Accidents will happen

Part of our work escape plan has always involved buying both of us an e-bike.  Back in the day, before the children were born we did a lot of cycle camping and we still have two top end touring bikes, now in need of a total rebuild, slowly rusting in the garage back home. The last time we did any serious cycling was almost thirty years ago. Being realistic there is no way we will get back to the either the weight or fitness of our twentysomething selves. The answer - electric bikes-  which have the advantage of assisting the portly uphill. Well that's the theory, but since neither of us has actually used one this could be an expensive stab in the dark.

Camping Zugpitz rented e-bikes for a very reasonable price. So here was our opportunity to see how our plan might work out in practice. It did not take too long to grasp how to synchronise the boost you got from the electric motor with the seven speed gears to make the the best progress with the least effort. We did experience a couple of problems though.

The e-bike experiment

It took us half of the four hour hire period to work out that Gill's bike had a big frame with seat at minimum height whereas my bike had a small frame with the seat stem set at maximum. That was Ok for me but Gill wobbled along precariously as If perched on a penny farthing. It was only after falling in a heap right in front of a chap innocently walking his miniature terrier that we came up with the solution of swapping bikes. Judging from the traumatised reaction of the small pooch I assume the distressed owner is right now checking the small print of his pet insurance to ascertain if it covers canine psychological support  services.


Another alarming aspect of e-bikes is their capacity to pick up speed going down hill due to the additional weight of the battery, motor and other additional gubbins.  Gill and I know the perils of this of old from our days of riding fast touring bikes fully laden with camping gear, but Laura was unaware of the risk and had to be discouraged from attempting to plummet down the three mile precipitous descent from the campsite to the village of Ehrwald on the valley floor.

Once we had got used to the bikes we had good fun riding from Ehrwald to Lermoos along the bike track well away from the busy main road. We managed time for a quick lunch stop at one of the many restaurants and sat supping our goulash soup happily listening to Freddy belting out Bohemian Rhapsody. This seemed an appropriate accompaniment as at times being in Austria does have a 'Life on Mars' quality. Momentarily you  sense you have woken up unexpectedly in 1974. No more so than in this particular restaurant where the decor in the corridor outside the toilets consisting of twee ceramic wheelbarrows containing garish silk flowers and the paintings on the wall featured a small boy fiddling with his fly and a little girl dressed up in mummy's best frock and high heeled shoes, not to mention the sage green bathroom fittings, all this served to remind you just how eccentric the Seventies were, at least in terms of decor, before we all became thoroughly brainwashed by Ikea.

Ehrwald and the Zugspitz

Nice bike, good hat....

The cycle track between Ehrwald and Lermoos

Now for the tricky bit, the long, steep ascent back to the campsite. Laura demonstrated just what short shrift an electric bike makes of even the steepest hill by zipping home in no time at all. We followed on behind not quite so zipful. I was about to mention to Gill that it seemed surprising that even during the early afternoon 'quiet time' foresters were still working in the woods when I realised what I had taken as the sound of a distant chain saw was in fact my dearest respiring. Add to this her loony toon level of perspiring, I did become worried that an imminent expiring was about to put the kibosh on our carefully made plans for retiring. Happily after a short rest she appeared to get a second wind and pulled away steadily as we slowly laboured up the slope.

Now being male there was no way I was going to accept that Gill was simply fitter than I was so I invented a complicated explanation involving the weight of my snazzy Fossil rucksack which looks really cool and outdoorish when slung laconically over one shoulder waiting to order brunch in The Boston Tea Party, but is utterly impractical in the actual outdoors. My theory was that cycling with this on my back was affecting my centre of balance and it was this rather than any incipient lack of stamina that was impeding my progress. A few minutes fiddling with fitting the rucksack to the top of my rear pannier rack and I had got my breath back without ever having to admit I'd become breathless in the first place.

'You OK?'  Gill enquiried as I wobbled towards her as she waited by the campsite entrance. 'Great,' I assured her, then proceeded to tumble from the bike even more acrobatically than even she had . As the bike slipped from under me it fell sideways, its not inconsiderable weight concentrated at the end of the handlebar grip which bounced on the top of Gill's foot before hitting the ground. 'Ouch!' She said.  'Oops, sorry,' I replied. Gill seemed fine, and joined Laura for a swim when we arrived back at the van while I kept Maisy company and fiddled about with the blog.

By the time we went to eat at the hotel restaurant Gill was limping a little, by half way through our chicken curry and wok style vegetables (not very Tyrollean but yummy) Gill had loosened her sandal and was rummaging through her bag to check on her supply of of paracetamol. By the time we came to pay the bill her foot had swollen to the point where the sandal she had just removed would not fit back on. I provided a human crutch to enable her to hobble back to the van. Fellow diners must have been puzzled as to what could have occurred during the time it took to consume an innocuous chicken curry to reduce an apparently hale and hearty English woman to a condition needing the support of a Zimmer frame simply to exit the dining room.

My attempts at reception to get some first aid - at least a couple of more paracetamol and a 'tubigrip' - produced a an underwhelming response from our friendly frauleins. The best they could come up with was an  Elastoplast. A little concerning for a resort which billed itself as 'activ'. Happily we found some more painkillers stashed in the van and by the next day the swelling and pain in Gill's foot had subsided somewhat.

Our verdict on the e-bikes? Well we both managed to ride up the side of an alpine valley; no way could we have done that on conventional mountain bikes. So yes they would make good companions to the motorhome so long as it is possible to recharge them using the van's limited electrics. A question for 'Motorhome Facts' when I get back home methinks