The Safest Way to Risk It All: Why Ride an Electric Unicycle?

I’m riding 40 mph on my electric unicycle, and I’m wondering to myself: Why? Why? Am I trying to kill myself?

Look, there’s no doubt about it—this is a dangerous hobby. We’re riding electric-powered machines with enough horsepower to keep us upright, as long as we’re moving forward. There’s no time to think, just go!

I love riding fast. But there are moments when I pause and consider the danger. What happens if the machine suddenly stops while I’m moving at full speed—especially in traffic, on a road, right in the middle of my city?

In retrospect, there’s no simple answer, except that I feel good. I feel alive. I feel safe in my own way.

As I think about it now, writing about the experience of blazing along on my Sherman S electric unicycle, I ask myself: Should I keep riding? And again, the answer is yes.

It’s not out of ignorance or lack of understanding of the risks. Of course, I wear all the protective gear I know might—or might not—save me from serious injury. I do my best. I ride because this is who I am.

I’m a rebel when it comes to most things. I’m the guy who sees a sign that says “Do not step on the grass,” and I’m tempted to step on it. If there are rules, I’ll push them. I understand authority, and I respect it. But there are certain aspects of our culture here in the Western world (I live in the United States) that I don’t agree with or give much thought to.

And I don’t have a reason for it, except that it’s baked into my personality.

It was serendipitous that I discovered the electric unicycle during the COVID pandemic. Before I knew these machines existed, I was a cyclist, a mountain biker—anything that let me go fast, alone. There’s a peace in being alone, doing something many people wouldn’t dare.

During the pandemic, the isolation was oddly liberating. Freed from routines, from the normal workday, from the social circles I used to run in, I found space to discover new things. The electric unicycle became a natural meld of technology, thrill, and rebellion, wrapped up in a 60-pound King Song 16X.

Made in China, shipped to the United States, and purchased from eWheels—my first electric unicycle was freedom itself.

Now, post-pandemic, the world has reopened. A new normal has emerged, but here I am, still loving this machine that opened the gate to a community of like-minded subculture enthusiasts.

You know, there are no real rules or regulations for electric unicycles in most places. We don’t need permits or registration. Honestly, you can ride them almost anywhere—bike trails, random fire roads, mountain tracks, or just your backyard. They go wherever your skill can take them.

Maybe this is an American thing—being an individual, blazing a trail, embracing the freedom to be who you want to be—but it’s also universal.

Why jump out of an airplane as a skydiver? It’s neither cheap nor safe, yet people do it. Why climb Mount Everest? The answer is always, “Because it’s there.”

Who knows what technology will bring in the future—it’s filled with unknowns and dangers. And some of us like being the tip of the spear.

Despite the real danger, anything that liberates you to be yourself is worth it. Conformity is safe, easy, but ultimately unfulfilling.

So, the real danger of riding an electric unicycle isn’t the machine itself. At the end of the day, the danger is in worrying about what others think and letting that dictate who you are.

I will keep riding because I am free to be me.

Why Ride?

If you’re asking whether you should ride an electric unicycle because it’s dangerous, I’d say it’s more than just dangerous. It’s terrifying because you might just find out what you’re truly made of.

And no, you don’t need to ride them fast. You just need to answer the question: Where am I going and what’s the point?