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The TrailHead Project is my journey to understand more about mental well being through mountain biking, and part of this is exploring a little more about the emotional connection of the action photographer, and what they feel emotionally through the lens. I’m keen to understand more about the emotions they experience and how their photos relay this emotion to us, and encourage us to get out and ride. To the observer, or the people who thumb through thousands of images on social media, we might be missing something. Do we feel the obsession in getting a shot, the hard work, the frustration, or the physical exhaustion. I couldn't write this post without first mentioning Brett Shelfer of Time Capture Photography. Brett shoots World Cups Downhill Racing, and the local scene around the South East of England and his tag is ‘Obsession of Observation’ which seems the perfect strapline. Many photographers are absolutely obsessed with getting the best shot, to create that emotional response, and in a world of 24 hour social media lifespan, and dying print media, those shots need to be pretty good as they are so short lived, and with reels now taking over, the still frame is arguably at an even greater risk of extinction. The pressures of shooting a world cup mountain bike event must be immense. Pressure from brands who’ve commissioned photographers to get ‘the shot’. Brett told me that so many of the photographers, or ‘Media Squids’ as they are known, will be shooting specific shots required by those brands. I’ve listened to enough podcasts now to know that the likes of Sven Martin, Boris Myer, Duncan Philpot are working long long days, editing way into the night, with Sven Martin often shooting for 16 brands at one event. Full stress, high pressure and travelling away from home for months on the road. Hard work to say the least. Bretts obsession comes from having a one track mind, as he says “I’m always looking, looking up through trees, it’s the art of light. Always looking for the unique angle, but also the rider's connection to the machine and having a mutual respect for the rider's perspective.” Observing through the lens can be just as exhilarating even if you're not riding. In a past life, when I was shooting surfing, I agreed with Brett when he said “that it helps to be a ‘fanboy’ of certain athletes”. Brett loves to shoot riders like Matt Roe, Ethan and Nathan Craik, and the effortless nature and flowing style but also captures the emotional responses of riders. He was present when Britains Laurie Greenland won his first World Cup Downhill race and expressed that it was just an awesome experience. “To see these riders experience the best and worst of emotions, is one thing, but to actually capture a young rider, win at Val di Sol, after years of trying so hard is the icing on the cake, it’s an exhilarating and a powerful experience”. Brett also uses his photography as an escape from everyday life, and keep his mind fresh, and being his own boss provides the freedom to challenge himself with his photography. Brett is not a full-time professional photographer, but he's bloody good, and his shots are inspiring. In fact his ‘Obsession of Observation’ got me obsessed with a shot that I want to get, and finally, to the point of this post. For three years I’ve looked at a section of trail here in the Wild West of Cornwall and ‘Obsessed’ about getting a shot. It's not about the steepness, or the technical difficulty, although it is steep, narrow and does have some sketchy mine workings below, including a mighty deep hole to the left on one corner and some hefty granite here and there, and enough too kick you off line. This shot is more about aesthetics, in fact, it's more of a series of shots that would capture the harshness of the environment, and the heritage of tin mining. Kenidjack Valley is in the Heart of the Unesco World Heritage Site. This area was the beating heart of 18th Century Tin Mining, or ‘Poldark Country’ if you watched the TV series. The Valley is steep on both sides, and you'll find the remains of the old arsenic works, the wheelhouse, even old machinery that is beautiful in their decay and at the same time preservation. The trail down through the valley meanders along the Tregeseal River, the power source for all the workings along its length, and it flows into Porth Ledden Bay. A trail that miners would have walked to and from work, day in day out, twelve hours a day in brutal conditions. A tough and unforgiving job. This valley is stunning and this is my second visit in as many weeks. This time to capture some shots. Not, ‘’The Shot’, but an idea of what ‘The Shot’ could look like. I was only equipped with a Samsung Phone, so apologies for the awful quality, and a Gorilla tripod. This was a recon mission, this was about putting in some effort to see what was possible through my eyes. I’ll wait for a proper photographer to offer up their services to get ‘The Shot’, in the right light, and without a howling Westerly wind, almost blowing me off the trail and downwards to the slag piles of granite, or into a mine shaft. Obsessing over a shot is a strange phenomenon. Unlike professionals, commissioned to get a certain shot, this was just pure fun for me. This was an opportunity, on a bright and breezy sunny afternoon, to session one part of a trail that drops from an exposed hillside, where the wind came up from the ocean on the other side of the hill. Blowing directly up a shear cliff and rotating over the top and onto the trail, I’m trying to ride and capture myself looking like a half decent rider whilst getting blown sideways. Once out of the wind the granite strewn trail drops below a huge outcrop of rock thats buffered by weather hardened grasses. In fact, this made for a great resting spot to have a ponder whilst eating one of the 48 Cadbury’s Creme Eggs my Mother In Law sent down to my son. Accessing the steepness of the valley to set up on the rocks for another shot was pretty hard going but I enjoyed scrambling around. I should say here that I had to do video clips, that I could then take the stills from, and you can see tht the images are not great quality. But like I say, this was an 'establishing mission', not ‘The Shot’. Ironically, I’ll put a reel together from the footage and place that on instagram. You can then thumb past all the great photography that's being missed because of the reels! I absolutely loved the process of trying to get some idea of whether this was worth the effort or not. I must have walked the trail twenty times, let alone up and down setting up for the next shot. Not bad I thought for a fifty something who refuses to grow up. At times I felt like a mountain goat scrambling over grass, ladened with spring bluebells and wild coastal flowers, but as the afternoon went on, more like an old man trudging back up a trail to get my bike. Either way the push back up was worth it because I also got to session a great piece of single track that I’d never ridden before. I was stoked with the images I got and I was stoked that I made time to get out and try. The obsession with ‘The Shot’ is still there and I can’t wait to get back to that trail, and with no pressure from anyone, but accompanied by a photographer who I know also has an obsession for a great image. If you’d like to find out more about the The TrailHead Project then just go to the page on the website. Gaining these shots was a perfect example of positive thinking, positive outcome. Setting a challenge and working towards that end goal. Through achieving this initial challenge my mindset was reset. As I rode back up the Kenidjack Valley, along the river, I was pretty euphoric. I had a sense of well being I’d not had in some time. I also felt I’d gained a tiny insight into what it might feel like to have an image in your head for so long, and when it finally comes to fruition, it becomes everything you hope it would be, but I'm not quite there yet. I hope you like my initial 'test' results. It’s a taster of what I believe will be so much better, shots that I feel will tell a story of riding in an area that is tough, rugged, and harsh. I feel like I have to thank Brett and all the other inspirational photographers like Sterling Lorence, Dan Milner, Duncan Philpot, Rupert Fowler, Sven Martin, JP Litiard, CA Greenwood, and many many more, for their tireless efforts to keep us stoked.      
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Here's a question. Would you sacrifice an hour of summer daylight, to have an extra hour of light in the winter? My friend Hugh of Bos Surfboards asked me this the other day and it’s actually a really great question. In fact I can't stop thinking about the benefits if such a sacrifice were made. Like 99.9% of people on this planet I would argue that we all look forward to the summer evenings. Those light nights where you don’t have to feel rushed. You get home from work, have some tea, walk the dog and you’ve still got three hours to go and have some fun. This is the UK by the way, and to pinpoint this further I live in West Cornwall, so at the height of summer, it gets dark around 10pm, maybe a bit later. I love it, those sunset surfs, where the vibe seems to be relaxed as the madding crowds of the day have gone home for tea, usually just the locals come out to play and the odd straggler from out of town. Those summer sessions riding on our local hill when the fern is at full height and the trails can barely be seen, the winter browns replaced by the most vibrant green, and purple of the foxgloves scattered around. The ocean a mile away, and the sun setting to the West. Wednesday nights up at ‘The Track’ at Portreath, jumping our bikes with other Dads that should know better, mid forties, mid fifties, kids in tow and having a whale of a time until dusk. Summer is the best, but do the late evenings make us a little lazy as well? Do we take those evenings for granted and not use them to their max? Don't get me wrong, I love the seasons here in the UK. I hate wind and rain when I'm working, but as a rule relish putting my jackets on and my winter wooleys hats, my favourite boots, but I also hate enduring 6mm of rubber, hoods and wetsuit boots when I go surfing. So here's that question again. Would you give up an hour or so of that summer light so you could have a little after work fun in the depths of Winter? One hour post work to do as you will. Personally, a quick surf, or a few laps of the hill, sounds great to me. Although I do love putting the lights on and riding at night and cruising the quiet lanes of West Cornwall on a still, clear night. Or a ride to the pub for pint during the Christmas Holidays, that extra hour of light could be amazing. Imagine it gets dark at 6pm, not at 4,30pm. I'm already heading straight to the beach or the hill and have enough time to get my fill of adrenaline, endorphins and stoke. Think of the benefits that you would gain. I’m sure our mental wellbeing would be far greater. We’d feel more positive, more upbeat. We wouldn’t be driving home in the dark, or worse still walking home in the dark, feeling like we haven’t seen daylight either side of work, probably because you haven’t. But wouldn’t it be nice if we could have a stroll around the urban parks, or a quick kick about with your kids and their mates. Wash the car, clean the bikes, clean the windows. All those chores that sadly then eat into your weekend. I reckon that one hour would be a game changer and I would personally sacrifice that summer hour because much of winter sucks. I don’t want to be a weekend warrior riding bikes or surfing, I want to do it every day if I can, although sometimes work takes it out of me and all I’m fit for is a shower, dinner, sofa, TV and bed. But here’s my main reasoning for supporting a transfer of an hour. I find the weekends during winter stressful sometimes and hear me out on this one. We work all week, commuting in darkness, and is it just me or does coming home seem even darker, and as winter progresses, it seems to get even darker still. When the weekend comes I want to do everything. Priorities include mostly surfing and riding bikes, then dog walks, then firmly down on the list are household chores. Weekends seem ‘time precious’ and I hate that. Everything seems like a rush, I’m almost counting the hours of light left from the moment I get up, and believe me I make the most of it. Summer is more relaxed because we have more time. Winter weekends are crammed into lets say 8am to 4.30pm, and that's never enough time to fit it all in. I honestly get anxious. I’ve got no time to wait for those family members who can’t get out of bed or are not ready to go when I am and whilst I’m impatiently waiting in the van, gripping the steering wheel, my mind is telling me 'I want to get gone’! My weekends often include my wife telling me to chill out. ‘Give me an extra hour of light in the winter my love, and I just might!’ Most of the winter I’m waiting for that one hour of light after work when I can go straight to the hill, or to the beach on my way home. A few laps on the MTB or have a surf, I’m so much happier. That hour tells me spring is on the way and the evenings are about to get better. Life is about to get busier again. Trouble is we don't have that extra hour, we have to endure four months of darkness, months of blackout, and I’m not a bear, hamster or hedgehog that has to hibernate, I want to be outside clocking up hours with my toys, not holed up in the lounge with the TV on watching another Netflix season, waiting for daylight saving, waiting for the clocks to go back or forward, whatever it is. Imagine the benefits to everyone's mental health. That little extra moment of post work fun. One hour, it’s not much, but it could make a huge difference. Think of those people who are doing stressful jobs and their release requires daylight. Just imagine walking out of the office and having an hour to run 5 or 10K in the light, not having to dress up in HiViz and lights, or riding a few miles on the road bike before tea. How about getting on that motorbike for a quick spin before dark, real stress busters, time when we can let go and not take that stress home to the family. I think you get the picture, and if you need to really appreciate the benefits to our mental well-being? What do you think? Would you sacrifice an hour of summer daylight, to have an extra hour of light in the winter? If you could, what would you do with it? Please Note: This is totally hypothetical. It’s never going to happen!! But It might be nice.    |
AuthorHi, I'm Russ Pierre, a Cyclist, Surfer and outdoor enthusiast. Please join me as I have some fun on my adventures and write about all the stuff that makes me tick. Archives
December 2024
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