We close out the 6 Days of the Giro with our sixth and final installment.
A body at rest, stays at rest. A body in motion, stays in motion. Things get a bit more ambiguous when it comes to a body on a bicycle tearing down a twisty mountain descent at speed, particularly in the rain. But it is here, on the boundary between clarity and ambiguity, where things get interesting.
Cornering feels a bit like you’re stealing from Physics, as if you’re getting away with something. Momentum, as fundamental as it is, doesn’t know what’s good for us and stubbornly wants to carry us on its merry path. The faster we go, the bigger its influence becomes and the harder we push against it, balancing on the knife’s edge between our body’s lean and the bike’s pull. For those skilled in this craft, the bicycle and rider carve through the bend in perfect harmony.
I’m not particularly good at cornering, which is to say I’m not particularly good at descending. Its a shame, too, because given my size I’m not very good at climbing, either. The way to get better is to practice, and not to give Rule #64 too much thought. You will crash if you want to get better, but you mustn’t lose your nerve. A nervous descender is a bad descender and everyone knows where to find bad descenders.
The riders getting the most practice in this discipline must surely be les grimpeurs for it seems they would be riding down all those mountains they’re riding up. The surprising truth is that this does not always appear to be the case; one need look no farther than Andy Schleck to find evidence of that particular postulate. Furthermore, one would think that a professional, who by the very nature of their occupation is quite used to finding themselves on the tarmac, would be most able to come off and not lose their nerve. This, also, doest not always appear to be the case.
The Giro, known for its narrow mountain roads, is won as much on the descents as it is on the climbs. Who can forget the 1988 Giro, which was won on the descent of the Gavia, not its climb. Or the 2002 and 2005 editions when Il Falco used every millimeter of road as he swept through the hairpin bends to distance his rivals. This year, Brad Wiggins had already put himself on the back foot on GC when he came off on a slow bend and spent the rest of the stage riding like his tires were made of glass. On the same stage, Nibali attacked and came off on a high speed corner before jumping back on his machine and rejoining the leaders moments later. The difference is a question of not only skill, but fearlessness.
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@Chris
Hmm, very nice here, Chris. I'll work on this and try it out the next time I'm cyclin', which will be tomorrow.
I'll test my legs, then my brain + eyes. Should be fun!
My god, Frank. What a final statement. One guy jumps back on, one guy rides on tires of glass. I watched that live and was amazed at the crashes, the jump backs, and the reaction of Nibali v. Wiggins. That right there sums it up: why is one Descendeur better than the other?
Fearlessness.
Was it:
@G'rilla
I think it is "everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face."
@Ron
Casually Deliberate is crucial on the drop, you have to be relaxed on the bike so you can carve the turns and let the bike absurd the irregularities in the road.
@Mikael Liddy That's awesome. I think that stage is when I first realized the breadth of Sagan's talent.
@Mikael Liddy I will be studying this video. Repeatedly.
Love Carlton Kirby. My favorite cycling commentator.
This one bears study as well. If only the resolution were better.
She walks in beauty... But actually the photo in the title is mine, ah!
@Tobin
I find these thoughts go through my mind AFTER the descent - often that night when I go to bed, in a semi-sleep state I get these sort of images in my head.
I'm a middling descender - not fearless or good enough to be with the fastest (being tall doesn't help) but I won't be the slowest either. I try not to think about it before or during, so I guess that's why it bubbles up later.
I used to be a fearless descendeur until I developed a propensity for speed wobbles. Not just a mild vibration either; massive tank-slappers where the frame feels like its made of rubber. Has happened on different bikes under different conditions but always over 65kmh. I've tried all the tricks I know and have even changed bikes a few times too. Hasn't happened with the current steed (Pinarello FPQuattro) which is promising However, I suspect its me and related to speed, not the descent. As I once read a pro-mechanic being quoted: elite bike riders don't get the wobbles.
Great topic and article.