Categories: Guest Article

Guest Anatomy of a Photo: Here We Rest

photo by Camille McMillan

@steampunk dropped this beauty of a photo on us. Volumes being spoken here, none of which makes being a pro look so great. Thanks Steamy.

VLVV, Gianni

I’ve waxed lyrical on the darker side of le métier on these pages in the past””on the physical and psychological demands that pro riders endure. But this photograph requires even more of the cycling fan. Tan lines? Check. Eye wear? Well placed. These are pro, right?

But this kind of voyeurism almost inspires an awkward kind of guilt. Witness: the still-open door; the suitcase stand still leaning against the wall””suitcase dumped on the floor beside it; shoes (as beaten and worn down as the rider) askew in the general vicinity of the shoe mat. How do we process these? Dingy hotel. Emaciated rider. Sun-burned face. Chapped lips. Hunched shoulders. Heavy head. Distant eyes. Broken. Total, utter, complete fatigue. And tomorrow they expect panache. Again.

Steampunk

In never-ending search for la volupté, Steampunk is an unreconstructed Canadian west coaster transplanted to Ontario, where he rides on every opportunity and sometimes shows up to work as a professor of history. He is a careful student of the Rules and la vie Velominatus, but is not beyond (occasionally) distilling them down to a single path: la vie Cognoscentus. The BFGs are always locked and loaded (that sound you just heard was your soul being crushed by their power). On a more serious note, he is a staunch advocate of commuting by bike and he also fundraises for Bikes to Rwanda.

View Comments

  • That brings things into perspective a bitty. And I bet he has to share a room too !

  • Having just finished David Millar's Racing Through The Dark, this photo really resonates.

  • I have to say that this image evokes no pity from me.  We are all trapped in a lonely hotel room, cubical, crowded airplane seat, etc.   We will all have to go home tired and beaten down only to return the next day with expectations of our best.  The difference here is that there is no political silliness, no schmoozing, no posturing that decides who gets the promotion, only the limits of your body and mind.  While I see a lot of worry in this photo over whether it was enough today, I also see the satisfaction in knowing it was everything, and what more can you do than leave it all out there today.

  • And with the back story, this photo is chilling. 

    The things that he did for the sport that he loved.

    All this photo needs is a large crucifix on the wall above him and it would be pulitzer prize worthy in my opinion.  Serioulsy.

  • Wow, what a photo. It is honestly amazing to me that such a body, such legs & arms, can carry a guy so far. Just as a modern NFL lineman doesn't really seem to be an athlete to me because of how simply fat some of them are, I would not necessarily see this fella at the beach and think he was a PRO. What they can wring out of such a frame is crazy.

    On another note, how often does a typical PRO swap out shoes? Seems like you'd stick with ones that feel good & have broken in a bit, but maybe not. And helmets. I've always wondered how often they swap those out too.

  • I wonder if he had to wash his own jersey and hang it on the back of the chair to dry like the Prophet did in "La Course en Tete"...

  • I find the photo very evocative. Barry has a way of sitting that makes him look quite, for lack of a better word, "broken." There is a photo of him sitting similarly outside a café with Hincapie and Millar that is printed in the Summer chapter of his book. In this photo, I find the contrast between his slumped posture and his still clenched toes to be particularly telling. It's as though, as exhausted as he is, he still cannot relax, even for a few moments.

  • Considering he was near the end of his career and in light of his subsequent confession, I find interesting his regard in the opposite direction of the slightly-opened door of the dark closet and the mirror...

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