It’s you, only faster

SOMETIME ago, when the world stood still and we all became prisoners of a virus that threatened to annihilate humankind, I got into bicycling as a lifeline to sanity.

At the time, now seemingly a distant 2020, the bicycle was the perfect vehicle to go around the draconian coronavirus restrictions that were in place.

Whole families were locked up inside homes. No one was allowed to go out, businesses were ordered close, cars were banned from the roads and you couldn’t even sit on your front porch without being fined a lot of money at the height of the restrictions.

Well, you remember the situation without being reminded.

Compared to the majority of the country, I was fortunate that my job required me to be present at work throughout the pandemic of 2020-2022, so I was somewhat spared the oppressing cabin fever that engulfed the country.

(Or unfortunate, depending on which side of paranoia you were about being exposed to an unseen virus that was present in the very air that you breathed, even as clusters of Covid-19 break out left and right of your office building which incidentally was declared a red zone many times.)

A couple of weeks of privation was enough to convince me to get a bicycle, which through some miracle was one of the few physical activities that were exempted from Covid restrictions.

The problem was, there weren’t any bicycles to buy for love or money, because there was a severe global shortage of these two-wheeled contraptions on account that the whole world had the same bright idea.

So, when I finally got hold of a decent bicycle, it was literally the last one in the shop and I probably paid too much for it.

Now that I have procured my steed, the next obstacle was to actually cycle.

Being late to the sport, I had the power and speed of a longtime couch potato. Even when I encountered other escaped prisoners on the roads — cabin-fevered housewives keeping just enough distance between themselves to avoid being charged with group riding during a pandemic — I was not able to overtake them.

Though I gradually improved when the pandemic restrictions were lifted, heck, I think I even somewhat blended in with the lycra-clad, speed-crazed carbon-fibre crowd, I was still dead last.

I even managed an epic bicycle ride from Kuala Lumpur to Kuala Kangsar, some 300km over three days, with a group of friends. But I was still last.

Some days when I cycled with my aero-clad, gym-fit neighbour up a hill in 35oC weather I would question my sanity on this sport.

“Do you see those farm workers sheltering under the trees? Why don’t we join them for a bit?” I said between gasps.

“This is the last hill, I promise,” said my neighbour, uttering the most common lie cyclists tell each other.

An hour later, I tumbled head over heels when my front wheel hit a rock going downhill in an oil-palm plantation. The force of the fall broke my helmet, and to this day my right pinky won’t straighten.

Thus began my loathing for hills on bicycle rides.

I still love cycling but not the bits where my heart rate goes through the roof trying to keep up with the group up some 7% inclines.

I needed a way to get around this problem and the solution stared me in the face during a visit to a bike shop recently. It was a beautiful sight, and apparently, it helps you up hills without even trying on account that there is a big electric motor strapped to it.

“That’s a Turbo Creo SL, Sir,” the helpful lad behind the counter said as he saw me gawking at the purple beauty.

Is it a bicycle, or is it a scooter? I asked.

“It’s you, only faster,” he said.

Well this kid knows how to sell bikes, I thought to myself, and he proceeded to roll off a sales pitch that, if I am to be honest, was unnecessary. I was sold.

You can ride these bikes with no motorised assistance, or with a little bit of motorised assistance, or if you want to cruise, with full motor assistance. You choose, the world is your oyster.

I was already transported into a world of possibilities.

Imagine being able to ride up alongside one of those whip-pet-thin, spandex-clad cyclists going up Fraser’s Hill and with a touch of a button sail past him, all and sundry without risking a heart attack.

Imagine going up and down the rolling hills of Hulu Langat, taking in all the nature, and still arriving at the waterfall fresh as a daisy.

Yes, purists would say it’s cheating to ride an electric bicycle, but sod to them. I’m in with the “you want to exercise but not put too much effort” millennials.

Pray tell, I said to the lad. What would get one of these into the back of my car?

“It depends, sir. This purple one is RM37,350 but we also have one that’s only RM26,145.”

“Oh,” I said. “Thank you, I actually came in here to buy some chain oil.”