Hats Off
Taken with Canon 5DI have watched the Tour de France on TV probably about as much as the next person and I suspect my level of cycling experience falls in the lower bracket of the average group. So let’s say that cycling doesn’t find a place in my own personal nirvana – and it would probably take me a while to consider taking it up even when I have conquered the vast array of interests currently floating around in my grey ether. Having said all that, I have a great admiration of the kind of raw determination that saw Scott reach the South Pole. (The fact he didn’t make it back is irrelevant – as in Scott’s words, “But we have been to the Pole and we shall die like gentlemen”.)
I am sure you will agree that you could not appreciate the hardships and extreme circumstances Scott had to endure unless you had been there – and if you had been there you would not be reading this now (for a number of reasons…). Being there is in no way substituted by media portrayal or imagination.
What first struck me as we idled up to our viewing location at the base of L’Alpe d’Huez was the atmosphere of competition. Apprehension hangs in air like tropical humidity; you can’t see it, you can’t smell it, you can’t hear it but boy, can you feel it. It’s as if the pinpoint focus of thousands of people sweeps you along like a current towards one point – the finish. When I looked in the direction from which the riders were coming I felt uneasiness, as if I was trying to go against the flow, which unconsciously forced me to turn around and look up, and up, to the finish. Strangely, from where I was located I couldn’t even see the finish but I knew it was there, it was an unseen beacon of accomplishment.
It was a baking hot day, the kind of dry heat that seems to wick all the moisture from your mouth with every spoken word. We were settled down in our position around midday, which meant that the sun was high in a northern hemisphere summer sky beating straight down, forcing us to stand flat backed against a wall in an attempt to stay within the thin line of shadow it afforded. Ever since I had a camera failure in Malaysia from sweat running down my finger and into the shutter release I have been cautious in hot and sweaty situations. This was one of those situations – we had driven 4 hours in an air-conditioned car and after 30 minutes in this heat the sweat was running. It was about this time I re-calibrated my respect for the guys who had covered a similar distance that morning, in the same conditions, by sheer muscle power, driven by their determination to reach the objective.
Anyone who knows me will most likely admit that I am not the fittest person they know; in fact talk of my fitness may even bring a smile to their face. The fact that my brother was one of cyclists this day brought even closer to me what extreme levels of fitness and determination are necessary to run with this crowd. I am aware of the levels of training that were put in, not only for this particular event, but in general for the years prior. I can quite honestly say I cannot really imagine fitness at these levels. More important than that though is the level of determination I know my brother possesses, just one look at him would have terriers conceding defeat in a rabbit tug of war. Like I said, I knew this beforehand but to be put in the context of this event and to get a taste of the stuff required filled me with pride.
My role was to photograph, and photograph I did. I have around 100 great shots of cyclists I have never met before and am unlikely to ever see again. Then, as Murphy would have it, I was distracted the exact moment my brother cycled into view and to make matters worse he was one of only a handful of cyclists that rode directly behind another rider in relation to where I was located. By the time I got a clear shot, and had re-zoomed, re-focused and flicked the shutter speed up he was directly opposite me. Unfortunately I hadn’t had enough time to zoom out fully and at this point was still too long and so I caught an interesting crop! Somehow it didn’t seem to matter that I hadn’t caught “the shot”; I was there and had felt it.
It is highly unlikely (on the same scale as Elvis really working in a fish shop) that I will ever attempt any such display of effort, or even consider it; I am just not made of the right material. All the same, being there, wrapped in that atmosphere and feeling that heat that I found a new level of respect.
My hat is off to you.
What first struck me as we idled up to our viewing location at the base of L’Alpe d’Huez was the atmosphere of competition. Apprehension hangs in air like tropical humidity; you can’t see it, you can’t smell it, you can’t hear it but boy, can you feel it. It’s as if the pinpoint focus of thousands of people sweeps you along like a current towards one point – the finish. When I looked in the direction from which the riders were coming I felt uneasiness, as if I was trying to go against the flow, which unconsciously forced me to turn around and look up, and up, to the finish. Strangely, from where I was located I couldn’t even see the finish but I knew it was there, it was an unseen beacon of accomplishment.
It was a baking hot day, the kind of dry heat that seems to wick all the moisture from your mouth with every spoken word. We were settled down in our position around midday, which meant that the sun was high in a northern hemisphere summer sky beating straight down, forcing us to stand flat backed against a wall in an attempt to stay within the thin line of shadow it afforded. Ever since I had a camera failure in Malaysia from sweat running down my finger and into the shutter release I have been cautious in hot and sweaty situations. This was one of those situations – we had driven 4 hours in an air-conditioned car and after 30 minutes in this heat the sweat was running. It was about this time I re-calibrated my respect for the guys who had covered a similar distance that morning, in the same conditions, by sheer muscle power, driven by their determination to reach the objective.
Anyone who knows me will most likely admit that I am not the fittest person they know; in fact talk of my fitness may even bring a smile to their face. The fact that my brother was one of cyclists this day brought even closer to me what extreme levels of fitness and determination are necessary to run with this crowd. I am aware of the levels of training that were put in, not only for this particular event, but in general for the years prior. I can quite honestly say I cannot really imagine fitness at these levels. More important than that though is the level of determination I know my brother possesses, just one look at him would have terriers conceding defeat in a rabbit tug of war. Like I said, I knew this beforehand but to be put in the context of this event and to get a taste of the stuff required filled me with pride.
My role was to photograph, and photograph I did. I have around 100 great shots of cyclists I have never met before and am unlikely to ever see again. Then, as Murphy would have it, I was distracted the exact moment my brother cycled into view and to make matters worse he was one of only a handful of cyclists that rode directly behind another rider in relation to where I was located. By the time I got a clear shot, and had re-zoomed, re-focused and flicked the shutter speed up he was directly opposite me. Unfortunately I hadn’t had enough time to zoom out fully and at this point was still too long and so I caught an interesting crop! Somehow it didn’t seem to matter that I hadn’t caught “the shot”; I was there and had felt it.
It is highly unlikely (on the same scale as Elvis really working in a fish shop) that I will ever attempt any such display of effort, or even consider it; I am just not made of the right material. All the same, being there, wrapped in that atmosphere and feeling that heat that I found a new level of respect.
My hat is off to you.
posted by NIMBY at Friday, August 11, 2006
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