The Union Democrat
Seems like we just arrived in Norway, but if Backroads’ trip itinerary is correct we are leaving after only one day.
Yep, after being totally spoiled at the Son Spa, on a fjord in Southern Norway, we are headed to Sweden. But not before the usual sumptuous, all-you-can-scarf breakfast.
An early highlight of today’s ride is Rygge, home to a Norwegian medieval stone church that is 854 years old. And here I am, bitching and moaning about verging on 80.
But, somehow, I can still ride a bike — just not very fast. On the menu today is a jaunt to Fredrikstad, an historic, delightful Norwegian town with stone streets and centuries-old storefronts.
At 43 miles and more than 2,000-feet of climbing, the ride is not easy. But the hills are green and the roads are smooth. My MO is predictable: I am passed by almost everyone in our touring group on the downhills. Then I overtake most, but not all of them on the ups.
My riding companion, Marv Ordway, is way faster on the downhills and can outclimb me when the grades steepen. But there were others in our tour who stay ahead of us seasoned cyclists even on the steepest uphills.
They beat us to the summits, only with an asterisk.
That asterisk is that these fellow riders were on electric bikes. They get freshly charged batteries from Backroads each morning and are off to the races. Yes, if you wondered, e-bikes can kick ass.
Several years ago, while vacationing with friends in Washington, we took a ferry to Victoria, British Columbia, and rented bikes to tour the city. One of my pals, Pete, got an e-bike.
“Don’t sell these short,” he urged a couple of miles into our jaunt. “Give it a try.”
We switched bikes, and when I hit the e-throttle on my borrowed mount, the thing took off. I was amazed, but very wary. “If I ever buy one of these things,” I thought to myself, “it will be the beginning of the end.”
So I haven’t. And, yes, I’ve had my butt kicked by e-bikers more than a few times. Back in 2018, I was passed by one during the Wildflower Century up in Chico. “It’s going to take me two batteries to get through 100 miles,” my fellow rider said without a trace of guilt. “So I’m carrying a spare.”
“Good luck,” I replied, while silently adding, “Ya cheater.”
“Thanks,” he added, then he and his battery ate up the next hill and left me in the dust.
I never saw him again. But here’s the key question: Was that e-jockey really cheating?
Well, the Wildflower Century is a ride, not a race. Medals are not given out, finishers are not listed in order and there are no standings or prizes. So, now that e-bikes are OK, will the door open wider? Could a leather-clad, tatted-up outlaw biker on a growling Harley also enter the Wildflower?
I doubt it, but you get my drift.
Of course, Backroads allows e-bikes and furnishes them for their dozens of bike tours around the globe. And who could blame BR? E-bikes open their tours to many more participants who might not ride without an assist from Reddy Kilowatt.
Reddy who??
OK, the answer betrays my advanced age. This lightning-bolt-limbed cartoon character represented American power providers for decades. Mr. Kilowatt was highly popular during the 1950s, when I was growing up — and when electricity meant TV.
But does Reddy belong on a bike?
OK, I’ll admit it: I am changing my mind. My new answer is a solid maybe: Verging on 80, I’ve done a reality check: Someday — and I hope it is not soon — I too may need an electric motor to continue riding. (For more on this subject, see below for adjoining story.)
Plus, the e-bikers on our Scandinavian tour were delightful folks whose company I enjoyed.
But enough of this e-bitching — and back to Norway and Sweden.
After lunch in Fredrikstad, founded by King Frederik II in 1567, we waited to catch a shuttle across the border. And I tried out a set of medieval stocks in the town square. After one minute locked in, I concluded that I’d rather ride an e-bike than suffer another minute — and insisted on release.
After a 90-minute bus ride, we were in Tanumstrand, Sweden, on the Skagerrak Strait. And we were told to be ready for a boat ride to a seaside restaurant serving up a buffet of fresh, locally caught seafood.
And at this point, the whole e-bike-vs.-real bike argument seemed pretty irrelevant. We were all having a ball!
The dinner cruise? Beautiful, bordering on spectacular? The seafood? Scrumptious. Our rooms? Spacious and comfortable. Our luggage? As it had every night, it waited in our arrival at the foot of the bed.
(Next week, through Sweden, back to Norway and on to the finish line.)
Chris Bateman worked as a reporter, editor and columnist at The Union Democrat for nearly 40 years. Now semi-retired, he still contributes columns on a variety of topics. Some of his past columns, including all previous chapters in his Auto-Biography series, can be found on The Union Democrat’s website at www.uniondemocrat.com. He can be reached at chrisbateman1908@gmail.com.
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