Categories: Look Pro

Look Pro, Part VI: Move Sur la Plaque

GilBEAR takes it onto the big ring

There’s something not quite the same about how the Pros climb and how we climb. They go faster, I suppose. There’s that. They’re skinnier, too, and climb better for their weight to boot. And they’re stronger, that probably helps although I can’t speak from personal experience. I’ve also noticed that while under pressure, theirs is still a Magnificent Stroke, while ours typically start tracing the lines of the Hurt Box. Their cadence exudes Fluidly Harmonic Articulation and hardly seems to notice changes in gradient; whereas the slightest change in pitch brings us to erratically dissonant chaos.

We can go slower and with a less Magnificent Stroke, and still look pretty cool doing it. Speed is relative, and so long as no one else is around, we can look like we’re going fast, too. And we can rock our shoulders and grimace and do it all like the Pros. And then we can practice and practice and practice but there will still be a fundamental element missing, a certain je ne c’est quoi.

And that brings us to Part VI in our Look Pro series.

You know that part of the climb near the top? That part where it gets less steep? That part where you ease back and bask in the pain of a job well done? That’s the part where the Pros move Sur la Plaque. In case you don’t speak the language of the peloton, that’s French for, “Put that thing in the big ring, fucktard.”

Aside from a willingness to suffer more than anyone else in the most painful discipline in cycling, the key to being a good climber is to continue to pile coals on the fire as you approach the top of the climb and power over the crest. Per Richard Virenque, 7-times (give or take, its not worth looking up) winner of the competition in the Tour where some sadistic asshole puts a sprint at every hill they can measure:

You have to be able to move sur la plaque as soon as you’re at the top. I generally change gear 300m from the top.

That makes it almost the same as a fact, so take it from Tricky Dicky and think about these points next time you’re shopping at the Five and Dime:

Getting air back in your lungs can wait until the way down. Power over the top and you’ll shed 3/4 of the riders you’re with.
Your body is governed by ancillary concerns like “stopping the intolerable pain” and “not dying”. Those types of concerns have no place in cycling. Like training a dog, the only solution is to teach your body to stop fussing so much by going harder.
Your body gets used to the rhythm of your cadence and will send signals discouraging you from lifting it as the gradient eases. This is what the shifters are for. Use them to fool your body, assuming your body is as much of a dumbass as mine.
Two cogs roughly equals the big ring. If you’re going to shift twice, forget the right shifter and go for the left.
As you approach the top of the hill, casually exaggerate the motion of your left hand as you cram it into the big ring and rise out of the saddle to power through. The riders who managed to stay with you will wimper right before the elastic snaps.

Come to think of it, it’s no wonder Maillot a Pois competition is dominated by dopers.

frank

The founder of Velominati and curator of The Rules, Frank was born in the Dutch colonies of Minnesota. His boundless physical talents are carefully canceled out by his equally boundless enthusiasm for drinking. Coffee, beer, wine, if it’s in a container, he will enjoy it, a lot of it. He currently lives in Seattle. He loves riding in the rain and scheduling visits with the Man with the Hammer just to be reminded of the privilege it is to feel completely depleted. He holds down a technology job the description of which no-one really understands and his interests outside of Cycling and drinking are Cycling and drinking. As devoted aesthete, the only thing more important to him than riding a bike well is looking good doing it. Frank is co-author along with the other Keepers of the Cog of the popular book, The Rules, The Way of the Cycling Disciple and also writes a monthly column for the magazine, Cyclist. He is also currently working on the first follow-up to The Rules, tentatively entitled The Hardmen. Email him directly at rouleur@velominati.com.

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View Comments

harminator says:

Apr 30 2011 at 6:15 pm

Just got back from my local 104k circuit - pretty hilly with one glorious motherfucker (Wiseman's Ferry anyone?). I applied this lesson throughout, regularly saying to myself -
"Put that thing in the big ring, fucktard."
Net result? I totally bonked at 90k. I was communing with butterflies.
But before that I totally looked pro.
G'phant says:

May 1 2011 at 3:42 am

I love climbs. I don't think I do them very well. But I love 'em. When we were in Tuscany last year my wife would often catch me gazing wistfully out the car window. She assuemd I was admiring the countryside. I foolishly owned up that I was, in fact, imagining myself climbing the hill. Apparently that's "not what most people come to Tuscany for". Fancy that.

I timed myself up Makara Hill (from the Makra side) a couple of weeks ago. Have been doing no intervals at all, so wasn't expecting anything flash. So was quite happy when I managed 9:45. Until, that is, I asked my mate Dave what time he does. "Oh, about 7 minutes". I obviously looked a little crushed. I told him my time. I think in an effort to make me feel better he said "Yeah, but how hard were you pushing it?" "Er, quite a lot, actually". Sigh. Bring on the intervals ...
Steampunk says:

May 1 2011 at 4:15 am

@G'phant
Top to bottom, this sounds about right. Flying into the Phoenix a few weeks ago, I was imagining what must have been spectacular (if desperately hot) rides through the local mountains along the little strips of road visible from the plane. Every hill is an opportunity to imagine myself light as a feather and hopping out of the saddle for several minutes on end. In practice, it never seems to work that way...
Souleur says:

May 1 2011 at 6:24 am

A'merckx crashdummy!
SupermanSam says:

May 1 2011 at 6:49 am

The 1 in 20 has to be the sweetest hill climb in Melbourne (outer suburbs), in Aus. A perfect gradient (constant 5%, who'd have thunk it by the name), and a usually fairly quiet treed road of a weekend morning. Just 15-20 mins of climbingriding always hits the spot, either a kick up to the next level when fit, or a good kick in the arse when unfit.
Just don't check out things like the cycle2max website, the top times posted there by some of those kids are hard to read...
Pedale.Forchetta says:

May 1 2011 at 9:27 am

That's a beautiful image.
Sure the photo of Gilbert, but also the image of us climbing our hills.
Roadslave525 says:

May 1 2011 at 3:03 pm

@g'Phant... I hear you brother... My wife has ceased to believe the best of me when she sees me looking wistfully out of the people-mover windows, and has now learnt to ask... "At this point of the climb, do you see yourself seated, or standing?... If the latter, you'd better be in the big ring, you Fucktard (even though you ride a compact, you pussy)". ..
Jim Morehouse says:

May 1 2011 at 3:42 pm

This is standard operating procedure. I've been doing this since 1973, and yes, kicking it in a bigger gear near the top and pushing over it will make you a hated man in the peloton... that's the idea. Train that way, every day. And while you're at it, lose twenty pounds. And while you're doing that, while training on the climbs, practice accelerating on the steeper parts. Not as an out and out attack, although that's useful too. But rather, just speed up to put the hurt on. If you can do it in training, it won't seem so hard in a race, when it matters.
Minion says:

May 1 2011 at 5:17 pm

@Roadslave
Along similar lines, SWMBO has learnt to relax when we're out and about, and my head gets turned every couple of minutes - she's realized I'm not perving on every pretty young thing that walks by, but I'm checking out the bikes. Of course, when it's a pretty young thing on a bike, what am I supposed to do? For consistency's sake, f course.
G'phant says:

May 1 2011 at 5:34 pm

@Minion
"SWMBO". Well played. Wonder if Rumpole ever found his way stateside. Guess we might find out ...