Motorcyclists, especially the “real” ones, are peculiar people. They go out of their way to take detours and ride roads that lead nowhere. They put up with inconveniences they would criticise in any other vehicle. They meet at places they would never have visited without a motorcycle. They cherish rituals outsiders can barely understand, and love motorcycles that make noise and vibrate. And, of course, they don’t ride electric.
For them, noise is music and vibrations are considered character. When things get really shaky, they believe they can feel the soul of their motorcycle. Petrol is perfume for heroes, and engine oil the lubricant for life’s little bumps and jolts. And few things are as satisfying as working on their own machine.
I’ve been riding motorcycles for more than 35 years. Yet noise and exhaust notes have rarely mattered much to me. When carving through twisty country roads, I always wanted to lean hard, but never to be loud – mainly so the Carabinieri wouldn’t hear me coming from miles away. The fact that I nevertheless fitted my Ducati with open carbon exhaust cans was a moment of weakness.
This curious motorcycle esotericism never really applied to me either. If my motorcycles had a soul, I’d be afraid of them. And I’ve already put my thoughts on those so-called emotions of motorcycling into words elsewhere. There’s no denying that some of my dream machines occupied my thoughts for months before I could afford to buy them. Naturally, I was proud not only to admire them in my garage but also to ride them through the mountains – but without any romanticised notions.
After all, I was simply admiring and riding a vehicle.
Friends,
they’re just machines!
Since 2020, I’ve also been riding electric motorcycles. The Zero SR/F impressed me so much during the test ride that I simply had to buy it. I had a very strong feeling that this might be the perfect motorcycle for me. And then something rather strange happened. Almost immediately, I found myself facing fierce opposition from the defenders of the one true way of motorcycling. Admittedly, only on social media, but with considerable hostility.
I was accused of having a vacuum-cleaner fetish. Apparently, I knew nothing about motorcycling and had lost control of my life by purchasing this Thermomix on two wheels. I was also presented with an endless list of reasons why riding an electric motorcycle simply couldn’t work. For example:
- Not enough range
- Charging takes too long
- Too few charging stations
- Excessively high charging rates
- Charging stations in unattractive locations
- And, above all: no emotions
In short, a complete disaster. The fact that this “microwave on wheels” was nothing but electronic scrap and therefore not a proper motorcycle was just the icing on the cake. One of the most frequently repeated arguments was: “I ride electric at the fairground.” Well, sure – that’s where people go to have fun, after all. Anyone getting the point yet?
Of course, some of these objections have a point. Just because I’d like it to be so doesn’t turn my electric bike into a long-distance touring machine. But if my idea of motorcycling were to ride to Lake Garda for a morning coffee and be back at the Stelvio Pass in time for a bratwurst at lunchtime, I’d have a different collection of motorcycles. The same would apply if I had a hundred kilometres of motorway between my garage and the mountains.
Naturally, the purchase prices of some models are a little out of this world. And the futuristic styling of certain electric motorcycles certainly isn’t to everyone’s taste. But let’s be honest: prices for combustion-engined bikes can be pretty ambitious, too, and the beauty of some of today’s adventure bikes is certainly open to debate.
Quite a lot has changed in recent years. In the early days, I had to patiently work my way through the whole charging circus. My dealer supplied me with nothing more than a cumbersome single-phase charging cable, which promptly doubled the charging time. Juggling a dozen different charging cards was an adventure in its own right. These days, however, thanks to the guys at Steckerbiker.de, I carry a sensibly short, lightweight and compact charging cable that allows me to use the bike’s full charging capacity. I activate the energy stations, which seem to spring up like mushrooms, via an app, and the battery in my Zero has been replaced under warranty. The new one takes the bike considerably further.
The industry has changed, too. New brands have emerged, some of them remarkably successful – Stark Future being a case in point. On my rides, I increasingly meet people who are curious and open-minded. On social media, though, things remain much the same: if you want to trigger some drama, just post something positive about electric mobility.
Things get downright comical when I ask a simple question:
Do you know
your riding profile?
Suddenly, eyes begin to open. The adventure rider who covers a grand total of 1,000 kilometres a year. The superbike enthusiast whose knee only touches the ground when washing the motorcycle. And the luxury tourer whose entire world revolves around the road between the ice-cream parlour and the bakery.
I’ve known my own riding profile for a long time. It had ceased to suit my previous motorcycle, the outrageous Super Duke. I mainly ride short distances, rarely in a hurry and usually without any particular destination in mind. I take countless breaks, take lots of photographs and make notes for my stories. Essentially, I wander around on my motorcycle, and that’s exactly what the electric bike is perfect for.
I don’t have to restart its engine two dozen times a day. The Zero simply stays on. With all my stop-and-go riding, that’s genuinely annoying on a combustion-engined bike. I don’t miss clutching and changing gears, either, nor do I miss the sound of the engine or exhaust. I’ve been wearing earplugs for years, so it’s nice and quiet inside my helmet. Even on the Ducati.
There’s another revealing question worth asking: what do you actually remember at the end of a ride? The soulful vibrations? The characterful jolts of botched gear changes? The emotionally overwhelming crackle of an exhaust? Or the landscapes, the smells, the panoramas from the mountain passes and the sweetness of an apple strudel enjoyed along the way?
Exactly.
What are you
afraid of?
Let’s be honest: with the range my Zero offers, I can spend three, or more likely four, hours riding through the Dolomites before I need to think about finding a charging point. Don’t believe me? Then take a look at my fact check. And if I plug in somewhere during a quick comfort break, even if only for as long as it takes to enjoy a cappuccino – and there are plenty of charging points in South Tyrol – I can easily add another hour to my riding time. So I really don’t need to be able to fill up my tank in “two minutes flat” (sic!), as the die-hard combustion-engine crowd likes to insist.
That leaves very little from the list above that actually matters to my own motorcycling life. Which is one reason why I find the sheer vehemence with which “proper motorcycling” is defended – once again, exclusively on social media – so baffling. Could it be that these keyboard heroes simply cannot imagine giving up things they’ve considered indispensable to motorcycling for decades? Could it be that their insistence on combustion-engine folklore is just a convenient way of avoiding the effort of engaging with something new?
Could it be that most of them are nostalgic, and that the very things which make motorcycling more complicated are part of what they are nostalgic about? Warming up the engine and changing the oil, lubricating the chain, stirring through the gearbox and performing the familiar ritual at the petrol station? And could it be that “real” bikers like being in charge of their complex machines and therefore reject an electric motorcycle that makes so many things simpler?
It’s really
quite simple
Nobody has to ride an electric motorcycle. The freedom to ride around on a proper motorcycle, making noise, smelling of petrol and enjoying every last bit of emotion, isn’t going to be restricted today or tomorrow.
But nobody should have a problem with others choosing to do things differently.
Further Reading
- Electric motorcycles – fact check in the Alps
Ralf and I out testing the range and energy consumption of electric motorcycles. - Green Mobility
Interactive map of publicly accessible charging points in South Tyrol - Steckerbiker
Community for electric motorcycle riders and those who would like to become one (in German) - Moppetfoto
Motorcycle photography: Thanks for the header image!
You might also like:
The Strange Fear of the Charging Cable
One year with the Tesla Model 3 Long Range
Verge TS Pro – The Trigger Donut
Electric motorcycles – fact check in the Alps
(My) Emotions when riding a motorcycle
