Mick and Paul do Germany

We didn’t really know what to expect from FOCUS before this trip. They aren’t the sort of brand that shouts the loudest in mountain biking. No flashy slogans on every banner, no marketing blitz that drowns the feed. That’s exactly why we said yes when the invite came.

FOCUS asked us to come to Stuttgart to see how they work, how they ride, and how they see themselves in a world full of louder bike brands. We wanted to ride the new FOCUS JAM² e-MTB, find out who they are, what makes them tick, and whether their low-key approach is part of something bigger.

So off we went. Me, Paul van der Ploeg, loud laugh, strong legs, born connector, and Tom from FOCUS Australia, the guy holding the thread between Stuttgart and the Aussie scene. We were hosted by FOCUS HQ for a week of riding, talking, cooking, and digging into the culture that shapes their bikes.

The goal? To bring a little of that FOCUS soul back to Australia. To show riders here not just the products but the people and the way they go about building bikes and community. Because in a bike world full of noise, maybe what’s missing is a steady hand and a culture that feels real.

Come along with Mick and Vandy for an adventure with FOCUS Bikes in Stuttgart, Germany

Arrival | ICE train, Bosch sign, bike city

The InterCity Express train slid out of Frankfurt and towards Stuttgart so quietly that it felt like flying close to the ground. A food trolley rattled past down the aisle, the drinks guy even had cold beer in his crate, and everyone spoke in library voices. No graffiti. No hyped-up phone‑call theatrics like the train between Newcastle and Sydney I’m used to. When the doors opened, the heat hit and a huge BOSCH sign loomed over the station. It felt like a title card for the week: this story would be about engineering and bikes working side by side.

I linked up with Paul van der Ploeg right away. If you follow Australian riding you already know Paul. He is a big personality who turns strangers into a crew in two minutes. He rides like he means it, laughs louder than anyone, and has a gift for nudging a session into the fun zone. We love Paul. He was there to meet the people and bring the camera to life. I was there to collect everything and turn it into film, photos and this article.

Door to dirt in five. FOCUS lunch ride trails are pretty sweet.

Stuttgart city centre, cradle of the automobile, home to Porsche, Mercedes-Benz and over 600,000 people

Marienplatz set the tone, a classic inner-city piazza. Restaurants, gelato shops, bars, pizza boxes, a bike share rack, Lime Scooters, street performers, takeaway drinks and a flow of riders and cool bikes that never really thinned. Then a detail I did not expect. Riders in full‑face helmets (with the odd digital durry) and body armour queued beside a platform. Stuttgart’s cog railway climbs the hill, and a downhill trail drops back into the square. Shuttle up, gravity down, gelato on the corner. It is a neat summary of the city’s priorities. Bikes are not a subculture here. They are part of daily life, and we felt far from home.

Bike street | A moving postcard

On Fahrradstraße, Bike Boulevard, the city flows. Cargo bikes hum past, loaded with groceries and sleepy kids. Vintage steel or anodised bonded aluminium glows in the evening light, trendy bikes and well-dressed riders. Gravity rigs huck the stairs. We grabbed a table and watched it all go by. Two young riders stopped to talk. One had a very cool vintage GT Tequesta with a pizza rack on the front, while the other was a gravel bike covered in a fresh layer of dust. They told us about hot days in the forest and a gritty local BMX movie they had filmed, featuring matching tattoos, called KaputtGart.

Fahrradstraße is the city’s bike spine. Cargo to gravity, kooky to hipster, carbon, steel, commuter to cruiser, all welcome.
Stuttgart wears bike culture well. Comfortable, a bit kooky, just right.

The FOCUS office | Hot desks, meal trains, and a calm MD

I expected a big corporate HQ with card‑swipe doors, a busy old office, hushed voices and pressure energy. Instead, it felt like a creative co‑op that happens to design bikes and meeting rooms named after mountains. Windows open to 35 degrees. Fans ticking. Hot desks instead of assigned seats. People drifted between screens, workstands, soundproof video call meeting booths, a mighty coffee machine and a kitchen that actually gets used.

Office lunch at FOCUS HQ is a ritual. Chop, stir, talk, plan, ride.

Pro rider Wyn Masters arrives at FOCUS HQ. Known for his wheelies, big personality and Wyn TV presence, his arrival set the tone for an afternoon of riding, banter and plenty of energy on the trails.

Moritz, the managing director – big boss – crossed the street and welcomed us in flip-flops and shorts, carrying groceries for lunch. Calm manner, fit, tall, piercing eyes. Happy to talk about anything, including a trip to Australia for a dealer event and a wish to ride Derby in Tassie. The tone was simple, welcoming and excited. Serious work, relaxed people.

Lunch is a ritual. Groceries on the bench. Someone is chopping capsicum and tofu. Someone else is stirring a bowl of fresh stuff. Another person is clearing plates. The only hierarchy is knife skill. Conversations zig‑zag from event logistics to the incoming heat wave, dealer events to FOCUS Bike Day ride plans. You leave with a full plate and a clearer plan.

Cooking and eating together is part of the culture here, and for us it became a chance to bridge FOCUS Australia with the Stuttgart headquarters, building relationships and getting to know each other beyond the desks and trail rides.

People and roles | A quick cast list

Paul, FOCUS ambassador: Catalyst. Host, rider, connector. If there is a staircase to clean or a silly line to try, he is first to say yes.
Wyn, Pro racer and iconic personality: pro rider and media personality: recently signed to FOCUS, brings Wyn TV energy, world-class riding, and a big positive influence on the gravity scene.
Moritz, Managing Director: super tall, calm, into techno. His beard went grey during the pandemic. Recently visited Australia, spotted a couple of koalas, and is keen to ride Tassie one day.
Tom, FOCUS Australia: Connector. Keeps the link between Stuttgart and the Australian scene, wrangles content and crew. More chilled than a Campari Soda, and loves walking up hills in Solovair shoes.
Patrick, Brand Manager: party shirts, bad jokes, good instincts, FOCUSed on sustainability. Very German in the sense that he cares deeply about the brand message and how it shows up.
Luise, Brand Manager: shaping how FOCUS shows up, keeping the message clear and the marketing vibe consistent.
Max, Brand Manager: quietly fit, singlets at work, important role, an endurance engine, spotted in a catalogue photo modelling a road bike.
Mo, sponsorship and athlete manager: red beard, cool tattoo, ex‑trials. Understated in conversation, outrageous on a bike, drives his electric car as fast as it goes on the Autobahn.
Matze, mechanic and amateur painter: mullet, piercings, metal t-shirt, workshop patina, always in ratty SPD shoes, and rides a SAM with a hand‑painted scheme that looks like fun had a late night with a pint of gin. He will swap your brakes to Aussie style while explaining why internal headset routing should not be the future.
Tim, product manager: young, well-informed and opinionated, proper fast rider. Deep in the development of the future e‑MTB platform.
Stixxy, product: mad scientist energy, van life, zero interest in flash. Ex‑media bike tester with a forensic feel for what riders actually notice. Mick now has his phone number.
Bianka, design: sharp eye for graphics, shape and silhouette, weaving classic design language into the modern FOCUS range.
Mario, Engineering: calm, stylish, experienced, clear on trade‑offs.
Ilona, Project Manager: gets things done, races the Cog Train on a Thron on her way home from work up a huge hill, and orchestrates summer rolls for lunch that stop half the office.

The pattern is consistent. Product managers race. Engineers commute year‑round. The GM helps at events. Mechanics ride prototypes, try to break them, and feed them back to the core.

Workshop life | Vans, racks, and a mechanic who rides

Out by the loading bay, Michael the mechanic rotated fleets between two FOCUS‑branded mini‑buses. Modular racks swallowed road, gravel or MTB without fuss. Inside, the workshop felt like the heartbeat. Tools where you expect them, colours everywhere, grime and a well-worn floor, and a steady clatter of practical problem solving.

Michael spends much of his time moving bikes to events and dealer demos, making sure riders and the community can test the latest models.
We want Matze to paint a bike for us

Matze took our bikes, flipped the brakes, and gave the internal headset brake hose a weary shake of the head. He likes bikes that are tough, serviceable and honest. Then he rolled out his own SAM with that rough‑ready paint job and a grin. Paul and I were already pitching a limited ‘Matze’ replica paint run.

Ride Together, Ride Beyond | The brand motto

Max and Patrick were eager to share what makes FOCUS tick and where they are heading. ‘Ride Together – RideBeyond’ was spoken about a lot, it’s also all through their marketing material, catalogues and signage. I walked in assuming the motto was a buzzword.

It is not. It is a filter.

Two riders in most images. Three if one is holding a camera. Exceptions exist when the story truly demands a solo, but the bias is toward shared experience.

Racing is useful as proof when it shows what a bike can do. It is not the identity. The “beyond” flexes by place. In Germany, it might be a forest loop and a late tram. In Australia, it might be a Tuesday night crit that ends with a beer. The core remains.

Monday | The lunch ride that was not a lunch ride

We thought we were nicking out between emails. It turned into a full session. Wyn Masters arrived with his mechanic. Paul and Wyn are old mates, so the banter started before we turned the bikes on.

Singletrack begins a few hundred metres from the office. Dusty dirt, tight corners, small pockets of loam. We lingered at features, not to compare times but to try different versions of the same idea. It felt like a good old jump jam or skatepark session, but in the woods.

The FOCUS JAM² 9.6. Now available in Australia, known for its dependable alloy frame, Bosch Performance CX motor and balanced component spec, it delivers solid build quality at a realistic price point.
Pro rider Wyn Masters heads the train with Tim and Paul during a lunch ride. The ride captured the spirit of FOCUS: fast, fun, and collaborative, with plenty of laughs.
The whole crew gathered at the base of this climb to cheer, heckle and then try the line themselves, turning a tough feature into a group challenge.

Mo’s arm tattoo. It riffs on Michelangelo’s famous hand of God from the Sistine Chapel, but instead of touching a divine finger, it reaches for a mountain bike brake lever. A fitting and funny nod to his life on bikes.

FOCUS JAM² resting in a deep bed of Stuttgart loam. The dirt was as lush as it looks.
While the rest of us paused, Mo rolled straight in and even made it harder by hopping off his rear wheel. Only later did we discover he had once represented Germany in trials at the World Championships, ohhhh.
The session was in full swing, not what we expected from a ‘lunch ride’.
Wyn sending a huge triple. It was no surprise to see him ride at that level, but watching it up close was still something special. Smooth, stylish and seriously fast, bloody hell, he is good on a bike.

Riding up the stairs, a move none of us would have tried before the modern e-bike arrived.

Wyn on the hip gap, just having fun while the rest of us watched and wished we could do the same.

Mo answered Paul’s casual request to hit a drop by hopping rear wheel first off a very steep and treacherous wall of roots, then landing like a cat and rolling away. It was particularly smooth, and we needed an explanation. Later, we learned he had represented Germany in trials at the World Champs. It made sense.

There was a triple gap that long-time FOCUS rider Olly Wilkins had tried on an earlier visit and not quite made. Catnip. Wyn lined it up and sent it long; he just had to.

Under a freeway overpass, we eyed up a gnarly chute, the rain eased, and a staircase became a challenge. Paul cleaned it on his third go, and the heckling switched to applause. Back in the city, Wyn did his thing on a ‘back wheel’ for blocks while I tried to film with a heavy camera and steady hands. We ended in Marienplatz again with gelato. Office, singletrack, gelato. Hard to fault.

Marienplatz at dusk, the heart of Stuttgart and the backdrop to our week of riding and culture.
Prototype Spotting | Project Falcon, sometimes Espresso, Next in the flesh

In a bright upstairs room sat a raw, dirt-coated prototype with no stickers. The project behind this new bike has been known as Falcon and sometimes Espresso, but it all falls under what FOCUS is calling Project NEXT, their push into recyclable materials and more sustainable practices.

The front triangle was built from a thermoplastic composite. Paul, the materials specialist, tipped a handful of the recycled granules into my hand out of an espresso glass. It looked more like fish-tank gravel than anything bike-related. He explained how the Belgian partner brings the process and production know-how. Belgium has been a hub for composite moulding in other industries, and now some of that is being steered into bikes.

Mario explains Project NEXT, FOCUS’ thermoplastic prototype. A glimpse of the bikes we’ll be seeing on trails soon.

The bash guard below the motor is one of the small parts FOCUS is already producing from recycled materials, an early step in Project NEXT.

The choice to go thermoplastic wasn’t about chasing weight or showroom gloss. It was about asking where recycling and serviceability actually fit. Start small: things like bash plates, cable ports, and small covers are already being looked at in recyclable formats. Parts that riders swap or break are a natural entry point. Then step up to the frame itself. If the front triangle can be recycled rather than binned, that changes the conversation about what happens at the end of a bike’s life.

We’ve seen bits of this in cycling before. Plastic or thermoplastic rims and small parts have popped up over the years. Chris King even experimented with wheels using recycled content. The Slovak brand Kellys had a stab at a plastic-front-end e-MTB a while back, but it never gained widespread popularity. Beyond that, examples are thin, which is why this felt different. This is not a side project or a one-off showpiece; when it goes to market later in 2026, it will likely be the biggest release so far of a recyclable thermoplastic frame from a mainstream brand.

The frank part? Thermoplastic is not lighter than traditional carbon. It is not more glamorous. It is not an easy sell in a catalogue. But it is durable, it’s less brittle than traditional carbon when knocked about, and it creates a real path for recycling. FOCUS is betting riders will see sense in that. Patrick acknowledges that consumers simply don’t pay more for sustainability, so this has to offer more than that. FOCUS wants it to happen. Project NEXT is just an extension of that thinking into how frames are built.

Where FOCUS is headed | Mobility and e‑MTB

Inside HQ, the picture was clear. Back in 2018, FOCUS chose to go all‑in on e‑bikes. Not to ditch ‘pure’ pedal bikes, but to point most of the energy at e‑MTB and everyday mobility.

Europe makes the logic obvious. Cities are dense. Trails are close. People ride to work and to dinner. E‑bikes unlock more days on the bike and more people on the bike. The culture is there, so the products follow.

What that means in the range: the JAM, SAM and THRON platforms are the backbone for mountain bikes, with the Atlas in gravel and the Izalco Max in road still very much alive. We were also told the 2026 line‑up is about 90% new across platforms and spec. A big refresh indeed.

Designers who ride | Watching Tim and Felix

We took Tim and Felix (Stixi) for an on-trail Q&A. We rode a section, shot with the GoPro, asked one or two questions, then shot away, followed with the GoPro, and rode again. Watching them ride their bikes said as much as what they said in our questions.

Tim rides like a textbook for a mountain bike race. Sets up early, leans into a corner properly, then squeezes speed out of the ground with mighty power and pace.

Stixi is firm on the bike but lighter in feel, flicking small hops into lines where others would just steer. He smiles a lot when a bike feels right.

The contrast is the point. Analytical and precise meets intuitive and playful. They design together. Paul floated between them, quizzing, puzzling, heckling, challenging them to ride faster, throwing cheeky prompts for the camera, then tucking back into the train.

Paul on the gas down Arizona. The trail gets its name from the dry, pale dirt, and it was every bit as good as it looks.
Tim and Stixi bring different skills and plenty of character, but together they represent the new wave of bike design at FOCUS. We can’t wait to see where they take the brand next.
Stixi with his ugly-duckling prototype mule, an earlier model SAM frame covered in tape and mounts, used to experiment with battery placement in every direction to assess the impact of weight distribution on the bike’s handling.

Stixi was riding a rough ‘ugly duckling test mule’ that tells you a lot about how he thinks. A previous generation and battered FOCUS SAM, with tape holding temporary battery mounts and a small 400W/hr battery, slammed as low as possible. A 280W/hr range-extender sat in a movable cradle, letting him shift weight up, down, fore and aft just to feel the consequences. Not pretty. Very useful.

That’s FOCUS in practice. Park a product that doesn’t fit. Prefer Best Buy over shiny specs that add cost unnecessarily; don’t fuss over expensive parts that can break. Build to use cases, not to tick boxes. The ugly mule made the point better, for us to see, too. Bikes don’t need to be beautiful to prove their worth; they just need to ride the way their designers want them to.

We finished at a park built on WWII rubble. Concrete blocks and building debris on a hill of broken history, now a green space with a view over new roofs and old spires. A reminder that places change. Brands too.

Piazza life | Dust, beers, bands
A group of riders winding down in the piazza after a ride. When I asked to take their photo, one turned and said, “Hi, Mick.” A long way from home, but FOCUS’ presence in the city is strong. Hi, Richard!

Live brass echoing out of a tiny bar near the university. A grimy, hipster corner of Stuttgart with plenty of character, it felt a lot like Melbourne in the best way.

Back in the square, dusty riders mixed with families and a brass band punched out a tune from a doorway. I asked a group of riders, sitting in a circle chilling after a ride, for a photo. I raised my camera, and a rider turned, smiling. “Hi, Mick.” Richard from the office, haha. A small city after all. If you work at FOCUS, you are likely to be here after a ride at least once a week. Meanwhile, Paul was already halfway through meeting three tables of strangers with a tall hefferveisen in his hand.

FOCUS Bike Day | Everyone rides, then everyone eats

Our visit coincided with the annual FOCUS Bike Day. Road crews left early for a long loop. Gravel planned shaded routes. City rides, too. Our lot pointed the EV towards France. The boot was a neat diagram of 600 Wh batteries in a box. The forest on the other side was deep, loamy and fast.

Pre-ride briefing on FOCUS Bike Day. Moritz explains the route, sets the no-drop rules, and reminds the road crew of the key detail: be back in time for an early dinner with families and friends.

Dropping a battery into a FOCUS e-MTB. With so many demo bikes on hand we had the rare luxury of a car boot stacked with spares, which meant an entire day in France ripping descents without worrying about range.
Stixi on one of his custom-painted test bikes, dropping into a steep, fast chute and looking completely at home on the terrain.
The whole group rode at a level that kept the session sharp, fast and inspiring.

A fast pause to drop the bike and snap a photo before rolling on. A fun little shoot in the middle of an even better ride.

We rode everything twice. Up, down, up, down. Tim pumped speed out of every surface. Stixi floated across ruts the rest of us fell into. Mo made an already awkward entry deliberately worse by hopping onto a log and nose‑dropping off into steep dirt. Paul threaded the group, filming, adding spice, and daring us to try the sillier version of the same line. I dropped the cautious overseas travel pace and got on with it, snapping pics and filming the boyish banter.

Back at HQ, the tables were set out, and the food truck opened. Yellow curries and wraps. Partners and kids. People we had only passed in the office halls now had time for stories. I ducked inside to look at a mid‑nineties FOCUS with Magura rim brakes, foam grips, and a two‑piece seat stay. A Continental tyre with Mike Kluge – the OG founder of FOCUS – on the side.

Looking down from the FOCUS HQ window during FOCUS Bike Day. The car park was transformed with temporary seating, a food truck, music, a pool for the kids and even a jumping castle for Paul. A pretty good place to spend an afternoon at ‘work’.

Retro FOCUS hardtail on display. The frame lines and period-correct parts give it real superhero vibes, no surprise I was instantly a fan.

Product philosophy in practice | Value over vanity

By the end of the week, the shape of the brand was easy to read. If a model no longer makes sense, they park it. Shiny spec that adds cost without adding feel doesn’t get a free pass. The range sits at a modest, realistic price point, and every bike is built for a clear use case rather than a compromise that tries to please everyone.

Wyn Masters at FOCUS HQ. Recently signed to the brand, he brings personality, coverage and a spark we’re excited to see mix with the FOCUS crew.
The FOCUS JAM shows off its fluid, sculpted aluminium frame. Proof that alloy can look every bit as sharp as higher-priced carbon when it’s done right.

Max and Patrick talked through how that plays out when a bike comes to market. They’d rather keep a tight, sensible line-up than chase every trend. After a heavy run of digital launches, they’re back to turning up in magazines and at events, putting bikes in front of real crews and good dealers. It’s a way of checking that the message actually lands where people ride, not just where they scroll.

The core story remains the same; it’s always a challenge, but the details bend to fit the place. Germany is not Australia, and neither is Italy or the US. The bikes don’t change wildly, but the way they’re presented does. Same values, local voice.

Best Buy | Bikes for Real Riders

If there’s one thing the FOCUS crew spoke a lot about, it wasn’t shaving grams off carbon lay-ups, or speccing chart-topping parts. It was a sticker. Best Buy.

They’ve won a few of them now, and they’re genuinely proud of it, more proud than of the exotic, bling-spec wins that other brands chase. And you can see why. A Best Buy award isn’t about impressing pros or hanging gold Kashima or wireless bits off the catalogue bike; it’s about building something your average rider can buy, ride hard, and not feel ripped off.

One of the product managers put it best: “We don’t want to sell you useless stuff. The bike should be the best thing you can get for the money. That’s it.”

It’s a humble, almost protective stance, like an older sibling telling you which bike is the smart choice, not the flashiest.

Paul behind the GoPro while Tim and Stixi explain their approach to bike design, what is necessary and what is not. From component choices to spotting gaps in the market, it was clear these two have a big say in where FOCUS is heading.

That mentality runs through the office. Matze’s workshop paint jobs are fun, but his test mules are built to be flogged, not babied. The lunch rides prove the bikes get hammered straight out of the door. And when you see how FOCUS engineers, designers, and mechanics ride, hard, fast, messy, and with grins on their faces, you start to believe that maybe Best Buy isn’t a sticker at all. Maybe it’s the whole culture.

Paul picked up on that straight away. He’s seen enough catalogue bikes loaded with show-pony parts to know the difference, and what impressed him most wasn’t what FOCUS could have added; it was what they chose to leave out.

“This is a bike for real riders,” he said. “It’s not built to sit in a garage and look shiny. It’s built to ride every day.”

Advocacy and the bigger picture | Alex from MTB Stuttgart

We met Alex from MTB Stuttgart, the local advocacy group trying to keep mountain biking visible and legitimate in a city where trails weave straight out of bushland and into people’s backyards. The challenges he described felt familiar to us Down Under: questions over access, a constant debate about how riders fit alongside walkers, and the push to turn informal lines into accepted, signed trails.

Alex talked about how much of Stuttgart’s riding is hidden in the forest that surrounds the city. The trails are there, but without signage, it’s easy to get lost, or worse, to end up in conflict with landowners or hikers. His group works on building trust with local councils, putting in the hours on maintenance, and showing that mountain biking is part of the community, not outside it. He said a lot of the work isn’t glamorous: digging drains, clearing debris after storms, sending emails, sitting through meetings.

Access here, as in much of the world, can be tricky, and we were interested to hear how FOCUS supports MTB advocacy to keep the trails open and healthy for everyone on bikes.

FOCUS backs that effort. Some of the support is financial. Some of the office staff show up with shovels and gloves, not just bikes. The logic is straightforward. Trails make riders. Riders make communities. Communities keep the culture alive, and yes, eventually they buy bikes.

Because the FOCUS crew are riders first, the connection feels personal before it feels commercial. They’re fixing the same corners they ride after work. Paul spotted it straight away.

“Back the locals who swing tools and send emails. Everything else gets easier.”

Stuttgart | The machine-minded city

On the last day, we went looking for other kinds of Stuttgart culture and design. The Porsche Museum is as polished as you would expect, yet it stands out because the story is really about identity over time. The seventies 911s were simply stunning.

Stuttgart is known as the “cradle of the automobile.” This city gave birth to influential names like Karl Benz, Gottlieb Daimler, and Wilhelm Maybach, a theme seems to be developing here, go on, Google them. Porsche and Mercedes-Benz both have their headquarters nearby. Bosch, Mahle, and other engineering giants spin out from Stuttgart’s high-tech heart.

The striking entrance to the Porsche Museum. Crowds stream in daily, with many people travelling to Stuttgart specifically to see this showcase of automotive history.
Beautiful 911 Turbo inside the Porsche Museum. Tom called it his favourite, and I quietly agreed, though I picked another to keep it fair.
Inside the Porsche Museum: Ferry and Ferdinand Porsche, the father-and-son team whose designs launched one of the world’s most iconic car companies.

A beautifully preserved interior. Even for those not deep into cars, it shows how design language and detail carry through the brand’s history over many decades.

The Porsche Museum sits right by its factory. Its futuristic building is supported by three V-shaped pillars and looks like it’s floating over the ground. Inside are over 80 cars, from Ferdinand Porsche’s first designs to rare 917s, classics like the 356 and 911, plus small exhibits that tell the story of innovation, failures, engineering and style.

And Stuttgart isn’t alone. Across Germany, you find bike brands that have shaped global riding. Cube, based in Bavaria, is one of the world’s biggest producers by volume. Canyon, from Koblenz, sells direct to riders everywhere. Ghost, Haibike, Merida and FOCUS here in Stuttgart, and names like Stevens, Bulls, and Rotwild, all part of a scene.

Stuttgart’s old town square. Church towers, clocks and classic Swabian architecture frame a part of the city that feels centuries away from the factories and design studios nearby.

Looking across the Stuttgart skyline. The TV tower rises in the distance while a temporary jazz festival fills the foreground. A reminder that living here means there’s always something happening, especially in midsummer.

Stuttgart wraps its industry in surprises. Vineyards on its hills, parks carved from post-war rubble, modern architecture beside pre-war or reconstructed historic buildings. Its population is around 613,000 in the city, but nearly 5.5 million in its metro area. It is a city of hills, of forests close enough that you can escape the concrete in 30 minutes, and yet always pulsing with that machine-mind energy, the roar of engines, the design studios. And all that mixes with city squares, lakes, gelato, or sometimes a brass band near a fountain, showing that here, engineering and humanity live side by side.

Critical Mass | Bikes in Stuttgart

On this particular Friday night, Stuttgart’s streets turned into something else entirely. Not cars, not trams, not horns and traffic lights, just bikes. Thousands of them. Critical Mass is one of those things you hear about in passing, but to see it unfold in Stuttgart was something else. A rolling sea of riders filled every lane, lights flashing, bells ringing, tunes cranking, freewheels buzzing as the pack moved through the city like its own living organism.

All kinds of people, all kinds of bikes. Kids on BMXs, parents with cargo bikes, gravel, road, fixie crews, tall-bikes, e-MTBs, seasoned commuters who looked like they’d been doing this for decades. All bikes, any bikes. Beers, speakers. Everyone claiming the same patch of asphalt at once, just by showing up and cruising along.

The massive Critical Mass rolling through Stuttgart. At its heart, Critical Mass is about making bikes visible by filling the streets. It isn’t always popular everywhere – it can be disruptive – but here it’s embraced, and this is the biggest ride of its kind we know of.
Friday night in Stuttgart. Paul chats with locals on gravel bikes, beers in hand, before everyone heads off together for a social cruise at Critical Mass.

More riders join the roll-out, many in casual clothes with beers and smiles. It feels more like a street festival than a ride, which explains its popularity in Stuttgart.
Tall bike problems. Easier to lean on a concrete block than try to put a foot down.

In Australia, you are often either a ‘bike rider’ or you’re not. In Stuttgart, like much of Europe, it feels more natural. People roll on good bikes in everyday clothes, and cycling is simply part of life.
Critical Mass rolling across a four-lane highway. No cars in sight, just bikes wall to wall. You don’t have to see it to believe it, but we love that we did.
Another tall bike with the classic “chainring within a chain” tensioner, often attempted, rarely successful.

The police were ever present at Critical Mass, keeping things smooth and safe with road crossings. It was clearly city-approved, and we couldn’t help but admire the bikes they were riding as well.
Critical Mass swept right past the Porsche Museum. For once, I wasn’t just a visitor, I was able to grin and say, I’ve been here before.
Wendel showing off a smooth wheelie and Tom from FOCUS Australia beside him, still wearing the big smile he seemed to keep the entire trip.
Only Tom could mix full-power e-MTBs with a pair of leather shoes and still look like the coolest dude in Adelaide.
The ride finished in a sea of bikes with music playing, food stalls buzzing and conversations carrying late into the night.

Peugeot “Europe Express.” A classic commuter setup. Practical, a little quirky, and very cool to see in Stuttgart.
Yesss, Wendel!

Hirsch Helles, Shimano Vandy’s Wheelie Good Lager, or a warm Stuttgart Hofbräu from the servo. What’s your pick after a few hours cruising the city?

Unplanned, we somehow bumped into half the FOCUS office during the moving bike party; it was a hoot.

From the outside, it looked chaotic. From the inside, it felt fantastic and empowering. Cars waited. The riders flowed through multi-lane city roads. Police lent a guiding hand. And for a moment, you could see what a city like this looks like when bikes are the dominant language. Paul was buzzing on it. He’s raced in front of packed crowds all over the world, but he said he’d never seen a city move as one like this. For him, it wasn’t about a finish line or a number plate; it was a reminder that riding together is as simple as people deciding that the streets belong to them, too.

Why it stuck | Lessons to bring home

This was not a factory tour. It was a week inside a culture. Their mantra Ride Together, Ride Beyond lives in the ordinary habits. Rides leave from the office door. Lunch is cooked and eaten together. Marketing images are of people riding with mates, not posed solo shots. Product folk test ideas in the dirt and then walk the results back into the workshop. The company knows where it plays. The warmth is what lingers. If you work here, chances are you finish a ride in Marienplatz with dust on your face and a gelato in your hand.

A final view over Stuttgart as we wrap this tale. Time to reflect on why we came, the people we met, and what we learned about FOCUS and the culture that shapes the bikes we ride.

Where to ‘Next’?

Truth is, we didn’t know much about FOCUS before this trip. They aren’t a brand that splashes across screens or dominates the mountain bike world with loud campaigns or endless branding messages. There isn’t a lot of fuss. That’s part of why we jumped at the chance to go over and meet the people, see how they work, and find out what makes them tick.

Hopefully, this story brings back to Australia a bit of that culture, a clearer sense of who FOCUS are and how they see themselves in the busy bike landscape. While so many brands push hard in every direction, FOCUS keep a steady hand on what they know suits them, building bikes that are sensible, durable, and fun, and keeping a workplace that feels collaborative and human. It’s not the flashiest approach, but it’s real. And that’s what makes it stick.

“It’s not the notes you play, it’s the notes you don’t play.” – Miles Davis

Cheers for having us, FOCUS!

Words and photos | Mick Ross, Flow MTB

 

 

 

Editorial Guidelines
At Flow Mountain Bike, we’re committed to delivering engaging and trustworthy content, from product reviews to destination showcases, news, interviews, and features. While many of the brands and destinations we cover may advertise with us, our editorial team operates independently, ensuring our content is guided by expertise and passion—not commercial influence. Sponsored content is always clearly disclosed, and we remain dedicated to providing honest and unbiased coverage across everything we publish. For more details, see our Transparency Report.