hey, are road bike models supposed to get frostbite?

I’m guessing few people out there know what really goes into creating a photo for a bike company’s marketing needs. That’s understandable; I don’t really know what goes into a doing heart transplants (other than maybe cutting, swapping and err, stitching up?), or brewing fine micro-beers (although I’m hoping they dont share much, if any, of the same technologies or techniques).

If they could fit refrigerated handlebars you’d get a feel for what James is feeling when you test trde this bike. KinesisUK ad, Cycling Plus August 015.

So my recent Alps shoot for KinesisUK road bikes and Reynolds wheels could be that magical eye opener for anyone wanting a true behind-the-scenes glimpse of it all, though I only realised this as we (rider James Brickell and myself) woke in the back of my VW Transporter camper-fied van for our planned sunrise shoot. instead of heavenly rays of golden light bursting through the windscreen, rain was lashing its windows and the mercury was still sitting at a very unappetising 4C.

I’m guessing James’ thoughts lie somewhere between “hot coffee, soon” and “would anyone notice if the photographer didn’t come back from this shoot?” Nikon D750, 16-35 f4 @ 1/1000 f5.6

Making images that “pop” with aspirational grandeur is what makes everyone happy. The client is happy and thinks you are a lens-god (which of course I am). The public thinks you are great for making the product they really, really want to buy seem even more irresistible and justified. And the model/rider thinks you are great… eventually (usually only long after the shoot when sensitivity has returned to their extremities and they get to see how ruddy good you have made them look on a bike.)

And to make images pop means invoking atmosphere to the scene. Usually by sacrificing something to the weather gods.

“Yes that hill climb, yes do it once more please. OK, and just once more again please..” “Nikon D750, 70-200/2.8 @ 1/1000, f6.3.

Considering we’re in the Alps surrounded by majestic mountains, this all sounds easy. So to inject a little realism and dispel some misconceptions, here is how the recent KinesisUK shoot panned out:

Drive an hour to pick up rider.  Drive another 45 minutes to location and scout a bit, looking at the aesthetics of every possible corner of a long twisty road over a remote mountain pass.  Shoot some summery looking, dreamy images as the sun dips (one box ticked).  Drive over pass into land of pizza and eat.  Drive back to pass and camp in van in lay-by so to be ‘ready” and on location for planned sunrise shoot. Wake up at 5am to p*ssing rain and freezing temperatures that weren’t  forecast.  Go for a wee.  Wait another 90 minutes to see if the weather will break in time to still get a pop at some good morning light.  Wonder about life and the meaning of it all.  Leap out of van at first sight of clouds breaking.  Persuade rider that he isn’t cold, really, and tell him to stop shivering and to try to make it look like he is enjoying himself on an aspirational, ‘out there’ finding yourself kind of ride (you know, the sort everyone thinks they want to do, but don’t).  Wait for clouds to part again.  And again.  Allow rider to don warm layers in between hustled shots.  Shoot as for as long as possible at least until either a) rider can still feel his hands to use the brake, or b) the light is still making those images pop.  Finish when either of these give up on you or you’re having to resort to Sellotaping down rider’s nipples flat and invisible through the jersey in an act to convey some kind of warmth to the shots.  Go grab some breakfast.

Reading that back I guess my job isn’t as glamorous as some would think. But I dont think I’d have it any other way.

Somewhere at the end of this road is a warm cafe and breakfast. Possibly. Nikon D750, 24-70/2.8 @ 1/1000 f5.6