Seb Rogers: mountain bike photography

Alpine high

I love it when a plan comes together. Last week's Alps photo course was, by all accounts, a huge success. Amongst the comments and feedback I've received are these:

'I thoroughly enjoyed the course, and I learned a lot, and had great fun too!'

'The whole week was a wonderful experience, and it was a major disappointment to return home'

You can read more first-hand experiences from the whole week here.

To be honest, I'm breathing a small sigh of relief. Although I was certain I'd picked the right location and had every confidence in our hosts, trailAddiction, it was a new venture for me: new location, extended hours and an (intentionally) small group size. We were usually first out of the door and last back in, grabbing food with our fellow chalet riders before huddling over laptops for the rest of the evening... and then doing the whole lot all over again. Intense.

But the results were well worth the effort. Early mornings, late nights, sunburn and far too many chocolate croissants are all a small price to pay for the images that David, Niels and Linda brought back. There's already talk of a repeat course next year...

Can you say 'just one more time?'

Nikon D300, 14-24mm f/2.8, 1/2500sec f/4 @ ISO200

That'll be Mont Blanc, then...

Canon EOS 1DIII, 70-200mm f/2.8, 1/250sec f/10 @ ISO200

Niels ladles on the cheese

Sony A100, lens unrecorded, 1/200sec f/16 @ ISO200

Linda gets acquainted with her camera's dynamic range. And the pic's not bad, either...

Nikon D80, 18-135mm f/3.5-5.6, 1/200sec f/5 @ ISO200, single radio slave

Shoot of the year

It's not in the shops for another few days, but subscribers will already be receiving the first copies of What Mountain Bike's annual Bike of the Year issue - and I can't resist giving a sneak peak at some of the photos I've been sitting on for the past few weeks. Go on, go out and buy a copy - it's got lots of shiny bikes in it, one or two decent pics... and you'll have the satisfaction that comes from knowing that you're indirectly helping to pay my mortgage. What more could you ask for?

Nikon D3, 14-24mm f/2.8, 1/640sec f/5.6 @ ISO200

The Bike of the Year issue has always been a bit of a bumper round-up of the absolute best in mountain bikes and kit, put together by indisputably the most experienced test team in the business. But this year editor Matt Skinner pulled out all the stops, bumped a few of the suits' heads together and put into action a Master Plan of truly epic proportions - including a five-day shoot in the Lake District and a trip to California.

And yours truly got the call to shoot it. All of it.

Nikon D3, 80-200mm f/2.8, 1/320sec f/9 @ ISO200, two radio slaves

Nikon D3, 14-24mm f/2.8, 1/200sec f/13 @ ISO200, two radio slaves

To say I was chuffed would be an understatement. Forty-odd pages of editorial in a single issue is a pretty good showcase by any standards. It's also a fairly big responsibility, and there were a few wobbly moments (me to Matt, on hearing of his plan to fill 28 pages of the mag on a 5 day shoot in the Lakes in early April: 'er... are you sure you want to do that?'*). But I love a challenge - and this was certainly it.

Nikon D3, 14-24mm f/2.8, 1/400sec f/8 @ ISO200, two radio slaves

So I spent 11 days on location, 7 of them shooting. Drove 1500 miles. Flew around 10,000. Filled umpteen 2Gb cards with raw images, then spent nearly 3 days editing them down to a more manageable number before processing the resulting several hundred files to jpegs. Dropped one of my Pocket Wizards in a lake. Got sunburnt, twice. Stood in cold water for so long my feet hurt. Cursed the D3 sensor's magnetic attraction to dust, a lot. Praised its ability to turn in clean files in almost no light, several times. Rediscovered the joy of Duck Tape.

Nikon D3, 14-24mm f/2.8, 1/60sec f/4.5 @ ISO1600, single radio slave

Nikon D3, 14-24mm f/2.8, 1/250sec f/11 @ ISO200, two radio slaves

And, although the resulting swathe of pictures in the new issue inevitably has me focussing on the ones I coulda shoulda woulda shot better, I'm actually quite pleased with the results. All 43 pages of them. 

With such a wide-ranging brief I had to shoot a bit of everything - from epic landscapes and atmospheric riding pics, to portraits of slightly reluctant subjects and the biggest, most complicated location still-life of bikes I've ever undertaken. it's good to get out of my comfort zone every now and then - it pushes me to try new techniques and look at familiar problems in a new light. And it's usually in situations like these that I turn in my best pictures.

It's been a busy month. But a worthwhile one.

Nikon D300, 10.5mm f/2.8, 1/20sec f/22 @ ISO200

* Perhaps you have to be British to understand: the Lake District is to rain what Arizona is to the lack of it.

The freedom of two wheels

I have a rule that I don't blog about my family, but I'm going to make a rare exception in this case. It's bike-related, after all.

The other day my daughter had her fourth birthday and was given, thanks to her generous grandparents, her first 'proper' bike. She's been tooling around on a scootalong for about 18 months and pretty much had balance sorted by last summer, but the new machine has pedals and brakes (with levers and handlebars properly scaled for small hands). As you can see from Tashi's expression, she's pretty pleased. Yes, that's a matching helmet and Camelbak...

It's early days, but whilst the addition of pedals and brakes is a distraction that's overriding some of that balance practice, the other day she rode her new bike halfway to school, stopping only to have a drink halfway up the big climb. Like father, like daughter.

And it's nice to see the sheer excitement that the freedom of two wheels can bring, all over again. Remember your first bike? I do.

OK, that's my proud dad bit out of the way. Normal service will resume shortly...

Happy new year!

Here's to dry, sunny, dusty trails in 2009...

Nikon D3, 17-35mm f/2.8, 1/400sec f/7.1 @ ISO200, two radio slaves

Triptychs: last chance for Christmas

My last pre-Christmas batch of triptych frames arrived today and I have just two left. Orders are sent out for next day delivery, so there's still time - just - to get your order in for Christmas. But I'll need your order - and payment - by Friday 19th December to be in time for Christmas delivery. Email me if you're interested.

No idea what I'm talking about? See here.

The perfect Christmas gift for the mountain biker in your life?

Christmas ordering: please see here for latest ordering info.

What do you buy for the mountain biker who has everything? How about a signed, limited edition Seb Rogers print?

Well I would suggest that, wouldn't I? But hear me out.

I've put together four exclusive triptychs, each one featuring a series of three themed images beautifully mounted, framed, signed and individually numbered. The 20x60cm (approx. 8"x24") frames sit well on even the most limited wall space, and the deep black surround matches most decor. I'll only be making a maximum of 10 (yep, ten) of each.

Not much wall space? No problem...

Individually signed and numbered. I'll only be making 10 of each...

Oh, the themes? Here they are (the framed versions obviously won't be watermarked):

Mountain:

Sky:

Water:

Trail: (please note these images are presented in a vertically orientated frame)

I don't think you'll find anything like these prints anywhere else. And the best bit is the price: £99.00, delivered to your door. Yep, less than £100 for a framed, signed, limited edition print.

Go on, put a bit of riding magic on the wall of someone who'd rather be out on their bike...

You can pay by Paypal (prints@sebrogers.co.uk), or email me if you'd prefer to pay by cheque or direct bank transfer. I'll need to know which print you'd like and your delivery address. Please allow at least 14 days for delivery. For last-minute Christmas orders, please contact me before sending payment.

FAQs

- can you deliver outside the UK?

Sorry, no. I've had boxes specially made for the frames, but the glass is too fragile to send overseas.

- how big are the prints?

Each print is roughly 9.5x14cm (3.75"x5.5"). The frames are 20x60cm (8"x24").

- how long will the prints last?

Print longevity depends on a lot of factors including temperature, humidity and exposure to light. I've used the highest quality inks and paper and a professional printer to ensure that my prints are as resistant to fading as possible. With a little care in handling, display and storage they should last decades.

- can I choose which three pictures to put in the frame?

I've put a lot of time into matching each series of three images, so the answer is no, I'm afraid.

- where were the images taken?

From British Columbia and Nepal to the South Downs and Exmoor, via the French Alps and mid Wales. Each frame will have full captions on the rear.

- I have another question...

email me.

Christmas ordering: please see here for latest ordering info.

The stuff you can't capture

Bunnyhopping over an adder basking in the middle of the trail today (I only saw him at the last second and had to go back and check that he was okay, but he was already sidling off into the undergrowth), it occurred to me that some of the best times I've had on a bike simply can't be recorded on camera. The white tail of a deer bobbing off into the darkness of the forest; two voles tumbling over each other in the middle of the trail; a kestrel swooping in front of me, prey clutched in its talons... it's all in my memory, but not on disk. Nor is it ever likely to be.

Much of my time is spent carefully setting up pictures that are designed to evoke a response in riders and non-riders alike. They're facsimiles of reality, based on actual experience. But they're not, ultimately, real, because for the most part those images wouldn't exist had I not made them happen.

I don't think there's anything wrong with that approach. But it does make me realise that the sometimes it's just best to let the moment unfold and consign it to memory, rather than reach for the camera.

Nikon F5, 80-200mm f/2.8, unrecorded exposure on Fuji Provia 100, probably

Rider's block

I don't write much on here about riding. Perhaps I should. After all, I spend a reasonable proportion of my time doing it, and on many shoots it's not just my subject matter but also my main means of getting about.

So here's something that's bugging me a little at the moment - I've got rider's block. Anyone who has a regular route that includes a tricky little technical section will, I hope, be able to relate to my predicament: a complete inability to negotiate a short (three or four yard) section of rocky trail that I know is eminently rideable. I've been bottling it for months now, trundling up to the point of no return and jumping off to walk my bike through.

Which is odd, because for months before that I was clearing it every ride.

This has happened before, on exactly the same bit of trail: 6 months of clearing it, followed by 6 months of The Fear. And then, one ride, probably when I'm distracted with thinking about something else (like my tax return, or how much longer I can get away with not sanding down and repainting the window sills on the front of the house), I sail right through it without realising. And kickstart another 6 months of non-geekdom.

This is a lovely, swoopy, rideable bit of the same trail... half a mile further on from the Stream Crossing of Doom

My periodic lapses of ability have at least some grounding in reason. The section in question is where the trail doubles back upon itself, making a 90 degree turn down into a rocky stream bed before climbing out the other side and turning another 45 degrees again. The rocks are, except during extended periods of dry weather (ha! We're talking the UK here, folks), wet. And slippery. The turn-in is so tight that it's hard to look at your line before you're on top of it. And if you don't carry enough momentum into the rocks to get you at least halfway up the exit, you're doomed to dab.

Which is where it gets interesting, because there isn't anywhere to dab. The stream drops away a couple of feet at this precise point, leaving your right foot nowhere to go but down... until it connects with something hard and immoveable. My current period of rider's block began with just such a dab a few months ago, when I ended up upside down with my bike on top of me, my feet still clipped in, and a mildly twisted ankle. I was lucky. A friend in the village broke his leg at this exact same spot...

So what it all comes down to, really, is mind over matter. Once I don't mind turning in blindly at a speed that won't give me space to stop and just using my momentum and sheer bloodymindedness to haul me up the other side... it won't matter. And I'll be able to ride one of my favourite trails without dabbing. Again.