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…
No comments:
Post a Comment