When I stepped outside to put my panniers on the bike, I was greeted by sunshine and an unexpected 75-degree morning. It was a striking contrast to yesterday’s rainy afternoon and the 55-degree walk to dinner. These are the mornings that invite me to hop on the bike and ride into the day ahead.

That’s exactly what I did, heading toward Pittsburgh on the final day of my tour. The autumn landscape was changing; many trees hadn’t reached peak color. Sunlight filtering through the leaves offered a glimpse of the brilliant colors still to come. A little sunshine is all it takes to see things differently.

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Changes in Altitudes, Changes in Attitudes

Jimmy Buffett’s Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes came to mind and became my earworm for the morning. As I pedaled, I found myself thinking about how perspectives and feelings about life can change with a change of scenery. I hadn’t spent five days in the Caribbean, but five days on a bicycle in the Alleghenies had given me something similar.

I enjoyed beautiful autumn days, rode through rain, watched landscapes change, and moved at different paces. The journey reminded me that a bike tour can’t control the weather or make every day perfect. It’s about meeting each day as it comes and finding something worthwhile in the experience.

Unexpected Ending Like the Beginning

As I left West Newton, the sunny start was clouding over. The day’s plan was similar to the one that had been scuttled on the first day: skip the section of trail I don’t particularly enjoy, head to Homestead, and ride into Point State Park to wrap up the tour.

Arriving in Homestead, I had barely pedaled 500 feet when the drizzle turned to rain, getting heavier by the minute. I reconsidered my plan and turned back to wait it out in the car. Within a few minutes, I was soaked. That convinced me to call off the ride and drive home.

It was the right decision. The rain turned into a downpour, making Pittsburgh traffic even more challenging. The stormy weather followed me through the Fort Pitt Tunnel and continued all the way home.

My final day didn’t turn out as planned. I was grateful for the beautiful, sunny morning I enjoyed on the trail. Sometimes, changing course is the right choice. After five days of exploring familiar territory from different perspectives, I came away with plenty to take home, along with wet clothes.

All It Takes Is a Different Direction

What made this tour special was riding the GAP as a round trip rather than my usual one-way route. Turning in Cumberland and heading west revealed the trail from a new perspective. Climbs that challenged me on the way out became rewarding descents on the return. Miles rolled easily beneath my wheels as my attitude changed with the view.

That got me thinking that this isn’t just true of bicycle touring. I often get so accustomed to seeing things from one direction that I forget there might be another way to look at them. A small shift in perspective can make something familiar seem new again.

That’s what keeps me coming back to bicycle touring. It’s not just about the miles or the destinations. It’s about the freedom to explore, discover, and experience places in unexpected ways. Sometimes, a change in direction brings a change in attitude.

From Trail to Traffic

Then came the shift from bicycle to car. After five days of pedaling, I removed the panniers, lifted the bike onto the rack, and headed home. Crawling through Pittsburgh traffic, passing through the Fort Pitt Tunnel, and climbing uphill on I-376 was a world away from the joy of climbing Big Savage Mountain and coasting toward Meyersdale just days earlier.

Everything moved at an unfamiliar speed after days on a bike. I was struck by how quickly I adapted to the pace. On the trail, life was freer and slower, with time to appreciate the journey without rushing to a destination. Behind the wheel, I was in a world where getting home mattered more than the experience of getting there.

The trail had given me time to notice the little things, enjoy the scenery, and let my thoughts wander. The drive home was a reminder of how easily those moments disappear when daily life becomes a race to the next destination.

What I Brought Home

After five days on the bike, I brought home memories of sunny mornings, colorful trees, miles of beautiful trail, and the joy of the outdoors. I carried the rainy days with me, too. They were just as much a part of the journey.

That’s what I appreciate about bicycle touring: I can’t plan every detail or make each day unfold as expected. Challenges arise, and I have to decide how to respond and find my way. Those unexpected moments become the most memorable part of the day.

I thought about how easily daily life carries me from one task to the next, measuring days by what I accomplish while missing the moments in between. A bike tour offers another perspective. The journey matters, and slowing down, even through detours and bad weather, teaches me something.

I set out on this five-day round trip to experience the GAP in autumn and see the trail from new angles. I came away with that and more. The rain passed, the sun returned, and the leaves continued to change. Familiar places looked different, and eventually, it was time to go home.

Change in Attitude, A Reason to Return

That’s the real value of a bike tour: stepping away from routine long enough to see the world differently. A familiar place can reveal something new when approached from another direction. I return home with stories, lessons, and a renewed appreciation of the life waiting there.

Here’s to changing latitudes and attitudes, or, on this tour, altitudes and attitudes. Here’s to seeing familiar places from a new direction, welcoming whatever the day brings, and remembering that life isn’t about how quickly I arrive, but what I notice along the way.

Here’s to bringing those memories home, learning from both the good days and the difficult ones, and making tomorrow a little better.

The Wheel Deal

Today was relatively uneventful, unless you count the changing weather and the rain in the afternoon. It was an enjoyable ride with plenty of time to think and reflect.

Often, the best part of a bike tour is looking back on the miles pedaled, the experiences collected, and the ways they added to my life. Miles matter, but the changes in perspective and attitude may be the greatest takeaway of all.

• Miles: 26 miles from Connellsville to West Newton

• Views: Downhill autumn slow roll with the brightest colors still waiting to make their appearance.

• Unexpected Win of the Day: A beautiful, sunny morning followed by unexpected rain. Weather changed my plans but didn’t diminish the memories or the experience of the week.

• Quote for the Day: The change in altitude brought a change in attitude, reminding me that sometimes it takes is a bike, a trail, and a different perspective to remind me how much I love life on two wheels.

Happy Trails!
Tom on the Trails

It’s All Downhill from Here

Short and sweet, the best way to summarize today’s ride is that it’s all downhill from here.

Looking at the ride’s elevation chart on my Garmin, it was similar to the polls’ approval ratings for the President, Congress, and the Supreme Court. The difference? That downhill slide is celebrated on the bike.

As a matter of fact, it was much easier than I expected. The miles went by pretty quickly. Let’s face it, I was revisiting places I’d been just days before. Combine that with a chilly, overcast morning and a threat of rain. I was focused on making miles rather than making memories.

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New Perspectives

The Levi Deal Mansion in Meyersdale is an outstanding stay. My room was luxurious, and the innkeeper served an amazing breakfast. Two women from Arizona and Colorado invited me to join them at their breakfast table. Our conversation turned to their first experiences as bike tourists. Before long, I suggested their next one had to be the Ohio to Erie Trail.

It’s funny how fast the seasons and weather change on any given day. Just a few days ago, I crossed the Salisbury Viaduct under bright sunshine, casually soaking in the sweeping views of the valley. Today, it was cloudy, overcast, and chilly. I pedaled without stopping for a picture.

Fall colors were definitely at their peak. I saw them from a different perspective. I usually snap a photo from the bike, with the camera pointed ahead. Riding in the opposite direction gave me a fresh view of familiar places. The same scenery, seen from a different angle, reveals something missed the first time around.

I didn’t stop as often as I had during my uphill slog a few days earlier. Today was about keeping the wheels turning.

The Weather Set My Pace

The miles on my Garmin passed quickly, reminding me that riding the GAP from east to west has its advantages. Instead of spending days climbing, you get to enjoy an easier pedal and more time taking in the scenery. That depends on your cycling perspective, your appetite for a challenge and climbs, and what you want to get out of a tour.

With the miles disappearing, I’d reach my B&B in Connellsville well before check-in. I settled into the same pedaling rhythm of my Big Savage Mountain descent. With the e-bike assist set to the lowest setting, I casually pedaled, let gravity do some of the work, and cruised along at about 12 miles per hour.

I stopped for lunch at Ohiopyle. The threatening weather forecast clearly changed the atmosphere of the town. Just a few days earlier, Ohiopyle was bustling with visitors. Now, it was quiet. The GAP, usually filled with people, dogs, bikes, strollers, and all sorts of activity, had very few people on it.

The highlight was a couple walking their eight golden retrievers. The man had five, while his wife managed the other three on leashes. That sight definitely brought a smile to my face! That didn’t last long as I felt the first raindrops.

The sprinkle turned into light rain, a steady shower, and finally a downpour on my last six miles into Connellsville. Soaked, I turned up the power knowing I would arrive well before the B&B check-in time.

Staying warm and getting indoors was more important than stretching the ride time. Up went the assist level, and I rolled into Connellsville almost an hour before check-in.

My innkeeper had a strict no-check-in-before-3 rule. I parked my bike and ventured around the corner to a small local coffee shop. The atmosphere and aroma welcomed me in for the next hour.

The place was full of other cyclists seeking shelter from the weather. A hot skinny vanilla latte and cranberry biscotti hit the spot. I caught up on email, edited today’s photos, and relaxed, hoping to dry off. I made a little progress on that front, but not nearly enough.

Worth Hitting the Brakes

Early in the day, I also stopped to record a video short reflecting on how my life changed after my heart attack and cardiac surgery. My message was simple: it’s never too late to embrace a new life.

At 72, I’m aware that I’m in the autumn of my life. That doesn’t mean I’m done discovering new interests or imagining what comes next. I recorded a similar video a year ago and thought, why not do it again? I found a colorful spot along the trail, set up the shot, and was happy with the results.

My advice? Live life to the fullest. You never know what the next chapter might bring.

After checking into the B&B, I enjoyed a hot shower and hung my clothes to dry out. Dinner was on my mind. I hadn’t had many proper sit-down dinners during this trip, and tonight seemed like a good time to change that.

A few years ago, some friends and I stayed overnight at the Connellsville Bed and Breakfast, where the innkeeper recommended an Irish pub. I remembered it and decided O’Donnell’s Pub would be tonight’s destination.

I’m not usually one to write a Yelp review or dwell on a meal, but O’Donnell’s was terrific. The food and the bartender serving me were wonderful. It was a welcome end to a wet, chilly day. If you find yourself in Connellsville around mealtime, put it on your list.

Memories Riding Home

The rainy day gave me time to polish and publish the post marking the 21st anniversary of my heart attack and cardiac surgery. It also gave me time to reflect on where my writing might take me next.

Writing has become more than a hobby. It brings me joy and purpose in retirement. As I continue growing on Substack and Medium, I’m exploring video as another way to share my thoughts.

I haven’t settled on a platform or style yet, but I’m enjoying the process of experimenting and discovering what feels right. Retirement has given me the freedom to explore new passions. Why stop now?

The Wheel Deal

Today was uneventful, unless you count the dropping temperatures and rain at the end. It was an enjoyable day with plenty of time to think and reflect. I’m glad I had the chance to slow down and let my mind wander. Sometimes, the best part of a bike tour isn’t the scenery or the miles. It’s taking stock of where you’ve been and imagining where you might go next

• Miles: 58 miles from Meyersdale to Connellsville.

• Views: Fall foliage, familiar but from a new perspective, shaping new ideas

• Unexpected Win of the Day: A schedule that gave me time to look back, at the present, and what the future may bring.

• Quote for the Day: Sometimes, the miles give us time to reflect on where we’ve been, appreciate where we are, and imagine where the road ahead might take us.

Happy Trails!
Tom on the Trails

Today marks the 21st anniversary of my triple coronary bypass surgery. Twenty-one years ago, I was a very different person. I was seriously overweight, in poor health, and I wasn’t paying attention to my diet, my health, or my well-being. Then, at 51, I had a heart attack.

Seventeen days in the hospital, including 10 days in the cardiac ICU and a triple bypass later, I was given something I didn’t understand at the time: the gift of a new life.

That heart attack was a wake-up call. It didn’t magically change me overnight. Change took time. Three years later, I had bariatric surgery and lost one hundred pounds. I was well on my way to reclaim my health and my life.

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Rediscovering the Bicycle

As a kid, I discovered the world around me from the seat of my bicycle. My Huffy carried me to places that would have frightened my mother, if only she had known. Looking back, those childhood explorations marked the beginning of a life questioning boundaries and searching for what lay beyond the familiar. On the bicycle, I discovered life.

Fast forward to 2005, I had no idea that a bicycle would make a return appearance in my life. Once again, it was to be the path to discovering life. Four years after cardiac surgery, I pulled down my dusty, unused Sears Roebuck mountain bike from the garage ceiling and headed for a ride on the Ohio and Erie Canal Towpath Trail.

I returned to the trail and other trails several times a week. Cycling became a habit. Each ride made me want to ride more and go farther. That curiosity and an invitation from a cycling friend led me to a weeklong bicycle tour in 2011. As the days and miles passed under my tires, I found something I wanted to be part of my life.

Cycling the Great Allegheny Passage and C&O Canal Trail, I had no idea where cycling would take me in the years to come. Perhaps that is one of life’s great lessons: we don’t know where the road, or in this case, the trail, will lead. We can only choose the direction we want to go.

Life is Unpredictable

Some things happen to us that we never planned for and certainly never expected. At times, we’re forced to stop. Other times, we have to change direction. Often, the road we thought we were traveling disappears.

I’ve learned through life that taking a detour isn’t the same as being lost. For me, the important thing has been to keep moving forward when detoured, faced with the uncertain and unknown.

Bicycles opened doors throughout my life I never knew existed. It led me to new places, experiences, and, most importantly, people. In 2010, I helped start a bicycle meetup group that grew into a community that shared my enthusiasm for staying active, exploring the outdoors, and riding trails.

Community matters. When you surround yourself with people who encourage the person you are becoming, it becomes easier to keep becoming that person.

One Change Leads to Another

My passion for cycling eventually led me into leadership. I never imagined that one day I would write about trails, cycling, and the new life I discovered through both. Certainly, nowhere in life’s plan did I see myself becoming president of the Ohio to Erie Trail.

Yet here I am. Perhaps part of my purpose is not only to keep discovering what’s possible in my own life, but to help others discover new lives, new purposes, and new possibilities.

I never imagined that at 72, I’d be riding the Great Allegheny Passage, thinking about how much has changed in the 21 years since my heart attack, and looking forward to another day on my bicycle.

I never imagined riding hundreds of miles through the Alleghenies of Pennsylvania and Maryland. It was never part of the plan. That’s the point. Life is unpredictable and surprising, shaped more by the present and not by the past.

Life Rarely Goes as Planned

Sitting here surrounded by autumn’s beauty, I look back on the person I left behind in 2005 and who I have become. At 72, I know I have fewer years ahead than I did at 51.

I also understand what I did not then: life is not about knowing how many miles remain but making each one count. I don’t know where I will be 21 years from now, or whether I will be here. None of us does.

I do know that I want to keep moving forward. There will be detours, times when I feel lost, and moments when I have to choose a new direction. But I’ll keep pedaling forward, wherever the road takes me.

On this anniversary, I am strangely grateful for those 17 days in the hospital in 2005. I would not wish the experience on anyone. But it was the wake-up call that changed how I saw life and set in motion the choices that led me here.

Those seventeen painful days brought me here, to a bicycle, a trail, and a life still moving forward.

Reclaiming life is not about returning to who you were before things went wrong. It is about accepting what happened, challenging yourself to change what you can, and discovering where a new road may lead.

Never Too Late to Change Direction

It's never too late to find a new passion, embrace the unknown, and set off on a new adventure. Sometimes, the road you never planned to take leads to the life you were meant to live.

Today, 21 years after my heart attack and triple bypass, I am 130 pounds lighter, healthier, happier, and seeing life differently. I will do what I have learned to do: get back on the bike and keep moving forward.

Happy trails!
Tom on the Trails

A Note from Tom

I share these reflections because I believe life is worth living, even when it takes an unexpected turn. Sometimes reclaiming our lives means making a change, finding a new direction, and simply getting back on the bicycle.

If you are in a difficult place right now, I hope my story reminds you that your next chapter may still be waiting to be written.

Frostburg is a slice of Americana, a centuries-old college town on the National Road, with a nostalgic downtown perched on a steep incline. Many GAP riders pass it by because of its location at the top of a mountain. The switchback from the trail takes you only halfway up, leaving a steep climb to downtown. But the visit is well worth the effort, and an e-bike makes it easy. I thoroughly enjoy this little town and recommend staying here.

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The Long Way Round Route

After breakfast at the Princess Diner, I set out on what might qualify as one of the more unusual rides on the GAP. I headed 16 miles down the mountain to Cumberland, turned and pedaled back up 33 miles to Meyersdale. It sounds convoluted, but it fits my approach to these round-trip tours. I aim for 50 miles a day, which makes for a six-day GAP tour, staying in a different town each night.

Any uncertainty about my long way around route disappeared as I coasted 16 miles downhill with no power assistance. I love the feeling of speed on a descent. There’s a thrill in flying down a hill, combining a little challenge with the satisfaction of a good run.

Today, I let the bike set the pace and took things easy. I enjoyed the free ride into Cumberland, averaging about 12 miles per hour. I highly recommend it. I saw just as much as I usually do when slogging up the mountain, but from a different perspective. The early morning fog lifted, and the sun rose. Slowing down is the best way to see more, actually in most of life.

Time to Kill, and I Slayed It

Pedaling the last mile into Cumberland, I had coffee on my mind. Nothing beats a morning of touring more than a hot latte at a local coffee shop. Cumberland’s downtown revitalization project, which had been underway for years, was finally complete. My mission was to venture down Baltimore Street in search of coffee.

What an amazing transformation! Any city hoping to reimagine its Main Street should take a look. The streetscape featured one-way traffic in a single lane, occasional parking on one side, decorative islands, and bike-friendly infrastructure. And there it was, Café Mark, with tables out front.

The most remarkable part was the contrast from previous visits, when downtown Cumberland felt empty and abandoned. This morning, it was alive. The coffee shop was thriving, several new businesses had appeared, and a hotel in a restored historic building. It’s always welcome to see a downtown finding new life.

With coffee in my system and a fully charged battery, I started the climb back up the Big Savage. Since I hadn’t used any battery on the way down, I decided to experiment with how far I could stretch it. For almost the entire climb, I kept the bike in its lowest economy mode. When I reached Frostburg 16 miles later, I still had 80% battery remaining.

Knowing I had only another 16 miles to Meyersdale, I switched to tour mode for the final stretch. The extra assistance made the end of the ride more enjoyable. I arrived with about 50% battery left. My fear of running out of power on that mountain had finally been put to rest.

I checked into the B&B just before 3 p.m., showered, walked to dinner, and settled in for a wonderful evening.

Worth Hitting the Brakes

I’m a big fan of small-town diners on my tours. When I stay in a hotel that offers a free hotel breakfast, I skip it in favor of a local diner or coffee shop. Sometimes I’ll ride an hour out to break up the day. In Frostburg, there’s the wonderful Princess Restaurant, another true slice of Americana.

A group of regulars sat beside me at the counter, hashing out the details of life: politics, small-town gossip, and, on this particular morning, how the last member of their group had finally been put on a CPAP machine. There they were, solving the world’s problems over breakfast.

The Princess has quintessential small-town diner vibes with reasonable prices, excellent food, and generous portions. True to form, I left about half my meal behind, but I was satisfied with the food, conversation, and experience.

A few years ago, an Amish family settled and set up a farm market beside the trail past Big Savage. Yesterday, on my way down to Frostburg, I knew it would be a mandatory stop on the return. They have an amazing selection of homemade jams and jellies.

I pulled off the trail and picked out three flavors for just $3.50 per half-pint, along with a six-pack of homemade chocolate chip cookies for $3.00. Shopping on the return trip meant I didn’t haul the extra weight up the mountain. That’s my kind of planning, with a sweet reward at the end.

Memories Riding Home

I try not to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations, but sometimes it happens. At the Frostburg trailhead, a cyclist was on her phone, complaining about her tour partners. Her words sounded all too familiar. She was touring with people she regularly rode with, but their GAP and C&O adventure was unraveling.

If you’re a seasoned bicycle tourist, you probably know the story. Someone you enjoy riding with on day rides may not be the right companion for seven straight days. She was unhappy with the group’s pace and overall dynamics.

I resisted the temptation to be the old guy offering unsolicited advice, hopped back on my bike, and headed up the mountain.

Her dilemma was one of the reasons I began embracing solo touring more. It’s an amazing way to travel, offering plenty of time for reflection and complete freedom. It’s never lonely. When you’re a person traveling alone on a bike, people are much more willing to strike up a conversation.

I haven’t given up group touring, but I’m selective. There are things I look for in a tour partner. Do we share the same cycling philosophy? Do they see fellow riders as partners rather than competitors? Above all, are they willing to go with the flow instead of letting minor problems ruin the day?

A good group tour is about more than the miles. It’s also about the people you share them with.

The Wheel Deal

This was a fascinating touring day doing the unusual: riding both down and back up the mountain when most people choose to move forward to their destination. I discovered a revitalized downtown, enjoyed small-town hospitality, stocked up on Amish treats, and learned a thing or two about managing my e-bike battery.

Life was good today. And the best part? My remaining two days are pretty much downhill

• Miles: 49 miles from Frostburg to Meyersdale via Cumberland.

• Views: 2,000 feet of climbing and descending over Big Savage Mountain, with spectacular scenery in both directions, letting the surroundings set the pace instead of an app.

• Unexpected Win of the Day: Learning how much I can still rely on my own legs while keeping the freedom to call on a little motor motivation when needed.

• Quote for the Day: Making what seems like a strange choice can lead to unexpected adventure, a reminder that the unusual paths lead to a happy, memorable ending.

Happy Trails!

Tom on the Trails

I woke to heavy fog hanging over the river as I headed to breakfast in Confluence. By the time I returned to the Airbnb, loaded my bags onto the bike, and hit the path, the mist was lifting into a crisp, cloudless autumn morning. It was shaping up to be an ideal day for a ride, provided my legs were ready for the elevation. By the time I rolled into Frostburg, I had pedaled 47 miles and climbed over 1,600 feet.

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More than hills on my mind

First in my mind today, my Calendar reminded me that today marked the 21st anniversary of my heart attack, a milestone that stayed with me through every pedal stroke. During my 17-day hospital stay that included 10 days in the cardiac ICU and two additional surgeries, I could never have imagined that two decades later I would be spending a week cycling solo across the Allegheny Mountains.

When you’re climbing a mountain on a loaded e-bike carrying about 40 pounds of gear, you have plenty of time to think. Even with electric assistance, keeping the bike in its lowest assist setting meant I still felt the genuine effort of the climb. It gave me space to take stock of where I’ve been.

I certainly wouldn’t wish a heart attack on anyone, but that crisis forced me to confront my health and completely alter my path. In those early recovery days, I sometimes wondered if I’d even be alive the following year.

Instead, the bicycle changed my life. Before cycling, I wasn’t an outdoors person, and the idea of embarking on multi-day solo tours would have felt entirely outside my comfort zone. One ride led to another, opening a door to a different way of living. At 72, I may not be as fast as I once was, but I’m certainly not done growing, changing, or exploring.

The great direction debate

The second thing on my mind was the climb itself. Having ridden the miles of the GAP and C&O Canal Trail all the way from Washington, D.C. to Pittsburgh seven or eight times, I have a firm opinion on the eternal touring debate: which direction to ride the GAP and C&O.

While the C&O is a flat, 185-mile river-level towpath, the GAP is an entirely different animal: a rail trail. Coming from the east, the trail climbs steadily for roughly 20 miles toward the summit of Big Savage Mountain, after which the general trend is a long downhill to Pittsburgh. That makes me firmly an east-to-west rider.

This trip, however, is a round-trip GAP-only tour designed to keep me in a different town each night. Today I cycled through the Big Savage Tunnel and tackled about 4 miles downhill to Frostburg for the night. Tomorrow I’ll leave Frostburg, head down Big Savage to Cumberland, and turn west toward Pittsburgh. I’ll tackle that 20-mile climb in the morning. Sometimes the best adventures begin when you purposefully choose the route that makes you work a little harder. Well, we’ll see.

Worth hitting the brakes

As the morning fog burned off, bright sunshine broke through a canopy of yellow, orange, and red leaves. These shady miles climbing along the Casselman River are the most scenic sections of the trail. Traveling solo means I never have to worry about keeping a companion waiting. I stopped often to take photos as crisp autumn leaves drifted down around me.

Beyond the foliage, the trail’s railroad history provides its own stunning backdrops. The dark iron of the bridges crossing the river and the long, expansive Salisbury Viaduct, ringed with wind turbines, provide a striking contrast to the surrounding passage and valley. Emerging from the eastern portal of the Big Savage Tunnel, I paused at the overlook to take in the valley below.

Memories riding home with me

Riding back through these familiar milestones brings a deep sense of nostalgia. The GAP was my very first bicycle tour back in 2011, taken six years after my heart attack. Returning here connects the person I was then with the person I’ve become. It was the perfect day on the bike, in more ways than one.

Nothing in life is guaranteed, particularly as we get older, but staying curious and continuing to explore gives life a richness that numbers can’t measure. I’m still heading in a good direction. I’m certainly not done riding.

The wheel deal

With crisp autumn air and plenty of reflection, I pedaled and climbed. Brilliant fall foliage and historic railroad bridges made for a beautiful day on the trail. I reflected on how dramatically my life has changed, how cycling opened doors I never imagined, and how grateful I am to be exploring at 72.

• Miles: 48 miles from Confluence to Frostburg

• Views: Autumn colors made the 1,600 feet of climbing worth much more than the effort.

• Unexpected Win of the Day: A step back in time that connected with the place and time I am today.

• Quote of the Day: Sometimes the greatest measure of how far we’ve come is not the distance behind us, but the curiosity that keeps us moving forward.

Happy Trails!
Tom on the Trails

This was to be the second day of my Great Allegheny Passage (GAP) October tour, but heavy rain ruined day 1. A trail closure near Kennywood, costly shuttle, less-than-thrilling scenery, and poor weather conspired against my original route. I planned to drive to Homestead, cycle to the Point in Pittsburgh and back, and then drive to West Newton to ride out to Boston and back.

When the downpour driven by a hurricane hit, I waited it out until about 1:00 p.m., decided it wasn’t worth the misery, and headed straight to West Newton to call it a day. I skipped the ride from West Newton to Boston entirely, enjoyed a relaxing evening, and woke up ready for a fresh start.

Looking at the bigger picture, I usually enjoy biking both the Great Allegheny Passage and the C&O Canal Towpath in mid-October. I generally start in Washington, D.C., and end up in Pittsburgh. It’s my tradition. I think I’ve racked up about eight of these 334-mile tours.

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People sometimes ask why the president of the Ohio to Erie Trail rides the GAP every year. Part of it is nostalgia. This was my very first tour back in 2011. Mostly, it’s because the GAP is unmatched. Where else can you start in the nation’s capital, ride through a river wilderness on a historic towpath, climb into the Alleghenies, and descend into Pittsburgh’s industrial heartland on a continuous trail?

Do-it Your Way Philosophy

This year, I adopted a “do it your way” philosophy. On my previous tours, my goal was to go end-to-end and cycle every single mile. But as I get older and perhaps a bit wiser in the face of severe weather, I’ve learned to alter the plan. Skipping day one was the right thing to do.

One wonderful thing about bicycle touring is that there are no laws, no rules, and no one telling you you’re doing it wrong. Tours come in all shapes, sizes, and flavors. When you get on a bike to explore, you create something uniquely your own. That’s why I permitted myself to take a rain-check day. That is what touring is about for me: pleasure and enjoying the day on the bike.

Bicyclist or Tourist First?

I’ve shared this analogy before. It comes from a bicycle touring book I read years ago.

A seasoned bicycle tourist encountered a younger rider who insisted that cycling every single mile, no matter how difficult or miserable, was what makes a tour a success. The older tourist paused and said, “I see you’re a bicyclist who happens to be a tourist.

Puzzled, the younger rider asked what he meant. The veteran tourist broke it down: a bicyclist who tours focuses on speed, mileage, and physical challenges. A tourist who happens to cycle focuses on everything else—the sights, the local food, the small towns, and the people. The bike is just the vehicle for the adventure.

Simplistic. That analogy stuck with me, and without hesitation, I own being the tourist who happens to cycle. A tour for me is all about what happens between the start and the finish: the small towns, local diners, quiet time watching the world go by on the trail, and talks with locals and fellow travelers.

Worth Hitting the Brakes

Without a doubt, the highlight of my day was leaving Connellsville, climbing up through Ohiopyle State Park, and ultimately ending up in Confluence. Coming from the west, the climb seems to go on forever, but climbs like that give you time to soak in your surroundings.

What surroundings they were! Today was magical because the heavy rains left the hidden waterfalls and streams cascading noisily to the river below, blending with the rush of the river, surrounded by trees turning brilliant shades of fall color. I’ll return through this area in a few days. It will be fascinating to see the progress of the season’s change.

Today was all about immersion in nature: the crisp crunch of leaves under the tires, the sound of water, the occasional squirrel darting across the trail, and the rhythm of the climb. Your head is always pointed forward, taking in the rising scenery and the countless bends in the trail, each one bringing a fresh surprise and a brand-new view.

Memories Coming Home with Me

My morning started at the West Newton GAP Visitor Center, where a volunteer arrived early to welcome travelers. He spotted me. We’d talked the day before when I was arranging long-term parking for my car. Today, we had a wonderful discussion about the trail, trail visitors, and the complete unpredictability of the weather. I started the day with a smile and a good memory.

As the day progressed, I crossed paths with trail volunteers mowing grass, clearing storm debris, and keeping the corridor in top shape. Trails become popular for many reasons, but none of that happens without diligent maintenance that keeps them safe and welcoming. Every volunteer plays a small part, but together, those efforts create a lasting impact.

Later in the day, preparing to leave Ohiopyle, an elderly woman on an e-trike, accompanied by an elderly man on an e-bike, was catching up with eight or ten others of many ages. A conversation revealed they were a family cycling the trail for a day of exploration and adventure. They asked me to take their photo in front of the Ohiopyle depot.

This is why I work on trails. They create places where families and friends across generations come together, share an adventure, and experience life. That encounter stayed with me as I pedaled toward my Airbnb in Confluence, reinforcing everything I believe about the value of trails.

The wheel deal

Today offered a different experience from past tours, yet it felt familiar. I revisited places with fresh eyes, celebrated that trails make a difference in lives, and learned that a rainy day doesn’t ruin an adventure. It just gives you a fresh outlook on the journey

• Miles: 54 miles from West Newton to Confluence

• Views: Autumn color is unfolding, brightened by the rain

• Unexpected Win of the Day: No breakfast and limited lunch options as small towns close on Mondays. However, I discovered mulitas at Sobremesa, a family-run Mexican restaurant, at lunch in Connellsville.

Happy Trails!

Tom on the Trails

I don’t typically use Tom on the Trails to promote events. Every once in a while, one comes along that fits so well with what I love about the Ohio to Erie Trail that it deserves an exception.

If you’re looking for a reason to get out and enjoy autumn on the Ohio to Erie Trail, this might be it. Knox County has some of the most beautiful sections of the Ohio to Erie Trail, and this weekend looks like a perfect time to experience them. Cool temperatures, scenic trails, and casual cycling for people of all ages and abilities make for a pretty good combination.

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Biketoberfest on the Trail

Saturday’s routes include the Jim Buchwald Memorial Route on the Kokosing Gap Trail. There’s an extra reason to ride it this year: the Kokosing Gap has recently completed a full repaving, providing cyclists with a wonderfully smooth ride through Gambier and Danville and on toward the Bridge of Dreams. Along the way, there are plenty of great places to stop, explore, and take in the scenery.

Sunday takes riders onto the Heart of Ohio Trail, through Centerburg, the midpoint of the Ohio to Erie Trail, and beyond. It’s another beautiful route that showcases the Ohio landscape and the trail communities along the way.

Biketoberfest isn’t just Cycling

Saturday begins with Little Jack’s Pancakes before the ride, followed by admission to the Kegs & Corks Craft Beer & Wine Festival. This year, Kegs & Corks is being held for the first time at Ariel-Foundation Park, one of the Ohio to Erie Trail’s favorite places in Mount Vernon. The park transformed the former Pittsburgh Plate Glass factory site into a remarkable combination of industrial history, green space, trails, and natural beauty.

On Sunday, riders can wrap up the weekend at the Junction Moto Show & Food Truck Festival, with a $15 food voucher included with KCBO registration.

So, if I’ve convinced you, head over to the Knox County Biketoberfest registration and join me for a weekend of cycling, fall scenery, great events, and camaraderie in Knox County.

Sometimes the best way to celebrate autumn is to get on your bike and see where the trail takes you.

Over the past two weeks, I’ve had the chance to see Ohio through the eyes of people experiencing it for the first time.

First, I spent seven days cycling the Ohio to Erie Trail with a group of 16 fellow cyclists. A few days later, I joined a group of outdoor influencers for two days on the trail as part of a Rails-to-Trails Conservancy Great American Rail Trail influencer tour.

The groups and the rides were very different, but from behind the handlebars I noticed the same thread running through both.

Many had never visited Ohio. Others had been here but had never experienced the state from its trails. They came from the West, the South and the Northeast, and some from Ohio itself. Each brought personal experiences, regional perspectives and ideas about what Ohio would be like.

They climbed onto their bikes and started pedaling. In conversations on and off the trail, I kept hearing versions of “Wow! These days have really challenged my view of Ohio.“

Those comments warmed my heart as the leader of the Ohio to Erie Trail. They affirmed that this trail and this state offer something distinctive enough to surprise people.

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Visitors Helped Me See Ohio

Maybe their reactions shouldn’t have surprised me. I’ve spent most of my life in Ohio, traveling and living across the state. I’ve cycled its roads and trails, hiked its parks and walked my dogs along its paths. I know there is more here than cornfields and soybeans.

When cyclists arrived with one set of expectations and discovered something different, I paid attention. After years of promoting the Ohio to Erie Trail, their reactions meant a lot to me. They also pointed to something bigger.

Visitors arrive without that familiarity, carrying either a blank slate or familiar stereotypes. Maybe it’s time to replace those assumptions with a new view of Ohio, not glimpsed from a red-eye between New York and Los Angeles, but experienced up close from a bicycle.

Three Cities, Three Stories

One of the things that makes the Ohio to Erie Trail unique is that it connects Ohio’s three largest cities: Cincinnati, Columbus and Cleveland. Each tells a different story.

Cincinnati’s history and culture are deeply influenced by its location on the Ohio River and its German heritage. Columbus is the state capital, a growing and increasingly diverse urban center. Cleveland carries the imprint of Lake Erie, generations of European immigration and a powerful industrial past.

All three reflect Ohio, but none is a copy of the others. Each has its own personality, neighborhoods and stories. The Ohio to Erie Trail links them and, in doing so, tells a larger story about the state.

Think about that. You can dip your back tire in the Ohio River, ride through the state’s three largest cities, pass farms and small towns, and eventually touch your front tire to the shore of Lake Erie. Not many trail systems can do the same.

This is Ohio, where cities, towns, farms, parks, and people are connected by a trail that reveals the state one mile at a time.

Towns Missed on the Interstate

Some of the most memorable magic of the Ohio to Erie Trail happens between the big cities.

Ohio is filled with small towns shaped by agriculture, manufacturing, railroads, canals and industries. As economies changed, they struggled and found new life by embracing their history, downtowns, trails and the outdoors.

Places such as Loveland, Xenia, London, Mount Vernon, Millersburg and Massillon are just a few of the communities you pass through. Each has its own personality, culture and history, just like the larger urban centers.

You miss that on the interstate where small towns shrink to exit signs. Local life is a blurred view for a minute or two from your windshield.

On a bicycle, you roll through those towns, villages, and country crossroads. You stop for lunch, sit on a bench, and watch the day unfold. Someone points you toward a coffee shop, brewery, bakery, or diner. Places you would have passed at highway speed become your story from behind the handlebar.

Ohio becomes an experience rather than a pass-through. That’s an important distinction. Your encounters challenge and change your preconceptions of Ohio and its people.

More Than Cornfields and Soybeans

Ohio has corn and soybeans, but its geography is far more diverse than the stereotype suggests. On the Ohio to Erie Trail, the scenery shifts from southern river valleys and woodlands to farmland, barns and silos as you head north.

Beyond the urban centers, rural Ohio blends agriculture with its industrial past as prairies give way to rolling farmland and forests. White farmhouses, roadside stands, rolling hills and fields evoke a simpler way of life passing through Ohio’s Amish country.

The Ohio & Erie Canal, its canal towns and cities, and the Towpath Trail reveal how the waterway connected Ohio’s interior to the Great Lakes and fueled agricultural and industrial growth in communities large and small.

River Valleys. Farmland. Forests. Canals. Industrial remnants. Cities. Lake Erie. Mile by mile, the trail reveals a different side of Ohio.

People and Cultures Along the Way

Ohio’s landscape is only part of the story. Agriculture, industry, and immigration shaped its food, architecture, traditions, and communities. A bicycle lets you experience that diversity at a slower human pace with time to notice details.

Share a conversation at a small-town diner. Try an ethnic restaurant in an urban neighborhood. Wander through a reinvented historic downtown or talk to a local on the trail. These unexpected and chance encounters reveal that Ohio has not one culture but many.

That diversity challenges another misconception: that Midwestern people fit a single mold. Cross Ohio, and you’ll find that communities, like people, resist easy categories.

Not a Tunnel of Green

Some people imagine long-distance trails as little more than green tunnels. At times, beautifully, they are. Along stretches of the Ohio to Erie Trail, oaks, elms, and sycamores surround you for miles while nature’s sounds and the rhythm of your tires invite reflection.

The landscape opens. Barns, silos and grain bins appear. A village comes into view. You cross an iron bridge, pass railroad signs and mile markers, and catch traces of the old railroad. You ride into a downtown lined with local shops. The green corridor becomes the welcome mat to everything beyond it.

That variety reflects the trail’s history. Much of the Ohio to Erie Trail follows railroad and canal corridors built not to isolate communities, but to connect them. Today, the trail carries that purpose forward.

It still connects communities, landscapes and people. That’s why I see the Ohio to Erie Trail as more than a tunnel of green bicycle route. It’s a way to experience Ohio.

Kind to Your Wallet

One Midwestern stereotype works in Ohio’s favor: Travel here is surprisingly affordable.

When travel costs matter, Ohio offers flexible choices. Stay in a comfortable hotel, an economical B&B or a campground. Dine at local restaurants or pick up lunch from an Amish store or roadside stand. Make the trip as elaborate or as simple as you like.

The quality of the experience doesn’t depend on how much you spend. Its real rewards are the miles, scenery, people, and places you discover along the way.

Ohio delivers a strong return on your travel dollar and something no credit card statement can measure: a story worth telling.

Experience Ohio for Yourself

These two rides reminded me what it feels like to see Ohio for the first time. After years on its trails, I know the towns, the landscapes, and how much waits beyond the stereotypes.

Some of my fellow cyclists knew Ohio well, while for others, this was their first real experience of the state. Watching their perceptions change reminded me that sometimes it takes someone else’s eyes to help us see a familiar place differently.

Ohio does not need to prove that it is beautiful or pretend to be something it is not. It simply invites people to slow down and experience it.

Leave the interstate. Ride a bike or walk a trail. Visit a small town. Talk with someone. Try the local food. Look around. The Ohio you imagined may not be the Ohio you find.

When you plan your next cycling trip or look for somewhere new to explore, don’t fly over Ohio. Bike over it. See whether your assumptions hold up.

Perhaps somewhere along the trail, you will find yourself echoing the refrain I heard from so many recent visitors:

“Wow. This changed how I see Ohio.”

For most of the Ohio to Erie Trail’s thirty-five-year history, the focus has been on miles: building them, connecting them, and completing the trail. Today, 92% of its 326 miles are off-road and on trail, creating a premier long-distance outdoor experience for cyclists, hikers, and anyone drawn to exploring the outdoors.

Yet the trail is about more than the distance between two places. Its deeper appeal comes from the cities, towns, rural crossroads, farms, forests, rivers, canals, and country roads that together create a distinct experience of Ohio.

When distance and Midwestern culture come together, they create tourism rooted in outdoor recreation. As more people seek that experience, trail visitors become more frequent and visible. When visitors stop, explore, eat, shop, and stay overnight, the trail becomes an economic engine.

Communities, large and small, are seeing visitors who, before the trail, might have been unknown or driven past. What is emerging along the Ohio to Erie Trail is an invitation to pause, explore, eat, shop, stay awhile, and come back.

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Discovering the Seed

In 1995, the Allegheny Trail Alliance, now the Great Allegheny Passage Conservancy, was connecting a continuous trail from Pittsburgh to Cumberland. As the trail grew, so did the communities around it. Restaurants, lodgings, bike shops, and outfitters emerged to serve visitors, creating a new outdoor tourism economy.

In 2011, I discovered bicycle touring with a friend. We embarked on a weeklong journey along the Great Allegheny Passage and the C&O Canal Towpath. It was on that trip that I was introduced to the Great Allegheny Passage Trail Town program.

The program was relatively young, but its impact was becoming evident. Towns along the trail were reinventing themselves. Communities once defined by the declining steel industries of the Pittsburgh region were finding new life and opportunities through the trail and the people it brought to their doorsteps.

That first trip inspired me to return. Over the years, I have become a frequent visitor to the Great Allegheny Passage. It has become a regular part of my touring calendar, sometimes a weekend retreat with my bike club, other times an end-to-end tour.

Each time I returned, I noticed something new.

The amenities and services along the trail grew as towns embraced the Trail Town mentality. More services attracted more visitors. More visitors created demand for even more services. That cycle created an experience increasingly attractive to visitors and residents alike.

I saw that a trail’s attractiveness and success wasn’t just the ribbon connecting one place to another. It was weaving itself into the identity and economy of the communities along its path.

Bringing the Seed Home

In 2018, when I joined the Ohio to Erie Trail board, the pieces of the 326-mile route were being increasingly connected. That connectiveness enticed more people to discover and explore the trail as tourists, just as I had discovered and experienced the Great Allegheny Passage.

As interest in the Ohio to Erie Trail grew, building the trail became only part of the work. Improving the visitor experience became just as important.

An interactive map and supporting trail guide became essential tools to help visitors navigate the trail more easily. The trail’s website shifted toward showing visitors where to stay, where to eat, what to see, and how to travel through trail communities.

As the leader of the volunteer marketing team, I saw that tourism was central to our role. We were not just building a connected cross-state trail. We were creating and promoting an outdoor destination. That distinction was becoming increasingly important.

Planting the Seed in Central Ohio

In early 2020, the marketing team planned a conference focused on outdoor recreation and tourism opportunities along the Ohio to Erie Trail. Our featured speaker was Amy Camp of Cycle Forward, an early leader of the Trail Town movement along the Great Allegheny Passage.

The pandemic changed everything, and the conference was canceled. Like many organizations, we pivoted to Zoom and hosted a series of webinars. Amy Camp was featured in two of our webinars, introducing the Trail Town concept.

Our goal was to help Ohioans see the trail’s potential beyond connecting miles to connecting communities and businesses to new opportunities.

The webinars were well attended and struck a chord with many participants. The Mid-Ohio Regional Planning Commission took particular interest in the opportunity to bring the concept to communities along the Ohio to Erie Trail in Columbus and the growing Central Ohio trail network.

In late 2021, the Ohio to Erie Trail partnered with the Rails-to-Trails Conservancy and the Mid-Ohio Regional Planning Commission to match a grant from The Columbus Foundation. This collaborative investment funded a multi-year effort to lay the groundwork for bringing Trail Towns to Central Ohio.

The seed had been planted.

Nurturing the Seed

By 2023, when I was elected president of the Ohio to Erie Trail board, more visitors were arriving, more trail miles were connected, and our website and resources were supporting a growing audience.

The board recognized the need to support outdoor recreation, tourism, and the local economy more intentionally. That meant expanding our mission beyond building and connecting trail miles to investing in the communities along the route.

In November 2023, the trail board defined a new strategic direction. The process challenged us to look not only at the miles still to be built, but also at what the trail could become.

The future of the Ohio to Erie Trail would not be defined solely by completing 326 continuous miles. It also needed to strengthen connections among communities, businesses, and residents to create a richer, more welcoming experience for trail users.

By improving the visitor experience and strengthening trail communities, we could help restaurants, lodging, bike shops, attractions, and other local businesses benefit from the people the trail brings into town.

In many ways, we were starting down the same path I had seen years earlier along the Great Allegheny Passage.

The Seed Takes Root

The seed planted in 2021 by the Rails-to-Trails Conservancy, Mid-Ohio Regional Planning Commission, and the Ohio to Erie Trail, with the support of the Columbus Foundation, began to grow.

Thanks to the leadership of Central Ohio Greenways staff within MORPC, the multi-year effort explored what a Trail Town could look like in Central Ohio, including how the concept might work in an urban environment and how wayfinding could improve the trail experience.

In late 2025, MORPC committed to a significant investment in Trail Towns. Communities along the Ohio to Erie Trail would become pilot communities, with London, Westerville, Centerburg, and Mount Vernon joining Worthington as Trail Town pioneers.

The Trail Town seed planted years earlier was sprouting.

The Seed Grows

What is happening in Central Ohio isn’t copying what worked along the Great Allegheny Passage. Trail Town initiatives can range from rigid programs to simple ideas. Here, each community is guided in finding its own way in defining what the trail means for its residents, businesses, and visitors.

As a participant in the Central Ohio Trail Town initiative, I have watched each town come together to create something it truly owns. That sense of community ownership matters.

For years, the Ohio to Erie Trail has been built through the work of the state, local governments, and trail groups, with investment focused mainly on completing and connecting trail miles.

This community-focused ownership shifts that model. The trail is the catalyst. Towns and businesses take the lead in building an outdoor recreation economy, visitor experience, and tourism identity they claim as their own.

That work is nearing completion, with a public reveal expected at the end of 2026. While the final details are still in progress, it has the potential to elevate the Ohio to Erie Trail to a new level.

The trail is proud to be part of this investment and grateful to the partners making it possible, especially the Mid-Ohio Regional Planning Commission. Their work has helped people in each community step forward and carry the Trail Town vision forward.

These communities recognize that the ideas that helped make the Great Allegheny Passage a premier outdoor destination can help Ohio’s trail communities and businesses thrive and strengthen the Ohio to Erie Trail.

What was planted as a seed planted in Pennsylvania now grows into something distinctly Ohio.

The Seed Grows Trail Town Reality

The most transformational part of the Central Ohio Trail Town initiative is its invitation to community members to collaborate in the work. A welcoming community is not created solely by trails and governments. It is shaped by the businesses and people whose actions tell visitors, “You are welcome here.”

What excites me most about the Central Ohio effort is that it is something uniquely Ohio. Not a cookie-cutter program. Not a rigid checklist that every community has to rigidly follow. Instead, it is a framework communities use to tell their own stories and create their version of a Trail Town.

If we get it right in Central Ohio, it could be the model for how Ohio leverages the concept along the entire Ohio to Erie Trail. The trail itself is only part of the experience. The real experience is the cross-state journey and the people, places, and communities discovered along the way.

That’s what makes a trail more than a trail. It becomes the connection of people to places.

That’s a seed worth planting, nurturing, and growing along the trail.

Earlier this week, I returned from a 12-day cycling adventure along the Danube, traveling from Passau, Germany to Budapest, Hungary. It was to be a river cruise paired with cycling. Drought and extremely low water levels on the Danube changed those plans.

Thanks to some quick work by the cruise line and Terra Nova Bicycle Tours, my river cruise became a land-based cycling adventure with shuttling between destinations. It wasn’t what I had planned, but it turned into a wonderful trip.

One of the things that stayed with me has little to do with cycling through vineyards and quaint villages or feasting on schnitzel and goulash. It was the cycling culture I saw every day.

On my first morning in Passau, I walked the cobblestone streets and saw people on bicycles everywhere. People heading to work. Parents taking children to school. People were running errands. A mail carrier making his rounds by bicycle.

Nobody seemed to think this was unusual. Because it wasn’t. The bicycle was simply part of everyday life.

That is quite different from how we tend to view cycling in the United States. We often put cyclists into two categories: the person out for a ride or the Lycra-clad cyclist chasing the Strava leaderboard.

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People on Bicycles

Millions of people ride bicycles for reasons other than recreation or sport. That number is growing and becoming more visible.

I was reminded of this in a recent Florida Bicycle Association newsletter. They have begun using the phrase “people on bicycles” rather than “cyclists.” At first, that seems like nothing more than a change in terminology. It is much more important than that.

Calling someone a “cyclist” can create an image of a particular type of person in our minds, someone who rides a bicycle because cycling is their recreation or their sport.

Call them a person on a bicycle, and suddenly the bicycle becomes secondary. The person comes first. That distinction matters.

That is why the Florida Bicycle Association intentionally uses the phrase “people on bicycles.” Words like “cyclist” or “bicyclist” can sometimes turn a human being into an abstract category, a type of traffic rather than a person. - Safer Bicycling Takes All of Us

Several years ago, I participated in an experiential cycling education program that taught us how to help people use bicycles for everyday transportation. One of the things the instructor told us has always stuck with me.

Ask someone who rides a bicycle to work or to the grocery store if they consider themselves a cyclist. The overwhelming answer is “no”.

Research on cycling identity supports that observation. Many people who regularly commute by bicycle do not identify themselves as “cyclists.” For them, a bicycle is simply a means of transportation, a way to get to work, go shopping, or get wherever they need to go.

That distinction is important. “Cyclist” describes how someone is traveling. It doesn’t necessarily describe who they are.

That is exactly what I saw along the Danube. In much of Europe, the bicycle is viewed much like Americans view the automobile: as a tool for getting somewhere. It is simply part of everyday life.

And that brings me back to something I’ve been writing about extensively lately: e-bikes.

Cultural Shift to People on Bicycles

America is in the middle of a cycling cultural shift. More people are finding themselves on bicycles. Some ride traditional pedal-powered bikes. Others are riding e-bikes.

Some are commuting. Some are delivering food and packages. Some are running errands. Some are taking their children places. Some are riding for exercise. Some are just having a great time on two wheels.

In this cultural shift, we’re also seeing more people, particularly young people, on e-bikes.

These aren’t all “cyclists” in the traditional sense. They are people on bicycles. I think that’s an important distinction as we figure out how bicycles and e-bikes fit into American life.

Responsibilities of People on Bicycles

There is another side to this conversation. If we want America to embrace the bicycle the way much of Europe has, then people on bicycles have responsibilities, too.

In Europe, I see something else that impresses me: a culture of sharing and caring. People on bicycles behaved as though they understood that they weren’t the only ones out there.

They were courteous. They followed the rules. They respected pedestrians. They understood that a bicycle, whether pedal-powered or electric, doesn’t give the rider special privileges.

That’s a lesson we need to carry forward here.

Someone who buys an e-bike to make deliveries may have quite a different reason for riding than someone who has spent 20 years in cycling clubs.

Someone riding an e-bike because it makes cycling accessible to them may have a completely different experience from a lifelong cyclist.

When we don’t ride responsibly, the consequences are real: conflict, unsafe behavior, excessive unsafe speed, misuse of technology, and increased risk for pedestrians and other people on bicycles.

Responsibilities of People on E-bikes

This is particularly important with e-bikes because the technology is bringing new people onto bicycles who may never have considered themselves cyclists before.

No question, that’s a good thing.

Bringing more people onto bicycles also means we need more education, more awareness, and, yes, reasonable and consistent rules.

My recent e-bike series has been an attempt to start that conversation. I don’t believe e-bikes are going away. Quite the opposite. They are becoming an increasingly important part of transportation and recreation in America.

The question isn’t whether we should have e-bikes. The question is how we integrate them into our communities responsibly.

Perhaps one place to start is by changing how we think and talking about the people riding them. Let’s stop thinking of cyclists as some separate category of people.

They are people. People go to work. People go to school. People go to the grocery. People deliver dinner. People exercise. People enjoy the trail and outdoors. People visit friends. People go somewhere.

They happen to be on bicycles. That’s how I saw cycling along the Danube. Perhaps that’s the perspective we need to bring home with us.

See the Person First. See the Bicycle Second.

To everyone who is a person on a bicycle, whether on a 20-year-old road bike, a mountain bike, a cruiser, or an e-bike, remember that being part of this growing cycling culture comes with a responsibility.

Ride smart. Ride courteously. Respect the people around you. Follow the rules.

Because if we want to build a country where bicycles are treated as a normal part of everyday transportation, we need to act as if they belong there. Because they do.

And they are not just cyclists. They are people on bicycles.

After a month of writing about e-bikes on trails, asking questions, and encouraging respectful discussion, I’m pleased to share the 2026 Tom on the Trails E-Bike Survey Report. It is now available to read and download, and I hope you’ll take the time to explore it.

This article highlights the major findings, only scratching the surface of what trail users shared. The full report includes survey results, participant comments, recommendations, and links to additional resources providing valuable context for anyone interested in the future of e-bikes on trails.

When I began this series, my goal wasn’t to convince anyone they were right or wrong. It was to listen. Conversations about e-bikes have become increasingly emotional; too often people speak past one another instead of with one another.

I wanted to understand what people who actually use our trails were experiencing and what they believed would make trails safer and more welcoming for everyone.

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Who Responded

Most respondents are cyclists who regularly use trails. Many ride traditional bicycles, many ride e-bikes, and a significant number ride both. Most respondents were middle-aged or older, and while the majority were from Ohio, cyclists from several other states also participated.

This wasn’t intended to be a scientific poll of the general public. Rather, it provides a snapshot of the people who spend time on our trails and who experience these issues firsthand.

What People Told Me

One of the strongest messages was that people are more concerned about behavior than batteries. Respondents emphasized that excessive speed, poor trail etiquette, inattention, and reckless cycling create conflict, not whether someone is riding an e-bike.

That doesn’t mean everyone agrees on e-bike access. They don’t. There was remarkable agreement that courtesy, common sense, and respect for other trail users matter far more than the presence of an electric motor.

Education Before More Regulation

A theme throughout the survey was the need for better education. Respondents believe we can improve trail safety effectively by helping people understand trail etiquette, e-bike classifications, and responsible cycling rather than by only adding more regulations.

There was considerable confusion surrounding the differences between the classes of e-bikes and electric motorcycles, often called e-motos. People use those terms interchangeably, even though they are very different, with different intended uses and different legal treatment.

Better public understanding benefits everyone — cyclists, pedestrians, trail managers, and policymakers alike.

Balancing Safety and Accessibility

The survey highlighted something that deserves equal attention. Respondents shared stories of how e-bikes have made cycling accessible to people of all ages and abilities, helping them discover cycling for the first time, return after years away, or continue doing what they love. For many, e-bikes aren't a luxury but the reason they can still ride.

That perspective deserves to be part of every conversation about future trail policies. The challenge isn’t choosing between safety and accessibility. It’s finding policies that support both.

Recommendations to Move Forward

The report summarizes several recommendations that appeared consistently throughout the survey.

Respondents favored focusing first on unsafe behavior rather than the technology itself. They encouraged more education, consistent enforcement of existing rules, clearer distinctions between e-bikes and e-motos, and fair, understandable regulations that are consistent across the state.

These are not recommendations from experts sitting in conference rooms. They come directly from the people who use our trails.

Policy Conversations Continue

Technology continues to evolve faster than many laws. Communities across Ohio and around the country wrestle with questions surrounding e-bike access, enforcement, safety, and the growing popularity of electric mobility.

The report addresses policy challenges. With limited federal direction, states and local communities are left to decide where e-bikes may be used. That makes it especially important for these discussions to rely on accurate information rather than assumptions.

Education, the Missing Piece

The thing I hope readers take away is to educate yourself. Learn how e-bikes are classified. Understand how Ohio law defines them. Become familiar with federal guidance. Learn the difference between an e-bike and an e-moto.

Read about how other states, trails, and communities are approaching these issues. Whether you support broader e-bike access or favor additional restrictions, informed opinions make for better conversations and ultimately better public policy.

In the report, you’ll find links to trusted resources, including federal guidance, Ohio laws, information about proposed federal e-bike labeling standards, and educational materials from respected organizations.

I encourage readers to explore resources from Rails-to-Trails Conservancy, People For Bikes, and the League of American Bicyclists. These organizations have invested in research, education, safety, and policy development.

Read the Full Report

This article is only an overview. The complete report includes detailed survey findings, charts, participant comments, recommendations, links to laws and regulations, and additional resources for anyone who wants to explore the topic more deeply.

If you’re interested in the future of our trails, I hope you’ll read or download the report and spend some time reflecting on it.

Thank You

I want to thank everyone who followed this series, shared your thoughts, and especially those who took the time to complete the survey. I hope this report accurately reflects the community’s perspectives.

Personally, the survey challenged me beyond my assumptions, giving me a broader appreciation for the diverse opinions surrounding e-bikes. I learned as much from this project as I hope my readers will.

This won’t be the last conversation about e-bikes. Trails, municipalities, state agencies, advocacy groups, and elected officials will continue discussing issues in the years to come as technology evolves and trail use grows.

I hope those conversations remain thoughtful, respectful, and grounded in facts.

Thank you again for participating, for reading, and for helping make this project possible. I look forward to continuing the conversation.

As always, I’ll see you on the trail.
Tom on the Trails

Last week I wrote about one side of the e-bike discussion: behavior.

Most of the concerns people shared in my survey had less to do with the e-bike and more to do with how it was being ridden. Excessive speed, poor trail etiquette, inexperience, and a lack of courtesy came up again and again.

This week, I’d like to look at the other side of the issue: rules, regulations, education, and enforcement. How do we keep trails safe? Who should make the rules? Who enforces them? And how do we encourage people to ride responsibly while still welcoming e-bikes to our trails?

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A Snapshot of the Survey

The survey has now received more than 250 responses, providing a good cross-section of trail users.

Nearly half of respondents ride traditional bicycles, about 30% primarily ride e-bikes, and roughly 20% ride both. That mix has produced a wide range of perspectives rather than one dominant viewpoint.

Most respondents ride for recreation and exercise (about 70%). More than half also identified assistance with aging or physical limitations as an important reason, reinforcing the value e-bikes provide to many people.

Not surprisingly, e-bikes are a common sight on trails. Nearly three-quarters of respondents frequently encounter them, while another quarter sees them occasionally.

When asked about their overall opinion of e-bikes on trails, the responses were more positive than negative. About 40% viewed them positively, another 20% somewhat positively, about 20% somewhat negatively, and roughly 15% remained neutral.

That tells me something important. This is not a debate about whether e-bikes belong on trails. It’s a conversation about how they are used.

Who Should Make the Rules?

One question asked who should be responsible for regulating e-bikes. Nearly half of the respondents believe the state government should establish the rules. Only a small percentage felt local governments alone should do so, while about a quarter favored a shared state-local approach.

That result mirrors what we’re seeing today. Because Ohio’s current laws don’t address many of the concerns riders identified, particularly unsafe behavior and excessive speed, many cities and communities have begun adopting their own regulations.

This creates confusing and, at times, inconsistent laws that are difficult to follow. Our growing connected network of trails allows cyclists to pass through numerous communities. An e-bike legal in one town may be prohibited in the next. For out-of-state visitors, it’s difficult to know which rules apply where.

Statewide standards create clarity. Local governments should still have flexibility to address unique situations, but the basic rules in a state should be consistent wherever someone rides.

Education Is the Missing Piece

One theme stood out prominently. People believe we need far more education.

Today, someone can walk into a bike shop, purchase an e-bike, and ride away with little or no instructions. The same is true for many bike-share systems, where you check out an e-bike and ride. No one explains cycling etiquette, e-bike basics, safe speeds, passing safely, or the different bike classes.

That gap creates predictable problems. Several ideas surfaced repeatedly throughout the survey:

• Bike shops should provide basic education with every e-bike sale.

• Trail organizations and local governments should regularly share safety tips and trail etiquette.

• Community organizations, advocacy groups, and cycling clubs should offer introductory e-bike classes and clinics.

• Short videos and social media campaigns could reinforce safe riding habits for both new and experienced riders.

Education is relatively inexpensive, easy to implement, and likely to have a much greater impact than simply adding more rules.

Enforcement Is Essential but Not Simple

Enforcement is an important part of the solution, but it’s also one of the most difficult pieces to get right.

Ohio already has laws governing e-bikes. The larger question is whether those laws address the issues trail users are actually experiencing. Survey respondents consistently identified unsafe speeds, poor trail etiquette, and irresponsible rider behavior, not the class of e-bike itself, as their primary concerns.

Even the best laws are only effective if they can be enforced. Most trails don’t have enough rangers or law enforcement officers to patrol the trail. With limited budgets and competing public safety priorities, trail enforcement falls low on the list. As a result, enforcement typically occurs after a crash or serious incident.

Laws that focus only on the punishment after an incident miss the opportunity to prevent the problem in the first place.

Improving enforcement requires more than passing new laws. It begins with educating legislators about the issues trail users are experiencing so they can craft laws that are practical, enforceable, and focused on prevention rather than reaction.

Enforcement requires resources. Enforcement needs funding to recruit, train, and deploy rangers or officers who can do more than issue citations. Their presence encourages safer riding and serves an equally important role by educating trail users, answering questions, and promoting responsible trail etiquette.

In the end, enforcement should be viewed as one part of a larger strategy, working alongside education, awareness, and shared responsibility to keep our trails safe and welcoming for everyone.

It’s a Community Responsibility

The survey’s clearest message about laws and rules is that trail safety is not solely the government’s responsibility. It is a shared responsibility that begins before anyone reaches the trail.

It starts with the person considering an e-bike. Buyers should research and understand the different e-bike classes, know where each is allowed, and choose a bike that fits how and where they plan to ride.

Bike shops play a critical role, too. They can help customers choose the right e-bike, explain its capabilities, review trail etiquette, and provide a basic overview of state laws, local regulations, and trail rules before the rider leaves the store.

Trail organizations, communities, advocacy groups, and the state can reinforce safe riding through social media, videos, signage, and public awareness campaigns. The Ohio Department of Transportation has already created useful e-bike resources that can be expanded to support this shared responsibility.

Ultimately, each cyclist is responsible for how they ride.

Knowing the rules is only the first step. Following them is what keeps trails safe and welcoming. Irresponsible riding has consequences that extend far beyond a possible citation. It influences whether families feel comfortable bringing their children to the trail and whether walkers, runners, birdwatchers, and cyclists alike continue to see our trails as places where everyone belongs.

The Biggest Takeaway

After reviewing hundreds of survey responses, one point is clear: most people believe e-bikes belong on our trails.

They value the independence e-bikes provide, for commuting, errands, recreation, exercise, and helping people ride who might otherwise be unable to. They also recognize that e-bikes make cycling more accessible and help more people stay active.

At the same time, respondents consistently noted that irresponsible riding can quickly change the feel of a trail. Excessive speed, poor etiquette, and unsafe behavior can make welcoming places feel less comfortable for everyone.

Put simply, the issue is not just about laws or enforcement. When education, enforcement, and personal responsibility work together, trails remain safe, welcoming places for all.

Next week, I’ll close the survey, publish the final results, and share the responses for anyone interested in exploring the data. I’ll also offer recommendations for a practical, balanced approach to managing e-bikes on our trails.

I hope you’ll join me for the final installment.

Happy trails,
Tom on the Trails

When I published my recent article, And What About E-Bikes?, I hoped to start a conversation, not settle an argument. So far, that’s exactly what’s happening.

More than two hundred have taken the time to complete my e-bike survey. While there are certainly differences of opinion, one thing is remarkably clear. The biggest concern people have about our trails today isn’t only about e-bikes. It’s about people.

As I’ve read through the responses, four themes are surfacing: excessive speed, poor trail etiquette, inexperienced riders, and a need for better education. This suggests that trails change as both trail use grows and e-bikes become more common on them.

The challenge isn’t simply adapting to e-bike technology and capabilities, but more about learning how to share trails safely and considerately.

What’s encouraging is that most respondents aren’t calling for bans or sweeping restrictions. Instead, they’re asking for better ways to address these challenges.

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Excessive Speed

Speed dominates the concerns.

Whether respondents ride traditional bicycles, e-bikes, or walk the trails, they see riders traveling too fast for conditions. Interestingly, most don’t believe speed is exclusively an e-bike problem. Strong riders on traditional bikes can travel just as fast or faster than e-bike riders.

Multi-use trails aren’t racecourses. They’re shared public spaces where riders, walkers, runners, families with children, people walking dogs, and those on mobility devices have an equal right to feel safe.

One of the biggest challenges trail managers face is encouraging safe speeds. Speed-limit signs are the most common way they respond. Too often unseen or ignored. Social media campaigns promoting trail courtesy help. Ultimately, speed is a choice each rider makes.

The goal isn’t only to slow people down. It’s to help riders understand that excessive speed endangers both themselves and others. Excessive speed makes trails unsafe and unwelcoming.

The real issue isn’t what the bike can do. It’s whether the rider uses good judgment in deciding what they should do.

Poor Trail Etiquette

Speed is closely connected to basic trail etiquette.

Passing without warning, riding side by side, blocking the trail, wearing headphones that make it difficult to hear others, and speeding past slower visitors is frustrating, no matter what type of bike someone rides.

Good etiquette is what makes shared trails work well. Announcing passes, slowing when necessary, yielding appropriately, and exercising patience aren’t new. These basic courtesies are becoming less common as trail use increases.

The lesson is simple and familiar: mind your manners. That life advice applies on the trail. Be courteous. Follow basic etiquette. Respect others. Education and awareness may do more to improve safety than e-bike rules alone.

Inexperienced Riders

Another recurring theme is that e-bikes are introducing a growing number of new riders to our trails.

Cycling, once viewed as recreation, is serving more purposes and more people. Respondents see this as one of e-bikes’ greatest strengths. Older adults are riding again. People with physical limitations are enjoying trails they believed were inaccessible to them.

People are using e-bikes instead of cars to save money, as battery assistance, lower transportation and maintenance costs, and rising car ownership expenses make them an appealing option.

Those are changes worth celebrating.

Survey responses suggest that many new e-bike riders have limited cycling experience. They may never have learned fundamental riding skills or trail etiquette because they never needed them. At the same time, experienced cyclists who transition to e-bikes can underestimate the added power, acceleration, and speed that electric assist provides.

The solution isn’t to discourage new riders. It’s to welcome them while giving them the knowledge and confidence to ride safely and responsibly.

Need for Better Education

Another solution that’s surfacing in the responses is education.

Many believe the public still doesn’t understand the classes of e-bikes. Some assume every e-bike is essentially an electric motorcycle. Others don’t realize that class 1 e-bikes assist only while pedaling and stop assisting at 20 mph.

Education must go beyond understanding how an e-bike works. It’s learning proper trail etiquette, whether riding a bike, walking, running, or pushing a stroller.

It’s seeing that every trail visitor experiences the trail from a different perspective. It’s understanding rules, respecting one another, and accepting the shared responsibility that comes with public spaces.

Who is responsible for that education?

It begins when the bike is sold. Bike shops have an opportunity to introduce new e-bike riders, beyond features, to the responsibilities of riding on shared-use trails, with more power at their fingertips.

Trail organizations reinforce those expectations through signs, social media, and educational campaigns.

Trail and outdoor advocacy must shape public policy and understanding as e-bike laws evolve and trail use changes.

Communities must ensure that residents and visitors alike, regardless of experience or skill level, understand what it means to bike safely, behave courteously, and share the trail responsibly.

Education alone won’t solve every conflict. Without it, even the best laws and trail rules can only go so far.

What I’m Hearing

What impresses me is how balanced the comments are.

Most see the tremendous opportunities e-bikes provide, allowing more people to discover cycling and others to keep cycling later in life and enjoy the outdoors.

At the same time, you want our trails to be safe, welcoming, and enjoyable for everyone. Those aren’t competing goals. They can and should exist together.

As I read the responses, I’m becoming more convinced that this isn't just about e-bikes. It's about how our trail community adapts to welcome them while preserving the culture of courtesy, patience, and respect that makes trails special.

Written responses don't tell the whole story. When viewed alongside the survey's other questions, they point to a broader conversation about how e-bike regulations should evolve and how those changes should be made.

I’ll be taking a closer look at that side of the survey in a future article. It’s a complex issue with no simple answers, requiring a balance between safety, practical use, and regulations that make sense for trails and people who use them.

Stay tuned.

Thank You. There’s Still Time

I want to sincerely thank everyone who read my initial article and completed the survey. Your thoughtful comments are moving this conversation beyond assumptions and toward practical solutions.

If you haven’t yet shared your thoughts, I’d still love to hear from you.

I’ll keep the survey open until the middle of July. After that, I’ll summarize the results and share what we can learn from this community conversation.

The more voices we hear, the better we’ll understand not only where we disagree, but where we find common ground. Judging from the responses so far, there’s more common ground than many of us expected.

Chime in on the conversation here.

In many European countries, bicycles are part of everyday life for commuting, shopping, and running errands. E-bikes are widely accepted because they make those trips easier and more enjoyable. The conversation around their use and adoption is different because the cycling culture is different.

E-bikes have become common on American streets and trails. Much of the regulatory debate has focused on the bikes themselves. Concern about their power and speed is understandable. But it overlooks the larger issue of how America’s car-centered culture shapes attitudes and behaviors toward e-bikes and bicycles of all kinds.

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Different Cultures, Different Results

Having explored Europe by bike, I’ve seen firsthand how bicycles are integral to everyday life, from small villages to large cities. Cycling is seen as a legitimate mode of transportation.

European communities invest in bicycle infrastructure and amenities that encourage and support regular riding. Europeans recognize cyclists as normal users of the transportation network.

Infrastructure investments and community acceptance didn’t create the European bike culture. They grew out of it.

How America Became Car-Centered

The United States followed a very different path. In the early twentieth century, government policy, automaker influence, and advertising portrayed automobiles as symbols of freedom and prosperity. It worked, and the country moved away from walking and cycling.

That movement grew stronger after World War II. Wider highways and the interstate system reshaped American cities, fueled suburban growth, and made traveling longer distances more appealing. Urban design and transportation networks prioritized cars over bikes.

Bicycles were no longer viewed as everyday transportation. They became tools for recreation, fitness, and sport. That history influences how many Americans think about cycling today. A person on a bike is often assumed to be out for exercise rather than simply trying to get somewhere.

E-Bikes Are Changing the Story

Today’s e-bikes are reshaping that twentieth-century transportation story. They help older adults keep riding, make short car trips easier to replace, and open cycling to people who otherwise wouldn’t get on a bike.

E-bike adoption is moving quickly, but American culture is changing more slowly. Cars still dominate everyday transportation. E-bikes offer a lower-cost, lower-maintenance option that is earning a place alongside the car in the garage.

Trails are becoming connected transportation networks. Cities are adding bike lanes and amenities to reduce pressure on crowded streets and highways. Commuters on e-bikes, along with recreational cyclists, are becoming more visible on streets and trails.

Slowly, American culture is evolving toward a bike-friendly, car-centered model in which bicycles are increasingly seen as another expression of freedom and prosperity.

Culture Comes First

For cycling to become a valued part of everyday American life, the culture around it has to change. Rules matter. Education matters. Enforcement matters. But culture comes first.

Culture shapes behavior. Behavior shapes expectations. Expectations shape policy.

When people expect to share trails with others, they tend to be more courteous. Cyclists pay closer attention to their speed. Pedestrians feel safer sharing the trail. Communities invest in better infrastructure because they see bicycles as transportation, not just recreation.

Culture does not change overnight. It changes one cyclist, one conversation, one community, and one trail at a time.

The future isn’t only about building more trails or writing more rules. It’s helping people see how cycling, whether on a traditional bicycle or an e-bike, improves health, reduces dependence on cars, connects communities, and gives more people the freedom to travel under their own power.

When people understand that value, behavior changes. When behavior changes, everything else begins to change with it.

We Don’t Need to Become Europe

I’m not suggesting the United States should become Europe. Our geography, communities, transportation systems, history, culture, and challenges are different. For generations, we’ve designed our cities and suburbs around the automobile.

But we don’t have to become Europe to learn from it.

We can build an American cycling culture that reflects who we are while recognizing a lesson many European countries have already demonstrated: bicycles, including e-bikes, aren’t just recreational equipment. They’re practical, everyday transportation alongside walking, driving, and public transit.

The goal isn’t to copy another country. It’s creating a culture that works for American communities: urban, suburban, and rural, where people feel comfortable choosing a bicycle for practical trips and where everyone understands that cyclists belong on our roads and trails.

What Readers Are Telling Me

More than 200 readers have already shared their perspectives on e-bikes. Every response paints a clearer picture of what’s working and what still needs attention. Your voice helps shape future articles in this series exploring how to make our trails safer, more welcoming, and more enjoyable for everyone.

The responses reinforce what this article argues: the debate over e-bikes isn’t really about the battery. The biggest concerns aren’t only about e-bikes. They’re about behavior: unsafe speeds, poor trail etiquette, lack of awareness and education, and e-motos that belong on roads, not on trails.

If you haven’t yet participated in my e-bike survey, I hope you’ll take a few minutes to do so. If you haven’t already read my previous Tom on the Trails article, “And What About E-Bikes on Trails?”, I encourage you to start there. It explains the purpose of the survey, why I’m conducting it, and how your experiences can help shape the conversation.

Take Tom on the Trails E-bike Survey here.

Lately, e-bikes have been making headlines. Across Ohio and other states, a growing number of accidents involving e-bikes, pedestrians, and motor vehicles have prompted concern, particularly when youths are involved.

In response, communities are passing ordinances restricting e-bike use. While those efforts are well-intentioned, they risk creating regulations that address symptoms rather than the underlying problems.

Without a doubt, something must be done. However, it should be done thoughtfully and in a way that protects public safety without penalizing responsible e-bike cyclists.

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My Concerns

This issue is important to me as president of the Ohio to Erie Trail. Every year, thousands of people travel across Ohio on the trail by bicycle, with an increasing number on e-bikes.

It would be unfortunate if an e-bike that is legal and welcome in one community suddenly becomes restricted in the next. Consistent rules matter, especially on a statewide trail that connects so many different counties, cities, and villages.

Bicycle tourism is growing on the trail. The growth in recreational tourism supports local economies, promotes healthy lifestyles, and helps more people experience the outdoors. Clear e-bike rules should guide governments, allowing responsible e-bike tourists to enjoy trails.

As a cyclist and e-bike owner, I am concerned that some proposed or adopted laws and trail rules are confusing, inconsistent, or poorly communicated.

These regulations create unnecessary barriers for responsible cyclists. E-bikes make cycling accessible and enjoyable for many people. Policies should be clear, fair, and grounded in fact while supporting safety and access.

What Should We Do About E-Bikes?

There are many ideas for regulating e-bikes on trails, including age restrictions, licensing, registration, speed limits, and stricter enforcement of existing e-bike classifications. This list is just a sampling.

Before adding new laws and rules, we should ask: What problem are we trying to solve?

Too often, the conversation begins with proposed solutions before the actual problem is clearly defined. If we’re not careful, we risk creating regulations that address the wrong issue or solve a problem that doesn’t really exist.

Is the Problem Speed?

When people complain about e-bikes, it’s often about cyclists moving too fast on the trail. That’s a legitimate concern, often true. Is the problem really e-bikes, or is it speed?

Cyclists on both traditional bikes and e-bikes traveling 12 miles per hour seldom create conflict. Cyclists on both types of bikes traveling over 20 miles per hour on the trail can create plenty of conflict.

The trail user, on foot or wheels, who feels unsafe rarely cares whether the speed comes from legs or battery. They notice speed. If speed is the issue, perhaps that’s where speed limit awareness and enforcement should begin.

Is the Problem Behavior?

Trail conflicts have little to do with the type of bicycle. They involve poor behavior. Passing without warning. Cycling too fast for the conditions. unawareness of pedestrians. Riding two abreast and failing to yield.

An inconsiderate cyclist on any bike makes the trail unpleasant for everyone. Likewise, a courteous e-bike cyclist can be one of the safest trail users. I wonder if trail safety and etiquette education might accomplish more than regulation.

Is the Problem a Lack of Understanding E-bikes?

Views of battery-assisted bikes vary widely, making the discussion challenging. Some people see e-bikes as akin to motorcycles. Others question whether cyclists using motor assistance are really cycling at all. Both views blur important distinctions.

An e-bike, a throttle-assisted e-bike, and an e-moto are distinct types of bikes operating differently. The path forward might be helping people understand the distinctions so that safety, access, and regulation conversations are free of confusion.

Is the Problem Licensing E-Bike Cyclists?

Supporters of cyclist licensing argue that cyclists should pass a motor vehicle-type rules-of-the-road test to safely operate a battery-powered bike capable of 20 to 28 miles per hour. That’s a reasonable argument.

Knowledge improves safety. There are practical questions as well. If we don’t require a license to ride a traditional bicycle capable of 20 to 28 miles per hour, why should we require one for an e-bike?

Would licensing discourage cycling as an alternative to driving? Could it create barriers for older adults who depend on cycling to remain active? Would the benefits outweigh the costs and challenges of enforcement?

Is the Problem Age?

Many states already impose age restrictions for youth on e-bikes. The reasoning is understandable. Higher speeds require greater judgment, life experience, and understanding of the consequences of actions.

Age can be an imperfect measure of responsibility. A knowledgeable teen may be safer than an impulsive adult. The better question is whether all cyclists should demonstrate a basic understanding of safety before operating e-bikes.

Youth under 12 are still learning to judge risk, make responsible decisions, and cycle safely. Risky behavior should be discouraged on any bike. At this age, developing basic cycling skills, judgment, and responsibility should come before introducing the speed and power of an e-bike.

Is the Problem a Lack of Education?

If there is one area where most people find common ground, it is education. Imagine buying a new e-bike and receiving orientation on its operation, applicable laws, and safe cycling practices before leaving the store. That step could go a long way toward creating safer and more informed cyclists.

How should I use the different assist levels? How do my abilities, age, and cycling experience guide those choices? How quickly can the bike accelerate or stop? What laws and trail rules apply? What’s my responsibility in sharing the trail?

This solution focuses on safety, responsibility, and respect for others. While many bike shops already offer basic guidance to new cyclists, there may be value in making education a standard practice, or even incorporating it into regulatory requirements.

Is the Problem a Lack of Shared Responsibility?

The conversation often focuses on e-bikes and the people who ride them. They are only part of the equation. Manufacturers have a responsibility to design and produce safe products.

Bike shops play an important role in helping customers choose the right bike and understand how to operate it safely and responsibly.

Legislators, public agencies, and trail managers also have responsibilities. They must create clear, consistent laws and trail rules and communicate them effectively.

Ultimately, this is a matter of shared responsibility. Any regulations should be developed with input from all stakeholders, clearly define the responsibilities of each group, and balance legitimate concerns with the benefits of e-bikes to individuals, communities, and trail systems.

Is the Problem Consistency of Laws?

As e-bike tourism continues to grow, another challenge is becoming apparent: inconsistent regulations. A cyclist may begin a ride in one state, cross into another, and suddenly encounter a different set of rules. The same can happen when crossing county lines or entering a new city.

E-bike classifications, trail access rules, and age requirements can vary from one jurisdiction to the next. For long-distance trail systems such as the Ohio to Erie Trail, which connects communities across multiple counties, this patchwork of regulations can be confusing and difficult to navigate.

These inconsistencies make a strong case for greater uniformity. Not necessarily more regulation, but clearer, more consistent standards that are easier to understand and follow.

Are We Asking the Wrong Question

The debate over e-bikes is often framed as a choice between regulation and freedom. I think that’s the wrong conversation. The better question is this:

How do we make trails safer and more enjoyable for everyone?

The answer may involve regulations. It may involve education. It may involve better trail signage and stronger expectations for courtesy. Most likely, it will involve all of those things.

E-bikes are not going away. They open the door to cycling for people who might otherwise never ride a bike. They help older adults remain active, enable longer adventures, and allow more people to experience the freedom of exploration.

The Challenge Ahead

The challenge isn’t deciding whether e-bikes belong on our trails. It’s figuring out how walkers, runners, traditional cyclists, and e-bike cyclists can share trails safely and respectfully.

That conversation starts by identifying the problem before we rush to prescribe the solution. If we can agree on the problems, we have a better chance of finding solutions that make trails safer and more enjoyable for everyone.

Join in the Conversation

I encourage everyone, whether you ride an e-bike, a traditional bicycle, or no bicycle at all, to familiarize yourself with e-bike classifications, your state’s revised code, and the traffic laws that govern roads and trails. An informed discussion is always better than one built on assumptions.

Participate in community conversations, whether online, at public meetings, or during discussions about proposed regulations. The best solutions are often found when people listen as much as they speak.

For traditional cyclists, it helps to understand the many reasons people choose e-bikes. For some, an e-bike provides the assistance needed to continue cycling as they age or recover from injury or illness. For others, it makes longer rides possible, encourages more frequent cycling, or allows them to replace car trips with a bicycle.

E-bike cyclists should take the time to understand the concerns expressed by traditional cyclists. Not all of those concerns are unfounded, and meaningful dialogue begins when we understand others’ experiences and perspectives.

We should remember that every person on a bicycle is a fellow cyclist. Whether powered by legs alone or assisted by a motor, we share the same trails. We all benefit when cyclists treat one another with courtesy, patience, and respect.

Tom on the Trails

I’m gathering reader perspectives on e-bikes and trail safety.
It’s a short survey, and your voice really helps shape future posts.

Take Tom on the Trails E-bike Survey here.

When communities debate budgets, trails and parks are often treated as “nice-to-have” amenities. They’re competing with other priorities and sometimes seen as recreational extras rather than essential public infrastructure.

Data from a national survey tells a very different story.

A survey commissioned by the Trust for Public Land and conducted by YouGov found that Americans overwhelmingly view parks, trails, and other outdoor public spaces as fundamental parts of healthy communities. Americans agreed by an 8-to-1 margin that local parks are part of their community’s essential infrastructure.

As someone who advocates for trails, I wasn’t surprised by these findings. What struck me was how overwhelmingly the numbers confirm what many of us have known for years. The impact of trails and parks extends well beyond recreation, contributing to healthier people, stronger economies, and more vibrant communities.

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Healthy Communities

One of the strongest findings from the survey was the connection between outdoor spaces and personal well-being.

92% of Americans reported that improving their health motivated them to spend time outdoors in the past year. The most common reason people visited parks and trails was to be active. Walking, exercising, cycling, and participating in sports crossed all demographic groups and ages.

The benefits don’t stop with physical activity.

61% of respondents said they spend time outdoors to reduce stress and improve their mood. As anxiety, burnout, and social isolation become more common, parks and trails offer something screens cannot: places to get outside, stay active, and reconnect.

The survey also found that people who live within walking distance of a park are 35% more likely to meet recommended physical activity guidelines. That’s a remarkable return from a relatively simple community investment.

Building Community

The survey revealed another important role of parks and trails: they are desirable community gathering places.

More than half of Americans reported having a “third place” — a place other than home and work where people connect, build relationships, and enjoy community life. Parks and outdoor spaces ranked as the most popular of these gathering places.

Think about the life you see on a trail. Neighbors chat on morning walks, families ride bikes together, and others get lost in the outdoors. Trails create unexpected and new connections while strengthening existing ones.

At a time when many Americans of all ages are concerned about loneliness and social division, trails and parks create opportunities for casual human interaction that build stronger connected communities.

Green Time

One finding that stood out involved younger adults.

Many reported that putting down mobile phones, tablets, and video games was a major motivation for spending time outdoors. The desire for “green time, not screen time” was particularly strong among younger generations.

Anyone who has walked a shaded trail, listened to nature, or experienced sunrise or sunset on a trail understands why. Trails offer something rare in modern life: a chance to unplug from constant digital demands and reconnect with nature.

Strong Case

The health and quality-of-life benefits alone justify investment in trails and parks. But the economic case is even more compelling.

Analysis highlighted by Grist found that local parks generate roughly $3 in value for every $1 invested. That’s a return most communities would be thrilled to see from any public investment.

Returns show up in many ways. Property values tend to rise near trails. Outdoor tourism brings visitor spending to the town. Convenient access to places for exercise and mental renewal can lower health care costs.

Trails improve the quality of life, attract businesses, and help retain employees. Study after study shows that people want to live near a trail.

When communities invest in trails, they are not only building recreational amenities. They are creating infrastructure that supports public health, economic development, tourism, active transportation, and community vitality.

Americans Agree

Perhaps the most encouraging finding from the survey is that Americans understand this value.

Nearly nine out of ten adults agreed that communities should continue investing in affordable outdoor recreation so that everyone, regardless of income, can enjoy the benefits of parks, trails, and outdoor spaces.

That broad support crosses geographic, economic, and political boundaries because the benefits are widely shared. Trails don’t ask who you voted for. Parks don’t care about your income. Outdoor spaces belong to everyone.

Trails Matter

As a trail advocate, I often find myself explaining why a trail matters. The Trust for Public Land survey provides powerful evidence that the public already understands much of the answer.

Trails improve physical health. They support mental well-being. They strengthen social connections. They provide accessible recreation. They encourage active transportation. They boost local economies. They create places where communities come together.

Few public investments can claim such a wide range of benefits.

When communities invest in trails and parks, they aren’t spending money on amenities. They’re investing in healthier people, stronger neighborhoods, and vibrant local economies.

That’s not just good recreation policy. It’s good community building.

Beyond Pavement

If there is one lesson I hope elected officials, community leaders, and taxpayers take from this study, it is that public investments should be measured not only by what they cost, but by what they return.

In Ohio and across the nation, there’s a strong desire to reduce taxes and spend every public dollar wisely. That’s reasonable. When budgets are tight and competing priorities abound, decision-makers should ask this question: What investments deliver the greatest return for the people they serve?

Too often, that conversation focuses only on roads and highways. There is no question that cars are the primary means Americans travel and will always play a critical role in our transportation network.

As highways become more congested and harder to expand, communities should invest in transportation that improves the quality of life, supports local economies, and creates healthier places to live.

Trails Answer

The value of trails extends far beyond the pavement beneath our bike tires. Trails connect neighborhoods, support local businesses, improve public health, increase property values, attract visitors, and provide opportunities for recreation and transportation.

Trails are places where people exercise, gather with friends, experience nature, and reconnect with their communities. In many ways, they serve as the “third places” that strengthen the social fabric of our towns and cities.

Most people would choose an afternoon on a trail over sitting in traffic on a crowded highway. Trails offer something difficult to quantify but impossible to ignore: the opportunity to slow down, connect with the outdoors, and experience a higher quality of life.

Numbers Speak

According to the study, every public dollar invested in parks and outdoor recreation generates approximately three dollars in economic value, a 300% return. Few public investments can make a similar claim.

If you’re reading Tom on the Trails, chances are you already understand the value of trails. You’ve experienced firsthand how they improve communities, support local businesses, and enrich daily life.

I hope that these findings reach far beyond the outdoor recreation community and into the conversations taking place in city halls, county commissions, statehouses, and boardrooms across the country.

This study confirms something trail users have known for years.

Trails aren’t simply amenities. They’re infrastructure. They’re public health investments. They’re economic development tools. They’re community gathering places. And they make our towns and cities better places to live.

That’s a return worth investing in.

The Research

Trust for Public Land National Survey on Outdoor Public Spaces
https://www.tpl.org/parks-undeniable-roi-report

Grist article, “Your Local Park Is Bringing in the Green—and by That We Mean Money”
https://grist.org/cities/your-local-park-is-bringing-in-the-green-and-by-that-we-mean-money/

I’m 72 now, but I didn’t get back into cycling until about 20 years ago, after being away from it since I was a kid. A few years later, I found bicycle touring and fell in love. I tour today for what put me back on a bike twenty years ago: the adventure, the challenge, and the joy of getting out and seeing where the road ahead leads me.

One thing I hear all the time from people in their 50s, 60s, and 70s is, “I’m too old for that.” It usually comes up when someone asks where I’m headed or how far I’m going. They’re impressed and immediately count themselves out of the very thing they admire about me.

That doesn’t match what I see as a trail advocate, leader, and cyclist. I spend a lot of time on trails, especially my local Knox County Trails, which are part of the Ohio to Erie Trail network. The majority of people out there doing multi-day tours aren’t young. They’re older, with the time and freedom to experience life, and they’re clearly enjoying it.

I don’t buy the idea that age is the main thing holding people back. More often, it’s just a habit of thinking that way. With that in mind, here are some of the most common reasons people give for not trying a weeklong bike tour, and why they don’t hold up as well as they think.

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“I’m too old for that.”

This is, without a doubt, the most common thing I hear. People say this about a lot of things: starting over, traveling solo, learning new skills, and yes, riding a bicycle across a state.

But age is not really what they mean. Maybe it’s: “I’m nervous.” “I’m out of shape.” “I don’t know where to begin.” “I can’t do what I used to.” “I’ll look out of place.” Or even: “There are easier things I could do.”

What I’m hearing is internalized ageism, deciding ahead of time that you’re not capable at your age. Bicycle touring gets framed as something for the young, ultra-fit, endlessly energetic crowd climbing hills with ease, with gear strapped to high-end bikes.

Spend enough time on trails like the Ohio to Erie Trail, and you’ll see something different. People in their 60s and beyond are on their first multi-day tour. Retirees collecting memories instead of mileage stats. Cyclists stop for pie or ice cream because that’s part of life, too.

Bicycle touring isn’t about proving youth. It’s about curiosity and living an adventurous life. That’s open to anyone.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Let’s start with the truth: there is no one way or standard for what you’re supposed to do on a weeklong bicycle tour.

We’re used to attaching numbers to what we “should” be doing, especially age. But there’s no universal version of what 55, 65, or 75 is supposed to feel like.

You’re not “young for your age” because you go on a bike tour at 70. You’re 70, and you’re riding your bike. That’s all.

Saying “I feel 50” still suggests that younger is better. A better way to put it is, I feel alive. You feel interested. You feel open to something exciting and new. Those aren’t youthful traits; they’re human ones.

“I could never do a bike tour.”

Bicycle touring isn’t an extreme endurance event for most people. For some, yes, but not for most of us, including me.

You don’t need to ride 100 miles a day. You don’t need expensive gear. You don’t need to camp. And you don’t need to be fast. You just need to keep moving forward at your own pace, in your own way.

Maybe that means 35 miles a day and an afternoon exploring a small town or museum. Maybe it’s nights in hotels or Airbnb’s instead of camping. Maybe it’s an e-bike to make the miles more enjoyable. Maybe it’s sharing the experience with friends.

Your tour does not need to look like someone else’s social media version. That’s where a lot of people get stuck, trying to be a person they aren’t and never should be.

“I’m too old to change myself.”

One of the things long-distance cycling does is change you without you recognizing it. The person who starts a tour isn’t the same person who finishes it.

Your body adapts. What feels hard at first becomes routine. Confidence builds day by day. You accept help from strangers and fellow tourists. You notice more about yourself. You settle into a comfortable relationship with your bike and the outdoors.

You also rediscover something that gets buried over our adult lives: a sense of play. The freedom to explore just for fun, with no specific outcome other than having fun.

Somewhere along the way, we start believing we’re where we are meant to be and no longer need to change. We’ve reached the final version of ourselves. A bicycle tour pushes back on that idea. There’s no expiration date on growth and change.

“I don’t need more challenges in my life.”

It’s easy to think that later years should be about avoiding difficult things in life. To some extent, that’s fair, but we often confuse challenge with discomfort. That leads us to avoid both. Life needs both to feed on each other to live fully.

This isn’t new. It just sounds different now: “Maybe after I lose weight…” “Maybe after I get in better shape…” “Maybe after I get a better bike…”

At some point, those become habits instead of plans. You don’t need to be the perfect version of yourself. You don’t need to prove anything. You’re not chasing youth or outrunning age.

You tour because you’re still curious. That alone is reason enough.

“I don’t have the time.”

Time is another limit we tend to place on ourselves. It’s often said that retirement can be busier than our working years. That’s true, but it also comes down to understanding our priorities. A weeklong tour might not fit. But that doesn’t mean touring isn’t possible.

Start smaller. An overnight trip. An overnight to a nearby town. A couple of days on a trail, maybe a stretch of the Ohio to Erie Trail, a few hours away, you haven’t explored yet.

Touring grows from there. You figure out what works for you, how far you like to ride, how you like to travel, and what makes the days enjoyable.

Confidence doesn’t come from age. It comes from doing. Every experienced bicycle tourist was once someone wondering if they could.

Touring by Bike Does Not Care How Old You Are

Bicycle touring doesn’t care how old you are, how much experience you have, or how long it’s been since you last tried something new. It isn’t measured by speed, miles, gear, or your past.

The doubts people carry about age, ability, or whether they “fit” tend to matter a lot less once you’re out there. What matters is showing up and moving at a pace of life that is you.

What you gain is hard to find elsewhere. Traveling by bike slows life down just enough to help you notice what’s around you: the towns, the unexpected encounters, the changing landscape, and even the mistakes that teach and become the most memorable parts of the tour. Above all, a tour interrupts your routine in a refreshing way.

Rather than deciding you’re too old or unprepared, it may be more accurate to say you simply haven’t tried it yet.

The trail is out there, enticing you to start. Pick a section of the Ohio to Erie Trail, or another long-distance trail you’ve always been curious about. Load up your bike and head out for a couple of days.

You’ll catch the touring fever. You’ll be surprised by what’s waiting for you a few miles down the trail.

Happy Trails!
Tom on the Trails

In the summer of 2011, I stepped out of my comfort zone and into something I never imagined I could do. My friend Chuck and I headed out on our first bicycle tour, a week on the Great Allegheny Passage and the C&O Canal Towpath Trail. We cycled self-supported through western Pennsylvania and Maryland, carrying everything we needed on our bikes.

Up to that point, my cycling experience was weekly trail rides with friends, usually 20 to 30 miles at a time, no overnight stays, and no gear beyond a water bottle and snacks. Now, I was going to ride farther than I ever had before, hauling clothes, tools, and camping equipment. Intimidating!

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First Tour Fears

I’ve been thinking back to that first tour and the fears I had before setting out. Looking back, I realize most of the fears were perfectly normal. They are probably the same worries many people have when they think about touring for the first time.

There’s something vulnerable about heading into the unknown on two wheels. Social media and travel brochures show enticing nature and smiling faces. They don’t show the questions before the ride. What if I’m not strong enough? What if something breaks? What if I get lost? What if I don’t enjoy it?

Touring by bike is real life. The weather is unpredictable. The bad weather comes along with the ride. Mistakes are bound to happen. Those moments are also what make the touring experience memorable and meaningful. If you’ve been thinking about your first tour but fear is holding you back, here are 10 familiar worries and how to move past them.

1. I’m not in good enough shape.

This is likely the loudest fear for first-time bike tourists. Maybe you ride 10, 20, or 30 miles on the weekend and cannot imagine doing 50 miles day after day with gear on your bike. I understand that feeling. I had it too.

I learned from both cycling and running that if you are comfortable riding about 60 percent of the target daily distance, you can go farther than you think. If your goal is a 50-mile touring day and you regularly ride 30 miles comfortably, you likely can do just that.

Touring is not a race. You stop more often, for snacks and lunch, and to capture memories on your phone. As the days pass, your body adapts surprisingly quickly. Confidence builds one day at a time, and what once seemed impossible is possible.

2. I’m afraid it will be too hard.

This fear is easily solved with planning. First-time tourers tend to build ambitious itineraries, thinking they need to prove something. You don’t.

The smartest thing you can do is choose terrain that matches your comfort level. If you are not confident climbing steep hills, don’t pick a rolling route. That’s why rail trails and canal towpaths are good places for newbie bike tourists. Most have gentle grades, allowing you to focus on learning rather than surviving.

The first bike tour is where you learn whether you are a cyclist who tours or a tourist who cycles. Cyclists who tour enjoy long mileage days and the challenge. Tourists who cycle prefer shorter riding days, prioritizing the experience. I definitely fall into that second category these days.

Neither approach is wrong. You may favor a variation that’s some of both. That’s fine. You must plan a tour that fits the version that speaks to you.

3. I’m afraid I’ll get lost.

This was my biggest fear on my first solo European tour, being unfamiliar with foreign bicycle routes, languages, and customs. Touring alone, nobody else makes the navigation decisions or checks the map for you.

Technology makes touring much easier today. GPS devices and phone apps allow you to download and navigate routes. Many trail systems and cycling destinations offer excellent maps and guidebooks. Carry a printed guide or map as a backup in unfamiliar wilderness areas with spotty cell service.

Getting lost is part of the adventure. Some favorite touring memories came from accidental detours that led me to a photo-worthy scene and a chat with a local. Friendly faces more often pointed me in the right direction. Wrong turns become stories that live on for years after the tour.

4. I’m afraid I’ll have bike problems.

The most common problem with your bike is a flat tire. It’s bound to happen. I can pretty much guarantee it. Being prepared is the best way to reduce this fear.

Before your trip, practice changing the inner tube at home several times until you are comfortable. Pay special attention to removing and reinstalling the rear wheel, which can be intimidating. Carry a spare tube, tire levers, and a patch kit. They are lightweight, inexpensive, and worth every ounce.

Cyclists are incredibly generous and helpful. If you are trailside struggling with a flat, there is a good chance someone will stop and lend a helping hand. If you can’t fix a flat, it is wise to carry a patch kit and an extra inner tube for this reason.

Most other mechanical issues are rare. For major issues and unusual bike malfunctions, know where bike shops are located along your route.

5. I’m afraid I’ll pack wrong.

Every first-time bike tourist overpacks. Every single one. You will do it on every tour you take. Fifteen years in, I am guilty of this touring sin.

Start with the basics: clothing, tools, chargers, toiletries, and camping gear if you plan to camp. You need to tame “what if” thinking. Overplanning for every what-if scenario adds weight to an overloaded, harder-to-pedal bike.

The best approach is to make a packing list and refine it, over and over. Ask yourself honestly whether you really need each item. You likely don’t need four cycling jerseys or multiple pairs of shoes. It’s unusual not to have places to wash clothes and buy snacks, drinks, or forgotten items.

How will your days play out? Do you want to cook and set up camp each night and break it down in the morning? Would you rather travel light and stay in Airbnb’s or hotels? There is no correct answer. If camping overwhelms you, it’s wise to start with an inn-to-inn route that builds confidence.

6. I’m worried about the weather.

Rain is part of bicycle touring. If you tour long enough, you are going to get wet.

The key is realizing a little rain doesn’t ruin the experience; sometimes becoming part of the adventure. Days of cold, nonstop rain are another story. Pay attention to seasonal weather and the 10-day forecast. Bring the right layers, pack a rain jacket, and prepare for changing conditions.

Headwinds are a challenge every touring cyclist faces. Riding into a strong one makes a climb seem like an all-day uphill battle with wind. With experience, you develop the steady pace that moves you forward and upward.

7. I’m worried about my safety.

Safety concerns are valid and real. Trails are a great way to start bicycle touring because they minimize traffic interactions and challenges. Back road cycling routes avoid cities, tend to be safe, but require an understanding of traffic laws and defensive cycling.

Safety starts with preparation. Wear a helmet. After a few spills over the years, I’m convinced mine prevented serious injury. Use bright lights, lock your bike when you stop, and stay alert to your surroundings. Keep your loaded bike in sight whenever possible and limit the time away from it.

Most importantly, trust your instincts. If a place or situation does not feel right, listen to that feeling. Don’t let fear convince you that the world is entirely dangerous. Most people you encounter while touring are kind, curious, and helpful.

8. I’m afraid something bad will happen.

This fear pops up when you are looking at remote stretches of trail or rural roads. What happens if I crash? What if my bike becomes unrideable? What if I am exhausted and simply cannot continue?

Self-reliance, realizing you’re more capable than you think, is part of bicycle touring. Carry a fully charged phone with a navigation app, a GPS device with your route, and battery packs. Make a habit of recharging at lunch.

Route planning eases anxiety. Know the towns, campgrounds, restaurants, grocery stores, and bike shops along your route. Breaking the day mentally into smaller sections makes life on the bike more manageable. Ten miles to the next town is far less intimidating than 10 more miles in the middle of nowhere.

9. I’m afraid I’ll be lonely.

A lot of first-time tourists worry about loneliness and safety.

What surprised me about solo touring was how rarely I felt alone. Locals and fellow cyclists offer a wave or a friendly hello as they pass by. Conversations are common in diners and coffee shops. Some of the best memories come from those unexpected connections with people met on the tour.

If you camp, choose popular campgrounds with good reviews. Avoid isolated primitive camping until you gain more experience and comfort. Warmshowers and Hipcamp offer camping in homes or yards.

Touring and cycling communities, both online and in person, offer valuable advice, encouragement, and sometimes even riding partners. A local bike club is often a great place to begin. Bike tourists love to help newbies.

10. I’m afraid I won’t enjoy it.

That uncertainty is completely normal. Setting out on a first tour, there’s a mix of both excitement and doubt. You are stepping into something unfamiliar while hoping it is everything you dreamed of.

Honestly, not every moment is magical. There are difficult miles, uncomfortable weather, sore legs, and more than a few frustrations. Remember that your first tour is not about being the perfect bike tourist. You don’t need state-of-the-art gear, perfect planning, or unwavering confidence.

The real goal is to learn. You learn what kind of rider you are, what speaks to you on the road or trail, and how capable you actually are. That translates to developing your unique touring style.

If the touring experience speaks to you, everything changes afterward. You look at maps differently. Trails and roads become invitations to explore instead of being distant, unknown places.

This starts with your first tour.

If you are a reader of Tom on the Trails, there’s a good chance you already love cycling, trails, exploration, and the outdoors. Bicycle touring brings all of those things together.

Your first tour doesn’t need to be a week. It can be three days or even a simple overnight close to home. What matters is that it is the beginning.

After the first tour, you come home more confident, less afraid, and more curious about where the next tour leads you. On the next tour, you pack lighter, ride farther, stay longer, and worry less. It only gets better every time.

All this because you decided to take that first tour.

Happy Trails!
Tom on the Trails

Every May, National Bike Month rolls around with community events like Bike to Work Week and Bike to School Day. These rides and all their local variations trace back to 1956, when the League of American Wheelmen (now the League of American Bicyclists) encouraged more people to get on a bike.

Today, it’s become much more. Beyond the reminder of riding, it reminds us of what cycling once meant to us. For most of us, the bicycle didn’t begin as exercise or transportation. It was pure freedom.

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Finding Adventure on my Bike

In the 1960s, my sister and I were just kids on our Huffys. I grew up outside Alliance, Ohio, along a rural, two-lane stretch of US Route 62. The call of the nearby city was hard to resist. Before long, we found ourselves pedaling into city neighborhoods, widening our world with every adventure.

My mother wouldn’t have approved of how far we went if only she knew. Those were the days when being outside was what kids did. We cycled stealthily in the time before video games and mobile phones. The thrill of the ride was pushing beyond the edge of our everyday lives.

Today, that same stretch of US Route 62 is five busy lanes, farms replaced by shops and restaurants. As the city grew, so did I. I traded two wheels for four with a motor and left the bike behind. That first taste of pre-teen independence and discovery never left; it went quiet for a while.

The Bike in the Garage

Like a lot of people, cycling didn’t stay with me through every chapter of life. There were long stretches when my bike hung from the garage ceiling, coming down only for the occasional ride on a beach vacation. That childhood sense of discovery on the bike was yet to be rediscovered.

In 2009, after surviving a heart attack and struggling with obesity, I realized I needed to improve my health. The joy and sense of freedom of those bike rides from my youth spoke to me and urged me to start cycling again. Memories led to a new life direction.

I vividly remember that first time I returned to the saddle. Eight miles on the Ohio & Erie Canal Towpath Trail in Akron was more than a vacation beach ride. This time, it was everything about the outdoors and the people. People pedaling, walking, running, cycling, and enjoying the freedom of discovery!

It was challenging, rewarding, and relaxing. Something stirred me that I hadn’t felt since the 1960s. A sense of discovery. A sense of possibility. I was hooked.

The Bike Found Its Way Back

That first ride didn’t end when I stepped off the bike. It led to another, and then another, as cycling found its way back into my life.

What started as a step toward better health became rides with friends, followed by a meetup group of casual trail cyclists. Before I knew it, cycling opened a door I never expected: bicycle touring.

My first weeklong tour on the Great Allegheny Passage and the Chesapeake & Ohio Canal Towpath was exhilarating and a life-changer. By the end of that week, I understood what had changed inside. Discovering the world by bike was where I belonged. That belonging continues and grows to this day.

Retired, that door opened even wider. I explored more of the United States and Europe by bike, guided by that same curiosity that started decades earlier in Alliance. Cycling wasn’t new; it was simply waiting for my return.

Expanding the Cycling Circle

One of the most meaningful shifts I’ve seen over the years is in who is invited to ride. E-bikes opened the door of discovery wider. The assistance of the e-bike welcomed people who thought their riding days were behind them or who never imagined themselves on a bike at all.

I’ve seen that change personally, and I’ve come to embrace it. E-bikes aren’t diminishing cycling. They’re expanding it by extending the invitation to more people to experience freedom, improved health, and mental well-being through connections to the outdoors.

A child’s first pedal-powered ride is unforgettable; balancing, pushing ahead, and mastering movement become lasting memories. Before using an e-bike, children should experience the benefits of pedaling for themselves. My younger days taught me that.

The Power of Inclusion

These days, what I see is different in the best way. The cycling community has opened its arms wider. More people are showing up with different backgrounds, abilities, and kinds of bikes, reflecting who they are.

Cycling looks a little different for every person who swings a leg over a bike. If you ride a bike, you are a cyclist. Some riders move fast, chasing miles. Others take their time, soaking it all in. Young riders, older riders. People riding solo, and people just enjoying life. What matters is that they’re sharing the same path.

I’ve seen that same spirit across the world, too. In Europe, kids ride to school together, bikes lined up outside the schoolyard like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Because there, it is. Cycling isn’t separate from daily life but is woven into it.

And here at home, I see hope in us moving in that direction. Not fast, but steadily. That is why we must celebrate National Bike Month.

Connecting Across Generations

The most meaningful moments on my bike weren’t about distance or destination. They’ve been about connections. I see connections across ages growing wider, visible, and welcoming in my county.

Through Knox County’s Happy Spokes, part of the Cycling Without Age movement, I’ve seen people who thought cycling days were behind them feel the wind on their faces. You can see the memories return, the spark reignited. Past good times come back on the trishaw, even if it’s just for a ride.

There are moments like the newly launched Bike Bus in Mount Vernon. Kids ride to school with their parents. Neighbors wave and cheer from the sidewalks. It’s nostalgic and joyful, and it bridges generations; that’s new and familiar at the same time.

What the Bike Gave Me

At 72, I can see more clearly what the bike has given me over the years. It’s been one of the most constant threads in my life, even during the years when I wasn’t cycling.

It gave me independence before I understood the word. It gave me direction when I needed it most. It gave me a community when I didn’t know I was looking for one. Maybe most importantly, it gave me a way to keep rediscovering the world and myself, again and again.

The Invitation That Never Expires

This National Bike Month, I’m not just encouraging you to ride. I’m inviting you to remember.

Remember where your first bike took you. Remember how it felt to go just a little farther than you planned. Remember the version of yourself who believed the road ahead was always worth exploring.

That version of you is still there. And the bike? It’s still waiting. Not to take you somewhere entirely new, but to help you rediscover everything that’s been there all along.

Happy National Bike Month.
Tom on the Trails

There’s a revolution outside, beyond your front door, on trails, waiting to be discovered. Some find it on bikes, others on foot, and some push strollers or walk dogs.

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We celebrate trails because they heal.

For many, trails are where life begins again. It might be after a health diagnosis, work burnout, or realizing that it’s time to take better care of yourself. Trails offer a place to breathe and clear the mind. Trails offer a reset to the body and mind, easing the weight of everyday life.

We celebrate trails because they move us.

Trails aren’t just for play; they’re practical. Trails are an alternative way to commute to work, pick up groceries, and travel to appointments. When we invest in trails, they give us a healthier and more enjoyable way to reduce congestion and lower stress. Travel becomes an experience.

We celebrate trails because they connect us.

On a trail, a nod, a wave, or a brief chat reminds us that we’re part of something bigger. Trails erase boundaries that divide. They are spaces where people of different backgrounds and perspectives coexist. Trails build connection and understanding, and that unites a community.

We celebrate trails because they expand our world.

Trails carry us beyond our neighborhoods to places we’ve passed a hundred times, just waiting to be discovered. They widen our view, helping us see beyond where we live and into a broader world of people, places, and perspectives.

We celebrate trails because they spark vitality.

Trails guide us to coffee, lunch, and the Main Street of unique shops. They spark renewed energy and business there. What was a brief stop becomes a reason to linger, discovering communities as they grow, prosper, and rediscover themselves.

We celebrate trails because they motivate us.

A walk or bike ride becomes a habit, builds confidence, or uncovers a new passion. The trail has a way of helping us discover who we are. Spending time on the trail reshapes how we see ourselves and expands what we see as possible. It happens with that first footstep or pedal stroke.

We celebrate trails because they reflect us.

Trails improve our health, connect us, and invite us to explore something new. They reflect our routines, stories, and shared experiences. They weave identities of places and people, helping us see ourselves in others. Trails are reflections of who we are, and who we’re becoming together.

We celebrate trails because they need us.

Trails can’t speak for themselves. When decisions are made about budgets, funding, and priorities, trails can be overlooked as only places to walk the dog, ride a bike, or go for a run. But their value runs much deeper.

Every time we step onto a trail, we write a chapter of a story that deserves to be shared. By telling that story, we make trails more visible, valued, and essential.

Elected officials, community leaders, and the people around us need to hear and see those stories, especially in today’s political and economic climate. That’s why we must celebrate them visibly, and why they matter.

It All Comes Together on Celebrate Trails Day

Across the country, people gather each spring for Celebrate Trails Day. It’s a glimpse of how these eight reasons, and many not named, are possible for all of us and those who are yet to discover the magic and transformative power of trails.

This coming Saturday, April 25, you can experience it for yourself. Communities nationwide will host events as part of Celebrate Trails Day. You can find one near you through the Rails to Trails Conservancy website.

Show up if you are a frequent trail visitor, curious to explore the outdoors, seeking new friends or a change in life, or looking to be more involved in your community. You are not alone, and you belong on the trail.

Celebrate with me in Mount Vernon.

I’ll be at the Knox County Celebrate Trails Day at the Mount Vernon CA&C Depot Visitor Center. The day offers a chance to explore the trails, parks, and downtown, and learn about the depot’s railroad history and how the railroad and trail shaped Mount Vernon today.

I would love to meet you there. Join me at 1:00 pm for a trail talk: Explore Ohio by Trail: Day Trips to Week-Long Adventures on Ohio trails to inspire you to plan your next trip.

Knox County is launching Happy Spokes, a Cycling Without Age chapter that uses trishaws to share the joy of cycling and the outdoors with people who might not otherwise have access to it. These trishaws bring belonging and happiness to people through the memories they make on the trails.

Step outside. Try the trail. See what it gives you. You’ll find something that stays with you long after you leave.