There and Back Again . . . On Three Wheels

I made it all the way from the Ohio River to Lake Erie on the OTET (Ohio to Erie Trail) in 2024. I finished the journey on November 13. The trip was a blast, especially the last 2/3 of it.

That’s because I had discovered the way to bikepack. All it took was adding one more wheel to my ride.

Friends have asked about the trip, with more questions about the trike than about the trail. I’m writing this with those questions in mind.

I don’t know exactly when the search for a recumbent three-wheeler started, but it wasn’t long after my two-day bike trip on the OTET from Xenia to London, Ohio, and back.  Sitting that long on a two-wheeler seat is not comfy. In fact, it’s painful. And bikers, especially seniors, display that pain. They can’t stifle the grimace that gradually appears on their face, or the unsteady dismount at the end of a long day.

After starting my trip on the OTET, though, I noticed that some seniors we met coming the opposite direction were smiling—even at the end of the day. Most of them had something in common: they were riding three-wheeled recumbent trikes.

I ride with my friend George and we both got the hint about the same time. We decided to get those smiley bikes ourselves. We’d finish the last 2/3 of the OTET with grins, too.

We started test-riding trikes at every shop that would let us on one. I almost bought the first trike I rode. It was used, but it was a pretty neon color. And even prettier was the electric-assist on it. I zoomed around the parking lot of the bike shop. I explored some of the back streets in that neighborhood. I’d almost forgotten that this wasn’t mine.

Before I took this joyride, though, the honest entrepreneur told me the company that made the e-assist for that trike went bankrupt a few years earlier. It was something to ponder. But when I test out anything pretty with wheels, I can find a thousand ways to minimize any negatives. The battery and motor would most likely last for years.

I was perspiring when I walked back into the store. It wasn’t that hot of a day. And I knew it couldn’t be from pedaling hard because I hadn’t. My credit card even seemed to be sweating in my wallet. But I somehow managed to leave with no purchase. I noticed, though, it took two days for my credit card to cool back down.

I told myself I might buy the bike if it was there at the end of the month. Well . . . it was. But by then I had decided not to get the e-assist. For me, having a motor on the OTET would make the journey less of a feat and more of a joyride. Not a good way to rack up man points.

I visited other shops. I rode all the different makes and models that the dealers would let me. I felt as indecisive as the squirrels that flitted about on the OTET.  I kept holding off buying because I wanted to see what George would buy. I think he was waiting to see what I would buy. These trikes aren’t cheap and neither of us wanted to experience thousands of dollars of buyer’s remorse.

I finally found my trike at a shop near Columbus. Something told me when I walked in the door that day that the time was right. Especially since I’d been looking for two months now and if I didn’t get busy the snow would be flying by the time I made it to Lake Erie. (Actually, when I finally got there it was.)

I saw it my second lap around the store. A rare used trike displayed along with the new. It was $1,000-$1,500 less than some of the new ones. And it looked like new, even though it was at least 10 years old.

It already had been equipped with a custom rack, custom bags, and two mirrors. And it fit in my Honda element with an inch to spare.

I rode around in the back lot for at least a half hour, but I knew—and I think the salesman did too—that it was a done deal. Over two hundred dollars worth of additional accessories, which included riding shoes and a flag, and I was out the door. I got a good deal on the bike. The orange flag was a rip off, but I just wanted to be ready to ride the second I got home. Lake Erie, here I come. Oh yeah, George still needed to buy one. But it didn’t happen that day.

Soon as I got it home, I rode it up and down my street. I found that my Tidy Cat saddlebags fit perfectly on the back rack. So would Bonnie, but she showed no interest in getting a ride.

I broke the $30 fiberglass flagpole trying to fit it into the holder on the rack.

About a week later my phone beeped and I clicked on George’s new trike: a neon yellow Cattrike Villager. I was instantly envious. In fact, I had almost bought one like it. The seat is more upright than mine and is easier to get on and off of. Mine is more reclined and designed for slightly faster speed. 

It’s not that I plan to race it or anything. But to my surprise, I was able to keep up handily with another friend on his two-wheeler on a test ride at Lunken Park the next week. That was one of the big questions I was wondering about.

We got back to the OTET on September 7 and rode from London to Columbus and back, over 52 miles. We easily rode 10-12 miles per hour. Once, I got up to 18 before I remembered we weren’t racing.

A trike is much more stable than a two-wheeler. That day, I barreled through a part of the trail littered with walnuts, with nothing more than a few jolts. My two-wheeler would’ve probably been lying on the ground, and so would I, covered with walnut stains and asphalt burns.

There was no grimacing when I rode. No limping when I dismounted. And I realized that there was a chance of making it to the lake before the year was over.

We went a couple of weeks later to work our way up through Columbus and beyond to Glenmont. I wasn’t too excited about riding through downtown Columbus. There may have been signs to follow, but I’m not too good at seeing them. Luckily George had a map on his phone to guide us along. We rode a mile or so on the sidewalks until we came to a sign that said it was illegal to ride bikes on the sidewalks. Then we got back out on the road. And that is where one of the disadvantages of a recumbent trike made itself clear.

Trikes are only about half as tall as a standard bicycle. Even with flags (I had improvised a better and cheaper flag and pole) and lights mounted on the pole, I don’t feel as safe as I do when I’m on a bicycle. (I don’t even always feel safe on a bicycle on city streets.)

We were still using our strategy of staging our vehicles and riding 20-plus miles out and back to our vehicles each day, which meant we had to ride through Columbus twice. Nothing against Columbus. It’s a beautiful city. I was glad, though, when I was through with it.

One of my favorite towns on the trail is Centerburg, which we reached the next day. It’s located at the geographical center of Ohio. And it just happens to be approximately the midpoint of the OTET. Centerburg has a great selection of kolaches, tasty pastries I first discovered that day.

Most of the OTET is flat—until you get to Son of a Gun Hill. Apparently at this point we weren’t following a rail bed or a canal path.

We pedaled up a curvy, two-mile ascent, followed by a steep two-mile descent down to Glenmont. There we turned around and went up the hill again. Its name is fitting. My trike was capable, but I had to gear very low and pedal cartoonishly fast. 

Going down was an adventure—without pedaling! I must’ve been going over 20 miles per hour most of the way, with the trike holding its own around the corners. I didn’t feel at any time that I was at the tipping point. Don’t take my word for it, though; maybe I was closer to flipping than I knew.

We had a decision to consider from Glenmont north, which we would tackle on the next trip up later in October. Seven road miles lay ahead. George had previously scouted them out. There was not much of a berm to ride on. In his opinion, it was definitely not trike-friendly. 

This is where the height and the width of the trikes concerned us. Even with flags and lights, I don’t feel I’m as visible as when I’m on a two-wheeler. And with the width, it’s harder to get off the road when cars are passing. George and I would discuss this more before we went back up to ride again.

We drove up again later in October. Yes, we decided to skip those miles. As well as 17 more dicey road miles farther up the trail. This probably cost some man points I had accumulated earlier by refusing the e-assist trike, but I bounced back quickly and enjoyed the rest of the trail up through Amish country and into Canal Fulton. We were now on the former Ohio and Erie Canal Towpath. 

In November, we made what we hoped would be our last trip to northern Ohio. We camped at a state park in the area. To complete the trail both ways we would need to log around 130 miles. That’s averaging over 40 miles a day on trails that were mostly crushed gravel.

This has been a long article and you probably want to get to the end of the OTET as much as I did, so I’ll finish it up with just three things that come to mind on that last stretch.

The first is the crushed-gravel trails. They slowed us down a little, but they weren’t a big factor to me in the ride. Even though there had been a lot of rain the day before, almost all of the gravel trails proved very rideable. As I recall, the hills we encountered on those stretches were paved.

Secondly, I was pleasantly surprised by the scenery between Akron and Cleveland. We went through scenic parks, small towns, and countryside. We had no big issues riding through those two large cities, either.

And finally, the cold weather we experienced. Since we tried to start at sunrise each morning, we usually encountered a thick layer of frost along the trail. I looked like a reclining Michelin man as I sliced through the frigid air. But the cold didn’t matter. I was on a mission. 

Two months after the fact, my bike is stored in the basement. Mission complete. George asked one day recently if I wanted to ride. I saw that the weather was only in the 30s and declined. To which George replied that he was relieved. He’d thought I might actually accept!

Next year I might try riding the trail straight through. I would probably start in Cleveland. I’m estimating seven or eight days, and I’ve got a head start on figuring out where to camp along the trail. After all, now I can say I’ve already done (almost) all of it. Twice.