Reviving Rocky Mountain Mountain Bikes: A Guide
There was a time, not long ago, when Rocky Mountain Bicycles stood on the edge. Not the kind of edge their riders seek – sharp ridgelines and alpine drops – but a financial precipice, steep and shadowed. The whispers grew louder: creditor protection, layoffs, maybe even the end of the line for a brand that helped write the DNA of modern mountain biking.
Today, those whispers are met with a different sound: the low hum of tire tread on loam, the clink of tools in a reopened North Vancouver R&D lab, and the cautious optimism of a brand given new life.
The Descent: Collapse in Real Time
In 2024, Rocky Mountain Bicycles filed for protection under Canada’s Companies’ Creditors Arrangement Act (CCAA), revealing that the iconic brand, owned by Procycle Group Inc., was staggering under the weight of pandemic-era disruptions, unsold inventory, and leadership instability. (See Rocky Mountain Bikes: Navigating the Trail from Legacy to Uncertainty) The departure of CEO Katy Bond and the interim return of Raymond Dutil added to the sense of a company adrift.
While CCAA filings don’t always mean death for a company, they rarely indicate good health. In Rocky Mountain’s case, the writing was on the wall. Inventory had piled up in warehouses across Canada and Europe, unsold bikes from a production boom that had collided headlong with a cooled post-pandemic market. Dealers were hesitant. Consumers were cautious. And the company’s direction was muddled at best.
The filing was a shockwave that ran through the global bike industry, not just because of what Rocky Mountain meant to riders, but because it underscored how even legacy brands weren’t immune to systemic shocks. Some in the industry saw it as a canary in the coal mine, others as a fluke. But for those who grew up riding Altitudes and Slayers, it felt personal.
Enter Chaos: A New Chapter Begins
Then came the pivot.
In April 2025, a small group of Canadian entrepreneurs operating under the name Chaos Sports Inc. stepped in to acquire Rocky Mountain through a court-supervised sales process. Their mission wasn’t just to rescue a name. It was to rebuild the machine that made the name matter.
Details remain sparse, but the group has made a few things clear. They aren’t looking to flip the brand or fold it into some faceless conglomerate. The play is long-term, centered on preservation and reinvigoration. That means honoring existing warranties, re-establishing the dealer network, and most crucially, breathing life back into the North Vancouver R&D facility that had long served as the company’s heartbeat.
Behind closed doors, industry insiders suggest the buyout wasn’t a high-stakes gamble but a calculated commitment. The new ownership group appears to be made up of riders and entrepreneurs who understand the nuances of bike culture and believe in Rocky Mountain’s potential as both a business and a legacy brand.
Back to the Roots: The North Shore Returns
The decision to resume operations in North Vancouver was no accident. The terrain here is legend: mossy, loamy, technical, and relentless. This is where Rocky Mountain tested its limits—and its frames. To ride the Shore is to understand what made bikes like the Slayer and Pipeline revolutionary in their day. These weren’t just models; they were tools forged in the crucible of one of mountain biking’s most demanding arenas.
Returning to the Shore is a return to a particular kind of R&D ethos. One where riders are engineers, where design is feedback looped through dirt, and where form always follows function.
As one shop owner near Mount Seymour put it, “If you want to know if your bike works, take it up here. You’ll find out.”
Reopening the North Vancouver hub allows Rocky Mountain to reconnect not just with geography, but with culture. This is where freeride was born—where hucks off ladder bridges and nose manuals down rock slabs weren’t just stunts, but a statement. And Rocky was there, building bikes that could take it.
Legacy and Lineage
In 1997, Rocky Mountain was acquired by Procycle Group Inc., a Quebec-based company with a broader portfolio of bicycle brands. While the acquisition initially provided stability and expanded distribution, the culture shifted. Under Procycle, some insiders felt that Rocky Mountain’s agility and innovation-first mindset began to erode. Decisions were more centralized, timelines longer, and the R&D cycle less tied to the terrain that had once defined the bikes.
Leadership changes under Procycle’s tenure also contributed to a sense of drift. Strategic moves often seemed misaligned with the brand’s core identity. Bikes got more expensive but not always better. Global expansion came without adequate infrastructure to support service and customer engagement. By the time COVID hit, Rocky Mountain wasn’t just vulnerable—it was already limping.
Founded in 1981, Rocky Mountain was never the biggest, but it was always among the most respected. The brand built its reputation on geometry experiments, aggressive trail capability, and frames that looked fast standing still. From early alloy hardtails to carbon fiber enduro machines, they often punched above their weight.
More than just a catalog of bike models, Rocky Mountain became a cultural pillar. It sponsored legends, filmed jaw-dropping segments in freeride films, and stayed close to its Canadian roots even as competitors outsourced both production and personality.
And yet, as the industry consolidated and internationalized, Rocky found itself in a bind. Staying independent meant swimming upstream. Pandemic-era chaos only amplified the strain. By 2023, it was clear the company needed either a radical pivot or a graceful exit.
Chaos Sports’ acquisition wasn’t just a rescue. It was a lifeline for a lineage.
Looking Forward: 2025 and Beyond
The new owners have signaled a multi-year strategy. For 2025, the focus is stability: rehiring key engineering and operations staff, refining the product line to avoid SKU bloat, and re-engaging with core retailers.
By 2026, the roadmap gets more ambitious. Expect fresh models, possibly a revamped Slayer or Altitude with bleeding-edge geometry and updated suspension platforms. There’s buzz about increased investment in e-MTBs, but with a measured hand—not a market grab, but a tool for the terrain.
International distribution will also be a focus, particularly in Europe where Rocky Mountain has always had a loyal, if under-served, customer base. Expect the brand to lean into storytelling, too—reinvesting in video, athlete partnerships, and trail advocacy projects that remind people what the name stands for.
A Cautionary Optimism
Still, the trail ahead isn’t smooth. The industry is consolidating. Consumer habits have shifted—more direct-to-consumer sales, more scrutiny on pricing, and greater expectations for post-purchase support. Supply chains remain fragile. And the specter of economic uncertainty looms over all retail.
But if Rocky Mountain can balance innovation with authenticity, if it can tell its story while staying true to the dirt under its wheels, it may emerge not just intact, but invigorated. There are lessons here—about scale, resilience, and the tension between growth and identity.
This isn’t just a brand coming back. It’s a culture refusing to go quietly.
The Soul Remains
There’s something poetic in the idea that a company named for chaos has taken on the task of restoring order to Rocky Mountain’s legacy. In a time when acquisitions often mean dilution, the plan here is preservation.
For now, the trails remain open. The riders are still out there. And if Rocky Mountain Bicycles can hold its line through this next section, the descent might yet give way to another beautiful climb.
Stay tuned. The ride isn’t over.
