Irish Hammer Strikes

Some rides are planned. Others are felt. This one—this was born in the blood.

Stage 6 of the Tour de France hadn't finished waking when Healy made his move. A twitch in the bunch. A flick of the bars. Bayeux still behind them and the break already on his shoulders. The SuperSix EVO LAB71 serving as his steed, he chased it like a ghost only he could see. Not by luck. Not by chance. Something sacred. Something earned.

For 60 kilometers the break took shape, splintered, and reformed again. When it settled, it bore the mark of a rider unwilling to wait. Healy rode with the weight of silence, then cracked it wide with 42 kilometers to go—not a glance, nor nod, nor gesture. A spark—a turn of the cranks— and the long road to Vire ahead.

His SuperSix EVO LAB71 carried more than speed. It carried a name. It carried a history. And today, it propelled him past the field, past the chasers, and into the wide-open arms of a lonely finish line.

By the time the flag dropped, Ireland had found its roar again. Five years since the country’s last stage win. But never like this. Not this raw. Not this brave.

One rider in command.
One machine made for the mission.
One day that belongs to Ben.
To Ireland.

Sláinte.