Why Mad Dog

I've always believed that if something can be improved, it should be. Whether in competition shooting, motor racing, business, or product design, I found myself asking the same question: Why is it done that way? Sometimes there was a good answer. Sometimes there wasn't.

The Ricochet began in much the same way. Over the years I owned and wore a number of high-end watches. Some were beautifully made. Some were historically significant. Some were engineering masterpieces. Yet almost all of them contained details that frustrated me: Bezels with unwanted movement; Cases and crystals that could be scratched or damaged; Bands secured by spring bars that could fail; Sharp edges that snagged on clothing or equipment. Features that existed because of tradition rather than necessity. None of these issues were major. But they were there.

The more I looked, the more I began to wonder what would happen if a watch was designed from a completely different starting point. Not around heritage. Not around marketing. Not around what had always been done before. But around function.

The goal was simple: To build the watch I couldn't buy.

Every component was questioned. Every detail was examined. Every material was challenged. If a better solution existed, we used it. If it didn't exist, we developed one.

The result was never intended to be fashionable. It was never intended to follow trends. It was never intended to imitate anything else on the market. It was intended to be uncompromising.

After five years of research, development, redesigns, testing, and more than a few setbacks, the Ricochet was finally complete.

Only fifty will ever be made. Not because scarcity is fashionable, but because this project was never about producing as many watches as possible. It was about producing the watch I believed should exist.

The Ricochet is the result of that philosophy. Nothing more. Nothing less.