In June 2020, just after the start of covid, I and apparently countless others invested in an ebike. I chose a Surface 604, designed by some highly esteemed bike nerds in Lower British Columbia. It’s been awesome. My buddy Mitch finally threw down the gauntlet to join the club a few weeks ago. Since I’ve been so happy with mine, he decided to snag one himself.
In case you don’t know it, “604” is the main area code for greater Vancouver. “Surface,” I think, just has a nice ring to it. I failed to ask about the etymology of the name, but at least there’s no confusing these bikes with aerial or sub-surface vehicles.
My bud’s shiny new bike arrived in a box. Together we screwed on the pedals, attached the handlebars and a couple of thisses and thats, as the heap of parts in his living room quickly became a bike. When he hopped aboard, all seemed well at first. Then it was, oh crap, the power assist cut out. Probably something simple, but whatever it was, it was above our pay grades.
Mitch returned the bike to the warehouse in Richmond, and after consulting with the super-nice people there, opted to swap it for a smiliar model. Yesterday we drove back up to our favorite foreign country to retrieve the new one, right after scoring an excellent dim sum brunch at Sun Sui Wah.
Phil and Jason had his new bike relaxing on its kickstand right in the doorway, ready to ride. We ogled the wares and chatted a bit about the state of affairs between our two great countries, one of which seems to be afflicted with a bad case of rank stoopidity. We apologized on behalf of sane people everywhere, and assured them we’d come in peace.
More importantly, however, I needed a new headlight for my own Surface 604, a Colt they call it. Well, not only did I secure a new light, the guys also fixed my rear light (I’d somehow pulled the wire loose), gave me a new mirror, adjusted the handlebars for a better fit, then knocked out an unscheduled tune-up at a very fair price. We came away feeling like this truly is a company that believes in the happy customer bit about getting things right. (Not a paid plug here, by the way, just sharing our experience.)
Eager to ride, we next drove over to Garry Point Park on the other side of town. It’s the main southern access for the West Dyke Trail, and a pretty ideal spot to lounge around, walk the mutt or catch a sunset. We saddled up for Mitch’s first significant cruise on his new machine and embarked on a 14-mile test run along the dike trail. All was perfect! No electrical burps this time, and Mitch had officially joined the club.
And for me, I’d discovered a new trail. The smooth and level, packed-gravel path runs along this Fraser River dike (or dyke) and looks west out to Georgia Strait and across the water to greater Vancouver and the Coastal Range. Sidepaths lead to nearby parks and natural areas. Plenty of other folks, mostly on foot, were also out enjoying the sunshine, despite a cool breeze blowing in from the north.
Near the park, we also checked out Steveston on the southwest side of Richmond. Despite all the years I’d lived less than an hour away, I didn’t even know this place existed. It’s a quaint area of shops, eateries, boardwalk and working waterfront that’s enticing to explore, though perhaps better as a pedestrian than a biker. A number of historic buildings are preserved here, including the Britannia Shipyards and Gulf of Georgia Cannery National Historic Sites. We politely walked our bikes through the more picturesque parts and I swore to return with Kris for a much deeper dive.
In any case, if you haven’t checked them out already, add the West Dyke and Steveston to your list of enticing Pacific Northwest travel destinations. It’s darned charmin’, with or without the ebike.
Excellent read! Congrats on the new ride, Mit h!