There are five different hand positions on the bike, and trust me when I tell you that I used all of them, especially during the insane Fat Burn workouts. It’s meant to trigger a huge calorie burn with 60 (!!!) eight-second all-out sprints with a 12-second recovery time, for 17 to 25 minutes. It’s really hard and you need an extremely responsive exercise bike to do it! This is when I stopped making fun of the Carol Bike in my head—when the program started warning me to skip some sprints before I keeled over.
Carol Bike notes that REHIT is scientifically backed. Technically, it is. There is one small-scale study with 20 participants at Western Colorado University that shows that, while calorie burn during the ride is lower compared to regular treadmill workouts, the excess post-exercise energy consumption (EPOC) continues throughout the day.
Photograph: Adrienne So
The Carol Bike is not for dilettantes. It is for people who are kind of psychotic about working out and are way too bummed if life circumstances force them to skip a day. With a Carol Bike in my house, it doesn’t matter that I got off work at 4 pm and made plans to meet a friend at 5 pm. I still can run upstairs, throw on some leggings, strap the heart rate monitor on my chest, do a REHIT workout, and run out the door 20 minutes later. There’s even toe cages, so you don’t have to change your shoes into clip-ins and can just hop on in your Vans.
The bike’s exercise program talks you through the workouts, and one mantra that stuck in my mind was the bike reassuring me, “Now you can work out because you want to, and not because you have to.” I found this reminder to be way too helpful. Now I don’t have to worry about getting a run in and getting in my lifting/climbing/hiking with my dogs and kids. I can do both! I can do it all! There’s a minimum level of exertion that I need every day to be a decent human being, and the Carol Bike makes it possible to squeeze it all in.
After a mere two weeks on the Carol, I’m starting to notice that I’m getting stronger. The Amazfit T-Rex 3 that I’m currently testing has noted in my runs that my performance is improving. I smoked my friends on a recent hike with 2,100 feet of elevation gain. (Let them please not read this! However, it’s true and I noticed.) More isn’t always better. Carol Bike, I’ll eat my words. And my texts.
To take up the slack, Trek routed the chain through not one but two idler pulleys. The result looks a little like a three-ring circus near the chain ring, but that added idler pulley allows the derailleur to do what it’s supposed to do, which is keep the bike shifting well.
Love at First Ride
I loved this bike off the bat because it felt nimble and fast and gave me the confidence to sail over a few steep lines that I normally avoid. On trail, I never felt the need to ride beyond level-two power, even on climbs, which added to its acoustic feel. The only place I could have used more of a boost was when riding home straight uphill on city street with a 13 percent grade.
Photograph: Stephanie Pearson
After multiple subsequent tests, I felt the same joy with one caveat: There was a consistent and nagging rattle that sounded like a loose wheel, but I could never isolate the source of the noise, which likely indicates that it was internal and perhaps coming from the battery or a cable rattling in the downtube.
To give the Slash+ a more robust test, I passed it on to Samuel Hayden, a former collegiate gravity rider at Fort Lewis College in Durango, Colorado. After a 20-mile ride in mostly turbo mode on the double blacks of Piedmont (stuff I never ride), Hayden returned with a huge grin and with more than 65 percent battery power left in the tank.
On its weight and handling, Hayden reported that the Slash+ melded substantial power with a surprising lightweight build, noting it had a solid and reassuring connection with the trail and maintained stable flight during jumps.
His only major gripe? The 9.7 lacks a SRAM transmission, which tends to be more reliable for e-MTBs. But that problem is easily solvable, if you have an extra $4,000 on hand, by upgrading to the Slash+ 9.9 XO AXS T-Type.
I just had fun riding a Brompton. Actual, smile-inducing, adrenalin-fuelled fun, on a fold up bicycle. I’ve ridden many Bromptons and find them to be ingeniously portable feats of commuter engineering, but never especially fun. But here I am, careering along muddy forest paths, flying up hills and bouncing over tree roots … on a Brompton.
My grin comes courtesy of the new Brompton Electric G Line, the most radical redesign in the brand’s 50 year history. It’s still unmistakably a Brompton; it still folds to a third of its size, can be carried (just), and pushed around train stations and subways with ease. But instead of the usual asphalt-friendly, weight-saving 16-inch tires, the G Line has 20-inch cushy Schwalbe G-One tan wall tires. For all intents and purposes, it’s a big wheel folding all-terrain gravel bike.
A first-person view of the handlebars on the Brompton Electric G Line.
Photograph: Chris Haslam
The handlebars are wide, like a regular hybrid bike, and there are disc brakes (the first time on a Brompton) and a Shimano 4- or 8-speed gear system. It is available in electric and non-electric models, in Forest Green, Adventure Orange and Traildust White, both with and without rack and mudguards. There’s also a choice of small, medium and large sizes. With the standard Brompton you can choose the style and height of handlebars, and adjust the seat height accordingly, but with the G Line, the ergonomics are tweaked to offer better balance depending on your height. Just. Like. A. Regular. Bike.
Smooth Operator
I’ve been riding the Electric G Line for two weeks, and it just doesn’t handle like a Brompton. The wibble-wobble steering has gone, as has the bone-shaking ride over anything but smooth tarmac. London streets are not forgiving, but the G Line soaks up every bump with ease.
That’s only enhanced further by the 250-watt rear-mounted hub motor (15.5-mph limit), which pushes hard when needed and removes any effort on the flat. According to Brompton, the new motor was put through its paces on a 24/7 durability rig, with more than 20 motors going through a combined mileage of over 1,000,000 kilometers (62,137 miles).
I didn’t quite manage those numbers, but in real-world conditions, the motor kicks in smoothly and helps glide you along with minimal effort. There are three levels of power assistance, each impacting on the bike’s range, but for me, the mid-power option offers all the help I need, and makes for a fun ride—both on and off road.
The redesigned battery pack clips neatly into the front bracket, and offers 345 kWh of power and a range of 20–40 miles (30–60 kilometers). It ejects easily, and takes around four hours to fully charge. There’s also an app, and while it wasn’t ready for my pre-launch test, it will include over-the-air updates, power mode controls, distance tracking and battery life information.
On the Electric G Line, a nine-watt front light and one-watt rear light do a good job illuminating the road or trail ahead. There are mounting points on the elongated front set and forks for water bottle cages and packs, while the rear rack has ample space for more luggage. There’s also a range of luggage options, including generous satchels with battery storage built in. It will be interesting to see if this bike can carry enough for a bike packing or touring weekend.
Heavy Lifting
Until now, Brompton built bikes for cities. It has sold over a million since 1975, and the combination of teeny wheels and peerless folding mechanism makes them unbeatable for final-mile commuting. They also fold up small enough to be taken with you wherever you go. And they need to, because a Brompton chained up in London won’t stay chained up for long.
But the G Line isn’t designed for commuters; it’s built for trails, and while the ride off road is assured, well balanced, comfortable and stupid amounts of fun, the bike is heavier as a result. A small-frame eight-speed non-electric G Line Brompton weighs from 30.6 pounds (13.9 kilograms), which is six-and-a-half pounds (three kilos) heavier than a standard model (24.2 pounds / 11 kilograms). The standard electric model weighs from 36.6 pounds (16.6 kilograms), and the design I’ve been testing clocks in at 42.9 pounds (19.5 kilograms), including the battery.
Photograph: Chris Haslam
Photograph: Chris Haslam
That means carrying it for any length of time has the potential to be hernia-inducing, and makes the Electric G Line a chunk to carry up and down stairs. The way the folded frame is engineered means the weight is at least evenly distributed, but there’s no doubt that it’s heavy. Sensing this, Brompton has redesigned the rolling wheels to include bearings, making it significantly smoother to push (or pull) than a standard Brompton. If you are going to be taking your Electric G Line on public transport, be prepared to mix up carrying and wheeling to save your arms.
That said, for a folding electric bike, the Brompton’s weight is in line with the competition. The £2,899 Volt Lite weighs a little less (39.6 pounds / 18 kilograms with battery), as does the £1,299 ADO Air 20, although ADO does have a sensationally light Carbon model that weighs just 27.5 pounds (12.5 kilograms). None of these bikes fold as elegantly as the Brompton though, nor offer the same big bike ride experience.
A Blast to Ride
While still champions of the folding bike sector then, Brompton is playing catch up with the electric market. And while I’m not faulting the performance, the battery pack design feels something of an afterthought. I look forward to a purpose-built electric Brompton (in Titanium) when it happens though.
On first impression I thought the G Line was unacceptably bigger than a traditional Brompton. The tires are larger and wider, and the frame is chunkier, but when placed side-by-side (see photos below) there’s not really a huge amount in it—which is remarkable. I was worried about having to store the bike at home and take the G Line into an office or pub (see earlier comment about London) and while it is heavier to lift, I don’t think anyone will really notice much of a difference in small doses.
Photograph: Chris Haslam
Photograph: Chris Haslam
It is unquestionably the most capable Brompton ever built, and an absolute blast to ride, especially off-road. I’m keen to ride the lightest non-electric version too, and see if the eight-speed gearing and smaller wheels do enough for a serious gravel ride. I suspect it might, but whether it’s enough to tempt serious trail riders is another thing entirely.
Which brings us on to who precisely is the Brompton G Line for? It’s certainly a premium proposition, with pricing from £2,395 (my test version costs £3,495), but it is a Brompton, so many people won’t flinch at these prices. For comparison, the cheapest standard Brompton costs from £950, the lightest Titanium option costs from £4,250 and the flagship electric version, the P Line, costs from £3,695. So it’s in good company.
I suspect the all-terrain fun will tempt many existing fold-up riders off their tiny 16-inch wheels. There might be a compromise on weight, size and transportability, but the ride and handling is beyond comparison.
For the first time a fold-up bike has been as enjoyable to ride as a full-sized design, while still being able to fold down and fit in the trunk, or under the stairs. It’s a superb upgrade and should bring the brand to the attention of a whole new audience.
When I started reviewing electric cargo bikes years ago, they were expensive, niche vehicles for a specific subset of eccentric people. Today, electric bikes are everywhere. But there’s one demographic for whom an electric bike is especially useful—parents.
Parents, especially moms, travel a lot. I have a full-time remote job and a 7-year-old and a 9-year-old. On any given day, I drop the kids off at school and pedal home to get on the computer. I stop by the store to pick up bananas on the way to drop them off at a playdate or volunteer at an event. Without a motor on my bike, I simply wouldn’t have the muscle power to carry my kids and tote all their stuff. I’d need a car.
An ebike changed everything for me. It turned my endless boring errands into windswept opportunities to simultaneously work out, take my kids on a joyride, and stop and chat with our neighbors. I love my electric cargo bike, probably a little too much. If you’re thinking about taking the plunge, here are a few tips and tricks I’ve learned along the way.
Don’t see anything you need here? Check out our guides to the Best Bike Accessories or How to Layer Clothing.
Updated September 2024: We added new sections on whether an electric bike is right for you and keeping your kids safe. We also updated our gear recommendations and checked links and pricing.
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“Saving the environment!” you thought to yourself. “Getting exercise! Sign me up!” But before you invest in an expensive piece of equipment, I want you to consider: Do you live in a climate where you can expect to spend large amounts of time outside, or is your region frequently plagued with snow, rain, or unsafe heat? Several friends who have bought electric bikes in places like Texas are simply not able to bike children to and from daycare when the temperatures are too high.
Location, Location, Location: You should lock your bike to a secure rack in a high-traffic area, whenever possible. This alone will keep away many opportunistic thieves as it’s just not worth the trouble to attract attention.
Use a bike rack over a more vulnerable anchor point, as it should be properly secured and bolted into concrete. This isn’t always the case—I recently found a rack in my local area with a loose bolt at the base—so keep an eye out.
Lock Types and Positioning: There are many ways to lock your bike securely, some of which will depend on the type of lock you’re using and the bike you’re locking.
For a regular-size U-lock, you’ll usually want to lock the bike around the frame and the back wheel, if space allows. Some methods suggest simply locking the back wheel, but this can leave the rest of your bike vulnerable. You’ll want to keep U-locks away from the ground, especially with concrete or asphalt, to prevent thieves from trying to smash it with a hammer or use leverage devices like a tire jack or iron.
If you’ve got a quick-release wheel, you may want to consider a dual-lock setup like the Kryptonite Evolution Mini-7 With Flex Cable (though this is not a grinder-resistant lock). Alternatively, you could use multiple locks, like a grinder-resistant lock for the frame and back wheel plus a chain or cable lock for the front wheel.
Chain locks can work well for securing both a frame and wheel, though they have their drawbacks. They’re usually quite heavy, especially the thicker ones that can better resist heavy bolt cutters. They’re also generally not nearly as grinder-resistant as our top picks. Again, keeping the chain off the ground will help ward off bolt-cutting thieves.
Security Tags and Trackers: One key trick to tracking your bike is using a Tile or Apple AirTag hidden somewhere along the frame or under your seat so you can keep an eye on its position. Unfortunately, there are some real limitations to this method.
Both AirTags and Tile devices are limited to the range of their Bluetooth antennae. Tile devices come with a maximum 400-foot range for the Tile Pro, while the Tile Mate and Slim offer 250 feet. Apple doesn’t specify its AirTag range, but it’s also limited by Bluetooth, with most testing putting it at around 30 meters or 100 feet.
AirTags and Tiles both offer some tracking features when out of range. AirTags can connect over the Find My Network, using other people’s Apple devices to anonymously track, while Tile devices can similarly track the device’s last known location over Android phones, but this is far from perfect. Neither offers real-time GPS tracking, and both systems require other devices to track.
AirTags support ultra-wideband technology for Precision Finding (supported by iPhone 11 or higher) that can pinpoint the device more accurately than Tile trackers. On the downside, AirTags will chime when moved away from your phone as a safety precaution, which may alert thieves to their presence.
There are also real-time GPS trackers, such as the Invoxia, which charges a yearly subscription fee. These devices are pricier but potentially more effective since they don’t rely on Bluetooth, instead using real-time GPS location tracking. They’re generally larger and tougher to conceal than AirTags or Tiles.
What About Smart Locks? Smart locks are relatively new to the bike-lock scene and have yet to make major waves. Smart locks like the I Lock It Plus (which we have not tested) can offer conveniences like keyless unlocking via your phone and even a smart alarm with up to 110 decibels of shrieking sound. That said, you’ll likely have your keys with you for most rides, and alarms can go off accidentally, which can cause more problems than they solve.
Even the pricier smart locks we’ve seen aren’t grinder-resistant, so you’re trading some security for convenience. As noted above, we recommend making sure any lock you choose is independently rated for security from Sold Secure and/or ART to ensure objective testing for the best protection.
At the dining room table on the morning of my visit, Hance’s fingers spidered across his keyboard. He logs new stolen-bike reports before work in the morning, and at lunch, and again before bed. As he typed, reports of two more stolen bikes landed in his inbox. Both were from California. This didn’t surprise him. “San Francisco,” he said, “is fucking ridiculous right now.”
In the weeks after that tip from Mexico, Hance circulated the curious case of the stolen bikes in Mexico to colleagues, savvy Bay Area bike shop owners, cops. He also reached out to some trusted bike vigilantes who hunt stolens. In recent years a passionate subculture has emerged to fight back against bike crime, using a mix of old-school legwork and open source intelligence, following the publicly available fingerprints that nearly everyone leaves behind online. These amateur detectives often swap information and methods, sometimes with the ultimate aim of recovering the stolen bikes. Call them a crowdsourced Justice League. Bike Index and Hance are major planets in this loose constellation of do-gooders. Hance regularly calls on them.
Almost as soon as Hance saw that Facebook page with all the stolen bikes, it vanished. Before long, though, a volunteer—the guy who’d lost $26,000 in bikes and now wanted to help Hance—called to say he’d found an Instagram account for Constru-Bikes. The account had accepted his request as a follower, thinking he was a customer. “Do you want my password?” the guy asked Hance.
Armed with the volunteer’s login credentials and a beer, Hance lay down in his backyard hammock and opened the Instagram page.
Holy shit.
The Insta page had so many more bikes for sale than the Facebook page did. There were mountain bikes, road bikes, ebikes. There were brands that Hance had never even heard of, though he swam in a world of bikes every day. Fezzari (now called Ari). Breakbrake17. Devinci. Argon 18. All of them handsome, almost all of them $3,000 or $6,000 or even $10,000 when new. “It was the Amazon of stolen bikes,” he recounted to me. Every ad came with a slew of close-up photos and details. Hance took screenshots of everything. The shots would help him match the bikes he saw with owners who’d lost them. The pictures were also evidence, and he wanted to preserve them in case they vanished.
As Hance worked he realized that many bicycles looked familiar. Here, you need to understand something: For people who really know and love bicycles, as Hance does, a mountain bike is never just a mountain bike. It’s a 2016 matte-black Niner Jet 9 RDO. Dual suspension. Carbon frame. 700C Maxxis tires. Shimano XT disc brakes. To a bike geek, such details are like whorls in a thumbprint, marking every bike as unique. Hance possesses nearly a savant’s ability to recall the bicycles he has seen, and details as small as a scratch on a down tube. He lay in the hammock until dinnertime that day, taking screenshots and saving photos and making mental notes to circle back to certain bikes.
Photograph: Cole Wilson
Photograph: Cole Wilson
Soon, he and his fellow hunters began to match ads of bikes for sale on Constru-Bikes’ Insta page with ones stolen from the Bay Area. At times, it was comically easy, thanks to the many, detailed photos. One picture showed a white Gorilla mountain bike, a rare brand from Uganda, with the owner’s name clearly printed on the rear triangle of the bike’s frame. The owner told Hance it was the only bike of its kind in the US and that someone had stolen it in Oakland that same spring. In another ad, for a Bulls Grinder Evo ebike, the serial number was plainly visible in a photo; it was the same as one posted on Bike Index in July 2020. Its owner, a San Francisco tech worker named Ash Ramirez, had paid more than $5,200 for it and had used the bike as his primary means of transportation around the city—where he played on as many as five softball teams. “I went EVERYWHERE on my bike,” Ramirez later wrote me, describing how he loved pedaling through heavy traffic, past the miserable faces of drivers, before the bike was stolen from his Tenderloin apartment building.
Hance enlisted the aid of a San Jose stolen-bikes Facebook group, who helped him confirm still more stolen bikes for sale. The number climbed into the dozens. Hance took each one personally, not just because he was wired that way but because he knew directly—from communication with hundreds of bereft cyclists over the years—that behind each lost bike was a phantom-limb ache. For many cyclists, a bike isn’t just an ingenious concatenation of gears and carefully chosen components. It’s the sum of everything the owner has experienced while in the saddle. A triathlon bike isn’t just a tri bike, he told me, but the bike an ex-soldier pedaled for eight hours every day when he returned from Afghanistan, trying to shake his PTSD.
Most people think I bike with my kids because I like exercise or because I want to combat climate change. Neither is true (or, the entire answer, at any rate). No, it’s just that sitting in pickup or dropoff lines in a car makes me want to yeet myself straight into the path of an oncoming 18-wheeler. Now that my kids are 7 and 9, and old enough to bike with me, it’s also much more fun to watch them hop curbs and swing their legs and shout, “We live in a jungle!” than it is, again, to wait for traffic lights to change.
The WIRED Gear team has many children, and we enlisted many of them to test these kids’ bikes on rides to school, on the trails, or around the park. These are our top picks for every age and size. Don’t see a bike for your kid here? Let us know, as we will continue to test and update these picks. And if you’re looking for a bike for yourself, check out our Best Electric Bikes, Best Cheap Ebikes, and Best Electric Cargo Bikes for Families guides.
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How to Buy a Kids’ Bike
Bikes are expensive. It’s tempting to future-proof your purchase by buying a bike a size or two bigger, for your child to grow into. Do not fall into this trap! Not only is it uncomfortable, it’s unsafe—how would you expect to control a bike that was two sizes too big for you?
To find the correct size, you’ll either have to measure your kid’s height or their minimum inseam length. Children’s bikes are measured by wheel size, so a 12-inch bike refers to a bike with 12-inch wheels, and so forth. When you get the bike, see if your child can stand over the frame with flat feet comfortably on the ground. Make sure your child can get on and off easily and that their hands can reach the brakes and shifters if the bike has them.
When I saw the price tag for the Ramblas, Aventon’s first electric mountain bike, I scratched my head and wondered, “How did they do this?” OK, so $2,699 isn’t exactly cheap. But most top-of-the-line, full-suspension e-MTBs are pushing $15,000. That’s a difference of more than $12,000, which can’t be explained away by the lack of a rear shock.
The company has been around since 2013, the year it started manufacturing fixies in Long Beach, California. In 2015 Aventon’s women’s Factory Team won the Red Hook Crit in Barcelona, a 20-lap race around a 1.2-kilometer course at speeds upwards of 35 km an hour. Despite a devoted fixie following, Aventon pivoted into the commuter ebike space in 2017. Seven years later, the e-MTB Ramblas was born.
Now based in Ontario, California, the company does almost everything in-house, from engineering and development to assembling small parts and manufacturing its own frames. On the Ramblas, Aventon even designed its own mid-drive motor. As a result, the maker can take out the middleman and do higher volume than competitors, which means lower prices to the consumer.
Make or Break It
Aventon works with more than 1,500 bike shops nationwide but also sells direct to consumers, so I had the company ship a demo Ramblas directly to me. My partner built the bike in under an hour, thanks to his mechanic skills and the easy-to-follow instructions accessed by the QR code on the box.
At first glance, I was impressed with the bike’s nicely specced components, which include a Rockshox 35 suspension fork with 130 mm of travel, a Sram NX 12-speed drivetrain, and Sram DB-8 mineral four-piston hydraulic disc brakes. In less technical jargon, that means more brake fluid is distributed across a larger surface area, making it easier to stop. Plus, the Ramblas comes with a dropper seat post and built-in front and rear lights.
As for e-components, the Ramblas uses an Aventon 708-watt-hour, rechargeable lithium-ion battery and the brand-new Aventon-designed A100 mid-drive 36-volt motor with 250 watts of sustained power and 750 watts of peak power that’s customizable via the companion app. I had never ridden an e-MTB that wasn’t powered by Brose, Bosch, or Specialized, so I was curious to see how the A100 would compare.
Photograph: Stephanie Pearson
My first ride in early May was a 25-mile loop of dirt and paved roads interspersed with chunks of singletrack dry enough to ride. My first adventure on a new ebike always triggers battery anxiety, so I stayed almost entirely in Eco mode, the lowest of the Ramblas’ three power modes, which is standard on most e-MTBs.
Even in Eco mode, I was impressed with the smooth, consistent power throughout each pedal stroke. If I kept up my cadence and completed each stroke, Eco mode provided enough steady power to drive up steep, long grades without having to toggle up to Trail or Turbo mode. The tiger in the A100’s tank is likely due to its 100 newton meters (NM) of torque (the higher the torque, the greater the motor’s power and responsiveness), about 20 NM more than most other e-MTB motors.
Heavyweight
At 52 pounds with the medium frame, the Ramblas is not light. At one point on a steep, paved uphill, I turned the bike off to see how well it pedaled under my own power. That didn’t go well, and I had to turn the bike back on long before I crested the hill, quickly realizing that it would be a very big bummer if the bike ran out of battery during a long ride. The positive, however, is that after 25 miles, I still had 70 percent of the charge remaining, which indicates that Aventon’s promise of an 80-mile range is accurate.
A few months back, my friend and fellow bicycle enthusiast Eric prepared for his first 100-mile bike ride. Concerned about how sore he’d be afterward, he wondered what he could do to improve his ride.
As a convert to the Church of Fat Tires, I was excited to share with him an idea I’d learned from other cyclists: Cram on the fattest soft-sided tires that will fit on your bike, then inflate them to a pressure that will seem surprisingly low.
I’ve been a volunteer bike mechanic in Seattle for almost 10 years and have gently modified my own midrange 1988 Peugeot into something modern and capable. Yet nothing prepared me for the impact of fat tires with pliable (aka “supple”) sidewalls and inflating them to a pressure much lower than what I was used to. I remember my amazement riding down a big hill, listening to the different sound my tires made and experiencing the sure and solid feeling the bike suddenly had. It felt grippier, more comfortable, less twitchy, and maybe even faster. In car terms, it was like going from a well-cared-for old Camry to a modern sport truck. It was exhilarating.
“Tires are probably the single most important component on your bike and the only part that touches the ground,” says Russ Roca, who has 175,000 subscribers on his YouTube channel, The Path Less Pedaled, which focuses on enjoyment over speed and typically spotlights bikes that can ride on both gravel and pavement. “A wider tire means more volume and built-in suspension. It makes the bike feel more stable.”
Roca says wider tires are just more fun. “You’re not being jarred to death. You’re not bouncing off of every rock and pothole. They are the most noticeable upgrade you can make to your bike.”
This made sense, and I’d learn that not having my wrists and keister being jarred helped keep them from getting sore on longer rides.
Yet somehow, fat tires still feel like a bit of a secret. Us cyclists put pads in our shorts and buy heavy suspension systems for off-road bikes, but we’re somehow reluctant to experiment with the part of the bike that actually touches the road to help make for a nicer ride. Big, global bicycle brands still seem unsure about embracing the trend, perhaps trying to ensure that you buy a skinnier-tired road ride and wider-tired gravel bike instead of one “all-road” bike that can do both.
“Cycling has a lot of tradition, and sometimes we do things because they’ve always been done that way,” says Roca. “The industry says lighter equals good, which is easy to explain and market, but selling on ride feel and supple tires is more amorphous.”
Plus, wide tires are relatively new to the market. Models with supple sidewalls made with high-thread-count fabric and a coat of rubber thick enough to protect the weave but thin enough to let the tire be plenty flexible have become widely available only in the last decade. Throw a pandemic in there, and an industry that’s long on inventory, and you can understand why adoption has not been widespread.
Hidden in the buyers’ reluctance is the belief that a wider, softer tire is slower than a high-pressure skinny one, that the fatter tire weighs more and has more rolling resistance. But that’s not always the case.
Last year, I hit a, um, milestone birthday and bought myself a fancy new all-road bike from Rivendell Bicycle Works. It accommodates tires north of 40 millimeters wide. (I currently use 38s.) The frame is made of steel, and the bike is not particularly light, but I love how it feels and how it encourages me to ride as much as possible—and fast. A lot of that has to do with the tires.
Toward the end of a summer when I rode a lot, I ended up at a stoplight next to a spandex-clad racer on a skinny-tire bike. When the light turned green he shot off, and I thought: What the hell.
Last week, the Biden administration announced it would levy dramatic new tariffs on electric vehicles, electric vehicle batteries, and battery components imported into the United States from China. The move kicked off another round of global debate on how best to push the transportation industry toward an emissions-free future, and how global automotive manufacturers outside of China should compete with the Asian country’s well-engineered and low-cost car options.
But what is an electric vehicle exactly? China has dominated bicycle manufacturing, too; it was responsible for some 80 percent of US bicycle imports in 2021, according to one report. In cycling circles, the US’s new trade policies have raised questions about how much bicycle companies will have to pay to get Chinese-made bicycles and components into the US, and whether any new costs will get passed on to US customers.
On Wednesday, the Office of the United States Trade Representative—the US agency that creates trade policy—clarified that ebike batteries would be affected by the new policy, too.
In a written statement, Angela Perez, a spokesperson for the USTR, said that ebike batteries imported from China on their own will be subject to new tariffs of 25 percent in 2026, up from 7.5 percent.
But it’s unclear whether imported complete ebikes, as well as other cycling products including children’s bicycles and bicycle trailers, might be affected by new US trade policies. These products have technically been subject to 25 percent tariffs since the Trump administration. But US trade officials have consistently used exclusions to waive tariffs for many of those cycling products. The latest round of exclusions are set to expire at the end of this month.
Perez, the USTR spokesperson, said the future of tariff exclusions related to bicycles would be “addressed in the coming days.”
If the administration does not extend tariff exclusions for some Chinese-made bicycle products, “it will not help adoption” of ebikes, says Matt Moore, the head of policy at the bicycle advocacy group PeopleForBikes. Following the announcement of additional tariffs on Chinese products earlier this month, PeopleForBikes urged its members to contact local representatives and advocate for an extension of the tariff exclusions. The group estimates tariff exclusions have saved the bike industry more than $130 million since 2018. It’s hard to pinpoint how much this has saved bicycle buyers, but in general, Moore says, companies that pay higher “landed costs”—that is, the cost of the product to get from the factory floor to an owner’s home—raise prices to cover their margins.
The tariff tussle comes as the US is in the midst of an extended electric bicycle boom. US sales of ebikes peaked in 2022 at $903 million, up from $240 million in 2019, according to Circana’s Retail Tracking Service. Sales spiked as Americans looked for ways to get active and take advantage of the pandemic era’s empty streets. Ebike sales fell last year, but have ticked up by 4 percent since the start of 2024, according to Circana.
In the US, climate-conscious state and local governments have started to think more seriously about subsidizing electric bicycles in the way they have electric autos. States including Colorado and Hawaii give rebates to income-qualified residents. Ebike rebate programs in Denver and Connecticut were so popular among cyclists that they ran out of funding in days.
A paper published last year by researchers with the University of California, Davis, suggests these sorts of programs might work. It found that people who used local and state rebate programs to buy ebikes reported bicycling more after their purchases. Almost 40 percent of respondents said they replaced at least one weekly car trip with their ebike in the long-term—the kind of shift that could put a noticeable dent in carbon emissions.
