We decided to conquer the famed Swamp Rabbit Trail in Greenville, SC — all 36 miles of it, round trip. The intel we dug up online promised “mostly flat,” which sounded harmless enough to two Florida riders who thought flat meant flat. Spoiler: it wasn’t. About three miles in, my lungs and legs were already staging a protest. Kylie, naturally, wanted to go the whole way to Furman University and on to Traveler’s Rest. Me? I was just trying not to die.
But the weather was beautiful, the humidity low, and the trail itself was worth it. Tree-lined stretches, quiet neighborhoods, and the occasional fellow traveler kept us pushing forward. Lunch became the carrot on the stick, though of course the first places we picked were closed. We finally landed at The Commons, and it was perfect. Tapas at Paseo, a couple of cold Estrella beers, and we were recharged. Almost enough to keep up with Kylie. Almost.
We pushed a bit further, nearly making it to Furman before I admitted defeat. The ride back was exactly what I feared — a long, slow, sweaty grind that left even Kylie winded. That trail taught us something important: if I’m going to keep up with Kylie, especially with the dogs in tow, I need some kind of mechanical miracle.
Back at camp, we started researching electric options. I loved my trusty Jamis Hudson — comfortable, reliable, but turning it electric was going to be a headache and expensive. In the end, the choice was clear: buy a purpose-built e-bike. Enter the Pedego City Commuter Platinum. Shiny, powerful, and promising the kind of pedal assist that would let me ride without feeling like I was about to cough up a lung. It was love at first test ride.
Armed with my new toy, we loaded up the dogs and set off for the Doodle Trail, which stretches about 8 miles from Easley to Pickens. The day was again perfect, so we buckled the dogs into their trailers; Benny the Adventure Dog ready for action, Hippy looking like he was in prison transport, and hit the trail.
The difference was night and day. With pedal assist, I glided along, keeping pace with Kylie even while towing Benny. She handled Hippy, uphill stretches and all, with her usual determination. The trail itself was a joy: gentle grades, scenic farmland, and a fantastic overlook near Pickens where we stopped to catch our breath (well, where Kylie caught hers, I still had half a battery to burn). We snapped photos of the dogs in their carts, Benny with his ears back like he was leading the charge, Hippy sulking like he’d been robbed of parole.
That ride sealed it. For the first time, I wasn’t limping through the journey or dreading the return trip. I was actually enjoying the ride, the company, and even the chaos that comes with carting two dogs behind bicycles. The electric assist didn’t just keep me in the game, it made me feel like I finally belonged in it. Mayhem, meet momentum.