Why I Left the City and Bought an E-Bike

I didn’t know it at the time, but that first ride would change the way I saw everything.

I used to wake up to the sound of sirens. Cars honking. People shouting through thin apartment walls. The kind of noise you stop noticing — until one day you do.

I lived in the city. Worked in the city. Slept under the buzz of LED lights and swore I'd "get out" when things slowed down, when I saved enough, when the timing felt right. But the timing never feels right when you're stuck in the loop. Days start blending. The world feels smaller, even though you're surrounded by millions of people.

It wasn’t a midlife crisis. It wasn’t some dramatic decision. It was a quiet urge — one that started growing louder every time I looked out a window and saw concrete instead of trees.

One day, on a whim, I started researching electric bikes. I wasn’t looking for anything crazy — just something that could take me further than my legs were used to going. Something that could keep up when I needed power, but still let me feel the ride.

That’s when I found it. A matte black frame. Fat tires. Built for off-road. It wasn’t cheap, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t just buying a bike. I was buying an exit.

The first ride was everything I didn’t know I needed.
Just me, a stretch of forgotten trail, and the sound of tires cracking against dirt. No traffic. No notifications. No one telling me where I had to be or how fast I had to get there.

I remember stopping midway through the trail. Drenched in sweat. Breathing hard. Smiling like a fool. It was quiet — really quiet. The kind of quiet that makes you realize how loud your life’s been.

Since then, things have changed.

I still live part-time in the city, but I’m not of it anymore. Every chance I get, I take that bike out and chase a different kind of adrenaline — one that doesn’t come from rushing, but from slowing down. From noticing how the wind cuts through pine trees. From spotting deer in the distance. From realizing your body can take you places your mind forgot about.

I’ve met others out there too. Hunters. Campers. Old heads who’ve been riding for decades. Young couples strapping tents to the back of their bikes. All of us different. But all of us out there for the same reason:

We want something real.

Not staged. Not filtered. Just… raw. Free.

That’s what Belcopia is for me. And maybe for you, too.
Not just an e-bike brand — but a reminder. That the world is still wild. And if you’re willing to ride a little further, you might find the part of yourself that got buried beneath the noise.

So yeah. I left the city.

But really, I just found my way back.