikes sail up hills, roar along flats and become kamikazes on the downhill. They approach from behind like teenage snowboarders, recklessly indifferent to wiping out anyone who stands in their way. Without the slightest decrease in velocity they duck and weave between other cyclists, cars and pedestrians. Worse still they use the size of their groups like battering rams forcing others to make way by sheer weight of numbers.
They never slow down. They don't have brakes - at least none that I can discern. Perhaps they are terrified speeding up again will run down their e-batteries. Nor do they seem equipped with bells or voices. There is never a warning signal, neither the tinkle of a bell or the polite call of 'on your left' as they pass. There is only ever the buzz of electric motors to warn of impending danger.
They arrive at their destinations untroubled by effort or sweat. With no need to stop and catch their breath at the crests of hills, they are strangers to the camaraderie among pedal-powered cyclists who have conquered the kilometres.
In our recent travels around Lake Constance and south-western Germany we found e-bikers everywhere. Priding themselves on their 'green' credentials their impact on everyone around them is enormous. To give some idea of the scale of the problem, in 2017 720,000 e-bikes were sold in Germany alone and the European Cyclists' Federation estimates that by 2030 there will be 62 million electric bicycles in the EU. Cities are overrun by them and towns, villages and previously quiet country paths are blighted by them.
Some e-bikes go as fast as 45 km/h (28 mph). In others the power assist cuts out at 25 km/h (15.5 mph). Some require the rider to pedal, others can be operated purely by throttle. Whatever the type e-bikes are capable of speeds normally associated with cars, yet the caution with which the average motorist approaches blind crests and curves seems almost universally lacking amongst the operators of these mechanical beasts.
The problem is exacerbated by the plethora of e-bike tour companies feeding the demands of an older generation to whom the idea of cycling even short distances was previously out of reach. No longer do cyclists need to start slowly, gaining fitness, and learning balance and other cycling skills before heading out on long treks. Now they jump on an e-bike and go, posing a danger to themselves and anyone else who happens to be in their path. "
The long slow drone of a pack of electric bicycles (e-bikes) approaches us from behind. They sound like a swarm of bees gathering into formation - ready to strike. As they get closer the volume increases and my nerves jangle with anticipation of their attack.
Struggling slowly uphill in the midday sun I glance around, desperately searching for an escape route. The bike path is narrow. To my left a tight, winding road is hostile with traffic. It runs through yet another wonderfully picturesque town, but I have no time out from ensuring my own survival to appreciate its beauty. Medieval buildings rise up on
my right, built as close to the street as possible and leaving no room to swerve. Ahead, another swarm of e-bikes hurtles toward me down the hill. I try to hold my line, concentrating on the space ahead, hoping the pack behind will overtake before the ever diminishing gap in front of me closes. They begin to overtake - two, three, four ........ six in all. The last of the group cuts in just millimetres from my front wheel and with only seconds to spare before the downhill pack shoots pass. Both disappear into the distance. I am safe for now. I have a few precious moments before another group of e-bikes attack.
We are cycling the paths around Lake Constance (The Bodensee) one of the largest lakes in Europe. Bordered by Germany, Switzerland and Austria it is, or ought to be, a cyclist's delight. The path which circumnavigates the lake passes through quaint Medieval towns, market farms and lush fields. It meanders beside railway lines, across historic bridges, along back roads and sometimes next to busy highways. From time to time it dips down to the shore for scenic views across the water. There are places to picnic, hills to climb, views to appreciate and architecture to marvel at. Sadly there are also e-bikes, hundreds and hundreds of them, in great marauding packs swallowing up the kilometres like locusts in search of food.
Where once Europe's bike paths were the preserve of a hardy and adventurous few, now sexagenarians, septuagenarians and even a few octogenarians charge up their machines, pull on their lycra and hit the pavement. In our early sixties, David and I feel very much in the younger cohort of cyclists. With almost no effort on the part of their riders the bikes sail up hills, roar along flats and become kamikazes on the downhill. They approach from behind like teenage snowboarders, recklessly indifferent to wiping out anyone who stands in their way. Without the slightest decrease in velocity they duck and weave between other cyclists, cars and pedestrians. Worse still they use the size of their groups like battering rams forcing others to make way by sheer weight of numbers.
They never slow down. They don't have brakes - at least none that I can discern. Perhaps they are terrified speeding up again will run down their e-batteries. Nor do they seem equipped with bells or voices. There is never a warning signal, neither the tinkle of a bell or the polite call of 'on your left' as they pass. There is only ever the buzz of electric motors to warn of impending danger.
They arrive at their destinations untroubled by effort or sweat. With no need to stop and catch their breath at the crests of hills, they are strangers to the camaraderie among pedal-powered cyclists who have conquered the kilometres.
In our recent travels around Lake Constance and south-western Germany we found e-bikers everywhere. Priding themselves on their 'green' credentials their impact on everyone around them is enormous. To give some idea of the scale of the problem, in 2017 720,000 e-bikes were sold in Germany alone and the European Cyclists' Federation estimates that by 2030 there will be 62 million electric bicycles in the EU. Cities are overrun by them and towns, villages and previously quiet country paths are blighted by them.
Some e-bikes go as fast as 45 km/h (28 mph). In others the power assist cuts out at 25 km/h (15.5 mph). Some require the rider to pedal, others can be operated purely by throttle. Whatever the type e-bikes are capable of speeds normally associated with cars, yet the caution with which the average motorist approaches blind crests and curves seems almost universally lacking amongst the operators of these mechanical beasts.
The problem is exacerbated by the plethora of e-bike tour companies feeding the demands of an older generation to whom the idea of cycling even short distances was previously out of reach. No longer do cyclists need to start slowly, gaining fitness, and learning balance and other cycling skills before heading out on long treks. Now they jump on an e-bike and go, posing a danger to themselves and anyone else who happens to be in their path. "
