Looking through a contact sheet of photos from a bike race, something was missing. The young photographer had a pretty good eye for location, finding decent background. He froze the action. Everything in focus. Still …
Then it hit me. His photos lacked humanity. We sat down and had a little discussion. What did he see when he looked through his viewfinder?
A bike with a human engine on it, he said.
Bingo!
Long before Lance Armstrong decided to use it for the title of his book, I told the photographer it isn’t about the bike. It’s about the rider.
The human element is what moves us. Connects us.
To his credit, he took my advice to heart. The next race his photos came to life. He brought the essence of bike racing to the forefront.
I think about that conversation when I find myself surrounded by bike riders. Maybe at an event, or at a popular trail.
It especially jumps out at me when someone asks, “Did you see that bike?”
Ah, no, I didn’t. I have to make a concerted effort to notice a bike if someone’s riding it. Heck, I have trouble noticing what the rider is wearing.
I’m a face person. When I see someone, it gets embedded in my memory. I know when I see them again, sometimes catching them off guard when I tell them when we first crossed paths.
This week’s question: When a cyclist rolls past, what do you note? The bike? The kit? The smile?
First I check the kit, to see if it might be someone I know. Then it’s the face, to get an idea of how hard they’re going and to wave, and finally I check out the bike, because there are a lot of nice builds and color schemes out there
I notice the overall form and shape of the rider + bike. It tells me about effort, comfort, if there is e-assist happening, maybe the mental state of the rider, and helps me empathize with the rider. I notice faces, frames, components, but only after I’ve taken in the overall form and shape of the rider and bike together.
I almost always focus on the bike. Spotting a unique build makes me smile.