CAPS
The style of cycling has always interested me. As long as I’ve been a part of the sport, the intricacies of cycling fashion has really drawn me in.
One of my earliest memories, and the spark that started this obsession, was the original Telekom kit. It was the first kit I remember seeing growing up, and thinking:
“Oh man, that's cool. I would love to wear that kit.”
I don’t know specifically what it was about that kit, but there was something clean and sleek about it that contrasted the bold pink colour that really spoke to me. The one thing I remember obsessing over was the caps.
I love caps. Caps, capellinos, casquettes - whatever you want to call them - the little cotton hats that riders wear; they just ooze cool.
When I was a junior, I used to rip around in an old Lotto-Domo cap that I absolutely wore to death - even when it was hot outside. I used to hand-wash it to keep it clean, and I’d wear it practically every time I rode my bike. I thought I was the coolest guy, rolling around looking like Museeuw. From an early age, I associated cycling caps with being - and most importantly looking - pro as fuck.
The Paris Roubaix start line, 1899
In the days before mandatory helmets, riders used to rock the caps in full force. But where do they come from? Where did it all start? Well, back in the day - and I mean way back in the day - riders would wear really traditional-looking tweed flat caps to protect themselves from the elements.
Over time, the caps became a bit sleeker and started to be made out of lighter materials like cotton for a bit of sun protection and sweat absorption. It’s always been a functional accessory first and foremost.
Of course, in the 1950s, when cycling started to become more and more commercialised, sponsors started getting involved, and the cycling cap was the perfect place to splash their branding and logos. It became merchandise that fans could buy to show their support or, if they were lucky, get a sweat-drenched, soiled cap fresh from the head of one of their favourite riders.
Fast forward way ahead…
With the introduction of helmets, made mandatory in 2003, the use of the cap has declined. These days, riders mostly just wear the caps under the helmet when it’s cold or wet, and sometimes they’ll wear them on the podium or to sign on. Increasingly, teams are issuing riders with baseball-style caps, which are pushing out the traditional casquette, which is a real shame.
Fuck yeah, I’m gonna get shit loads of caps
When I first turned pro back in 2009 with Skil Shimano, one of the things I was most excited about was the kit. My whole career, getting the new season’s kit always made me feel pro. I rocked up to the team service course, got the big kit bag, drove it back to my digs in Holland, and set about opening every single piece.
I opened every packet, ripped off every label, and tried everything on. The full-length bib tights knicks, all matching big boy winter jackets, long and short fingered gloves, a million styles of vests and jerseys and then random warmers that you don’t know how to use yet…but no caps. No fucking caps. What the hell!?
Of course, the cap is only part of the story. Equally as important is just how you wear it. Forwards or backwards? Peak up or peak down? Ripped all the way down, skullcap style or with plenty of Luft? That’s how you can really express yourself and show what you’re about as a rider; how you wear your cap.
Cruising to the start to sign on? Nice and high on the head, keep it relaxed. Peak up, classic, to show the branding and make it clear how chilled out you are. Of course, wearing a helmet is only mandatory in Australia, well, as far as I know anyway. So the novelty when I moved to Europe of being able to head out training in a cap was real! These were the days when I was young, dumb and full of… well, you know how that saying goes. As I started to value my life a bit more, the times rolling those few hundred meters to sign on became the only times that I would be able to go full traditional, solo casquette sans helmet.
One of the best to ever wear a cap; Big Mig.
I can imagine what it must have been like back in the day, rolling out the neutral zone? Cap up nice and high, perched perfectly a top of your head. As the flag drops... OK - time to lock in now. The peak would come down; time to keep the focus. Oh, a spot of rain in the air? That’s fine, it just rolls right off the peak away from my eyes.
As the race heats up, riders single out, things are starting to get a bit serious now, let’s turn this puppy around - show we mean business. Need the spoiler at the back to keep me from taking off.
Get in that fucking break! This is the moment; you’re cranking away, giving it everything to get into what will surely be the race-winning move. She’s already backwards, but flick that peak up for the ultimate aero boost. Let’s fucking go.
The King always knew what he was doing.
Eddy Merckx. Need I say more?
But, as with most things in cycling, the UCI couldn’t just let it be. In 1991, Paris-Nice, the UCI tried to introduce a rule about mandatory helmet use. Francis Moreau removed his helmet on Mont Feron and was promptly disqualified from the race. The result? The riders took a stand and went on strike until the UCI backed down.
Fast forward to 2003 and the tragic death of young Khazak rider Andrei Kivilev at that year’s edition of the same race, which put a rocket up the UCI’s arse and made them really push the rule about helmet use. There was, for a while, a revision that allowed riders to remove their lids within the last 5km if the stage finished uphill, but that didn’t last long and - sadly - the era of the cap was over. A dark day for the beauty of cycling, but a win for rider safety.
If only the UCI could have looked ahead 20 years or so and seen the ridiculous mushroom TT-looking helmets that riders are now rocking - even in road races! Maybe they’d have thought twice about forcing helmets into the pelo.
I thought I was gonna get a massive sack of caps…at least one?!
A team DS came to my house to see how I was getting on with my new kit.
“All good with the kit?” he asked.
“Yeah…it’s alright…”
“What’s up? Everything OK?”
“Well…there’s no caps.”
“Oh you mean like a winter hat?”
“No, like cycling caps. You know those little hats?”
“Ohh a casquette? Don’t worry about it, we’ll get them on the races.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant. Until the first race of the season. Still searching for a cap, I rocked up and asked another rider where he’d gotten his from.
“They’re on the bus mate, that cupboard over there. Go and grab one”
I walked over to the cupboard, opened it up, and…oh my god…caps! Not just one or two, but bloody hundreds of caps!
“Fuck yeah baby! Let it rain” I thought to myself as I grabbed a handful.
One of the most important things to consider when wearing a cap is luft. Luft is the German word for air, and refers to the amount of space between the top of your head and your cap.
Exhibit A - No Luft:
Exhibit B - Lots of Luft:
Why do riders seek out luft? Well, nobody really knows. Some people’s theory is that Indurain’s cap sat so high because he had so much hair underneath it, but then look at old baldie Bjarne Riis up there - no hair but so much Luft the cap is caving in the wind. Is it a status symbol, like a peacock? To make a rider appear taller and grander than they actually are? Who knows why, all I know is that it looks as cool as it gets.
“Single use caps! Wear it to the podium, chuck it to a fan, yeah baby now I’m a pro”
Obviously the racing was important, but the aesthetics of having a cap on at the start of a race, chucking it part way through, only to get a fresh cap the next day and do it all over again made me feel so badass.
I raced the Sun Tour back in Aus at the end of my first season pro. 10 months in Europe and I wanted to be the big Euro pro on home soil when I came back in October. I grabbed 20 or 30 caps out the truck and flew back to Australia with them. I was racing the Sun Tour with the Aussie National composite team, so in the national jersey but still with a Skil-Shimano kit elsewhere, and of course a cap. Every day, I’d start with the cap on under my helmet. Then, when the racing started to kick off or the temperature warmed up, I’d take my helmet off and throw the cap.
At the end of the week, an older Aussie rider approached me in the bunch.
“Mate, what are you doing? Every fucking day I see a fucking Skil cap on the floor?!”
I simply replied:
“Yeah, they’re just caps, man - who cares?”
EPILOGUE: HOW TO WEAR A CYCLING CAP
When you pick your cap up, you need to firstly reshape it. Hold the brim with 2 fingers in one hand. Then, with the other hand, as you bring the cap down, you want to punch that body of the cap out. Making sure it’s fully expanded.
From there, with the body fully opened, you want to hold the cap with both hands positioned between your pointer finger and thumb, either side of the elastic at the rear, keeping that full expansion of the body shape. Then, with your hands still in that position, you want to dip the front of your head into where the peak and cap join and pull the back on and over your head.
Now, not pretending I know what your head is like, but on mine, I pull down the back until it is just on enough but not over the little bump on the rear of your head - the external occipital protuberance. If you need to further adjust from here, you simply hold the front of the brim with one hand and the other flat palm on the back elastic.
You want a minimum of 2 fingers’ worth of LUFT - Air between the top of your head and the cap. The more you can handle the better. Caps differ. I understand that. But if you are using - and should be - a APIS italian made cap, then this fitting technique will be sufficient.
To fit a cap backwards, I will take the cap by the brim - both hands, with the peak between my pointer finger and thumb and pull it on that way. Again, be mindful never to pull the cap over the external occipital protuberance at the rear of your skull. From there, you can flip the peak if that is your style. There again should be 2 fingers’ worth of luft, but it can be accepted to be slightly less when wearing a cap this way. Definitely not less than 1 finger.
PREVIOUS STORIES
