Guest Article: Racing, Not Riding

Team and room mate Paul Cheetham

Is anyone else in need of some bike racing? I’m strung out and need a fix. @chrisO has come to the rescue by actually racing his bike and filing a proper report. He didn’t just jump into some Sunday Cat IV event either. He raced a stage race, the Tour of Sharjah, which might be part of Abu-Dhabi, no embrocation and Belgian booties for them.

VLVV, Gianni

My team in Dubai-Abu Dhabi was recently invited to, and competed in, the inaugural Tour of Sharjah. A four day stage race around Sharjah emirate. While not a UCI tour event it was a proper pro race, and with big prize money on offer it attracted two Continental pro teams, ten national teams from Arab countries and a combined African team. And us, Team Frankie’s-Raha-Wolfi’s. 12 mostly middle-40s guys who could match them with kit and bikes, but what about the legs… ?

Sometimes the story ends with the hero waking up to find it was all a dream. In this case the dream was the starting page. A pro-level tour, with accommodation at a luxury hotel, support cars and sponsored stuff while spending four days riding closed roads with police escort, TV crews and all the trappings of an international race. Well, apart from podium girls.

We’re essentially a Masters team doing local races in the UAE. Mostly over 40s, with a smattering of experienced riders and a couple of really good ones, but a lot of people who took it up later in life. If Jane Austen lived in Dubai she might have added to her universally acknowledged truth that, once married the man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a bike.

So here we were, invited to the biggest race of the season, ready to live the pro dream.

Day 0

Anyone who has lived in the Middle East will know that events are approached flexibly. Only uptight westerners expect everything to be set in stone. Sand is the medium of choice here.

We arrive for the team briefing to find that there is a misunderstanding and the local teams have no accommodation. We’ve got two guys from Oman, and a couple more from Abu Dhabi, which is a two hour drive away – or more in Sharjah’s notorious traffic. But the sands can be shifted, and after heated conversations and various phone calls from the one Arabic speaker on our team we have a magic upgrade. Not the standard twin rooms of the hotel for us but the spacious serviced apartments of the adjacent resort.

Our team liaison Toufic goes to the briefing alone – it’s in Arabic anyway. Here he learns useless things – the order of stages has changed, there will be team classifications but we don’t know how, the African team will join on Day 2. It will all change anyway.

We have dinner and a team meeting. We don’t know the level of the teams, we don’t know the favourites and we vaguely know the routes. Team dynamics kick in – some people want to plan it all in advance, others want to let it unfold. It’s stressing me out so I mostly shut up.

Room-mates are chosen and I’m with Paul, a chap I’ve only met that afternoon by giving him a lift to the hotel. He seems to have been around bikes and racing most of his life. He’s also an ex-Marine so I figure he should be tidy if nothing else.

Stage 1 : 90km Umm al Quwain to Sharjah Academic City

The cars arrive, bikes are unloaded, riders warm up and we see the teams for the first time. The Algerians look like a unit. There are national squads in national jerseys from Iraq, Egypt, Bahrain and the UAE among others. We sign on and warm up and take our places when the starter calls, mostly leaving the front row to others.

Racing here is usually fast and furious from the start and by comparison to the levels we’d be riding in Europe it’s aggressive and with an all-or-nothing approach. With no team limits in local races a big squad can just throw people off the front until it sticks. There are two local club teams plus the UAE team so that’s effectively 18 riders.

There’s no neutral zone and the attacks start as soon as we are off. It’s punishing stuff – fast accelerations get 50m ahead and are caught. Again and again. As they’re caught the breakaways sit up and slow right down, often spread out, causing chaos behind as the fast moving bunch hits the decelerating break. Bikes and riders go spinning through the air with rubber the wrong way up. One lands on his feet and hands and goes sliding along without falling.

Eventually, thank heavens, a break sticks and we have men in it. The rest of us stay together. Despite some confusion over the exact finish, which is 10km shorter than expected, we are safe and with well-placed riders. One box ticked.

Stage 2 : 150km Maleha to Dibba

The decisive day. 150km with a Cat 2 climb and some rolling hills and power climbs which will split the field.

I’m no grimpeur (I really do climb well for my 85kg weight) though I am good on steady slopes and hope to be able to help the team and maybe finish in the second bunch. But today is a triumph of inexperience over hope.

Early on we’re rolling at a decent pace when there’s a crash ahead and I have to stop dead and waddle around. I was too far back in the field but there are others to help chase back. Only three of them don’t chase and I’m left with a skinny Kuwaiti kid who I actually believe when he says he can’t take a pull. Within a minute I am on the redline and for 10 minutes I am over it, dragging us slowly back.

The last few meters are the worst. Tantalisingly behind and willing the bunch to just slow down for a few seconds so I can reach the haven. With a final effort we are there and I am exhausted.

Just in time for the first climb. I have nothing left and immediately drop like a stunned fish sinking into murky depths. Now I despair.

With 130km to go I am alone. This was my day to be Stuey O’Grady not Tail End Charlie. There’s nothing to do – I know I can ride the distance on my own, so I get on with it. Soon I start to pick up other stragglers including two of my team mates and we have a group of 10, all working together. We will survive.

I am faster up the climbs than the others so I go at my own pace and we regroup at the bottom. We reach the coast with the climbs behind us and now 60km to go as we start to pace ourselves in an echelon. We are at the tail of the field with the last race car and ambulance behind – perhaps they know our ages.

The wind is gusting from the side now and on the open flat some team cars are coming up to hand over food and water. As one comes beside us I move instinctively away, just as the wheel in front is pushed by a gust of wind and…

There is a frozen instant where you know you are crashing but you haven’t yet crashed. Too quick to anticipate the pain but the brain is deploying mental airbags.

I am quickly up and doing the obligatory check – limbs move, the bike is OK, nothing sears through the general pain. The ambulance guys look as shocked as I insist on continuing. My two team mates Mark and Gareth have come back to me. I could hug them.

We plug away, and after a while I am able to do some turns. 40km later we catch the others and fall in together. Grupetto Reunited.

Incredibly as we approach the finish the Kuwaiti kid, who has done turns you could count in pedal strokes on two hands, starts asking who is our sprinter. He’s not joking. As mature middle-aged men we should be above this, so I end up sprinting to get 82nd place by half a wheel. What a day.

Stage 3 – 100km Sharjah Corniche Criterium / Circuit

In the aftermath of my crash the team rallied around, for which I am very grateful. After all, if I dropped out now who would notice ? My stuff is gathered, bike taken to my room, checked over, new kit and cage arranged. I limp early to bed but not before being told that Stage 3 will start much earlier than expected at 6am. It’s dark until 7… were we supposed to bring lights ?

Paul promises to set the alarm once the time to leave the hotel is decided, while I leave them to it and fall gratefully into bed.

As I regularly get up about 5am to train my body clock is pretty much set, and I’m always anxious when I have to get up earlier. I wake about 4am thinking we must be getting up soon, then go back to sleep in fitful 5 and 10 minute blocks waiting for the alarm. Which doesn’t come.

Finally about 5am I get out of bed. This disturbs Paul who tells me the start is really 8am but he didn’t want to wake me up. My relief at extra sleep and not racing a dawn crit outweighs the thought that I would have slept better without fear of missing the start, so I go back to bed.

The stage is not far from the hotel and the team cycles over as a group. Sharjah traffic isn’t car-friendly let alone cycle-friendly. The day before when police vehicles with lights and sirens blocked roundabouts for us, cars were still squeezing past them in any conceivable gap.

But we make it and wait for the start. I’m glad to have had a gentle ride to warm up and loosen my stiff limbs. I have a truly massive and deep bruise on my hip and my groin muscles are strained. Lifting my leg to mount and dismount is a challenge, but pedalling is OK. Otherwise it’s just elbow gravel rash and some minor scrapes.

It’s more of a circuit than a crit. Five laps of 18km. With two tight hairpin U-turns at each end and strong crosswind in between.

I’m sore and nervous and nearly get dropped at the very first U-turn as the bunch stretches right out. My head is begging them to just slow down and let me back on. I can’t keep doing this and I try to stay in a better position further up. In sections I manage to stay out of the wind, but as we navigate the course my inexperience puts me on the windward side again and I have to fight to get to shelter, usually just in time for another change.

After two laps the pace starts to pick up for an intermediate sprint, with me being towards the back and in the nastiest stretch of crosswind.

We’re in the gutter, stretched single file.

Being shelled is like ice breaking. It starts behind you, then the deadly crack reaches your wheel and you plunge into the void.

50-ish kilometres to go, but my team mate Toufic has been dropped with me. And what do you know, my Kuwaiti friend. I can’t keep the peloton pace but I’m not exhausted so I do most of the work, with Toufic joining in. We pick up more stragglers briefly, joined by a rider from the Seychelles, part of the otherwise strong African team – I know how he must feel. At least we won’t be last.

I suggest Toufic tells them in Arabic we are both probably older than their fathers and they should show us some respect, even if we hadn’t dragged their scrawny arses around. No surprise then that I lead out Toufic for a stunning 1-2 in the fight for 70-somethingth place.

With the early finish we are back at the hotel to catch the end of breakfast and have a welcome recovery day to sit by the pool, put our feet up and generally chill.

Stage 4 : 170km – Sharjah Airport – Madam – Sharjah Airport

Last day and, inshallah, I know I will make it. I’m determined to do better today.

Today is mostly flat but even as we left the hotel at 6.30 the wind was strong, and it will only pick up. There are four riders within three seconds of each other at the top. The Algerians have five in the top 10 but none on the podium. It could be brutal, or they could be tired and not willing to risk early attacks on a long stage. If anyone asks my preference I have my answer prepared.

The pace is settled early on, with only half-hearted attacks into a tough headwind. I make myself go up the field, finding my team mates and working in with them. For a while I am in the leading line, very happy near the front.

But how quickly things change. One second I’m comfortable in a line or with someone at one side. The next moment I have riders pushing me on both sides, getting their bars just ahead and squeezing me back. Forcing themselves into gaps between rear wheels, where I dare not go. I drop 30 places in 30 seconds. The mental concentration and edginess is just as draining as the physical effort.

But I try to keep moving back up and stay in touch until there is a big split, not just me. Soon after there is panic ahead. A crash and our leader Martin has a damaged wheel. Without hesitation Duncan gives his rear wheel but the bunch is lost and they know Martin is dangerous. There will be no waiting.

Half a dozen of us slow and wait to bring him back, but Martin is stronger than all of us put together even in this crosswind. We are killing ourselves, gasping and rocking, but soon he leaves us and forges ahead to rejoin the bunch as we reel them in meter by meter.

Finally we are nearly there, just 200m to go, but again we see Martin at the support truck. A puncture. I could cry. Really. We slow down and the bunch moves away. Again we dig deep and we get him further up the road before he leaves to bridge, helped heroically by Paul dropping back from the bunch to meet him in the gap.

I’m ready to make the call for survival but Tim is still gung ho and urges us to keep fighting. I want him to go away. I want it all to stop. I make a token argument but knuckle down and try. I start missing turns but only when the strongest riders are behind me. It was their idea to chase wasn’t it ? We are supposed to be doing through and off but the stronger guys are doing longer turns. Bless them, curse them… I don’t know any more.

Up ahead we can see the bunch slowly coming back, and then closer still as there is another crash. Now we are just 100m behind the cars, and I’m on the front. I dig deep and bring us into the lovely shelter of 4x4s and flatbed trucks. We made it.

We infiltrate the peloton, moving up to make sure we aren’t spat out straight away. Now we are at the turning point, around the Madam roundabout and the wind will be mainly behind us now. Alhamdulillah. God be praised.

I last another 10km but now the attacks are coming, the bunch is stretching, riders have dropped off long before and I’ve done my day’s work. One time I manage to get back using the cars again but it doesn’t last long and I’m off for good. I’m at peace with that. The wind is with me and others are behind me. Today is OK.

Post-race Analysis

I had two missions. Get through it and don’t crash. Do the math yourself on that score.

I was way out of my depth but not physically. I felt early on I could compete with about a third of the field. In the final standings I was near the bottom but not the worst on our team, and if you take the DNFs into account I was probably about two thirds down the field. Given I’m twice the age, with more to carry and had a fall, I feel good about finishing a four-day race with no major physical effects. I didn’t climb off feeling I couldn’t look at the bike for a week. And in the end our team leader got back and finished Top 10, so the team looked good too.

Where I couldn’t compete was the mental effort and ability. It’s so inextricably linked to the physical. Many of these guys are full-time riders. I can see where immersion in the whole lifestyle helps support them – thinking and living nothing much more than bikes and racing. It takes mental force to be able to place your body and bike where you want it, and squeezing out the bloke next to you saves physical effort. They are chatting and moving and giving shoves and moves where I am gripping the bars and praying for personal space. They think no more about the ebb and flow of 90 riders than I would think about walking down a crowded street.

With that in mind I leave you with, Five Things I Learned on the Tour of Sharjah

  1. Riding is not the same as Racing.
  1. You don’t want to climb off, you just want it to be over.
  1. The three most important things are position, position and position.
  1. If nobody is riding there, there’s probably a good reason.
  1. New wheels would make me happier, but there are many, many other things I can do to be a better rider (don’t tell my wife though).

Would I go back ? Maybe. At least I know I can do it. But while I can temporarily live a Pro life, eat Pro food, have Pro kit and even Pro(ish) legs, I don’t think I’ll ever have a Pro head. And that’s the difference.

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61 Replies to “Guest Article: Racing, Not Riding”

  1. @chrisO great write up, what an experience! You need a little pro symbol next to your name and the KT12 lion.

  2. Awesome write up.  It is one thing reading the stories of pro riders in their memoirs but this has a much more immediate feel to it and is very inspiring….I need to bookmark this for those days when I don’t feel like riding….I take it you rode the  Ridley but am I right in seeing you dispensed with the trusty old Brooks saddle?

  3. Fuck’in AWESOME!  There is riding the bike and there is RACING the bike.  Worlds of difference.  So well told.  This needs to go up there with “The Ride”.  Brilliantly conveyed. 

    But that ninja at the right hand side of photo 15 freaks me out!  Never liked seeing them on convoy on the side of the street.

  4. Outstanding write up! Thanks for sharing. Question: beyond sporting rivalry, how did the teams/riders interact? There were some countries competing that on a political lever don’t get on too well to put it mildly. Was sport the great equalizer or at least a distraction from politics?

  5. Class, Chris, class! Really enjoyable reading. Hey, did the Brooks saddle come through the crash unscathed? And, what did you lads do about wheel swaps since I’m guessing you don’t have coordinated drivetrains? Do you know who can share wheels ahead of the stage or what?

    Also, “through and off.” I like that, never heard it, but now I’ll surely be using it.

    Good on ya for finishing! And yup, the mental skills of talented athletes are really, really damn impressive. They might not always be well spoken or do well in school, but the ability to see, react, and do instantaneously what many of us might spend a few minutes just contemplating is incredible. They don’t really think about it, they’ve just trained their body and they see things so fast & just make it happen.

    Great report & really cool to see photos of a place I don’t know much about. Also like seeing dudes who don’t have the best/most expensive kit or bikes who can still ride like mad. That’s awesome! And puts things in perspective.

  6. T’riffic article, thanks for sharing.  Sounds like hell, you lucky thing, you.  Love the concept of ‘racing not riding’… and I try not to think too much about what it is like to be part of a peloton of 90+ riders going flat out when it’s hard enough on a Sunday morning chain gang with six of us.  God, what a beautiful sport… and what a year 2012 has been for you, hey?  Congrats.

  7. Great write up.  I couldn’t agree more about the mental aspect.  Its a stressful grind and you can’t afford to ever let your guard down.  Congrats on a solid finish and sticking it out after the crash.

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  9. Sitting in bike shop enjoying an espresso and reading over your accounts is a great start to the weekend.  Awesome job Chris.

  10. Great article Chris. The mentality of the professional sportsman/woman is something really remarkable. I’m always struck that it’s that rather than their physical attributes which sets them apart from us. Having said that, in my case, it’s obviously both.

  11. Nice article! Thank you. I enjoyed reading about the cultural context of the race.

    I think you nailed when you noted the immersion of the professional. I never raced a lot–I wound up doing a lot more rockclimbing than bike racing. But with any stressful activity, the more you do it the more you get used to it, and the more you focus on the stuff that really needs your focus. I think there’s rarely a substitute for long experience. I remember, early on, doing an all-day climb with a guy who was 20 years older than I was and 25 pounds overweight. End of the day, he was fresh as a daisy and I was tanked, even though I was fitter and had more technical climbing skill than he had. He was relaxed and focused, and I was neither.

  12. Two things:

    1.) OOH-RAH!!!

    2.) That’s coolest (bike related) story I’ve read in a long time.  I’m extremely jealous.

  13. Such a great story, thanks for taking the time to write it up and share it with us!

  14. Fucking love THIS:  Being shelled is like ice breaking. It starts behind you, then the deadly crack reaches your wheel and you plunge into the void.

  15. Thanks for the comments, it’s always difficult to know how to condense an experience like that into something of any interest to others so I am mildly surprised and truly pleased if it entertained or informed.

    @Deakus Yes well spotted on the Brooks. My tensioning bolt broke so the saddle was in for repair and I bought a Selle SLR as a temporary replacement. Having said that, it felt OK and looks good on the bike so I may make it my racing saddle and use the Brooks otherwise when it comes back.

    Podium guys – take the photo of dignatories in dish-dashes (the white robe things) and imagine them as the presenters. Sometimes the photos of the podiums seem to feature the officials more than the riders TBH but that’s very much the culture here.

    @BuckRogers – to be fair in the more urban parts of the UAE it’s unusual to see them totally covered. But in the other Emirates and outside of Dubai and Abu Dhabi they are more conservative. Sharjah is a separate emirate but is more traditional, and is also the only completely dry emirate of the UAE.

  16. @ChrisO

    Nice riding. I takes a tough person to hang like that. Did you do any water bottle carrying? A friend of mine said it is hard as hell.

    I see your teammate Elton is riding the little seen Museeuw frame. Does anyone ride these, anywhere, besides Elton?

  17. Love the Tim Krabbe style. Edge of the seat stuff to see if @ChrisO will get back on or even finish the stage.

    Chapeau.

  18. @ChrisO awesome! Thanks for sharing. Living the Pro life in a stage race is something most of us will never get to experience or face off against really. Very cool to have your account. 

  19. @Ron

    Class, Chris, class! Really enjoyable reading. Hey, did the Brooks saddle come through the crash unscathed? And, what did you lads do about wheel swaps since I’m guessing you don’t have coordinated drivetrains? Do you know who can share wheels ahead of the stage or what?

    Also, “through and off.” I like that, never heard it, but now I’ll surely be using it.

    With the wheels we each had to bring our own spare set, and we divided them between the two trucks with the stronger guys’ wheels in the lead truck. Each one had to be marked and labelled, including the ones on the bikes so they could be returned afterwards. When Duncan gave his (rear) wheel it was partly because of the compatibility – Duncan is a formidable TT rider and would have been perfect to bring Martin back to the bunch, and I would have given my wheel in turn but he is Group-san and I am Gruppo. It only takes a yell to work it out.

    @Wiscot It’s hard for me to say because most of the bunch was Arabic and so we don’t pick everything up. For all I know they make camel jokes about each other like we make them about sheep and Kiwis. There seemed to be plenty of chat and banter between different teams and riders and I didn’t sense any tension. I guess they see each other at other events too. When I was in groups with other guys for long periods of time I tried to say hello and at least know each other’s names. The fellowship of the road transcends language and politics.

  20. @ChrisO

    Thanks for the awesome article.

    I loved the recurrent theme of never giving in. That’s a learned response that truly makes you a good cyclist.  Chasing back on after so many setbacks is fortifying. You can use the knowledge of your strength and perseverance in all of your future endeavours.

    Respect, and well done!

  21. masha’Allah a cracking article and a fantastic effort all through. There are so many experiences we simply do not get being riders vs club riders vs racers, to then take that next step up and attempt to race in a pro race like that is fantastic. I am extremely impressed and really hope you are able to have another crack next year and implement some of the lessons you have learnt in your first run. Really well done ChrisO and thanks for the excellent write up.

  22. Chapeau ChrisO! Great article – sounds like bloody hard work though, and knowing how hot it gets out there I wouldnt want to be riding a bike let alone trying to race on one! As for chasing back on after getting dropped, that is mighty impressive. I will be bearing your efforts in mind over the coming season As I try to drag my sorry arse up the license categories.

  23. That sounds pretty damn epic. I enjoy learning how cycling and cycling culture is strong in a part of the world I know mostly through the bad events I hear about on the news here in the west.  Chapeau for riding a strong race and nice write up.

  24. Oh, and Chris…I hope to be just like you when I grow up! Fit, strong, fierce, courageous, and displaying serious amounts of V. I’m inspired! One of the many things I like about riding bicycles is that I can/hope to be doing it for a long, long time. I haven’t been at it that long but it’s great to see & read how talented many of you are who are a few, or many, years older. I have too many friends that just gave up on sports after high school or college and I see how that hasn’t helped their mental or physical health.

    Hmm, an SLR saddle. I tried to get one to work for quite awhile. Loved the look of it but it just never disappeared under me the way a proper saddle will. Whenever I see it in my drawer though I think about giving it another go. Then I think about how insane it can be trying to put a new saddle on a pillar with two bolts…

  25. @Ron

    Oh, and Chris…I hope to be just like you when I grow up! Fit, strong, fierce, courageous, and displaying serious amounts of V. I’m inspired! One of the many things I like about riding bicycles is that I can/hope to be doing it for a long, long time. I haven’t been at it that long but it’s great to see & read how talented many of you are who are a few, or many, years older. I have too many friends that just gave up on sports after high school or college and I see how that hasn’t helped their mental or physical health.

    Hmm, an SLR saddle. I tried to get one to work for quite awhile. Loved the look of it but it just never disappeared under me the way a proper saddle will. Whenever I see it in my drawer though I think about giving it another go. Then I think about how insane it can be trying to put a new saddle on a pillar with two bolts…

    Ive just attempted to get used to a Selle Italia Signo and after 3 days on the trainer I have conceded given in and gone back to my Brooks swallow…come the summer I may try a Prologo or Fizik from the LBS, they have test saddles and I can get a feel for whether or not they would work for me, but as far as the turbo goes it is the Brooks all the way!

  26. ChrisO: best article I’ve read really long time.  As a 40ish guy, racing a couple years more diligently & frustrated at times getting my ass handed to me, this is inspirational!  There’re is hope for us, for me.  The function of time & obligations & the bike is the hard part to juggle for me.  But with impending empty nest, there will be more time to race

    Thanks

  27. @Ron SLRs deform the way a Brooks would, in a way. It might take longer, but my mother’s, after three years and thousands of kilometres in the hot desert, changed it’s shape completely. It’s also, apparently, getting more comfortable for her as time goes by (though she found it quite comfy from day 1).

  28. @Blah

    Love the Tim Krabbe style. Edge of the seat stuff to see if @ChrisO will get back on or even finish the stage.

    Chapeau.

    Exactly! Getting us that involved in a few short paragraphs shows great writing ability on top of outstanding pedal stomping. Great work @ChrisO!!

  29. @tessar

    @Ron SLRs deform the way a Brooks would, in a way. It might take longer, but my mother’s, after three years and thousands of kilometres in the hot desert, changed it’s shape completely. It’s also, apparently, getting more comfortable for her as time goes by (though she found it quite comfy from day 1).

    Nope sorry I have to disagree…..and not because I know any better, simply because of the laws of chemistry and physics. I have nothing against SLR saddles, I have a friend who rides them, swears by them and loves them, they are light well made and suit some peoples sit bones very well, even if it takes a while.  I am also no leather o’holic either, I am just saying the the physical and chemical nature of leather means that it cannot be replicated (to date) by man made fibres/foams etc.  The idea that you can replicate a leather saddle of half a kilo with a modern day saddle of sub 180g is just barmy.  It cannot be done, it may suit your ma…..and that is fine, but the simple fact is that given enough time and miles a leather saddle will suit everyone eventually…..i have tried many saddles, I am a “big unit” and I have come to the conclusion that I am happy to accept the extra weight of leather over anything else because it is made to slowly stretch and mould.  It may be heavy, it may need time and it may need care but at the end of the day…there is price for everything…there are no shortcuts in life..

  30. Speaking of saddles and many hours in the saddle. Anyone had the sensation of pissing needles after a long cold ride? It hurts like hell.

  31. @unversio

    Speaking of saddles and many hours in the saddle. Anyone had the sensation of pissing needles after a long cold ride? It hurts like hell.

    You need to fit your bike properly.

  32. @Marko So you have pissed needles. I can re-check my fit from March. Just last week I did rotate the 3T Ergosum bars down (forward) with drops level (hoods are lower).

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