Cycling opens up another world. A world of exploration and self-awareness. Of improvement, born of study and rational thought, but also of desire and the essential support of technology. And, no less importantly, a world rich in impressions that nourish the creative spirit while giving it room to breathe.

‘Elsewhere’ revolves around this very notion. Conceived and experienced firsthand by photographer and director Guido Pancotti, the editorial reflects a relationship with cycling that, over the years, has become both a source of artistic inspiration and an escape from the rhythms of everyday life. Equipped with the COROS DURA 2 SOLAR cycling computer (learn more about the COROS DURA 2 SOLAR on the official COROS website), Pancotti took on the Col de Turini and Col de Braus, an experience that allowed him to reflect on his multifaceted relationship with cycling while examining the tangible value of technology in pursuing what he considers the sport’s ultimate purpose: the intersection of self-improvement and discovery.

“For this editorial developed with COROS, which gave me the opportunity to test the DURA 2 SOLAR cycling computer, I chose to tackle two climbs I find particularly compelling: the Col de Turini and the Col de Braus. They’re iconic locations, yet relatively underrepresented compared with other great climbs. I could have chosen the Galibier or the Stelvio, where capturing spectacular images might have been more straightforward, but one of the things I love most about cycling is precisely the opportunity to reach places that see fewer visitors. The Col de Turini is renowned for its place in the history of the Monte Carlo Rally, as well as having featured several times in the Tour de France. The Col de Braus lies in the same area, in a landscape close to home and deeply connected to the history of the border between Italy and France.

These roads have always fascinated me, particularly because of their configuration. The hairpin bends overlap and interlock, creating structures that I find extraordinarily interesting from an architectural perspective. Architecture has always played an important role in my life. My mother is an architect, my father is an engineer and my brother is an architect. I grew up surrounded by people whose work revolves around form and space. I think that background also influenced my decision to choose these two climbs. One of the greatest gifts cycling has given me is the opportunity to discover places I might otherwise never have encountered. I think, for example, of certain roads concealed in the hinterlands of Liguria or France…

The idea behind this editorial was to portray an ordinary day in the life of a cyclist. I didn’t want to manufacture an exceptional occasion, but rather document a training session, an everyday ride. To someone who cycles regularly, it might seem entirely unremarkable, whereas to someone unfamiliar with this world, even a simple day in the saddle can reveal unexpected things: unknown landscapes, places never explored despite being so close to home… Naturally, to achieve the photographs and compositions I had envisioned while riding, I needed the support of other people, who accompanied me throughout the experience.

Cycling became part of my life shortly before the pandemic. Several of my friends were already riding, and growing up in Sanremo meant that cycling culture had always been part of my surroundings. Milano–Sanremo is woven into the city’s identity, while the transformation of the old railway line into a cycle path, now one of the most significant in Europe, has helped foster an increasingly vibrant cycling community. I’ve always practised a wide range of sports, basketball above all, but at a certain point I felt drawn towards an endurance discipline. Once I started cycling, the relationship became intense almost immediately: a kind of love-hate affair, as so often happens with this sport.

The performance aspect makes that relationship complicated. Cycling allows you to measure yourself directly against the professionals. Whether you’re Tadej Pogačar, Guido Pancotti or anyone else, the terrain you’re confronting is exactly the same. And you have to reckon with the reality of what you’re actually capable of. At the same time, cycling has an extraordinary ability to make you feel good. When you finish a ride, your mind feels clearer, freer. For me, above all, it’s an outlet, a way of escaping the commotion of everyday life. Just a few days ago, for example, I was overwhelmed with work deadlines. The weather outside was terrible, so I trained on the indoor trainer. By the time I finished, all the tension I’d accumulated seemed to have dissolved.

I’ve been working with international fashion brands for around ten years, and over the past two I’ve begun asking myself why I shouldn’t bring that experience into the world of cycling, a world I feel increasingly connected to. I’ve gradually become involved in the industry, trying to give greater definition to what I want to communicate and how I want to communicate it, while experiencing it firsthand. This summer, for example, I went on a cycling journey with a friend, setting off from Alpe di Siusi and riding all the way to Sanremo, crossing some of the most significant mountain passes in cycling history. The Galibier, the Bonette, the Colombière… Experiences that allowed me to deepen my relationship with the sport, while also understanding more and more how to portray its countless nuances.

In fashion, the pursuit of image quality borders on obsession. Aesthetics are fundamental to every project, something around which everything else is constructed. Working across fashion, advertising and sport, I’ve come to appreciate just how much this sensibility can contribute to developing new forms of storytelling within cycling. There’s another aspect that particularly interests me. I think we devote an enormous amount of attention to the moment an athlete wins, and far too little to everything that brought them to that point. Victory is simply the culmination of a journey. The hardest part is everything that comes before it: the work required to arrive at a competition in the best possible condition. That’s a dimension I believe deserves far greater attention. And ultimately, it’s something that applies to life beyond sport and competitions, too.

This editorial is titled ‘Elsewhere’: a word that doesn’t necessarily refer to a physical place, but rather to a different state of mind, another way of seeing things. In cycling, as in visual storytelling, it represents the pursuit of something beyond what is immediately visible: roads that take us away from the familiar, moments that unfold between departure and arrival, frames that reveal something we weren’t even looking for… To me, it’s about being fully present while allowing yourself, at the same time, to feel elsewhere. Cycling has taught me that sometimes the destination isn’t a place, but a feeling, a perspective, a moment that stays with you. And that can happen even on an ordinary ride.

Using the DURA 2 SOLAR made me reflect on how profoundly technology has transformed the experience of cycling in recent years. The introduction of power meters, digital devices and all the tools now at our disposal has changed professional cycling, but also the way amateurs approach the sport. Take, for example, the ability to upload a route to your cycling computer and set off knowing you can follow your intended itinerary all the way home. It’s an enormous freedom. You no longer have to worry constantly about where to turn, which road to take or whether you’re heading in the right direction… You can devote much more attention to your surroundings, observing the landscapes and architecture, both natural and man-made, that you pass through, and fully immerse yourself in the experience.

Having access to detailed performance data is also fascinating, provided it doesn’t become an obsession. These metrics can be invaluable tools for understanding yourself better, recognising your progress and comparing what you’re capable of today with what you could achieve in the past. I don’t believe cycling necessarily has to revolve around an obsessive pursuit of performance. You can ride for the simple pleasure of movement, for the joy of discovery and, at the same time, for the satisfaction of improving yourself.

When I first held the COROS DURA 2 SOLAR in my hands, what struck me most was its aesthetic design. I’ve used other cycling computers, so I had a very direct point of comparison. The difference in design was remarkable. You can immediately appreciate the attention devoted to aerodynamics and the refinement of its form. It’s an exceptionally slim device. I was equally impressed by the interface, which I found remarkably intuitive. Advanced cycling computers can often be rather complicated to navigate, whereas my experience with this one was entirely different… Then there’s the ability to harness solar energy to recharge it: a particularly intelligent solution for a device designed to spend so much time exposed to sunlight.

Ultimately, I believe the value of technology lies precisely in its ability to enhance the cycling experience without compromising one of its essential qualities: the attention we devote to our surroundings, to everything we’re experiencing and passing through. The numbers, directions and tools at our disposal can help us better understand what we’re doing and monitor our progress, which, as I mentioned earlier, remains a fundamental motivation in my relationship with cycling. But I also want to emphasise another way technology can help us: by allowing us to ride with peace of mind, clear our heads and fully discover things we have yet to encounter.”

Learn more about the COROS DURA 2 SOLAR on the official COROS website.