"Cycling games lag behind: Why aren't there any thrilling options?"

For the past week, I’ve been attempting to save the universe. Not by leading a ragtag squad of battle-hardened veterans to storm a tyrant’s cosmic fortress, nor by guiding a warrior mage through quests to vanquish an ageless, all-powerful evil.

Instead, I’ve done it by pedaling through simple bicycle races. Absurd? That’s *Wheel World* for you.

It might seem hypocritical to mock a game’s ridiculous story when I’ve happily stomped mushrooms as a plumber, guided a speedster hedgehog in flashy shoes, or led a small-town football team to European glory. But *Wheel World*’s plot feels so awkwardly tacked on, I wouldn’t be surprised if half the code were held together with sticky putty.

A spectral figure named Skully—resembling, you guessed it, a skull—resides in your bike. To help it reclaim its lost legendary bike parts, you must defeat rival riders. With these pieces, Skully can journey through the Soul Sewer, climb Mount Send, perform the Great Shift, and soar to the moon to rescue reality itself. Typing this summary makes my fingers ache from how forced it all feels. It’s a mishmash of faux-deep nonsense—and it didn’t have to be this way.

Originally titled Ghost Bike, the game’s early concept centered on roadside memorials honoring fallen cyclists. That premise had weight, but it was scrapped for something less somber. According to Messhof’s Mark Essen, Wheel World now features "silly lore, a creation myth, and deities people pray to—take it or leave it." If even the developers don’t take the story seriously, why should I?

Then again, who needs a plot in a racing game? Not if it delivers frantic, heart-pounding thrills.

Except Wheel World doesn’t.

It’s not a bad game—just underwhelming. Imagine a stripped-down *Tony Hawk* on wheels, set in a muted *Jet Set Radio* world. If you have Xbox Game Pass, it’s included. It held my attention between sessions, my usual benchmark for engagement. But each time I returned, my interest dipped rather than soared. There are no weapons, no wild power-ups, no multiplayer. Rivals can’t be knocked off bikes (cars don’t even seem to hit them like they hit you), and while the game offers countless quirky bike builds, you won’t need most. I finished it using just two setups—one for speed, one for control—requiring only 14 of the 170+ parts.

Ultimately, it lacks escapism. Too much of what it offers, I can do in real life. I could hop on my bike right now, chase another rider, ring my bell, and declare, “Hey, Lone Wolf, I challenge you to a race!”