The htSQD Paradox: Closing the Doors at the Top of the Podium

Despite total dominance and 37 wins from Keegan Swenson, Santa Cruz's htSQD is closing in 2025. A look at what this means for the future of professional gravel.

The htSQD Paradox: Closing the Doors at the Top of the Podium

I’ve always been fascinated by the lifecycle of "superteams." In Formula 1 or European road cycling, there is a certain logic to the rise and fall—sponsors pivot, budgets balloon, or the winning becomes so routine that it loses its marketing luster. But the news that htSQD is closing its doors at the end of 2025 feels different. It’s a bit of a head-scratcher, particularly because they aren't going out on a low note. They are going out at the absolute top of the game.

If you follow the North American off-road scene, htSQD (Santa Cruz’s high-performance gravel and marathon wing) was the gold standard. They were meant to be the dirt-road equivalent of the legendary Syndicate downhill team. And for five years, they were exactly that.

Keegan Swenson’s run with the squad has been nothing short of a statistical anomaly: 37 wins, three Life Time Grand Prix titles, two Leadville 100 course records, and a World Championship. Then you have Alexis Skarda consistently haunting the podium at Cape Epic and Ruth Holcomb proving that the next generation is already here.

So why pull the plug?

Tobin Ortenblad is staying with Santa Cruz in a hybrid racing/brand role, but for the rest of that quartet, the future is suddenly unwritten. It’s an odd moment for the sport. We’re told gravel is the "industry’s favored child," the one category where people are actually still buying bikes and gear. If the most dominant team in the most profitable discipline can’t (or chooses not to) keep the lights on, what does that say about the professionalization of the sport?

I tend to think of this as the "Canary in the Gravel Mine." It might not be a sign of the sport's decline, but rather a shift in how brands view the return on investment for a traditional team structure. Perhaps the "privateer" model—where riders manage their own micro-sponsorships—is becoming the preferred path again, even for the heavy hitters.

Still, there’s something bittersweet about seeing a winning machine dismantled while the engine is still hot. It leaves a vacuum at the front of the pack that I’m curious to see filled in 2026.