I took a city e-bike out extreme off-roading. Here’s what happened

I’m very much among those who believe “the correct number of e-bikes to have is N+1”. But I’m also a realist (and one who knows that happy wife equals happy life), and so I recognize that we often have to make due with the bike we have. And it was in that vein that I thought it’d be fun to take a city-focused electric bicycle on an off-road trip to see how it would handle. I wanted to show, or perhaps just prove to myself, that my everyday beater city e-bike could perform where you might think a dedicated electric mountain bike or fat tire e-bike would be a necessity.

And if I’m being completely honest with myself, I wound up in a bit over my head. But all is well that ends well, and here I am the next day, slightly sore, but still able to type it out.

This all started because I wanted to get out of the city on a rainy day and go on a solo day hike somewhere with nicer weather.

So I rode down to the station, hopped a train south, and soon was looking at beautiful blue skies.

I had found a nice day hike that would take me along a wadi out to the Mediterranean Sea. To get there, it’s a 20-minute ride from the train station along a gravel road.

My e-bike of choice for times when I know things are going to get dirty or I’ll be locking it in public for long periods is a six-year-old RadMission.

I’ve treated it like a gravel bike before, and its lack of suspension and relatively narrow tires (for an e-bike) fit that description, so it all seemed fine.

But quickly I realized that plan was out the window. Recent field work and construction near the train station meant that I couldn’t access the gravel road I had seen on maps.

Without any other options, I pulled out the satellite view and found there were some smaller trails that would still get me there via the scenic route. So I headed that direction, tossed my bike over a fence, and was soon on the trails.

Oh, and if you want to feel like you were along for the ride, check out my video below.

The new route I managed to find was actually an upgrade in my opinion, since these trails were a lot prettier than the gravel road straight shot I had planned.

But a few kilometers in, the trails became less and less beaten back. What had been an old dual-track trail quickly somehow became single-track and then slowly morphed into something more like a sandy game trail.

As my tires fought for grip in the sand, I had to put the content creator part of my brain to rest for a bit since I found that each time I stopped for photos or to put up my drone, it was nearly impossible to get going again without sinking into the sand. But as long as I kept my momentum up and didn’t wipe out, I could still just barely stay above the shifting sand and continue rolling.

This was definitely a trail that low-pressure fat tires would have been perfect for, or ideally a fully-fledged dirt bike (this is a rare case where an e-moto is exactly the right tool for the job), but all I had was my trusty city e-bike, so it would have to do the job.

Each time I slid to a stop, I’d say a prayer to just about every deity I could remember from World Cultures class to help me get rolling again. I figured a little pre-emptive gratitude might pay off if I needed to call in a favor from any of them soon – a hunch that would turn out truer than I could have imagined.

Occassionally I’d have to get off and push the bike until a slight downhill section let me get enough speed to stay up. At that point, I would have done anything to just get past all the sand.

And sure enough, someone was watching out for me and finally changed the terrain. But he must have had a cruel sense of humor, because when I reached the wadi I knew I’d have to cross, I found that the same rains that had been soaking my city a half hour north had flooded this basin, resulting in a rushing river that I was not going to be able to cross.

My only hope was to push along the bank until I reached a highway overpass that I could climb up and cross using the shoulder. And that also meant trudging through ankle deep, boot sucking mud that lined the bank of the no-longer-dry riverbed.

Throwing my bike over a fence for the second time in as many hours, I was getting buzzed by semi trucks as I cheated my way across the water via the shoulder of a highway overpass.

Once on the other side of the bridge, I used the bike brakes like a personal belay system to shimmy back down to the ground, the muddy tires miraculously holding on the 45-degree concrete ramp that held back the engineered earth.

My bike and I were so covered in mud that I was practically begging for anything dry. And just my luck, as I continued on, the trails morphed again – back into dry powdery sand.

Once again I was slinging sand as my rear tire fish-tailed all over the place. On any normal day I try to ride my e-bike at Level 1, the lowest pedal-assist level. It gives me around 50 watts of power, which is pretty darn little and basically just takes the edge off, as if you’re always riding with a nice little tailwind. It’s great in the city.

But this isn’t the city, and at that precise moment, I had the throttle pinned and I was pedaling as hard as I could, watching the LCD display on my handlebars sheepishly read “492 W” as if it was apologizing for not being able to give me anything more.

Each time I wiped out in the sand, I’d check the satellite map to make sure I was still more or less heading towards salvation, then hop back in the saddle and try it again.

And once again, momentum was my friend. As long as I could basically keep the bike straight and keep my speed up, my tires may be sliding, but I was at least rolling. And roll, I did. I was only a few kilometers from the trailhead now (what should have been the actual start of my adventure), and the only way forward was through.

My quads burned. My nearly six-year-old battery fought for every electron. But together, somehow, we did it. As the trail head rolled into sight, complete with a little gravel parking lot next to the highway that I probably should have ridden on in the first place, I knew I had finally made it. And so had my city e-bike.

After that ordeal, the short nature hike to the outlook that had been my original destination felt like a cakewalk.

I was glad to have left the bike back at the trailhead though and hump the last bit on foot, as the sandy dunes were hard enough to walk through, let alone try to ride in.

After some beautiful walking through eucalyptus forests that eventually morphed into sandy dunes, and a final rewarding climb, I reached the peak.

Exhausted, I laid down to take a much deserved nap on the cliffs overlooking the sea.

As the afternoon clouds rolled in and I awoke to a slightly greyer sky than I had hoped, I gathered my things, took one more look at the beautiful view, and hiked it back to the trailhead.

I unlocked my e-bike and buckled my helmet, noticing the one other occupant of the little gravel lot was doing much the same, but on a large dirt bike. I rolled past him on my way out, and as guys are often wont to do, we both checked out each other’s ride. I looked to his beefy dirt bike and then down at my city bike, still wearing several kilos of mud, then back up at him. “Same same,” I said. “But different.”

We exchanged a laugh and nod, and then I continued on, straight onto the shoulder of that highway and pointed in the direction of the train station. Hey, it was fun, but I’m not about to do it all again in reverse.

I proved what I came to prove, that sometimes its less about the bike and more about the rider. That you don’t always need the exact, most precise type of bike to find the adventures you’re searching for or to achieve the goals you’ve set for yourself. You can go off-roading on a city bike. You can go for an exercise ride on a cargo bike. You can commute in the bike lane on a fat tire bike.

Ultimately, two wheels and the right attitude can take you farther than you might think.