It's been an interesting couple of weeks since the last post. Firstly, I was off to Cwm Rhaedr in Wales to shoot a Local Knowledge article for mountain bike magazine MBR (a 7am start having attended the Rouleur photo book launch the night before may not have been the best idea, however I don't regret a thing). The trail at Cwm Rhaedr really isn't particularly long at a mere 6.7km, but dear lord, it's one of the most fun things I've ever ridden. The start's a bit of a dull fireroad climb, but it quickly becomes seriously fun with a series of slate hairpins which quickly lead into a descent that, while not particularly difficult, is awesome fun. Almost halfway between a BMX track and an mtb descent. I would definitely recommend a visit. Despite the awful conditions (we were riding in low-lying cloud. 1/125 at f2.8, 1600iso for the photographers out there) the photos came out really good. Look out for the article in the February issue of MBR.
Then, on Monday, it was a break from the bikes and onto musicians as I found myself shooting photos of Dangermouse and James Mercer's (he of The Shins fame) upcoming new project Broken Bells. This was a quick job at short notice, and will be contained within an issue of the NME in the new year. Despite the notice and the locations, the results were worth the hustle and sweat to get there in time. Seriously, when I went for a beer after the shoot, I was steaming.
Lastly, this morning I was assisting photographer Sam Jones on a shoot for Heat magazine, with the little chappie who won the X-Factor over the weekend. As someone who's managed to successfully avoid watching a single minute of the X-Factor (or Pop Idol, or any show of its ilk), watching the post X-Factor success entourage mania first hand and in full swing was a bizarre experience.
Sometimes forces beyond your control conspire to do everything in their power to rigorously screw up your day. Want a simple shot of something standing RIGHT THERE in front of you? That's when your camera mysteriously back-focuses. Got a total one off shot at something? That'll be when your flash misfires.
Then, every once in a while, the heavens will align, Zeus himself (or, if you're not of that affiliation, the Flying Spaghetti Monster) will smile down upon you from Mount Olympus and deign that this will be the time it goes right. This shot of Dave Millar was one of those times.
I was sat down at the top of one of the climbs, and I caught a flash of red, white and blue out of the corner of my eye. The AF-on button got pressed and I managed to get one frame off. This is usually a surefire out-of-focus 'bin it' moment. Not this time. Somehow I'd managed to shoot a photo of a specific rider through a bunch of riders about 30 deep from side to side, and not only is he sharp, he's also perfectly framed by the riders in front of him. I guess sometimes luck is just on your side.
I was shooting in Mendrisio for Cycle Sport Magazine, and although the feature I wanted to shoot didn't quite go to plan, you should be seeing my photos in some upcoming issues. The Dave Millar one ran in the World's edition of Cycling Weekly.
The newest edition of Cycle Sport contains a feature I shot at the beginning of October with Chris Froome in London. Not my usual style of photography, but Chris was an absolute gent, and gamely posed for some rather dubious photo ops. This was the day after the London criterium stage of the Tour of Britain, and the streets had been taken over by cyclists in flouro high-vis jackets, hence the slightly odd angles of some of the portraits (it was decided we didn't want the Sky Ride in the background you see).
Good luck Chris with his new team at Team Sky, and go out and buy this magazine. Put food on my table.
By the way, come back and check this blog next week. I'm making a start on some non-cycling portrait projects, and I should have my first results shortly.
For the rest of the winter, as well as recent shoots, projects and updates, I'll be periodically posting up some stories of last seasons races, along with both new and old photos that weren't published. This is the first such post, and the subject, the Eroica race in Tuscany. Or, to give it its new (and far more inferior name), the Monte Paschi Strada Bianche.
This was shot from the other side of the valley, a few kms away. The rest of the race photographers were behind me, ready to take the same shot as they did last year.
This was the first race I'd ever shot from a motorbike, and let me tell you, it's nowhere near as easy as it looks. Imagine trying to focus a telescope on a distant star while constantly being juddered by an earthquake – it's actually pretty similar. The race is made that little bit more difficult by the fact we weren't allowed to overtake the bunch while we were racing on the Eroica's trademark white dirt roads. This lead to a large amount of time being stuck in the race convoy behind the peloton. Can you stop for a second and imagine how much dust gets kicked up in there? I felt like a used vacuum cleaner bag by the end of the race, and my camera was even more unhappy…
Not only was the back of the peloton a dustball, you'd also get passed by riders with only an inch's breadth between you.
Not only was this the first time I'd ever shot from a motorbike, it was also the first time I'd ever been to Italy. Now, ordinarily, I can speak just enough of a language to communicate and get by. Even in Spain, through a tiny, weeny amount of words at my disposal, I can get by. Italy, however, was a whole other story. It's such a flowing language that you can't help but be baffled by it. Luckily, I've been over to Italy a few times this year, and as such, can now almost, slightly understand what people may vaguely be talking about. But back in March, it was all a bit like this:
However, the language barrier was made up by the beauty of the scenery and the sheer lunacy of the race. I'd have wanted at least a few inches of suspension and 2 1/2 of rubber between me and the ground, but these guys were hairing down descents at speeds similar to on the road, the only difference being slightly thicker tyres than normal. At one point I was next to a rider doing 60kph, now that's not massive for a descent, but this was heading practically vertically downwards towards a gravel hairpin. Madness.
This guy was a mentalist. Not only is this a 60kph corner, but he also chased after the breakaway on his own, and unsuccessfully for two thirds of the race.
The best thing about the Eroica, though is the climbs. These old roads were from before people realised 'Hey, if we just edged up the hill, do a hairpin turn, then edge up the hill some more, the road won't be as steep!' The result is climbs that may as well be a stairway to heaven. And not just one, lord no. The damn road is barely ever flat, with the last three climbs, two of which are on the white dirt roads, being every bit as steep as any climb in the Spring classics. At one point, as the selection was being made on one of the last ascents, we were going so slowly on the motorbike infront of the group, I couldn't understand for the life of me how Alberto, my moto-pilot, was stopping from skidding backwards (it's something to do with shaft-driven motorbikes, apparently).
This was the final climb on the strada bianche, and were the selection was made before Lovkvist went and dropped everyone on the way into Siena.
The best bit about the whole race, however, was the finish. Siena is absolutely stunning. You may have seen it in the Bond film Quantum of Solace, which shows the famous Palio Di Siena horse race (a bi-annual horse race through the town's closed streets). We had an experience similar to that of the horse riders: blasting through the town with barriers lined with fans at frankly absurd and dangerous speeds. The finish line itself is in the town square, a natural ampitheatre, and an apt place to finish such a beautiful race.
What you can't see here, is that to the left is the stunning town square. It was damn difficult to see what it all actually looked like and still get a photo of the winner. This shot was fun as Cycle Sport journo Steve Farrand had blagged a spot in the commentary box for me.
That's what the square actually looked like!
I've been to a fair few races over the past few years, and that includes the major classics and Tour de France mountain stages, and I think this was easily the best experience. The route does a figure of eight, and the traffic isn't as stifling as it is during, say Paris-Roubaix, so you'd have loads of opportunities to intercept it (incidentally, although the Eroica has been likened to Paris-Roubaix, it's so hilly, it really isn't a fair comparison. A certain British pro commented to a journo after 'that's absolutely fucking nothing like Paris-Roubaix'. So there you are, from the horse's mouth).
If you want to experience cycling at its best, you'd do far worse than the Eroica. Flights to Italy in March are quite cheap, you know…
