Elektryczne pakowanie rowerów: lekcje wyciągnięte przez cztery dni i 250 mil

“Electric bikes are for cheaters” is the refrain sung by cocksure men in lycra, worried their weekend hobbies will be invaded by unfit neophytes on battery-powered gravel, mountain, and road bicycles.

It reminds me of the early net erstwhile AOL users were considered inferior to the online elite who did the hard work of subscribing to a regional ISP. Back then, losing an argument with an aol.com email address was reason adequate to sale your modem. Now, the eventual humiliation is being overtaken by individual in street shoes casually pushing a throttle.

But make no mistake, electrical athletics bikes are becoming increasingly common on trails and roads, just as electrics are slow replacing regular bicycles in cities around the world.

To realize the appeal, I decided to choice just 1 electrical athletics bike — the Specialized Turbo Creo 2 Comp — to test on steep asphalt, rutted trails, loose gravel, mud, sand, and any green mushy stuff that smelled of doom. And to truly test its limits, I loaded the bike down with an absurd 50 pounds (23kg) of gear for a 4 day e-bikepacking trip.

And to test the performance of the e-bike, I was joined by an avid roadie who is presently training to ride over 800 miles (1,300km) from Amsterdam to Venice, Italy. He’s not only 10 years younger than me — he’s besides fitter and carried just half the weight on his acoustic road bike.

What follows is my e-bikepacking experience over nearly 150 miles (400km) and 4,265 feet (1,300m) of elevation change. It covers my evolving charging strategy, favourite gadgets and bike gear tested, and lessons learned from over 600 miles (1,000km) of in-the-saddle testing.

Spoiler: I’m not a convert, but I can appreciate how e-bikes make cycling sports accessible to more people, even bikepacking if you live in the right places.

The Veluwe is simply a sprawling forest strategy in the heart of the Netherlands, rich in woodlands, heath, and wetlands divided by sandy hills cut by glaciers. It’s not a place you’d anticipate to find an extended network of e-bike chargers. Yet, I found them to be so plentiful on my four-day journey that I was able to shed my first scope anxiety.

Each of the 3 campsites I stayed at cost around €10 to €15 (about $11 to $16) per night and offered free e-bike charging. The charging facilities ranged from a luxurious covered garage — crucial for keeping the charging brick dry erstwhile it rains — to a simple extension cord that snaked out of a solar-powered tent.

Wild camping distant from authoritative sites — which isn’t allowed in the Netherlands — would have made the charging logistics more difficult. But it was surely possible: 3 of the 4 cafes I randomly stopped at during the tour offered free public chargers run by companies like Ion and Laad.

The Specialized e-bike I rode (more on that later) takes about 3.5 hours to full charge both the main battery and 1 scope extender utilizing the included 164W (54.6V/3A) charging brick. My days would usually end with about 20 percent (out of 150 percent) of battery power remaining, which would have meant scheduling 3 hours of charging breaks along the way had I been chaotic camping. That’s surely doable if spread over multiple food stops, especially on the long summertime days found in Northern Europe. Nevertheless, charging in 1 go each night at a campsite was more convenient and required little planning.

Frankly, I was amazed by all the charging options I found along my way — but really, I shouldn’t have been. The Dutch are rightly lauded for their bicycling infrastructure. In the last fewer years, e-bikes have outsold regular bikes across the Netherlands, and a fresh survey suggests that electrical bikes are now the majority of bikes ridden. But long before VanMoof helped make e-bikes trendy for young Dutch riders, it was the over-60s you’d see being propelled along bicycle paths. These are the same people who now strap a pair of e-bikes to RVs parked at campsites in the forests. I can only surmise that this distant charging infrastructure emerged in support of boomer demand.

You might not be able to replicate my multiday e-bikepacking experience where you live, but you will eventually, especially in Europe with its shorter distances and fast rate of e-bike adoption. It’ll take a bit longer in the US with its massive scale and dominating car culture.

For this trip, I rode the $6,500 / €6,000 Specialized Turbo Creo 2 Comp drop-bar gravel / road e-bike. My European review bike was capped at a top velocity of 15.5mph (25km/h) and 50Nm of torque from the company’s own 250W / 330W mid-drive motor. Buyers in the US will receive a faster Class-3 e-bike with a top velocity of 28mph.

There are respective reasons why I chose the Creo 2 Comp for my first e-bikepacking adventure. First, it’s lightweight for an e-bike at just 14.47kg (32 pounds) making it almost 5kg (11 pounds) lighter than DJI’s attention-grabbing electrical mountain bike. Impressively, the Creo 2 Comp is just 1.3kg (almost 3 pounds) heavier than my own hardtail MTB.

The Creo 2 Comp besides features multiple attachment points for all the cages and racks needed to haul lots of gear, and a front shock built into the handlebar stem that allows for 20mm of travel. That’s not quite a few dampening compared to mountain bikes, but my hands definitely benefited after respective hours of regular riding over rough gravel, tree roots, and bumpy single track.

Specialized’s two-wheeler besides supports healthy tire volumes, including the chunky 29 x 2.2-inch variety commonly fitted to mountain bikes. My review bike came with the company’s smaller 700 x 42 Pathfinder Pro tubeless tires. They proved to be smooth rollers on pavement and gravel and plenty capable in sections of sand and muck that stopped my friend who rode on thinner tires.

But the main reason I selected the Creo 2 Comp was for its battery expansion. The electrical gravel bike features a main 320Wh battery that can be easy supplemented with $450 160Wh scope extenders. Specialized sent me 2 extenders for a full capacity of 640Wh. The company besides sent me a Y-cable for dual-battery charging.

Unfortunately, that main battery is full integrated into the frame and can’t be removed for charging. Specialized did this to aid keep the weight down. But the Y-cable can only charge the main battery and 1 scope extender simultaneously — not 2 scope extenders — ruining my plan to keep the bike securely by my shelter while the 2 smaller batteries were charging elsewhere. That meant leaving Specialized’s very costly bike and 1 scope extender charging outside in the rain on 3 occasions — twice overnight, and a fewer 100 meters distant — protected only by a lightweight lock and rain fly made from a trash bag. Not ideal.

Another intriguing feature of the Creo 2 Comp is Specialized’s smart battery control. In Smart Control mode, you can enter the distance and duration of your planned travel, and the bike will adjust the pedal assist to guarantee you don’t run out of power. I ended up not utilizing this mode for a fewer reasons. First, Smart Control requires tracking the ride in the Specialized app, and I didn’t want to drain my phone’s battery unnecessarily (the bike doesn’t have a USB charging port for bike computers and phones). The second reason I didn’t usage Smart Control is that I was easy getting about 68 miles (110km) from the interior battery and scope extender combo, even with all that gear and riding in athletics mode — Specialized’s average setting, which nicely balances pedal assistance with battery conservation. Without all the gear, I was getting closer to 93 miles (150km) from the battery plus extender.

And let’s face it: the real reason I chose the Specialized Creo 2 Comp for the journey is that it barely looks like an e-bike. But the motor’s audible whir made it apparent to anyone close that I was getting an electrical assist.

For this tour, I upgraded to the Komoot Premium ($59 / year) service to access its multiday cycling journey planner. My plan started with a premade gravel tour called the Green Divide created by Erwin Sikkens, which I segmented into a customized four-day journey that extended to my home in Amsterdam. Komoot besides helped me add cafes and campsites along the way. I then exported the maps to my old Garmin 530 bike computer.

When booking each campsite, I called ahead to confirm the availability of e-bike charging since I wanted to camp in the more isolated backpacking sections of the campsites, distant from the busy charging poles utilized by all the parked RVs. small did I know that this was a common amenity offered by all campsite I contacted in the area.

Komoot Premium besides displays detailed weather reports along the route. It showed mostly tailwinds for my dates of travel allowing me to plan a quicker-than-average pace, but the rain forecast meant packing additional protection.

I brought along a $270 Spinshift coat from Gorewear to fight back the cold wind and rain. My review coat kept me warm and completely dry and packed down tiny into the jacket’s zip pocket. It fit snuggly with my arms extended on the Creo 2 Comp e-bike, especially erstwhile full stretched into the drop-bar position. But that besides meant that the stiff (thin and lightweight) Gore-Tex fabric bunched up a bit erstwhile just standing around — a tradeoff I’m always happy to make in a cycling jacket. The Spinshift performed far better than my friend’s rain jacket, which rapidly filled with air (slowing him down) and caused him to overheat more frequently. The Gorewear Spinshift coat isn’t cheap, but it’s worth the price.

If you’re in the US, you’ll besides want to check if the trails along your way let for e-bikes, especially if you’re on a fast and powerful Class-3. Europe’s little powerful pedal-assisted e-bikes have less specified restrictions.

The 14.47kg (32 pounds) Creo 2 Comp weighed a staggering 37kg (82 pounds) after loading it up with 1.5L of water and everything I needed for 4 days of camping in the rain and cold. For food, I only needed to pack breakfasts and energy snacks since lunches and dinners would be found at markets and cafes along the way.

Ironically, the heaviest items were all related to keeping the e-bike’s motor running. This included the 2 external scope extenders, the massive charging brick, and the heavy-duty Y charging cable. I besides brought along a CEE-to-Schuko adapter cable just in case I needed to charge the e-bike from 1 of those blue charging poles at campsites (I never did). I besides never utilized the second scope extender battery, but I was happy to have it in reserve.

To support all that weight and volume, I had to fit the Creo 2 Comp with a rack and pannier bags. For this, I chose a carbon-fiber AeroPack rack and organization strategy from Tailfin to review. That 50 liters of waterproof on-bike retention proved to be fantastic, albeit expensive, at nearly €1,000 (almost $1,100).

The AeroPack rack I reviewed attaches to the seat post and to an extended rear axle I had to install on the e-bike — a procedure that took about 30 minutes. Tailfin’s 16L Mini Panniers and the full rear rack that includes an integrated 18L top bag are designed for fast attachment and detachment. That was super helpful since I wanted my gear at my shelter while the bike was charging far away.

I utilized Tailfin’s Packing Cubes to aid keep things organized inside those deep retention bags. Most of my clothes went into the 6L Cube, which fit snugly into the AeroPack top bag. All my cables and tiny electronics went into the 2.5L Cube, and the toiletries and microfiber towel in the 3.5L Cube. Both of those organizers went into the waterproof panniers alongside items like my trusty JetBoil camping stove I’ve had for something like 15 years. All my stored gear stayed completely dry despite 3 days of on-and-off rain.

The remainder of the bags were my own, including 2 feed bags for fast access to snacks, my lock, and a water bottle; a partial frame bag for my tools and first aid kit; and a tiny top-tube bag for a USB battery pack, wallet, and miscellaneous items needed during the ride.

I’ve never carried so much gear on a bikepacking journey before, but I never had a motor to aid carry the load, either. Still, the Tailfin bags remained firmly in place with zero sway, which has never been my experience erstwhile utilizing those elongated saddle bags that frequently go limp after a bit of rough riding and end up dragging on the rear wheel.

Tailfin’s setup is totally worth the price, in my opinion.

The another star of the journey was the $500 Hubba Hubba Bikepack 1-Person Tent MSR sent me to review. It’s tiny and weighs only 2 pounds 1 ounce (0.9kg) but has a long list of very smart features for bikepackers. Notably, it comes in a waterproof handlebar bag / stuff sack with plenty of attachment points for add-ons. It features thick spacers that give area for the bike’s cables and a compartment for shelter poles that are shorter than average to not interfere with steering.

The waterproof and nicely ventilated shelter and rainfly kept me completely dry in lots of rain, even a thunderstorm. The uniform rectangular form made it easy to set up and provided plenty of headroom to sit upright. The Hubba Hubba shelter besides features plenty of interior pockets to store gear and a large vestibule outside the side entry to keep my shoes, helmet, bags, and another bits out of sight and dry while I slept. I besides made good usage of the interior and external clotheslines to dry my gear.

The Hubba Hubba Bikepack shelter is hands down the best lightweight shelter of the dozens I’ve tried over the last 3 decades. It’s clearly been designed by people who spend a ton of time cycling distant from civilization. Still, $500 is very expensive. My friend’s $110 NatureHike Cloud shelter (which I besides own) is only somewhat heavier, and he seemed just as comfortable and dry. You don’t absolutely request the Hubba Hubba for bikepacking — but you’re right to want it.

Rounding out my sleep gear was a very comfortable and warm $200 NeoAir XLite NXT four-season air mattress that Thermarest sent me to test. And despite measuring a thick 3 inches (7.6cm), it packs down tiny and light at 13 ounces (370g). I appreciated the WingLock Valve that let me inflate (and deflate) it rapidly without exhausting myself utilizing the included pump sack and any good ol’ Bernoulli physics.

Thermarest besides sent me a down-filled Vesper 32F/0C Quilt to review; $400 for a way blanket is expensive, but it weighs just 15 ounces (425g) and packs down into an impossibly tiny ball. Despite being lightweight, it was a bit besides warm erstwhile falling asleep in 64 degrees Fahrenheit (18 degrees Celsius), but I was happy to have it erstwhile temps dropped down to 48F (9C) a fewer nights — Thermarest says the quilt’s sweet place is around 41F (5C). It’s silky soft to the contact and stretches around the NeoAir XLite NXT to prevent slippage and drafts.

I slept reasonably well with this setup or at least as well as I do at home. But I just can’t get comfortable with any inflatable pillow I’ve tried. Someday, I’ll find the perfect pillow, but the Trekology Aluft Pro I bought on Amazon isn’t it.

As a nerd, I brought far more gadgets than a typical individual would. That meant bringing respective USB power banks along to keep everything charged over a period of 4 days: 2 10,000mAh (40Wh) batteries and 1 27,000mAh (100Wh) behemoth. That’s far more than I’d usually bring, but again, I had a motor and tons of storage.

Some gadgets I always bring with me on bikepacking trips. These include my iPhone in a QuadLock bike-mount case and my Apple Watch — both set to low-power modes. I besides brought a GoPro with extra batteries that I never even used. My aging but formidable Garmin 530 bike computer provided turn-by-turn navigation. To my delight, it was able to read power, cadence, and velocity data off the Specialized Turbo Creo 2 Comp after I manually added each bike sensor.

I besides had to bring the small SRAM AXS battery charger that came with the bike just in case its wireless electronic shifter died. Something that nearly happened to me earlier during 370 miles (about 600km) of preparation for the trip.

Naturally, I besides brought along plenty of gadgets to review.

I tested a pair of $60 Baseus Eli athletics 1 open-ear Bluetooth headphones to be certain that I could inactive hear everything around me. Most riders like bone-conducting headphones for this purpose, but I’ve never been a fan of the flat sound. With the rain-proof Eli athletics 1, I could slip on just 1 of the 2 over-the-ear slugs for the duration of the ride to hear the navigation. They’re so lightweight and comfortable that I’d forget I was wearing 1 by the end of the day, and it never fell off my ear, even on the roughest trails or erstwhile taking off my helmet and sunglasses. At night, I could pop on the second slug and perceive to music or watch videos with real bass, though anyone close could hear the audio bleed into the quiet even at modest volumes. The case besides kept the headphones charged for the duration of the journey despite dense all-day usage. For the price, they proved to be outstanding, but I should note that Amazon says it’s a frequently returned product.

I besides tested a pair of Milo Communicators. I’ll have a full review coming later, as these request to be tested in a fewer more scenarios. My first impressions are mixed. They were invaluable in uncovering out that my friend had fallen off his bike in a gnarly sand patch a fewer 100 meters behind me, but they frequently failed to clearly deliver insults and warnings erstwhile both of us were riding full out over noisy gravel, wind, grunts, and woo-hooing. We had the Milos mounted on the bikes, and that might have been besides far distant to decently isolate our voices (the company offers respective mounting options). It’s promising tech, so more on this later.

I’ve besides been investigating a HoverAir X1 drone for the past fewer weeks. And honestly, I think I love it. It’s so easy to catch and set aloft without needing any kind of controller. And like they say, the best drone is the drone you have with you, and I wasn’t about to bring a DJI drone on this trip. A full review is coming.

Last but not least is the Flextail tiny Repeller S combination bug repellent and lantern. It kept my shelter mosquito-free and well-lit at night, but I request to test it in a fewer more scenarios, which requires a full review. That 1 is coming later this summertime after I test it in an RV, but so far, so good.

Truthfully, if this hadn’t been a work assignment I would have left most of my electronic devices at home. I love technology’s ability to bend nature to my will, but it can be very distracting from just surviving in the minute and creates quite a few charging stress where no stress should be.

Let’s be clear: the vast majority of people don’t request to spend nearly $10,000 on an electrical bike, top-of-the-line camping gear, and premium bike bags to go bikepacking.

If you’re already moderately fit, then you’d be amazed at what you can do with a bunch of bungee cords strapped to a regular ol’ second-hand mountain or gravel bike — and you’ll never request to worry about uncovering a charger. You can even splurge a small on inexpensive bikepacking gear from brands I’ve used, like Naturehike and Rhinowalk.

But e-bikepacking is most definitely a thing and will become more popular as the charging infrastructure spreads to more wilderness areas around the world. That motor is simply a game changer, allowing for heavier loads to be carried (even trailers with pets and tiny kids), tall mountain passes to be flattened, and for people with lesser abilities to get outside and do more.

Notably, e-bikes can aid recreational riders join their hardcore cycling partners and friends on their long weekend rides. After which, they’ll be regaled with stories full of grit, cadence, and power stats while gobbling back all those spent calories.

My e-bike allowed me to keep up with my younger and fitter riding mate — fundamentally leveling the field. He got his training sessions in, and I got the camaraderie I was seeking. I got a solid workout in myself since European pedal assist cuts out at 15.5mph (25km/h), and we’d regularly be traveling at speeds above 19mph (30km/h) whenever things flattened out.

Despite the immense amount of fun I had on the very capable Specialized Turbo Creo 2 Comp, I won’t be trading in my trusty hardtail mountain bike for an electrified version any time soon. I inactive enjoy the exercise and simplicity of conquering terrain with a pure mechanical assist.

I get the urge for gravel, road, and mountain bikers to dunk on e-bike riders, but let’s not reflexively call them all cheaters. Cheating is an act of dishonesty to unfairly gain an advantage over another, and plenty of people buy electrical athletics bikes after an honest assessment of their own limited abilities. They give people fresh options for enjoying the benefits of being active and upright on 2 wheels, even as they get older. And that’s something we should be celebrating.

But I was definitely cheating, and I will miss listening to my friend’s exclamations anytime he fell behind on long climbs or found his small baby tires stuck in the mud or sand that I had already traversed.

To everyone else: apologies if I knocked you off the Strava section leaderboard — you should effort harder.

All photography by Thomas Ricker / The Verge