Review: Specialized Enduro Comp Shorts

When it comes to shorts, I’m quite a binary sort of guy. If I like a pair, then I’ll literally wear the arse out of them. Whereas if they don’t quite tick the box, they join a sad sub-stratum of the clothes drawer, only coming out for multi-day trips, or times when the washing machine is out of action. Happily, if you’re like me the Specialized Enduro shorts will probably fall into the former category, subject to a couple of quirks, which I’ll elaborate upon below.

On looking at the shorts for the first time, you’d be forgiven for thinking that you don’t get a lot for your money. Other shorts at a similar price point are chucking in zipped leg vents, tonnes of pockets, and even removable liners. The Enduro shorts on the other hand take a less-is-more approach. They’re thin, summer-weight confections. There are no vents, no zips, no built-in hip armour, and no lining, removable or otherwise.

That said, on giving them a closer look a lot of thought has gone into them. The quality seems top notch, with no loose threads or dodgy stitching. The material is double-sided, with a rip-stop pattern and a waffled inner face that’s soft to touch. There’s an elasticated panel that sits over your lower back to prevent builder’s bum, and two velcro waist cinches which provide plenty of adjustment. Pocket-wise, it has just three – two hip pockets, and a small zipped credit card-sized pocket near the knee. Lots of shorts don’t quite get pockets right, and one of my pet hates is shallow ones that regurgitate their contents as soon as you sit down, but the depth of these ones is spot on.

The attention to detail continues with two rubber-coated press-stud closures, and (a new one on me, this) a Velcro fly. Obviously when it comes to Velcro, you gotta take the rough with the smooth, and personally I’d question the wisdom of its use in this particular location. My concerns about chafing or unwanted body hair interfaces during comfort breaks turned out to be baseless, thanks to a stretchy inner baffle, but the hooked side did snag on my gloves.

The light weight of the shorts suggests they’d be unsuitable for year-round use, but they’re respectably wind-proof, and while they don’t put up much resistance to water, nor do they greedily guzzle it up. I’ve worn them on some fairly bitter days with lycra underneath and never wished for anything thicker. They should be plenty versatile enough for most of the year, when combined with the correct underlayer. The fit is roomy in the leg, but without making me look like a goth shuttlecock. The wide leg also makes them play nicely with knee pads, and renders the lack of ventilation zips a non-issue. In terms of durability, I wouldn’t expect the same lifespan from these as a pair of cardboardy DH shorts, but they’ve laughed off all encounters with grit and thorns thus far.

Overall – If you don’t mind spending a bit above average on your clothing, know what sort of underpinnings you like, and want some light but tough shorts that’ll fit happily over the bulkiest kneepads or most thunderous thighs, these are well worth a look. They’re also available in slightly more exciting colours, including a nice mossy green. Just remember to close the fly before chucking them in the wash, unless you want the Velcro gremlins to wreak havoc with your nice merino wool base layers…

Review Info

Barney Marsh

Barney Marsh takes the word ‘career’ literally, veering wildly across the road of his life, as thoroughly in control as a goldfish on the dashboard of a motorhome. He’s been, with varying degrees of success, a scientist, teacher, shop assistant, binman and, for one memorable day, a hospital laundry worker. These days, he’s a dad, husband, guitarist, and writer, also with varying degrees of success. He sometimes takes photographs. Some of them are acceptable. Occasionally he rides bikes to cast the rest of his life into sharp relief. Or just to ride through puddles. Sometimes he writes about them. Bikes, not puddles. He is a writer of rongs, a stealer of souls and a polisher of turds. He isn’t nearly as clever or as funny as he thinks he is.

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