Europe has an electric bike problem. Direct-to-consumer e-bikes from inexpensive Chinese brands like Engwe and countless others can be easily purchased online despite openly flouting EU restrictions. They feature throttles and powerful motors that can be easily unlocked to far exceed the 25km/h (16mph) legal speed limit — no pedaling required.

Here in Amsterdam, cheap Super73-knockoffs ridden at almost twice the legal speed have made the city’s renowned bicycle lanes increasingly chaotic and dangerous. Across the Netherlands, over 10,000 of these electric “fat bikes” were seized in 2024.

Engwe’s new Mapfour lineup is the company’s attempt at going legit by expanding from souped-up electric fat bikes and foldables into “premium commuter” e-bikes. And because they’re the first e-bikes that Engwe has designed exclusively for European roads, the company swears they can’t be unlocked for more speed.

I’ve been riding the new Mapfour N1 Pro model for the last few weeks. It lists for €1,899 (almost $2,000), or €1,799 during the initial launch — a price that brings heightened expectations.

The N1 Pro is slathered in premium capabilities like GPS/GSM tracking for which some bike makers charge subscriptions. The monocoque frame and fork are made from carbon fiber supplied by Toray — “the same high-quality carbon fiber as Trek and Specialized,” claims Engwe. There’s even turn-by-turn navigation built into the full-featured app, a large colorful display integrated into the handlebars, and a built-in mechanical lock in the rear wheel hub that automatically engages when the bike is turned off and stationary.

My review bike was missing a fender bolt, occasionally flashed a strange error code, and the solar-powered rear light won’t turn on. Still, it’s likely the highest quality electric bike Engwe has ever made.

I have lots of experience with assembling direct-to-consumer e-bikes and the N1 Pro was ready to ride in about an hour, which is typical. Even with a carbon-fiber frame it weighs 20.1kg (44lbs) fully assembled according to my scale, which is heavy for an e-bike — just not Veloretti-heavy.

In the box you’ll find a basic toolset that includes everything needed for assembly and instructions written in stellar English unlike some previous Engwe tutorials I’ve read. I had to assemble the pedals, front wheel, kickstand, handlebar, and fenders, and fish out a replacement fender bolt from some spare bicycle parts I had lying around. I then went to adjust the saddle to my height only to discover that I was too tall for the N1 Pro.

The saddle stem has a marked safety line that stops well before the height needed for my 6 foot (183cm) frame, despite being sold in the Netherlands where I’m considered a short king. Nevertheless, exceeding the line by about 2.5cm (one inch) hasn’t made the saddle feel insecure, even when riding over rough cobblestones. Engwe claims the N1 Pro supports riders from 165–190cm, and is considering offering the option for a longer saddle stem at checkout based upon my feedback.

The N1 Pro’s geometry puts the rider into what’s essentially a mountain bike stance: a moderate forward lean with hands spread wide out in front of the body. That wrist and body angle combined with a rather stiff saddle are not ideal for riding long distances, especially in combination with a backpack that’ll put even more weight on the hands and derrière. I do like that fun, sporty posture over short distances, but if you’re looking for a more relaxed ride then Engwe has the upright €1,399 MapFour N1 Air available in both step-over and step-through frames.

The 250W mid-drive Ananda motor on the N1 Pro is nearly silent under the din of road noise, and the integrated torque sensor provides an intuitive pedal-assist at all speeds. It produces up to 80Nm of torque that lets me easily start from a dead stop in fourth gear (of seven) on flat roads, but testing on a hill with a gradient of about 15 percent required a start from first gear. Typically, I only needed to shift to a high gear when I wanted to use my leg power to propel the bike at speeds above the 25km/h motor cutoff.

Despite claiming a range of up to 100km from its modest 360Wh battery, my first test performed over a few weeks yielded just 23km off a full charge in near-freezing conditions. I usually rode in power setting three of five on mostly flat roads. The second test performed on a single warmer day improved the range to 27km with 28 percent charge remaining — or an estimated 36km if I had time to run the battery dry for a below average 10Wh consumed per kilometer travelled. The bike battery seems to suffer from idle battery drain of about 1-2 percent per day when parked inside my house.

Worrisome for a “premium” e-bike: on two occasions I saw an “09” error message flash on the display which Engwe is still diagnosing. Once, while starting the bike after it had been sitting outside in the rain for a few hours. Another time after riding home on a rain-soaked street while switching between the N1 Pro’s regular and high-beam lights. In the first case, a simple reboot cleared it and I was able to ride away fine, but the other time required riding home under my own power before it inexplicably cleared the next morning.

There was a time when premium e-bikes had list prices around €2,000 / $2,000. Those days are as gone as the free venture capital propping up e-bike startups, pushing premium prices up to a starting price closer to €3,000 / $3,000. The Engwe N1 Pro is therefore priced about right. It’s not a bad e-bike, but it’s also not great despite checking off lots of features on a marketing sheet.

Just remember, servicing a direct-to-consumer e-bike can be a problem as it requires the ready availability of spare parts and the knowledge to replace them. As with any electric bike exposed to the elements and regular road use, the N1 Pro’s motor and any proprietary electronics like the controller, display, battery, lights, buttons, and integrated lock will eventually need servicing. So you’d better be on very good terms with your local bike shop or be handy with a wrench and oscilloscope to prevent your mail-order e-bike from quickly turning into e-waste.

Photography by Thomas Ricker / The Verge