I was climbing up the Base Line Road hill on stage one. It was hot, my gear was heavy and as usual I forgot one crucial element of sun protection - a hat. I was certain I would be more than a little red by the end of the day, despite the sunscreen I had long-since sweat off and a long-sleeve sun protection hoodie. If you think I was regretting my choice to be trudging uphill on a hot California day, you’d be wrong. I was having way too much fun to care much about the climb, the heat or the eventual sunburn.
I was invited to Redlands Cycling Classic as a team photographer for Expeditors Elite Cycling Team, a new team from the Pacific Northwest. I have photographed my fair share of road races locally and National Championships for several years. Never a stage race, and certainly not a pro-level one. It was a daunting idea, but I knew that I needed this experience. I was not excited about being so green at the task while surrounded by the pro photographers I’ve come to know and whose work is truly remarkable. Into the fire I went anyway because there always has to be a first time, and I might as well get it over with.
The climb on Base Line Road
A stage race like Redlands is a fascinating experience. It’s five days of hard racing, hot weather, brutal climbs and enough chaos to make each day’s outcome uncertain. My job would be to capture as much of the team’s experience and racing as I could.
We made a small AirBnB home base for race prep, post-race gatherings, team meals - and every single bike. It made for some cramped quarters, but it also allowed me the chance to get to know the racers in a way I could not otherwise. Some were quite young (yet still experienced), and others had years of pro racing on their resume. All of them were serious about their job, but never took themselves too seriously. Kaler Marshall was the natural leader of this group, having completed this race multiple times and raced at the professional level.
Keelan Ontiveros relaxes before the criterium.
Racing at Redlands is not all glamourous. Riders typically stay in host housing, relying on the kindness and generosity of volunteers to have a clean place to shower and rest every night. The team manager works to accommodate all the daily details of feed zones, team meals, race protests when necessary, and the general well-being of a squad of exhausted, and in some cases injured, riders. Add in a meticulous and gregarious bike mechanic, and you have yourself a house packed full of personalities. And then someone sticks a camera in their faces all week.
Saturday night criterium
Stage one, with its steep climb to the finish that I only managed once but that the racers summited 20 times, was a great start to the week. Things quickly got exciting when Kaler took the King of the Mountain jersey this first day - which meant the next days would be spent defending. The job is never boring, especially when you get to work for a team wearing a leader’s jersey.
The next four stages rolled on with a mix of panic on my part (traffic and road blocks were not my friend) and sheer joy at getting to be at the finish line for the Oak Glenn climb and the downtown Redlands Saturday night criterium. The team had their work cut out for them in the later stages with crashes and DNFs, but never let it limit their enjoyment of getting to compete in this long-running race. In the end, they successfully defended the KOM jersey, with Kaler taking it home through the final finish.
Taking home the KOM jersey
Photography is career number three or four for me, but the work I’ve enjoyed the most is when I’ve been able to just be in the room. An observer to unique experiences and supporter of an effort that doesn’t make sense to a lot of people, but makes complete sense to those who get it. I’ve also done enough journalism to know that it’s best to remain unbiased in coverage of teams and competitors. That was not going to happen for this race. I was working with one northwest team, there was another northwest team winning stages, and the women’s GC winner was one of my favorite bike friends. We’ll call it inexperience on my part, but my internal cheer squad was firing away all week long.
Though I got much better about remembering my hat, I know I could cover the race 10x better if I had a chance to do it all over again. That’s just the nature of doing something for the first time - you learn, make some mental notes and get better prepared when the opportunity comes around again. And it can’t be said enough - always wear sunscreen