I Flew Across the Country for a 30-Minute Date with a Robot

A few months back, my friend Eric asked me if I would nip across to San Francisco and back with him in a day to test ride a Verge Motorcycle. He was considering adding one of these bikes to his growing stable of motorcycles, having just built a huge new garage to store them. We both live just outside of DC in Virginia, so San Francisco is physically across the other side of the country for us, with flight times that are usually between five and six hours each way depending on the weather.

I knew my geography, but I had never heard of these Verge motorcycles and wondered why they didn’t have a test-ride bike a little closer to home. Turns out, they are a Finnish brand that has "reinvented the wheel" for electric motorcycles—their slogan, not mine. They had selected California as the initial destination to break into the US market. Intrigued and always up for an adventure, I signed up to go. The week before, Eric had to pull out of the test ride, so we were down to a single pilot: me.

Saturday 11 April rolls around and my 4:20 am Uber ride to the airport for a 6:30 am flight hit the first snag when the crew taking me across the country couldn’t even be bothered to pitch up for the flight. A relaxing hour-and-a-half delay finally saw the flight board just after 8:00 am. Six hours later, I arrived in San Francisco at 11:00 am local time, only to be informed by the Verge team that the weather was not conducive to test riding an unfamiliar electric bike with over 700 lb-ft of torque (10 x that of my Triumph T120) on wet roads with storms in the local area. It was an argument I had no defense against.

However, as my return flight was not until 9:00 pm, I had plenty of time to wait—if they did. Turns out the weather, although unsettled, was about to get worse at 4:00 pm, but there was a slight window of opportunity around 2:00 pm. As I had traveled so far and had all my riding gear with me already, I agreed with the Verge team to meet at the test-ride site at 1:00 pm to do some bike familiarization and assess the weather at the time. I jumped into my second Uber of the day and raced 40 miles in a classic California Tesla, getting there at 12:30 pm.

That 30 minutes turned out to be a critical advantage. The roads were drying, but the clouds were getting darker overhead. Having got familiar with the bike in the car park, we set off around the roads of San Jose for a 30-minute test ride. It was one of the most intense, but enjoyable, test rides I have ever done. The Verge I rode was a Gen 1 in yellow, because yellow bikes are faster. The Verge is a masterpiece of engineering that feels like it was designed by a team that loves you, but also kind of wants to see if it can kill you.

This bike has four modes—or rather, the bike has four personality traits. You select the mode depending on your pulse rate and how much you value your life. Fortunately, you can switch between modes as you are riding, just in case you select the wrong one for the conditions. First up is Custom Mode, the lowest torque setting of the four. The throttle is very forgiving and there is no "regen" from the drive motor—"regen" being the Gucci term used by electric bike riders for engine braking. This mode feels like a normal twin-cylinder 650cc motorcycle, or even a two-stroke, because there is no regen when you roll off. It can best be characterized as "Quick Lite." The next two modes were very similar in the short time I had the bike: Zen and Range Modes. These are the "civilized" modes. They are fast, but they won't leave you standing at a green light wondering where your bike went if you are a little bit quick on the throttle. These can be characterized simply as "Quick 1" and "Quick 2." Then there is Beast Mode. This isn’t a ride mode at all; it’s a survival test. The throttle and regen are so aggressive they’re not really usable in town traffic as the bike is jerky, due in part to the lack of electronic restraint. But on the highway? It’s pure, unadulterated insanity. It is genuinely terrifying and requires actual talent—or a complete lack of a survival instinct—to master. I can’t even characterize this mode because I never felt I found the top end of the operational boundary.

Other than the acceleration I experienced from flying in a military fast jet aircraft or my short stint driving a Formula Ford racing car around Silverstone, this is probably the quickest thing I have ever sat on from a standing start to whatever mph. When you whack the throttle open in this mode, the entire world turns into a pixelated blur and the last thing you want to be distracted with is looking at your speed. Three of the four modes put a grin on your face; Beast Mode generates a "Ghostface."

The bike’s seat height of 30.71 inches was low enough that I was flat-footed with a slight knee bend, which is perfect for holding a 518 lb bike with a low center of gravity. This combination builds confidence right before the bike tries to tear your arms out of their sockets. The riding position itself is upright and spot-on for me, being more an adventure bike rider than a sports bike jockey. Once you get rolling, the two sets of footpegs allow you to either cruise like a lazy Sunday tourist or crouch down and pretend you’re hunting for a GP podium finish.

The small but very comfy seat, along with the Brembo brakes and Öhlins shocks, makes the bike handle and brake like an absolute dream—provided that your dream consists entirely of traveling in a perfectly straight line. The 240/45/ZR17 rear dragster tire is so wide that the bike has developed a physical phobia of leaning. Entering a corner feels less like "flickable geometry" and more like "wrestling a greased pig into a bathtub." However, the moment you straighten up and whack the throttle open, arm and grip strength become your limiting factor.

There is no rear foot brake, and a few times I instinctively pulled in the "clutch" at traffic lights, which simply whacked on the rear brake. Truth is that on Range and Zen modes around town, you don’t really need the brakes if you ride conservatively; the regen is enough to bring you to a stop. About 10 minutes before the end of the test ride, it had started to spit a little rain, and within 10 minutes after the ride, it just pissed down. We had made the only available weather window for the day.

Debriefing Larsen, my Verge test-ride buddy, I told him I had flown all the way from DC just for this and was heading straight back to the airport. He gave me a look that suggested he was considering calling a mental health professional. I didn’t have the heart to tell him he was probably right. I texted Eric on the way back to the airport in my third Uber of the day with my verdict: I loved it and yellow was my favorite, but the Metallic Blue ridden by Larsen looked "I own a private jet" expensive.

I arrived back at the airport around 3:00 pm, but my flight was not until 9:00 pm. The weather had turned nasty and the rainstorms were heavy. My Platinum Status with United came in handy and they got me on an earlier (but delayed) flight departing at 6:00 pm. We landed at 2:15 am in Dulles—a time usually reserved for ghosts and people who regret their life choices. My fourth Uber of the day got me home around 3:00 am, a mere 23 hours after I left the house. I was that specific kind of exhausted where you don’t know if you want to poop or go for a haircut. Would I do it again? Absolutely!