The art of the descent

Everyone talks about the climb. The gradient, the watts, the suffering, the time. The descent gets one line in the ride report: “and then we went down”.

That’s a shame. Because the descent is where cycling stops being a fight and becomes something closer to a dance.

Look where you want to go

The first thing anyone good at descending will tell you is the simplest and the hardest: look where you want to go, not where you’re afraid to go. Not at the gravel on the edge. Not at the barrier. At the exit of the bend.

Your bike follows your eyes. It sounds like a motivational poster. It’s actually physics, and a lot of nerve.

Outside foot down

Outside foot down, pressing into the pedal. Inside knee open. Hands in the drops, fingers light on the levers. Brake before the bend, not in it. Let the bike lean — it wants to — and let it come back up on the way out.

When it works, you feel it straight away. The road stops being something you are trying to survive and becomes a line you are drawing.

Climbing is about how much you can take. Descending is about how much you can let go.

Why the cut matters here

At fifty kilometres an hour, a loose jersey is a flag. It flaps, it pulls at your shoulders, it fills with air like a small parachute and makes a noise you can hear over the wind. On a fast mountain road, distraction is the last thing you need.

That’s why our race cut is close-fitting: a silhouette that doesn’t add drag and doesn’t move when you do, with flat seams that don’t dig in when you tuck. On the way down you want to forget you’re wearing anything at all.

Respect the mountain

One last thing. The mountain forgives no mistakes. On the way down, the fastest line is the one you still have control of. Leave a margin. Know the road. Come home.

Then go back up and do it again.