Motors and mass: ebikes make crashing more expensive

 With ebikes rapidly becoming the vehicle of choice for workers who can't afford a car, these heavier, faster bikes attract riders who still think of them as just bikes: simple, unbounded by many rules, and relatively cheap. The bikes cost more up front, but the purchase price and the price of electricity are the big expenses. This isn't true, especially if you need someone else to work on it for you, but it's a popular perception of bikes in general.

Ebike riders ride them like they ride any bike. Some riders are more vehicular about it than others. Interacting with traffic, some ride at the edge of the lane. Some try to ride on the sidewalk when they can get away with it. Some take the lane and operate like a motorist.

The riders who stay to the right (in the US) expose themselves to the dangers of the Death Slot, stuck against the curb, the ditch, or a line of parked cars. On a pedal bike it's bad enough, but on an ebike the danger is magnified by the mass and speed of the bike.

A rider dragged the carcass of their massive ebike to us last week after a crash that destroyed the front wheel, damaged the fork, and dislodged the left crank arm. The bike has two-wheel drive: hub motors in both wheels. It has fat, 26-inch tires. It's from a company with a strange name written in a nearly undecipherable font.

We heard from the motorist who hit the bike, who described the accident in a way that minimized the motorist's responsibility. We heard from the rider, who described the accident as a pretty typical right hook by the driver. The motorist said that they would pay for repairs "out of the goodness of our hearts, even though the accident wasn't our fault." I didn't say what I was thinking right then, but I did not believe that they were blameless. However, the rider made a serious error at the time: They did not file a formal accident report. The rider and the driver just came to an oral agreement at the scene, when neither of them knew the full extent of the damage and potential costs.

Because so many little companies have jumped into the ebike market, there are dozens of brands with weird names, pumping out superficially similar products with sketchy customer support. Customer support is pretty shabby even from major brands in the bike industry. It's even worse from cheap ebike brands.

That ought to true right out, don't you think?

In addition to the obviously ruined rim, the brake tabs on the fork leg are bent, and so is the brake rotor. The more I looked at the bike, the more things I found. Unfortunately, I can't be sure how much is crash damage and what was simply poor quality control at the cheap ebike factory. For instance, the rear wheel seems to sit closer to the chainstays on the impact side, indicating that the frame got bent as well as the wheel and fork, but I never saw the bike before the crash. The wheel could have been that way to start.

The bike weighs about 80 pounds, so I can't exactly sling it around. With the front wheel smashed like that, I can't wheel it around, either.

As the potential cost of repairs mounted, it fell short of the supposed $900 price of the new bike, but still looked to surpass $400, maybe even $500, with shipping and labor. The driver will likely balk at that amount unless they're either super benevolent or secretly acknowledge that they're at fault. We as a shop don't want to take it on, because we've already gone through a couple of long, expensive slogs this season. Barely breaking even is a bad business model. I feel really bad, because the rider is a worker once again getting screwed by someone else's carelessness, but they did contribute some negligence by riding in the Death Slot. I recall my chess match with an insurance adjuster when I had a serious encounter with a motor vehicle years ago. We negotiated a settlement because I needed money and was willing to barter a little, but I only had the leverage I did because police came and everyone filed a formal report. I had 'em by the insurance, and by the officer's report that the occupants of the car were fundamentally at fault.

As I researched repair options, I also found companies that offer bike insurance, particularly ebike insurance. This rider got a lot of bike for their $900, but this accident may have wiped it all out. They have no safety net. If they can't get the bike fixed for an amount that the motorists will cover, they lost their shot to apply legal leverage because they didn't get a police report to create an official narrative. They're left with a pile of scrap metal that a single human can barely drag around.

So: if you have an ebike, especially if you use it for transportation, insure it. Otherwise, be prepared to lose everything, because drivers will always have the better story. If you ride any kind of bike in traffic, obey the rules as much as possible, so that you have a solid basis if you do get hit. Avoid the Death Slot. I ride to the far right a lot on stretches where I get along better if I let traffic flow past me, but in town I stay out of it. Especially with a powerful ebike, get out there and claim space. Otherwise, crap like this happens.

If you have an insurance company, you have a corporate entity with accountants and lawyers who will be looking for ways to take that money out of your antagonist. Granted, they'll take it out of you as well, if they have to. But at least you have a contract with someone who is supposedly on your side. Your ebike is much more of a vehicle than a pedal bike, even if it costs far less than a top of the line pedal bike. With power comes responsibility and expense.

Analysis of a right hook

Approaching my turn off of Route 16 on my way home one evening last week, a small silver sedan came up gradually on my left. I was pushing along at somewhere in the neighborhood of 25 miles per hour with a bit of help from the airflow of passing vehicles. The silver car drifted up beside me. As it pulled forward a bit more I saw the right turn signal. Sure enough, it got just past me and yanked into the turn onto Elm Street.

Because I was turning at Elm Street I simply turned in tight formation with them. I gave a laconic middle finger just because I was sure they had no idea things would work out so well, but I didn't thrust it up and out and wave it around. It was more of a grumble than a shout. Sometimes people I know do stupid things, and I don't always recognize them in their cars, so I didn't want to go full napalm on whoever this idiot was.

Thinking about it further, I wondered if it might have been a fellow cyclist I know, who knew that I was going to turn there and realized it was really the safest place to pass me for the next quarter mile. Truly, it was. After the turn, Elm Street makes a series of blind bends, so a truly judicious motorist would have to stay back for quite a while. The vast majority of drivers are not so patient.

Even if it wasn't a fellow cyclist making a calculated move, because there was no contact and no disruption to the traffic flow in any way it really was a perfect pass. If I had been proceeding straight in Route 16 I would have had to make a quick yank to the left to evade the corner of the turning car, but I wasn't, so I didn't. No harm, no foul is an overused expression, but it applies here. It reminded me of a basic principle of criterium riding: keep your skin thick and keep it on you. Don't be overly sensitive to the encroachments of others. Learn to require only a small comfort zone. Defend your zone, of course, but don't be a weenie.

Racing experience shaped my approach to commuting by bike. Riding knuckle to knuckle with aggressive young men who all think they're better riders, you develop a certain level of comfort in close quarters and somewhat quicker precise reactions than riders who have not put themselves under the pressure of riding in a competitive group. I did not race long or well, but I trained and raced enough to refine my normal irritability into a more coherent force.

As a young territorial male I had a quick middle finger for any motorist I felt was impinging on my space. It had more to do with principle than a sense of actual danger. I, personally, was indestructible, of course. If I remembered that traffic riding is a criterium I cared less when motor vehicles passed tightly. As long as they pass without contact, we're both fine.

If I sense that a motorist is passing tightly to make some kind of statement it pisses me off, but what can I do? I can control the lane to prevent a pass, but only if I get out there ahead of it. I have had motorists squeeze me because I was closing the lane to them. On the troublesome parts of my normal commuting route, drivers give me as as much -- or more -- room when I ride the white line as when I control the lane. The ones who are going to pass no matter what will drive oncoming traffic into the ditch and blame me anyway if I'm so far out in the lane that they "have to" play chicken with the other motorists to pass me without delay.

I ran the experiment for several seasons. I got right out there and took the lane where it was not technically safe to allow motorists to hammer through. Before and after the experimental period I have ridden to the far right in that section. Traffic has flowed better with me farther right, and the mood of motorists has been considerably better.

Farther in on the route I still take the lane on a straight section with a curb and storm drains to the right. When the traffic is heavy it inhibits pushy passing. When it's light the pushy passers have room to get by even when I'm out in the lane away from the storm drains. I defend my zone where I have to and cede the lane where I can.

Not everyone can ride this way. Older riders, particularly those who have taken up the bicycle late in life, lack the fitness base and saddle time to have the kind of automatic reflexes a rider gains from decades of experience. Even if an older rider was a strong athlete in another sport, such as running, the act of riding demands more than just strength. I know a guy who was on the US cross-country ski team in the 1980s and who is still a formidable competitor in age-group cross-country ski racing, who just can't get used to the traffic going by him when he goes out on a road ride. He built up an errand bike to ride on service calls around town for his business, so maybe he's developing more of a tolerance, but it's coming slowly compared to his extremely high fitness level overall.

Riders who do not have a lifelong fitness base face even more intimidation. Where developing culture and infrastructure support it, cyclists can take a lane or find a path with more social support for their developing interest and ability. Such amenities don't exist here where roads are shaped by equally unforgiving geology and economy. When I get angry at drivers it's more in the persona of one of these more timid riders than on my own behalf. I'm slowing down as I age, so I wonder when I might be driven off, but I also see that many people never start riding because they've already imagined how bad it must be. And I can't say it would improve things to throw a bunch of these wobblers out there in the meat grinder, forcing drivers to accommodate them without offering anything in return. More people could ride bikes than do, but someone is always going to have to drive. The system needs to work for everyone.