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S P R I N G I S U P O N U S , A N D W I T H I T, T H E B E S T T I M E O F Y E A R TO R I D E . A N D A F T E R P U T T I N G I N W O R K O N T H E T R A I N E R A N D F R E E Z I N G T H R O U G H T H O S E B A S E M I L E S , W E U N D E R S TA N D T H AT Y O U R W E L L O F M OT I VAT I O N M I G H T B E R U N N I N G D R Y. B U T N E V E R F E A R , B E C A U S E W E ’ V E G I V E N L I F E TO T H E A M A Z I N G P R O D U CT S F E AT U R E D I N T H I S C ATA LO G W I T H A C O M P I L AT I O N O F A R T I C L E S T H AT T E L L T H E S T O R I E S B E H I N D T H E M . W E H O P E Y O U ’ R E L E F T INSPIRED TO GET OUT AND GET RIDING. HAPPY TRAILS
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TRAIL HUNTER: SOUTH AFRICA PA G E 6
PLAYING ON THE ROCKS PA G E 16
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A TURBO LEVO LOVE STORY PA G E 24
THERE’S A DIVERGE FOR ANYONE PA G E 32
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TRAIL HUNTER: SOUTH AFRICA Y O U H E A R T H E M B E F O R E Y O U S E E T H E M , their whistles, threading through the forest like wisps of pure stoke smoke caught on a stiff South African breeze. One, two, three—they’re a single thread of riders pulled through the forest as one. They let loose their whistles as they wheelie and swerve—flesh-andblood kettles whistling wildly on the crust of the earth. Fanie and Hylly have always whistled when they ride, never really noticed just how much until Matt mentioned it, and now Matt’s doing it, too. Caught up in the moment, he surrenders to the flow state—that part of him that says, “yes” and “more” and “again.” The part of him that can’t help but whistle.
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THE TRAIL WHISPERER Hylton “Hylly” Turvey is a man of few words. Conversations are punctuated by long pauses, and he seems to put as much care into answering a question as he does to building a trail. There’s quiet contemplation of the situation at hand, followed by a thoughtful response. “I want to create this feeling of what I want to feel on my bike,” he says, explaining his basic trail building philosophy. It can be summed up in one word: Flow. “I enjoy flow,” says Hylly, “So I imagine the mountain and me riding down it on my bike—and that’s where the trail will go.” Matt Hunter’s no stranger to flow, of course, but the trails Hylly and his brother-in-law, Fanie Kok, share with him in Karkloof catch him off guard. These trails, built by Hylly throughout the Karkloof valley, were intended to be the appetizer on the trip, set to whet the appetite for the main course of Drakensburg. But something unexpected happened, and it felt so organic that they switched their focus. Sure, they’d still go ride Drakensburg, but it felt natural for their experience on Hylly’s trails in Karkloof to set the tone. “I think the way he’s [Hylly] connected to the land has allowed him to build a trail network through a valley he was born in and loves,” says Matt. “He really created something that wasn’t there before. I don’t think many people do that—live in a place and change it vastly for the better because they love it.” It was a love born of necessity—a passion ignited by the hills and valleys of his home. “I didn’t really specifically set out to be a trail builder,” says Hylly. “But growing up where I live in Karkloof, […] we didn’t really have anything to ride, so whatever we wanted to ride we had to create.” It wasn’t an easy career trajectory for him either, but he saw no other option for himself.
SISONKE Like a high-pressure hose slashing wildly on a front lawn, the trail twists and turns its way across the face of a grassy hill. From a distance, it’s a single dirt vein on the earth, alive and beating. We see single word—the name of this trail—carved into a weathered piece of wood and mounted to a stake. Sisonke. It’s Fanie’s Xhosa name.
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Hylly built this trail, teasing it from the earth’s cradle like a splinter from a thumb. Using the hill’s cloaked, natural contours and form, he scratched respectfully at it with shovels and mattocks until it was revealed to world. “For me,” says Hylly, “It’s [about] not disturbing too much of the land around you and working with what is there, because ultimately, that gives you the best trail. You can’t recreate that natural flow that the mountain already has.”
This trail, I was thinking of a name and then it just popped into my mind and I knew straight away—it had to be ‘cause it definitely describes Fanie.” This trail describes Fanie? Wild and exuberant? A bottomless pit of enthusiasm for the ride? “My name,” says Fanie, explaining the Xhosa word, “means ‘we are together.’ It’s like when you say to somebody, ‘are you all right or are we good?’ It basically means ‘OK, now everything’s fine, everything’s cool, we’re on the same page.’ We are together.”
The name, Sisonke—what does it mean? This moment, these guys, this trail—it all falls into place. “I sometimes think of the character of the trail,” he says. “And somebody will come into my mind.
RELEASE Dogs are not immune to it. With their bellies barely clearing rollers as they leap and chase, Syd and Miya (Hylly’s co-trail builders and pup companions), telegraph their joy not with a whistle, but with a look. Fanie will tell you that the quality of the whistle is immaterial—it’s the release that counts. A simple action with its own distinct voice. A voice that says: I am here. I am with you. We are together. They may have come to South Africa to ride Hylly’s favorite trails, but what they found was connection. Not just to the homeland where Hylly grew up, but
with each other. Does a trail exist without a rider? Does a rider exist without a trail? These are “if a tree falls in the woods” questions, sure, but if Matt wants you to take anything from this experience, it’s this: No matter how you look at it—a brotherhood a sisterhood, a solidarity of stoke—every now and then we should all step back and take a moment to recognize those unsung heroes who stoke our stoke. Those whose passion for digging at the dirt and create world-class feast of flow—trail builders like Hylly. Or to put it another way—when you’ve had great meal, it’s nice to thank the chef.
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STUMPJUMPER T H E U LT I M AT E T R A I L B I K E
The Stumpjumper is the ultimate trail bike. Seriously, the damn thing rides like it’s on rails. It’s the most versatile trail bike we’ve ever made. And yeah, we’re stoked about that, but we’re even more excited about how well it’s tuned to you. We’ve said goodbye to proprietary bullsh*t, focused on your needs, and made, what we feel, is the new benchmark in trail bikes.
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AMBUSH WITH ANGi $200.00
When you’re ripping down the trail, the last thing you need to worry about is if your helmet will protect you in a crash. Then again, you don’t want to be stuck wearing a full-face on every trail ride. This is why we created Ambush, the lightest and most ventilated extended coverage helmet out there. And now with ANGi, you get protection before, during, and after a crash.
GROUND CONTROL TIRES | $55.00 BUTCHER TIRES | $55.00 P U R G ATO R Y T I R E S | $55.00
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PLAYING ON THE ROCKS The start line stared at Peter unflinchingly. It was as stoic as his face, like two boxers before a match, both about to deliver a beating. The World Champion thought to himself, “Has it really been a year since I played on the rocks?� It was springtime, once again, and the hardest race of the season was on menu for the day, Paris-Roubaix. The Hell of the North. Sure, a 260-kilometer, one-day Classic is a tough feat, but at Paris-Roubaix, the 29 cobbled secteurs are what separate the wheat from the chaff. Each ancient stone was hand-placed and erupted from the tarmac below, warning racers of the unwelcoming journey ahead.
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Resigned to his fate, the start gun went off. Peter was immediately swarmed with 250 of his closest enemies. Bars were double-wrapped, fingers and wrists taped, tensions set to high; all in the hopes of winning THE monument.
roar, chains slapped against bikes like an army of hammers beating an anvil, and tires explode with an alarming regularity against this WWI battlefield. His ride, however, was as smooth as could be expected. And then silence.
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The opening hour came fast and frantic, and after the breakaway was established, the race settled into a familiar moving symphony of snapping derailleurs and howls of misfortune as crashes caused dreams to lay crushed along the cobbled roadside. “Just ride smooth, let the Future Shock do its thing. There’s still 160km to go,” he told himself.
“Not so bad,” he thought to himself as the smooth tarmac rolled underneath him like a high-speed train floating on its rails. He wiped his glasses to clear the fine dust that had been obscuring his vision for the past few kilometers, and then he took a deep breath. “28 more to go.”
The cacophonous sounds of the race now engulfed him like the waves of a far-off ocean; motorbikes and team cars flew over the pavè with a clattering
By the time he whizzed by the 150-kilometer marker, the nervous air of the peloton could be cut with a knife. In just 3.5 kilometers, they’d start
IN STORE & ONLINE SPRING SAVINGS THROUGH MAY
ROUBAIX TIRES S TA RT I N G AT $45.00
over the Haveluy secteur. It was the first of the highest difficulty cobbles, and it led right into the 2.4-kilometer-long Trouée d’Arenberg; a section that wouldn’t decide the victor but would certainly select the losers. CRASH! Two riders hit the cobbles hard. Their wheels fell into bottomless holes between the cobbles, tires slipping on the perfectly-polished stones. Chaos filled the gaps in the group. “It’s ok. The team will pull them back. Trust the guys and don’t panic.” A select group of favorites had formed, and they were now making contact with the chase pack. There were nine riders up the road, with a select group 19
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chasing. The racers traded blow after blow for the next 50 kilometers, attacking and chasing back just to attack again. And with 55 kilometers to go, a former champion of the race hit the peloton like a heavyweight champion throwing his final knockout blow. “Somebody’s gotta chase,” Peter thought to himself. “Up! Up! Get that wheel!” Peter’s teammate latched onto the back of the lone chaser. Head down, legs searing as they chased back on. They got to the wheel. There was a momentary lull in speed, and he thought, “I have to go now. Trust yourself. You’re going to win this.” “BLOCK!” Peter was now yelling at his teammates as he swung into the righthand gutter. “Go! Now!” he screamed as he strategized in his head, “They’re going to chase, but Greg’s tired…no one is going to work together.” The kilometers were ticking by moment to moment. The crowds screamed at the top of their lungs for their World Champion. “ALLEZ! ALLEZ! ALLEZ!” Nearly 10 kilometers went by like this, and Sagan had put 45 seconds on all of his rivals. “There are the leaders,” he assured himself, “One more dig and you can rest.” Peter’s legs screamed in dire agony, but he could taste victory. Not even his acid-filled legs could slow him down now. When he arrived at the lead group with 45 kilometers to go, the other two riders were willing to work with him. “Eight more secteurs and this thing is over.” He kept repeating this to himself like a mantra. The other two riders were ridden to tatters, and over the next secteurs, their hands began to slip and their power waned. They were tiring rapidly, but this was the freshest Peter had ever felt this far into the race. His Roubaix was eating up the cobbles, Future Shock piston firing and smoothing the road as he poured himself into the pedals. They entered another cobbled section, and Peter started a leg-searing pace. Pretty soon, one rider was gone, and the full symphony of chaos was whittled down to a mere duet. They traded equal work all the way to the infamous Roubaix velodrome. Peter’s mind was racing, “The sprint’s in me but my legs are cramping. Dillier was a track rider. Wait. Wait for the moment and then explode.” There were 225 meters to go and Peter jumped. His last blow, all of his might, he put his head down and went. The sounds of the stadium were drowned away and all he could hear was the silence of his pain. He was at one with his machine, and together, they coasted through the line. Arms aloft now; he’d done it. Peter and his Roubaix had won the Hell of the North. They could now rest.
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ROUBAIX S M O OT H E R I S FA S T E R
Every crack, every pothole, every rough patch and bit of chip seal—the off-limits boneshakers to the smoothest homestretches—the Roubaix isn’t resigned to a single day in France, it’s made for every road, everywhere. And for models with the Future Shock, rides are now even smoother and even faster.
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FUTURE SHOCK S M O OT H E R I S FA S T E R
The Future Shock is a revolution in smoothness, delivering 20mm of travel without degrading speed, handling, or comfort. In fact, it does quite the opposite. Through a focus on axial compliance, it breaks the mold of what we thought was possible in bicycle design.
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A TURBO LEVO LOVE STORY H O W A N E - B I K E S AV E D M E F R O M D E P R E S S I O N
I was 35 when my son was born; not an early age for fatherhood, but certainly early to have been on crutches for four months and to be looking a total knee replacement square in the face. Back then, time was a commodity that I could rarely afford, like it was that $7 pint of ice cream you know you’d rather have, but even when the money’s in your pocket, can never muster the courage to buy. And four months in to parenthood, I was trying not to drown in a violent sea of new responsibilities, embracing the delirium born from sleepless night after sleepless night, while that fake knee was callin’ like a relentless debt collector. On the surface,
I was prepared to unblock its number and settle up on my dead bone account, but the reality of balancing intensive physical therapy with fatherhood, husbandry, and a job that felt more Sisyphus than Don Draper left little room in the margins for free time. The surgery went ahead anyways, and the struggles began rolling to shore like a terrible storm surge brought on by unrelenting pain. Hope, in this analogy, was not a lighthouse; it was a drunk captain who made the grave decision to go down with the ship. And as I feared my fate was resigned to the murky depths with him, a Turbo Levo arrived on my doorstep one frosty February day.
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At this point in the story, I’d been off the bike for nearly two years and was just over six months postop with a new, tired knee. I’d been lacking the sense of normalcy that riding had previously brought to my life; the meditative practice, the release valve my brain’s steam engine had been missing. The rising internal pressure had converted me from the role of pessimist on a good day to that of miserable SOB #1 in this play of mortal existence. Working in the bike industry, surrounded by these seeming relics of a past life, and not a one I could ride. Imagine that; water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink. It made a long chapter in my life appear as if it were a fleeting apparition that only showed its form before me alone, and I’d transferred the frustration it bore upon its shoulders to those least deserving in my orbit. If the measured approach to day-to-day life were to be a bolt of cloth, mine was to be one torn to ribbons. Darkness. It emitted sounds like wild, freeform jazz with no purpose or discernable time signature. It had me staring long and hard into the darkness of the abyss, lying to myself that it was even before me, while whole parts of my identity were being torn away, spiraling down into its promised despair. Depression. It put my brain into a frenzied craze of ever-firing synapses that spilled out into the real world like the chaotic mess of unfinished thoughts in the paragraphs before this. But seeing my life preserver on that day, I didn’t just open the box. I set my claws to it like a rabid wolverine, breath still visible and hanging in the dusk’s frigid air. I conjured my mechanic’s muscle memory like a psychic medium pulling off the hustle of a lifetime. And as quickly as it started, my Turbo was a complete, rideable bike.
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I set out to the trail immediately, unsure if my knee could even turn a full revolution with the pedals. And as those fresh tires hit the dirt, Nirvana. Nirvana like I’d found the great equilibrium of the middle path. Nirvana like the first time I heard “Smells like Teen Spirit” in the sixth grade. Instant peace befell me, and pain be damned, I was hitting berms on the uphill like my name was Loïc. Five minutes in, and I felt whole again. I felt human. I felt like—myself. There have been many rides since then, but where half of me was missing, the Turbo Levo added a portion back. And now, over a year-and-a-half postop, I know that my body still isn’t capable of the
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riding normalcy that this bike affords me. It makes me grateful for the technological age we live in. It makes me want to hug every engineer that stayed up late, worked a weekend, and devoted themselves so completely into making something I never thought I’d be asking for. It’s made my PT my hobby, and it’s returned a sense of that human being I’d left waiting on an operating table all those years ago. That person I’d said goodbye to, who I never thought I’d meet again, well, I’m more of him today than I thought I could ever again be. Thank you, Turbo. You gave me the power to ride trails.
T H E S M O O T H E S T, Q U I E T E S T, A N D M O S T POWERFUL MOTOR IN ITS CLASS
TURBO LEVO THE POWER TO RIDE MORE TRAILS
The Turbo Levo’s ultralight, magnesium-bodied Specialized 2.1 motor amplifies your input by up to 410% with absolutely no awkward surges in power. No lurch. No “I really hope this thing will stop” motor jumps. Our engineers in Switzerland devoted years, literally, to making this a reality by creating custom software that drives the most cutting-edge motor in its class. And it’s all exclusive to the Turbo Levo—a motor that provides an incredibly smooth and natural boost to your own pedaling efforts. It’s You, Only Faster.
Hikers on Mt. Tam used to say we’re crazy. Roadies called it a fad. Clunkers, tension discs— we left our eyes open, heads down, and kept designing. We kept evolving, and today, the Turbo Levo FSR embodies a design unimaginable 40 years ago—a trail bike with over 500 watts of power on the climbs. A trail bike that gives you the power to ride more trails.
S P E C I A L I Z E D . C O M / N E W -T U R B O - L E V O 29
TURBO VADO I T ’ S Y O U , O N LY FA S T E R
Life moves fast, so it’s only logical that you’d want to navigate it at a pace that matches. The Turbo Vado is all about helping you fit all the elements of your lifestyle—the work, the play, and family time—into your hectic day. They say life is balance—it’s time to find it with the Turbo Vado.
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AIRNET $150.00
TURBO COMO I T ’ S Y O U , O N LY FA S T E R
Stylish, fun, and powerful, our Turbo Como is the first e-bike to combine good looks with utility. So whether you’re headed to your local haunts or just out on a weekend ride with your squad, the Turbo Como will have you smiling more and sweating less. Isn’t that what it’s all about?
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THERE’S A DIVERGE FOR ANYONE W H AT ’ S Y O U R S T Y L E ?
FOR THE SHREDDER
There’s no arguing that the Diverge is one of our most versatile bikes. Throw some 42mm tires on and you get a rig that’s perfect for fire roads and tough races like Dirty Kanza. Want to hop on a road ride? Just throw on some 32s and you’re in for a fast, comfortable ride. Pushing the absolute limit on some singletrack or maybe even bikepacking? Easy. You see what we’re getting at? With a little imagination, the Diverge can be configured for almost any style of riding. Let’s find out how.
If you’re the type that likes to ride trail on “skinny” tires, you’ve probably heard the inevitable, “Why don’t you just ride a mountain bike?” Answer: Because there’s something riveting about taking a bike down trails that nobody ever thought possible. Maybe it’s massaging your riding ability’s ego a bit, but we think it’s just downright fun. Eventually, though, you “run out of bike” the more gnarly the trails get. When you’re flying off a jump with two feet of seatpost under you, a dropper post starts to sound pretty cool. So, with the “Rowdy Diverge” editions, that’s exactly what we added. We took a Women’s Diverge Expert, added S-Works flat handlebars, Roval Control SL wheels paired with 42mm Pathfinder tires, a full SRAM XX1 Eagle one-by groupset, and a 50-millimeter dropper post. Problem solved. No more high-posting, plenty of control both up and down the trail, and most importantly, it’s a stupid amount of fun to ride. The second Rowdy Diverge keeps its drop bar roots, but it adds some serious flare. It starts with a Diverge Expert and then adds 44cm drop bars that flare to over 50cm at the drops, the same Roval Control SL wheels paired with 42mm Pathfinder tires, and a 100-millimeter dropper post. With the saddle out of the way, and the wide drops, this “Rowdy Diverge” handles just about anything you can throw at it, all while keeping its ability to fit in on a road ride.
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FOR THE RACER For those that count their watts like a stock ticker, we’ve built the “Race Diverge.” Sure, in its stock build, the Diverge is plenty fast for race day. But if you’re the type that obsesses over the little things to eke out every advantage you can, we’ve built the gravel bike of your dreams. It begins with an S-Works Diverge frameset that’s been dressed with the spec of your dreams: SRAM RED AXS shifters paired with a 12-speed XX1 Eagle cassette, chain, and an XX1 Eagle AXS rear derailleur. Then we added S-Works Aerofly handlebars and Roval CLX 50 wheels to provide an aero advantage, all while keeping things super lightweight. And for the long-distance racer, we even added touches like a CG-R seatpost to ensure comfort for big, epic races like Dirty Kanza. Next up, we built a pure speed machine with a mix of Dura-Ace and XTR components, Roval CLX 64 wheels, our Aerofly handlebars, and fast-rolling tires. This Diverge means super serious business. 35
DIVERGE S H O C K I N G LY FA S T. S E R I O U S LY F U N .
When the road less traveled is still too crowded, there’s the Diverge. It’s purpose-built for long, allday rides over rough roads, and to make sure of it, we designed it with an endurance-focused geometry, Future Shock suspension, and ample clearance for big tires. With the Diverge, your rides are only limited by your imagination.
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BURRA BURRA FRAMEPACK 8 $110.00
FOR THE ADVENTURER Adventure riding is all the rage these days and for good reason. Not only is it good for the mind and body, but it’s completely focused on having fun. And whether you’re getting out, or lost, in nature, these rides clear your mind and hit the reset button like nothing else. So, with the adventurer in mind, we built two Diverges that’ll satisfy your wanderlust. The first configuration starts with a Women’s Diverge frame. We put on a pair of Aerofly handlebars to save some precious watts over the course of a long day and Roval C38 carbon wheels that are paired with 38mm Sawtooth tires. This keeps both the weight and rolling resistance low, while a SRAM RED 22 WiFli drivetrain provides a range with plenty of high gears for fast road sections and plenty of low gears for the last dirt climb of the day before you reach camp. Of course, we added a variety of bags to fit anything one might need out on the road, as well as plenty of lights. Any adventure worth having usually starts or ends in darkness, after all. The second “Adventure Diverge” takes the long-distance setup to the extreme. We configured a Diverge Pro frame and gave it flat-top handlebars with clip-on aerobars to keep you as aero and comfortable as possible on high-mileage days. Next up, we spec’d a one-by Shimano Dura-Ace/ XTR Di2 drivetrain for a tall range of gears, while also limiting maintenance. For the wheels, we’ve opted for Roval CLX 32s paired with Sawtooth tires to, again, keep weight and rolling resistance low. And lastly, this Diverge features the same bag and lighting options as the adventure version above, so there’s plenty of room for overpreparing. So, there you have it. By just swapping a few parts, you can easily turn a Diverge from the gravel race bike of your dreams to one that’s ready to rip your favorite trails. It’s a bike designed for any adventure, and it’s ready to be built for whatever style you ride.
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PATHFINDER
SAWTOOTH
TRACER
50% ROAD, 50% DIRT
80% ROAD, 20% DIRT
20% ROAD, 80% DIRT
When your ride is full of adventure, but you need to tack on some road miles to get there, the Pathfinder is the perfect choice. The slick center tread rolls exceptionally fast on the road, while the transitional tread behaves predictably on the road. There’s still tons of grip for gravel, though, because the side knobs hook-up when conditions get loose and rowdy.
If your adventures see more mileage on the road than the dirt, the Sawtooth could be your winning ticket. On the road, they roll fast and smooth with a nice center-tread. Take them offroad, though, and they bite hard in the corners and hook-up fast with their chevron-style tread, sharp angles, and grippy edges.
If you’ve ever been asked how you did a certain ride with dropbars, our Tracer tires are right up your alley. They have our award-winning GRIPTON® compound and a tread design that holds steady over loose gravel, dirt, and even singletrack nuisances like rocks and roots. But when it’s time for the road, they still roll fast enough to keep up with the pack.
$55.00
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S TA RT I N G AT $45.00
S TA RT I N G AT $35.00
SIRRUS X CUE THE ADVENTURE
This isn’t your “normal” fitness bike. It takes Sirrus’ DNA and tailors it for more rugged use. Bigger tire clearance, a smooth one-by drivetrain, plenty of mounts for racks and fenders—it’s a solid bike for wherever your rides take you.
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E R G O N O M I C A L LY D E S I G N E D , S C I E N T I F I C A L LY T E S T E D
WOMEN’S POWER SADDLE WITH MIMIC Saddle pressure makes riding bikes a real pain— literally. But this saddle makes numbness and pain disappear with a design that mimics the body’s response to different types of pressure to create equilibrium within soft tissue.
SPECIALIZED.COM/POWER-SADDLE-MIMIC
THIS HELMET CALLS FOR HELP EQUIPPED WITH ANGI, OUR SMART HELMETS KNOW IF YOU’VE CRASHED, WHERE YOU CRASHED, AND CAN CONNECT YOU TO HELP.
CRASH DETECTOR SAFETY BEACON RIDE TRACKER
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The Specialized Foundation uses cycling as a tool for children to achieve academic, health, and social success. Support our youth cycling program, Riding for Focus, with a donation today.
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