I was pondering this debate on my 39 miles (2700 feet): Bolton Abbey - Burnsall - Grassington - Gargrave ride when an old man passed me on a nasty little climb sitting down. Contador-like I was out of the saddle, but he just got away.
Obviously I then thought of throwing myself into the River Wharfe but whilst contemplating my end and checking that my bike was on the 50:11 cogs for when it was discovered I caught him up - he was meeting a lady friend - to realise it was an electric bike. Oh the exultation! I must have been only doing nearly 15 mph to let him get away, but clearly dancing on the pedals is almost as good as having an engine.
My euphoria lasted until I arrived home to see a SUV and huge closed car transporter parked outside from which was emerging an immaculate silver grey Ferrari 458 destined for a near neighbour. (I've already seen two Ferraris on his drive).
I chatted to the delivery driver who said that when he rang to say he was delivering the Ferrari my neighbout had said on the phone "Oh yes. Which one?"
If I didn't ride a Bianchi I really would feel I was letting the neighbourhood down.