Note: Following the result of a lifetime for Laurie Greenland at World Champs 2016, this feature was written by the young Brit’s dad, Ben, and published in Hurly Burly – the downhill yearbook – in December ’16.
Words: Ben Greenland || Photos: Sebastian Schieck & Sven Martin
I can’t lie, I’m still buzzing after Worlds and I’m writing three months later! The track was the hardest of the year I think, and getting to see it trackside was a real pleasure for a DH fan. Practice was wild every session: every section was mint, the WRC of MTB, non-stop action with the riders putting on a great show getting up to speed. Respect to all the riders who got up to race-pace on that track.
I’ve been asked to write about what it takes to get to that point when your kid is getting silver at Worlds; the sacrifices and the good times. I have to be honest and say that I mainly just took him riding and had a load of fun hanging out. DH got us through good times and bad so I guess that Laurie’s Worlds run represents the pinnacle of the journey so far. That said, there’s so many people behind the race making it all click into place, from Gemma at home, Andy his trainer, to the MS Mondraker crew and British Cycling team giving us this opportunity, plus BC’s support through the week with line analysis. Then tips from other Brits trackside like Steve and Rat, there’s so much going on to make sure the riders and bikes are at their peak out there.
Watching the race was a rollercoaster ride. Laurie’s run was just on the right side of the edge, hitting all the lines he had worked on looked pretty wild but they were the lines he had been working on all week. There was a point when I thought he had tucked his front wheel and lost it but he just popped out of it, still at warp speed and straight into the next corner. That was about as much excitement as I could cope with down at the finish watching the screen!
After he came down it was clear he had laid down a big run and I was just hoping he would get a podium, thinking mistakenly it was top five like at World Cups… Then as rider after rider didn’t beat his time I began to worry he would actually win it, maybe a crazy thing to say but at this stage of his career that would be a hard thing to cope with. Year on year the progression has been worked for and I wouldn’t be surprised if there is more to come, so second in his first year as a senior really is the dream result, showing his progress, making people take notice of all the work being put in but keeping Laurie so motivated to keep improving, training and enjoying the journey. Best result possible, and 2017 will be another fun challenge I’m sure…
Ben Greenland is father to Laurie and an all-round good guy who likes to ride and race bikes.
Read this and many more features like it, plus round-by-round accounts of the 2016 UCI DH World Cup season and pore over hundreds of the best images of the season in Hurly Burly book. Buy yours now and relive every moment of one of the most exhilarating seasons in the sport's history.
]]>Welcome to the fold Boris, and we look forward to seeing your stunning images in our 2017 yearbook.
An extract from Hurly Burly
Words and photo by Boris ‘Maddog’ Beyer
Here I am, it’s a sunny but cold day in November and instead of riding my bike, I’m sitting in front of my Computer typing these words. What to write about, where to start and my first real story in English?
Maybe you should know that I’m Boris, some kind of weird and crazy passionate MTB editor and photographer working for a German MTB magazine, Mountainbike Rider.
When I started working for the mag back in 2010 I got a list of photographers to contact if I needed any photos from World Cups. I picked Sven Martin out of the list and produced my first interview using his pictures. Some months later I thought it was time to visit my first World Cup as an editor, so I asked my boss if I could use our company car and the next day I was on my way to the third World Cup round of the 2011 season in Leogang, Austria.
I had no money, no accommodation and actually no f*ing idea what I was really doing. That how my chaotic freestyle road-triping started. I met a German racer who offered me a sofa so I din’t have to sleep in the car. The next day I felt like a kid at Christmas! Somehow I managed to sneak into the gondola and made it to the top of the course, for sure without media accreditation. At this point I had no idea what it really meant to work at a World Cup. Actually, I was way too excited and not cool enough to hide my excitement. That weekend was pretty intense. I managed to get some pics, Aaron Gwin won the Race by 2.1 seconds, I got very drunk, passed out and had to drive back to Germany with a massive hangover. I loved it!
I also met Sven for the first time in person, it was just a quick hello and I recognised that he was super busy and absolutely in his zone like a racer before his run. It clearly wasn’t just a job for him, he was passionate and kind of obsessed, in a good way. I was impressed and had the idea to produce a story about him at the last World Cup Round of 2011 in Val di Sole. And so again I was on my way to another country with no money or accommodation. But this time I had to sleep outside on a beanbag. I didn’t care because I was super stoked to be there.
The story, One Man Army, wasn´t just about the work next to the track but also the time in the pits, the late nights in the media room or climbing the roof at midnight to steal the internet cable, and also Sven’s influence on riders. So many riders asked him for line choices or needed some good motivating words. He obviously wasn´t just a photographer, he was part of the scene.
On finals day Sven surprised me, asking if I wanted to help him shooting the race instead of taking pics of him shooting the race. For sure! He gave me a spare camera with massive 300mm lens. I was super nervous and felt the adrenaline pumping through my veins. With no time to get used of the camera and the fixed lens, I had one chance only to get a picture of the final run of each rider. Gwin got the fifth win of his 2011 season and clearly took the overall. It was amazing; not just because of shooting the race, but also the unreal feeling to be so close to the track and to see the guys pushing the limits in their race runs, and the special atmosphere in the finish area and later in the pits. I loved every single second of that weekend and was totally hooked.
In 2012 I tried everything to make it at least to the European World Cups, it became like a drug and felt weird and frustrating to watch the overseas races online. All I wanted was to lie next to the track in the mud, dust or wet grass and see the riders in action. I wanted to feel the adrenaline again and again. I wanted to be there when the top riders crossed the finish line turning their heads to see if they got a green or red light. I wanted to be there to see them pushing the limits, to see their crazy lines, to see them winning or losing.
I spent days and nights in airports (because of the cheap flights), travelled hours squashed in the back of cars, slept on floors, sofas or trailers in the pits and had just the food from the media rooms, which was mostly shit. I was there when Loic Bruni won his first Junior World Champ title in Leogang and I still have our first selfie on my phone. I was there when Greg Minnaar beat Gee Atherton by 0.58 seconds and won his second Title. I was there when Peaty celebrated his 20th World Champs and again passed out and woke up in the back of the Schwalbe trailer the next morning (with a penis drawing on my face). And I partied with Stevie Smith after he won the World Cup finals in Norway. Those are just a couple of special memories, bur every second was unforgettable.
Luckily I got the opportunity to travel the three following seasons (2013-2015) with the Bulls DH Gravity Team, which was managed by our magazine, as a team photographer. I didn’t got paid extra for it, but who cares? A dream came true and as a bonus I had real breakfast and dinner and I didn’t have to sleep on the floor. To be honest, thinking back it’s hard to separate the seasons, races and results. It all feels like one hell of a time with an unreal amount of funny, crazy and also exhausting memories.
I became a part of the World Cup scene and made friends from all over the world – riders, mechanics, team managers, media guys, track builders and race organisers. The pits became my second home. I love the feeling to arrive early at the races, to see how the pits and bikes are built up, to walk around and say hello to everybody, to hear their travel, off-season, or party stories. It really is like a big family you travel the world with. We share so many experiences, adventures and also problems together.
Over time most people came to know me as ‘the crazy German’, and later Sam Dale gave me the name ‘Maddogboris’. I’ve visited some of the guys in their home countries and they have visited me in Germany. One of the fastest guys out there was crying on my shoulder after he punctured in his race run. My jersey and #finishlineselfie collection gets bigger and bigger, I got my first Pithaircut by Brook MacDonald and my first Pittattoo by Steve Peat, Tahnée Seagrave and Micayla Gatto. And instead of passing out at the after race parties anymore, I now spend hours in the media room working. But not to forget my problems with the UCI because of crashing the live stream two times to get my #finishlineselfies or not wearing my media bib properly. [Editor’s note: So that’s who’s to blame!]
I work my ass of to get the best shots possible, start the days at 6.30am and go to bed at 1am. I spend hours in the rain, dust, sun, fog or heat, (nearly) always super stoked and with a big smile on my face. All the travelling and countless hours of hard work became even more special with Sven, Duncan Philpott, Joe Bowman, Mono Bartlett, Matt Delorme, Sebastian Schieck, Dan Heran and Rob and John Parkin, and all the riders of course. Not sure if I would love the Job so much and would still do it, if they weren’t a massive part of it.
It’s not just a job, and 2016 showed me that this bunch of people from different countries, backgrounds, lifestyles and ages are more than just colleagues and acquaintances, they are friends. After three years with the Bulls Team, in 2016 I was back on my own again. No more paid fights, hotels, food or rental cars. At the beginning of the season I wasn’t sure if I’d make it to all the races, but of course as the season progressed I just had to be there, it couldn’t be missed. With the help of the aforementioned crew and charitable riders now donating more than just floor space in their trailers (but often that too), I was able to follow the entire season and witness first-hand the drama and excitement along the way, for love, not money.
Buy Hurly Burly - the 2016 downhill yearbook - now. Shipped worldwide.
]]>Words: Martin Whiteley || Photo: Sebastian Schieck
The Cairns venue holds a special place in mountain bike history. It was the first venue outside of North America and Europe that the UCI chose to host a World Cup race. That was in 1994, an XC World Cup event coupled with a National DH race. I was fortunate enough to be the CEO of Australian Cycling at the time, and Chairman of the Organizing Committee for those early races. The path to getting those events Down Under wasn’t easy. I went to Italy in 1991 to meet with the UCI Mountain Bike Commission and bid for the 1994 World Championships, knowing full well that Vail, Colorado was also bidding, and hopefully we’d be offered something else to clear the way for Vail. ‘How about 1996 World Champs, and World Cup events in 1994 and 1995 as a lead up?’ Spot on, we’ll take that.
With the visionary Glen Jacobs, something special was created in a grass field and the surrounding mountains just outside of Cairns, and there we were again, 20 years after those World Champs, in the same green field arena in Smithfield. It also reminds me that prior to Cairns 1994, the World Cup podium was only three riders, but after a young 17-year-old kid called Cadel Evans from Australia had sat in third place for most of the men’s Elite XC only to fall to fifth in the last half lap, I made a special request. I asked the UCI and title sponsor Grundig if they could make an exception to allow five riders on the podium so the Aussie fans could salute this incredible young rider. After the presentation ceremony was done, all agreed that it looked pretty awesome, and since then MTB racing recognises the five best on the day. Great for riders, teams and sponsors.
I often get asked if the sport has changed dramatically in those 20 years from the 1996 Worlds and 2016 World Cup, and of course, bike technology and media coverage have changed a lot, but the spirit of racing hasn’t changed at all. The people that raced down the Cairns track in 1996 were just as competitive and determined to win gold as they are now. The men’s race was one of the closest in World Champs history, just over one tenth of a second separated legend Nicolas Vouilloz from ‘novice’ Shaun Palmer in one the most memorable Men’s DH World Champs of the last 25 years.”
By Martin Whiteley, former responsible for UCI MTB World Cup, owner of 23 Degrees Sports Management and Team Director for the YT Mob.
Read this and many more features like it, plus round-by-round accounts of the 2016 UCI DH World Cup season and pore over hundreds of the best images of the season in Hurly Burly book. Buy yours now and relive every moment of one of the most exhilarating seasons in the sport's history.
]]>--- VIDEO FLICK THROUGH BELOW ---
]]>An extract from Hurly Burly. Buy the definitive 2016 World Cup yearbook for this and many more features like it, plus photo galleries and full event-by-event reportage from the entire 2016 season.
Words: Alan Milway || Photo: Duncan Philpott
Downhill mountain bike racing is a young and evolving sport. Born from a desire to go faster than the next guy down a rugged hill side, the founders and instigators are only a generation older than a lot of us. They had skill, adrenaline and enjoyment as the central core of what downhill mountain biking was to them.
Humans are competitive by nature, and once you start to codify a sport or discipline – set out tapes and a track – immediately the riders will want to try and go that little bit faster, progress their bikes to suit the track, and inevitably their bodies too if they are proving to be the weak link.
The DH World Cup series is only young, having been founded in 1993. Back then, many riders had either a BMX or XC racing background, and this mix produced a fascinating blend as the skills of the BMX riders (Gracia, Lopes etc.) blended with the fitness of the cross country riders (Greg Herbold and John Tomac). Each looked to take a leaf from the other. Tracks were very long – generally longer than they are today – with fireroad sections and a more meandering path down the mountain, meaning sustained pedaling for 6-8mins on some tracks, which shows the need for fitness in racing has always been there, even if the desire to embrace or promote it wasn’t.
With its similarities to motocross, but also skate and other alternative cultures, some downhillers used to split away from the Lycra-wearing XC crowd; many wanted to play down any training or preparation outside of racing. The aim was to be able to win, or nearly win, purely on talent, skill and bravado – not because you had trained or been to the gym during the week. It was even ‘cool’ to have a good few beers the night before a race, almost as if you were happy to sabotage your best potential! However, what mustn’t be forgotten is that in the very early days riders would race XC on one day and then DH the next – anyone remember the Karrimor series? Lycra, fitness and effort were always part of downhill for one tranche of riders.
As the races split into true downhill-only events and many embraced the more relaxed and flamboyant side of things, there was a rider emerging who was dismissing any attention of the party lifestyle and showing what effort and focus can do. Nicolas Vouilloz was dominating World Cup racing, and bringing a very methodical approach to it. Clean-cut, in bed by 10pm and very straight-laced in his appearance, Nico really progressed the athletic side of racing from its cultural stand point. This is key, as there were others working hard and to varying degrees, but keeping their effort and preparation behind closed doors.
If you grew up reading MBUK in the mid-nineties, you would have seen some bizarre features with UK World Cup racers such as Jason McRoy, Peaty, Warner, Longden etc. dressed up in fancy dress and larking about, doing some impressive ‘stunts’ but never anything about any training or regime they were working to. With the magazines covering all arms of mountain biking, downhill was branching off away from XC and trail riding. Warner went by the nickname ‘Caveman’ and Peaty often had a beer in his hand. However, to be racing and winning at World Cup level on such long tracks must have taken a certain amount of preparation behind the cameras, even if it was just riding road bikes and climbing hills to pedal back down.
The French as a nation really led when it came to downhill racing, and supporting their racers. The Sunn-Chippie team were dominating with Anne-Caroline Chausson, Cedric Gracia and Vouilloz, and brought in a high level of engineering to make the bikes work incredibly well through Olivier Bossard (of BOS suspension). I’d love to see the specifics of the training they were doing back then, and would imagine it was heavily based around interval training. This ability to tolerate the high levels of lactate in the blood and the associated pain and burning simply allowed them to keep pedaling and pushing on when others would be sat down and freewheeling.
As we fast forward to today’s tracks and are able to measure in a very in-depth manner the athletic demands of the sport, it is fascinating to see the physical challenges placed upon a rider: Very high power outputs generated at the start gate and then repeated down the course. High heart rates throughout – over and above 95% max heart rates. Blood Lactate levels are well into double figures, and in many cases I’ve measured them reaching the very extremes of fatigue. And through the use of accelerometers we can measure G forces – I’ve seen peaks of 9 G – levels reached by fighter pilots.
Now, with this information it’s harder to play down the importance of fitness for racing, and herein we find a problem. Downhill is in danger of becoming an event that is defined by the fittest rider. This isn’t what the sport originated for, or what many desire. The tracks are now put into focus as we realise they play such an important part in the next evolutionary step for downhill. With bike park venues in the Alps wanting to draw holidaymakers, it makes complete sense for them to host a World Cup. What doesn’t make sense is to run the race track on the man-made, well trodden path that exists for average Joe to ride all summer. The riders are rarely fully challenged by these courses, and the difficulty becomes riding at the very edge of grip, making no mistakes. Do you need to practice that insane rock shoot or web of off-camber roots if you will never see them at a racetrack? Tracks such as Vallnord, Val di Sole and Champéry are vital to keep skill and bike handling at the fore.
Maybe we will see more Red Bull Hardline-style tracks too? Dan Atherton has a real passion for creating and an innate understanding of what makes a good track, with features that are doable but take four days to build up to. Surely this would be great for spectators and still mean riders would need the associated strength and conditioning to withstand the landings, take offs and compressions?
A strong rider, able to resist impacts, maintain posture on the bike, and repeatedly deliver power, will perform better than his same, weaker self. He will also be able to focus on the skill of riding his bike for longer and make less mistakes on track, as fatigue is shown to hamper concentration, decision making, reaction time and coordination. Regardless of arguments against training or the desire for it in downhill, understanding the previous sentence clearly should be proof enough that fitness training trumps riding alone and has a place in any sport.
This will put us in a position that I am most comfortable with: the most skilled rider, who has the fitness to back it up being victorious. Back in 2010 the World Cup circuit visited Champéry (Switzerland), and practice was held in the dry. Brendan Fairclough was simply on fire and looking outrageous; his line choice, flow and corner speed were clearly and visibly fastest. However, as rain came and the track changed, it was an interesting shift as you could see there wasn’t the same power or control in his legs as some of the others on track. Sticky mud needs strength and power, and this presented a different racing challenge, one that Gee Atherton would eventually win with Brendan in third.
Injuries are all too common, and many of the top riders have had multiple broken bones, concussions, and abrasions that are deemed minor, but would make mere mortals wince. Preventing injuries is difficult when rocks and trees are your run off area, but riders don’t always do too much to help themselves; where once a full body suit of armour was commonplace, now simple knee cups are all that is added to a full face helmet. Is this the rebellious, gladiator attitude sticking two fingers up at what is known to be more effective, or riders following fashion and the trends put forward by riders such as Sam Hill? Shoulders, collarbones and wrists take the majority of the impacts and what is interesting is that it is far from just six weeks for them to heal. Physically maybe, but mentally there are many examples of riders who have had incredible years only to become injured and take some time to recapture that knife-edge approach.
Aerodynamics is another area where culture wins over common sense. In a time trial down a hill at speeds well over 20mph, anyone outside the sport would agree that tighter-fitting clothing and aerodynamics would play a significant role in reducing time and improving results. However, downhill has it written into legislation that this can’t happen. A step too far or a way to protect the essence of the sport that was there from the start? Considering the Lycra and peakless helmets of the early 90’s I don’t know… I think there will be a shift towards gaining every tenth of a second, looking at every area.
Culture goes so far, but the need to win and the money on offer means that if data logging your suspension, trimming the peak on your helmet, or wearing tighter clothes will help you win, then why wouldn’t you embrace this? By the same essence, if you can save time by being more powerful, then why not?
It is these developments, evolutions and changes that are fascinating and keep mountain biking ever-so-slightly left of centre – not quite mainstream and slick. It is clearly a growing sideshow but ever in the shadows of our brethren locked in the Manchester vélodrome, being churned out as finely-tuned robots built for gold. Would downhill fit into this mould and suit a position in the Olympics? Honestly, I think not. Having seen the support and change for XC and BMX I can’t see many positives, and I feel there would be drive from those who look at it from purely a numbers point of view to ask difficult questions of the approach, freedom afforded to the riders, and potentially try and centralise the setup. The majority of riders I have worked with wouldn’t thrive in that environment and could it sanitise the sport? Having said that, I would love to get my teeth into a setup where I had control and budget to really push areas I know will make riders and bikes faster.
What next for downhill? I can see various metrics being brought into the TV coverage – heart rates, speed, power and G forces being shown on screen to help tell the story of the race run. I would like to see tracks diversify and offer a more technical challenge, even potentially slowing the average speeds. These technical elements really differentiate the riders and, when filmed well, look incredible for the public. We are seeing more and more riders embrace strength and fitness training, which will probably raise the level and depth of potential podium contenders. It may, however, make you sick of seeing yet another gym selfie, or motivational statement… The other alternative is to lean towards the sheer death-defying nature of the track and potentially align with Rampage or similar – attracting an audience that will be astonished by the skill, but may only watch as they bay for blood.
Ultimately, the direction the sport takes is in our hands to a degree. Pushing for change and tracks that excite and challenge the riders will excite and continue to bring in fresh talent, especially where enduro racing is becoming more and more accessible. I hope downhill will show itself to an increasingly broader audience as a skill-led sport that requires many pieces of the puzzle in order to gain success, with athleticism being central to this.
Alan Milway is a fitness coach who has worked with a long list of World Cup winners and six World Champions. He has coached riders including Danny Hart, Tracey Moseley, Manon Carpenter, Matt Simmonds, Gee Atherton, and lately Rachel Atherton to her ‘perfect 2016 season’.
Buy Hurly Burly - 2016 downhill yearbook - for just £15 (UK postage included, worldwide postage + £5 at checkout) for this and many more features like it, plus epic photo galleries from some of the sport's greatest photographers.
]]>